Rydia : (32) : Right and Wrong
Title: Chill
Theme + Number: (32) Right and wrong
Claim: Rydia (character; challenge)
Characters/Pairings included: Cecil, Rosa, Kain
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: dramaqueen!Sev. Long.
Summary: “When I was in the Land of Summons,” she begins, “I told stories about you and Rosa to the little monsters.”
Baron is silent, its flags at half-mast, and its king bows his head as he stands at a balcony, looking into the mountains to the North.
Rydia is standing a little behind Cecil. She doesn’t know what to say, not at all: this is Rosa they are thinking of, the one who always made everything else better.
“Cecil,” she says finally, since he is lost in his thoughts.
Cecil doesn’t turn at all, but she knows he has acknowledged her, so she approaches him; her bare feet glide smooth across the stone floor of the tower. It’s chilly. Her body gets so confused these days: she was born in Mist, which was a mountain-town, but then grew up in the Underground, close to the core of the earth. Sometimes her skin forgets whether it likes warm or cold. She certainly feels cold now, and draws the cream-coloured shawl close to herself.
“Have you been back to Mist?” he asks her abruptly, mirroring her thoughts so well it frightens her a little until she realizes they are looking in the vague direction of her birthplace.
“Once,” she answers honestly. “I meant to go back again, but then …this.”
His head bows again, and she still doesn’t know what to say. “Cecil, it will be okay,” she offers. “Rosa will be alright.”
“Do you know that?” he asks softly.
“No, I don’t,” Rydia admits. She walks to the front of the balcony, rests her hands on the ledge. “I’m not a healer, Cecil. I - I gave that up long ago.” She pauses. “But I believe she will be alright.”
“It’s all wrong,” Cecil says, mostly to himself. “All wrong.”
“Of course it is,” Rydia replies, because it sounds like the right thing to say. She seems to be channeling Rosa today: all soft and soothing, words the white mage is not there to say.
- - -
Kain comes to her, and the shadows in his face are so thick she feels as if she could reach out and brush them aside, like cobwebs.
“Kain…” Rydia does not want to ask how are you, because she knows the answer.
“Is there anything I can do?” she asks instead.
“Cecil,” Kain says, simply. He looks exhausted. He looks broken.
“I can - take care of Baron,” he continues when she says nothing. “But I cannot … help … Cecil. Not right now.”
Rydia nods decisively, the ghost of a smile flitting across her face. “And I am no good for ruling.” She turns, a wisp of silk against the darkness of the castle. “I will be with Cecil, then.”
“Thank you.”
She pauses. “What shall I tell him?”
She can feel Kain sagging with the weight of his own grief, his own worry. This will cost them all, she knows. Everything about this is wrong.
“Tell him a story,” Kain mutters, and then he is gone.
- - -
“I can’t,” Cecil says raggedly, “I don’t think I could go on if she…” He stops. He cannot bring himself to finish the sentence, and Rydia cannot finish it for him.
“I know I’m not hurting as much as you are, but I love her too, Cecil,” she says. “I’ve loved you both, my whole life. It hurts.” She stops, because there are so many other things that hurt and have hurt. “But all will be well.”
“How do you -” Cecil turns to her, and the grief and worry is written across his face so deeply Rydia almost doesn’t know him. “How do you still believe, Rydia? How can you believe in us - in this world - in anything good anymore?” He takes a deep, heaving breath.
Rydia turns back to the mountains of her birth, looking at the vague mist weaving its way between the rocks and peaks.
“When I was in the Land of Summons,” she begins, because she doesn’t know where else to begin; it’s a very awkward story, but somehow, it’s the only way she can tell Cecil what she means, “I told stories about you and Rosa to the little monsters.” She stops, mostly out of pure humiliation. “You were the … you were the Dark Knight with a heart of gold, the Black Warrior who saved an innocent little girl. And Rosa … Rosa was the White Mage, the Lady of Light, who had the deadliest aim in all of the world.” She chuckles at the memory. “The kids loved the stories.”
Maybe I shouldn’t mention children right now, Rydia thinks, not so soon after his wife has miscarried her second child. But it’s too late.
“Eventually I grew out of those stories,” she continued, “but I still kind of believed it all. When Asura told me that you’d entered the Underground, I knew I had to make my way to you. There was never any question, Cecil.”
She pauses. “You gave me my entire life,” she says breathily. “You were what was right in the world.”
Cecil shakes his head. “I took your life away from you,” he begins angrily, “I -”
“You took away much,” Rydia interjects. “I’m not saying you didn’t. But you saved me. You chose to save me, and not kill me. You chose to protect me, to the point where you took me along.” She runs fingertips along the balcony, feeling the chill in the stone.
“If you hadn’t taken me along, I may have never come to Leviathan,” Rydia says softly. “In the end, you gave me everything I’ve got.”
Cecil is looking at her now, but she can’t read his face. Emotions are a skill she’s re-learning, slowly, after so much time with the monsters.
“I’ve always had faith,” Rydia finishes simply, and turns her face to the mist from her mountains. “And it’s never proven me wrong.”
There is a silence. The mist on her face feels like the soft, cold touch of silk. It’s chilly, but it’s refreshing: not exactly hope, yet, but the lack of despair.
“What were you in the stories?” Cecil asks finally.
“The Sorceress,” Rydia replies, smiling in reminiscence. “The Summoner. The Child. The Priestess.” She pauses, frowning slightly.
“Never a queen?” Cecil asks, and his voice is chilled, like the air.
Rydia shakes her head, slowly. “I never made myself the Queen,” she says softly. “I never could.”
The silence descends again.
“I’ll go check on Rosa,” Rydia says softly, and steps away.
“Thank you,” he replies.
For: mount_ordeals, FFIV
XP: brokenprism
Theme + Number: (32) Right and wrong
Claim: Rydia (character; challenge)
Characters/Pairings included: Cecil, Rosa, Kain
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: dramaqueen!Sev. Long.
Summary: “When I was in the Land of Summons,” she begins, “I told stories about you and Rosa to the little monsters.”
Baron is silent, its flags at half-mast, and its king bows his head as he stands at a balcony, looking into the mountains to the North.
Rydia is standing a little behind Cecil. She doesn’t know what to say, not at all: this is Rosa they are thinking of, the one who always made everything else better.
“Cecil,” she says finally, since he is lost in his thoughts.
Cecil doesn’t turn at all, but she knows he has acknowledged her, so she approaches him; her bare feet glide smooth across the stone floor of the tower. It’s chilly. Her body gets so confused these days: she was born in Mist, which was a mountain-town, but then grew up in the Underground, close to the core of the earth. Sometimes her skin forgets whether it likes warm or cold. She certainly feels cold now, and draws the cream-coloured shawl close to herself.
“Have you been back to Mist?” he asks her abruptly, mirroring her thoughts so well it frightens her a little until she realizes they are looking in the vague direction of her birthplace.
“Once,” she answers honestly. “I meant to go back again, but then …this.”
His head bows again, and she still doesn’t know what to say. “Cecil, it will be okay,” she offers. “Rosa will be alright.”
“Do you know that?” he asks softly.
“No, I don’t,” Rydia admits. She walks to the front of the balcony, rests her hands on the ledge. “I’m not a healer, Cecil. I - I gave that up long ago.” She pauses. “But I believe she will be alright.”
“It’s all wrong,” Cecil says, mostly to himself. “All wrong.”
“Of course it is,” Rydia replies, because it sounds like the right thing to say. She seems to be channeling Rosa today: all soft and soothing, words the white mage is not there to say.
- - -
Kain comes to her, and the shadows in his face are so thick she feels as if she could reach out and brush them aside, like cobwebs.
“Kain…” Rydia does not want to ask how are you, because she knows the answer.
“Is there anything I can do?” she asks instead.
“Cecil,” Kain says, simply. He looks exhausted. He looks broken.
“I can - take care of Baron,” he continues when she says nothing. “But I cannot … help … Cecil. Not right now.”
Rydia nods decisively, the ghost of a smile flitting across her face. “And I am no good for ruling.” She turns, a wisp of silk against the darkness of the castle. “I will be with Cecil, then.”
“Thank you.”
She pauses. “What shall I tell him?”
She can feel Kain sagging with the weight of his own grief, his own worry. This will cost them all, she knows. Everything about this is wrong.
“Tell him a story,” Kain mutters, and then he is gone.
- - -
“I can’t,” Cecil says raggedly, “I don’t think I could go on if she…” He stops. He cannot bring himself to finish the sentence, and Rydia cannot finish it for him.
“I know I’m not hurting as much as you are, but I love her too, Cecil,” she says. “I’ve loved you both, my whole life. It hurts.” She stops, because there are so many other things that hurt and have hurt. “But all will be well.”
“How do you -” Cecil turns to her, and the grief and worry is written across his face so deeply Rydia almost doesn’t know him. “How do you still believe, Rydia? How can you believe in us - in this world - in anything good anymore?” He takes a deep, heaving breath.
Rydia turns back to the mountains of her birth, looking at the vague mist weaving its way between the rocks and peaks.
“When I was in the Land of Summons,” she begins, because she doesn’t know where else to begin; it’s a very awkward story, but somehow, it’s the only way she can tell Cecil what she means, “I told stories about you and Rosa to the little monsters.” She stops, mostly out of pure humiliation. “You were the … you were the Dark Knight with a heart of gold, the Black Warrior who saved an innocent little girl. And Rosa … Rosa was the White Mage, the Lady of Light, who had the deadliest aim in all of the world.” She chuckles at the memory. “The kids loved the stories.”
Maybe I shouldn’t mention children right now, Rydia thinks, not so soon after his wife has miscarried her second child. But it’s too late.
“Eventually I grew out of those stories,” she continued, “but I still kind of believed it all. When Asura told me that you’d entered the Underground, I knew I had to make my way to you. There was never any question, Cecil.”
She pauses. “You gave me my entire life,” she says breathily. “You were what was right in the world.”
Cecil shakes his head. “I took your life away from you,” he begins angrily, “I -”
“You took away much,” Rydia interjects. “I’m not saying you didn’t. But you saved me. You chose to save me, and not kill me. You chose to protect me, to the point where you took me along.” She runs fingertips along the balcony, feeling the chill in the stone.
“If you hadn’t taken me along, I may have never come to Leviathan,” Rydia says softly. “In the end, you gave me everything I’ve got.”
Cecil is looking at her now, but she can’t read his face. Emotions are a skill she’s re-learning, slowly, after so much time with the monsters.
“I’ve always had faith,” Rydia finishes simply, and turns her face to the mist from her mountains. “And it’s never proven me wrong.”
There is a silence. The mist on her face feels like the soft, cold touch of silk. It’s chilly, but it’s refreshing: not exactly hope, yet, but the lack of despair.
“What were you in the stories?” Cecil asks finally.
“The Sorceress,” Rydia replies, smiling in reminiscence. “The Summoner. The Child. The Priestess.” She pauses, frowning slightly.
“Never a queen?” Cecil asks, and his voice is chilled, like the air.
Rydia shakes her head, slowly. “I never made myself the Queen,” she says softly. “I never could.”
The silence descends again.
“I’ll go check on Rosa,” Rydia says softly, and steps away.
“Thank you,” he replies.
For: mount_ordeals, FFIV
XP: brokenprism