Firefear || Rydia : 36 (shut)
Firefear
Fandom: FFIV
Characters/Pairings: Rydia, Ifrit, Shiva
Rating: PG
Theme: 36, Shut
Summary: The pride of a Summon serving his mistress: Rydia learns from Ifrit.
- - -
Fire is her worst fear. It flickers through her much like the flames on Ifrit’s arms as he flexes his not-human muscles. His veins glow, she notices, dimly-lit candleflame tracing his life’s-blood down thighs larger than her torso.
“Summon me,” he hisses, sparks jumping from the fire of his form. She starts. “If you are so great,” Ifrit says, arching backwards, “summon me, Caller.”
Rydia chose to face fire, first: she knows her old fear must be overcome before she can embrace the summon-magic, this wild magic. For a moment she quakes, feeling the familiar child-fear overtake her, running up the backs of her legs directly into her tear ducts: but then she tightens her grip on the whip in her hand and shuts her fear away.
Ifrit’s fire sears her, but it is more bearable for the pain: it has scared away the fear, and Rydia calls the ice to her, again and again, until Ifrit finally deems her worthy and bows his flaming head in defeat. She swallows his hot word, feeling it scald her tongue, and something in her head shakes a little, where she’d stowed her fears.
It isn’t until Shiva that she is truly scared.
Facing the ice is not what does it: calling the fire, Rydia finds, she cannot do, and the box in her head opens and fills her up with angry shameful fears, and she calls lightning over and over because she cannot pull forth the fire. It’s just like Mount Hobs, but there is no Cecil and no Rosa, simply a terrified little girl who cannot control her own magic.
Shiva laughs at her, and the ice falls in sheets, and Rydia desperately tries to shut the fear away: no, not the fire, not mother, not home, not the fire -
Ifrit hears her.
The word is burning on her tongue and as Rydia gasps it emerges: fully-flaming, as if she spits fire like breath. Ifrit leaps from her magic-mouth into full form; she’s blazing hot with it. He roars, once, and the ice cannot stand: fire, around her, but the fire this time is hers.
It is a distinction she did not make before.
Shiva spins, and the battle goes on, but Rydia pulls from herself to give to Ifrit - to give to the flame - and eventually, Shiva’s frozen head bows in defeat. Everything is warm and Rydia longs to feel that cool word on her tongue, to swallow the chill and return to normal, but -
Ifrit stands before her. He is staring.
His eyes are warm, and golden. Rydia sees fire in them, yes. But even fire can be bound - this sort of fire.
“I am no wildfire,” Ifrit says, and in his voice is pride: the pride of a Summon serving his mistress. He is proud: proud of her, proud of her magic. The fire her hands call is hers to control. She will destroy no villages, if she does not deem it so.
It is a distinction she had not made, before.
“Thank you,” Rydia says. She closes her eyes, and breathes, and shuts the door on the past for good.
Notes: for mount_ordeals
Crossposted: brokenprism
Fandom: FFIV
Characters/Pairings: Rydia, Ifrit, Shiva
Rating: PG
Theme: 36, Shut
Summary: The pride of a Summon serving his mistress: Rydia learns from Ifrit.
- - -
Fire is her worst fear. It flickers through her much like the flames on Ifrit’s arms as he flexes his not-human muscles. His veins glow, she notices, dimly-lit candleflame tracing his life’s-blood down thighs larger than her torso.
“Summon me,” he hisses, sparks jumping from the fire of his form. She starts. “If you are so great,” Ifrit says, arching backwards, “summon me, Caller.”
Rydia chose to face fire, first: she knows her old fear must be overcome before she can embrace the summon-magic, this wild magic. For a moment she quakes, feeling the familiar child-fear overtake her, running up the backs of her legs directly into her tear ducts: but then she tightens her grip on the whip in her hand and shuts her fear away.
Ifrit’s fire sears her, but it is more bearable for the pain: it has scared away the fear, and Rydia calls the ice to her, again and again, until Ifrit finally deems her worthy and bows his flaming head in defeat. She swallows his hot word, feeling it scald her tongue, and something in her head shakes a little, where she’d stowed her fears.
It isn’t until Shiva that she is truly scared.
Facing the ice is not what does it: calling the fire, Rydia finds, she cannot do, and the box in her head opens and fills her up with angry shameful fears, and she calls lightning over and over because she cannot pull forth the fire. It’s just like Mount Hobs, but there is no Cecil and no Rosa, simply a terrified little girl who cannot control her own magic.
Shiva laughs at her, and the ice falls in sheets, and Rydia desperately tries to shut the fear away: no, not the fire, not mother, not home, not the fire -
Ifrit hears her.
The word is burning on her tongue and as Rydia gasps it emerges: fully-flaming, as if she spits fire like breath. Ifrit leaps from her magic-mouth into full form; she’s blazing hot with it. He roars, once, and the ice cannot stand: fire, around her, but the fire this time is hers.
It is a distinction she did not make before.
Shiva spins, and the battle goes on, but Rydia pulls from herself to give to Ifrit - to give to the flame - and eventually, Shiva’s frozen head bows in defeat. Everything is warm and Rydia longs to feel that cool word on her tongue, to swallow the chill and return to normal, but -
Ifrit stands before her. He is staring.
His eyes are warm, and golden. Rydia sees fire in them, yes. But even fire can be bound - this sort of fire.
“I am no wildfire,” Ifrit says, and in his voice is pride: the pride of a Summon serving his mistress. He is proud: proud of her, proud of her magic. The fire her hands call is hers to control. She will destroy no villages, if she does not deem it so.
It is a distinction she had not made, before.
“Thank you,” Rydia says. She closes her eyes, and breathes, and shuts the door on the past for good.
Notes: for mount_ordeals
Crossposted: brokenprism