Final Fantasy XVI fic, Chasing the Forgotten 6 (My Name in the Sound of Your Voice)
title: Chasing the Forgotten
author: caledon (the_tower_room)
pairing: Dion/Joshua
rating: E
summary: Having been born the Phoenix meant Joshua was destined to be by Bahamut’s side as his consort.
He didn’t know what he was expecting, but certainly not the situation he found himself in.
Omegaverse AU.
words: 5370
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy XVI belongs to Square Enix.
Chapter 6: My Name in the Sound of Your Voice
“To what do I owe this highest of honours?” asked Dion, face lit with the happiest expression that had ever graced him of late. Still holding Joshua aloft in his arms, slowly he slid him down his body until the redhead’s feet touched the ground and they faced each other eye to eye.
Tightening then loosening his grip on Dion’s shoulders, Joshua narrowed his eyes and scrunched his nose in a rather cute display of admonishment, belying it by then turning and sweeping a hand towards where his maidservants waited at the gate, one of them holding a tray upon which a porcelain covered pot lay. “I have brought a gift,” replied Joshua.
Wonderment blazed in golden brown eyes. “For me?”
The redhead nodded, fingernails unconsciously scratching at Dion’s lapels. “Yes. If you will allow one made by my mediocre hands.”
Dion couldn’t help the sharp inhale of disbelief. “You…made a gift…for me?”
Joshua pursed his lips bashfully. “I…yes.”
By a strange turn of events, Dion himself had a gift for Joshua, but it was still in the process of preparation and, much to his chagrin, was not created personally by himself.
From what he had observed from the Elucidated’s reports on the Consort over the years, Joshua had liked visiting the shops scattered all over Oriflamme, loved exploring the city and seeing what it offered, even trying newly opened places to experience the atmosphere. In each one the Consort Phoenix had found a favourite, and it was from one of these that Dion had bidden his servants to procure one such. He would have gone through the effort of going out there and getting it himself, however, due to the previous night’s scandal it was best for him to lay low.
The Emperor grabbed his Consort’s hands and brought them to his lips. “Then there is no other way but to accept gracefully and with all of my heart whatever it is my beloved Joshua has made for me with these very hands. I cannot wait.”
Hearing his name fall from Dion’s lips and feeling the tingle of the kiss on his knuckles, Joshua couldn’t help smiling, a flush of pleasure warming his cheeks. “W-well then,” he stuttered in happiness, then cleared his throat in an effort to compose himself. “If that is so, lead me to a convenient location where I may properly present you with my gift…” Then he added-to give the Emperor a taste of his own medicine, “Dion.”
The Emperor felt as though he had been struck, his own ears reddening at hearing his name uttered by Joshua, mind grown blank as he lost himself to the echoes of the Consort Phoenix’s voice combined with his name. Several seconds seemed to have passed by with him just simply staring at the redhead in wonder, with said redhead gradually growing alarmed at Dion’s continued silence. The blond shook himself from the stupor, threw a chagrined smile at Joshua as an apology, before leading him with a hand at the small of his back towards the gate of his training ground.
One of the gardens in the Emperor’s courtyard was perched on the cliff that overlooked the sea, the pavilion offering a panoramic view of the lush surroundings of the clear sky and the sparkling body of water.
On the dining table in the middle of the room the servants had set fine china and utensils, and as a centrepiece was the pot that held Joshua’s gift. As the Consort invited him to take a seat, Dion saw from his periphery the imperial officials he had sent out earlier that morning, and he gave them a signal to wait before turning his gaze once more to Joshua.
An indescribable feeling swept through Dion’s chest at the image of domesticity presented by his Consort ladling the food he himself had prepared for the Emperor into a bowl. Dion had been served all his life but always it was out of a sense of duty, a job performed. But from a spouse-for Joshua himself to take the time and effort to make something especially for Dion...there was a sense of lightness that engulfed his heart. Golden brown eyes roved over the features of Joshua’s face, taking in the soft curves of his cheeks and jaw, noting how the heart-shaped lips were pursed in concentration, making Dion’s own lips pull into a smile. His gaze roamed down to the slim column of Joshua’s neck and to the vee of his chest exposed by the loose folds of his robes and to the rosy nipples playing peek-a-boo through them...
A breath caught in Dion’s throat, making him choke. Suddenly finding his throat had gone dry, he attempted to swallow and licked his lips, remembering the texture of those twin buds against his lips and tongue on their wedding night so many years back. He shifted in his seat, the act inadvertently affording him a better view. All of a sudden the hunger in him had changed; now he wanted to feast in a banquet that he had only partaken of once on their wedding night.
The memory came to fore and Dion was reminded of how he had made Joshua lose himself to the sensation with each swipe of tongue and bite of teeth he had delivered upon the teat.
A growl rumbled from deep within his chest, the dragon inside him restless and with patience waning. In answer, the chains around his heart squeezed in warning, and he closed his eyes, muscles ticking at his jaws as he clutched at the armrest of his chair. Soon, he thought, reminded of the reports the Elucidated had been investigating and compiling for him, readying him for what was to come.
Opening his eyes, he took one last peek at those twin peaks down Joshua’s robes, contenting himself with the thought that freedom was nigh and he needed only soldier through this last little while.
The bowl now filled up, Joshua turned to face him, holding said bowl up to him with a look of expectation on his face.
Not breaking eye contact, Dion sat back in his chair and tapped his leg, a clear invitation for Joshua to perch upon. Sighing with a put-upon expression, the redhead did as bidden, gracefully plopping himself down and crossing one leg over the other, making himself comfortable. To secure him in place, Dion wrapped an arm around his waist. Then, without looking at the bowl that Joshua was offering, Dion nodded at it and opened his mouth. Rolling his blue eyes and with lips twisted, Joshua reached for the spoon on the table and ladled a scoop of his creation and fed it to his husband.
At that first mouthful, the excited look on Dion’s face morphed to one of disgust and puzzlement as he struggled to comprehend just what exactly had been fed to him. It clearly was liquid, and there were some...textures? Some were soft enough to chew quickly and some still had the crunch of rawness to them. They also tasted familiar.
He swished the concoction around his mouth to register that no, it clearly was not poison. Just...er…unique? Finally managing to swallow, Dion couldn’t help asking, “What is that?”
Joshua, who had been observing closely, had a cautious and equally puzzled expression on his face, and replied with an equally cautious voice, “The most ghastly thing to ever exist.”
Dion’s brows did a complicated dance over his eyes. And you had just fed me this? he thought. “Oh?” was what came out of him instead.
“Yes.” Joshua’s eyes were wide and animated as he expounded, “They are the most horrible things ever. I daresay the world must hate itself and is punishing itself and us for its existence.”
Dion’s initial disgust and puzzlement dissolved as he sat entranced at the play of expressions on Joshua’s face. “Indeed?”
“In fact, there is nothing in the world I myself hated more.”
Dion could only feel relieved that it wasn’t towards him that hatred was directed at… Or was it? He had been fed that source of hatred, after all. But he could only reply with: “I am all astonishment that there is such a thing in the world.”
“Yes. These blasted things called ‘carrots’.”
“...” For the first time, Dion’s gaze strayed from Joshua and into the bowl he held in his hands. Upon it floated said orange vegetable in various haphazardly sliced shapes. The...soup(?)...from the taste was only simply boiled water with carrots seemingly carelessly thrown in, hence why some tasted as though they were actually cooked and some were not.
He wasn’t really expecting Joshua to be capable of culinary masterpieces-the Elucidated had never reported him to have interest in cooking. But nonetheless Dion couldn’t help feeling endeared over the fact that Joshua went to the trouble, to the utmost effort of however meagre or nonexistent his skill was in the kitchen, to present Dion with something he made. Even if it was something Joshua himself found distasteful. Even if Joshua did this to test Dion, it mattered not. He would accept whatever Joshua gave him without reservations.
Dion opened his mouth once more, inviting Joshua to feed him.
Frowning in consternation, not expecting Dion to want more after that first bite, the redhead nonetheless scooped more of the soup with the spoon and fed them to the Emperor. And on and on did Dion ate, continuously making Joshua ladle more into the bowl until the pot was emptied.
Joshua’s chest expanded in an inhale that rendered him nearly breathless as he watched his husband actually gorge himself on the cooking travesty the redhead presented him with. His heart pounded at the notion of Dion taking into himself something that Joshua hated, readily and without question or reservation. If this was the length that Dion was willing to go to for him, then Joshua himself could truly plunge in, shed all of the reluctance that had been holding him back, that had been disallowing him from accepting all the overtures he had been receiving from Dion.
Speaking of overtures, after the soup pot had been emptied Dion waved his hand, and the servants quickly reset the table, tea with miniature sandwiches and cakes taking their place, the spread familiar to Joshua as he realized they came from his favourite shop.
A raised eyebrow held all his questions to which Dion readily supplied the answers to: “A special order made to the Enchanted Moogle Tea Shoppe for the Consort Phoenix. My gift to you, though incomparable to the one you had presented me with.”
Huffing out a laugh, Joshua wrapped his arms around Dion’s shoulders and pressed their foreheads together. “I agree it’s incomparable. At least your gift is actually edible.”
“Your gift, my beloved Joshua, is more precious for having been made by you.”
Smiling and playfully scratching at the blond strands at Dion’s nape, whispered Joshua, “Thank you, Dion.” Then abruptly pulled back with a frown. “Did you bring them to the palace for this?”
Blond brows furrowed over golden brown eyes in puzzlement, gaze going to the table, then back to the Consort. “They are my gift to you. They had to be brought here. If you would rather we go to the shop itself, we can-”
“How? When they’re already here?”
Thoroughly confused, something told Dion that they were not having the same conversation. This was not how he had been expecting this moment to go. Remembering his status as an imperial, it was the custom that businesses would be invited to the palace to create their concoctions to present to the court. The Emperor could only surmise that that was what his Consort was getting at.
“No,” explained Dion, “I am misunderstood. I dared not disrupt their business by summoning the proprietors of the shop here, knowing how busy they tend to be.”
“Oh, really?” An elegant brow arched higher over blue eyes. “Then how came you by this?”
“I had sent out imperial officials to get what you usually order.”
The brow lowered and Joshua sat back, arms now crossing over his chest. “Imperial officials? And you think their presence wouldn’t have caused a disruption?”
Closing his eyes with a sigh, Dion replied, “They were discreet, I assure you, Joshua.”
“Really.”
The Emperor opened his eyes and nodded. “I gave them an imperial order that they were to go in plainclothes.”
Blue eyes widened with affront. “Imperial order?!” sputtered Joshua in a near screech.
Dion winced, but pressed on, “Anything for the Consort Phoenix’s pleasure warrants such.”
Joshua huffed in continued disbelief. “Dion, that is an abuse of power and I, as the Consort Phoenix, do not approve.”
Dion bowed his head, acquiescing, “Then, as my Consort commands, I hereby will refrain from issuing imperial commands-”
“Nor imperial decrees-” added Joshua.
Dion sighed, then relented, “Nor decrees-”
“For such trivial matters.”
The Emperor sighed again, then brought his other hand on Joshua’s knee, and squeezed both knee and waist. “Matters relating to you are never trivial.”
Joshua opened his mouth to retort, but Dion squeezed him again.
“Ask me not to change my thinking on this. I aim to court you properly, to make up for all these wasted years and my severe mistake. And whatever is permitted to me as the Emperor I will take graciously and gratefully. All to show you my ardor and adoration.”
At that Joshua forcefully pursed his lips, barely managing to cease its spread to a happy smile, but unable to stopper the pleased blush that bloomed his cheeks, feeling its warmth sprawl down his neck and to his chest. Suddenly feeling bashful, he hid his face in Dion’s neck, feeling giddy and airy, tingling as butterflies fluttered in his stomach.
In turn, Dion held him closer, a deep inhale enabling him to take in the scent that made him know what peace and contentment were. Though even entertaining the idea of a small kiss was enough for the chains around his heart to tighten, so he had to refrain from doing so. Even this embrace was adding to the agony, but he was loathe to let go.
Sensing the way Dion’s body tensed, Joshua’s arms loosened and his hand trailed down to rest over the Emperor’s heart.
Dion’s own hand rose to encompass Joshua’s. “What belongs to you will be returned to you,” reassured he to his spouse.
The redhead nodded, leaning forward to rest his forehead against his.
Dion continued, “I only ask that, when the time comes, tell me not.”
Blue met brown, reading in them the guilt and self-censure over the folly of youth in attempting to overturn destiny. In a breathless voice, Joshua whispered, “What were the terms of your oath?”
A pained expression lanced across Dion’s face as he, in an equal whisper, answered, “To stay by his side as long as he lived.”
Joshua grew still, contemplating the implication of such a term. As the Consort, he was the head of the Emperor’s harem-however meager it was with it consisting of just him and the Shining Concubine-and he had a duty to fulfill if a member of the harem had transgressed against their husband.
But the thing was: he wasn’t simply just the Consort. Joshua was the Consort Phoenix. And there never should have been any other in the harem but him.
He shifted in his seat, switching his crossed legs as he resettled himself comfortably in his perch in Dion’s lap. “For such a request, you’ve readied this grand offering for me. How thoughtful, Dion, my husband. Now, you may feed me your offering.”
Dion gave Joshua’s hand a squeeze, before reaching for one of the tiny sandwiches. “This is not for the request,” corrected he, gently plopping the food into his Consort’s waiting mouth. “But I am grateful for my gift to be accepted.” He reached for a serviette to wipe the crumbs off the corners of Joshua’s lips.
Time rolled on as they enjoyed both company and meal. Joshua nursed a cup with both hands, having just allowed Dion a sip of the fragrant black tea. From where the redhead sat, he could see one of Dion’s attendants shuffling nervously, clearly wishing to convey a message but unwilling to interrupt them by approaching. From the corner of his eye he saw another servant urgently approach said attendant from outside the pavilion, looking harried and at a loss.
Joshua turned his attention back to Dion, just in time to meet a bite-sized cake being held up to his lips. He bit into it so quickly that some of the icing got smeared on Dion’s fingers, to which the blond held up to his own mouth to lick. As the Emperor used the serviette to wipe the residual sweetness from his hand, Joshua whispered, “It appears your attention is required, Your Radiance,” then gave a pointed look toward the attendants who now looked to be arguing among themselves.
Turning with a frown in the direction Joshua gestured, Dion watched, then cleared his throat. And, in a voice louder and commanding than what he had been using with the Consort, asked, “What seems to be the matter?”
At that, both servants froze, then fell to their knees. “We apologize, Your Radiance. But the Shining Concubine and members of the House Branford are at the gate, requesting an audience. Er…they’ve been waiting a while and can no longer brook a delay.”
Hn, from inside Bahamut gruffed, his presence surfacing to the fore and rendering Dion’s eyes into a metallic molten gold. How convenient of them to deliver themselves upon a silver platter. Dion thought back to the Elucidated’s reports and relaxed in his seat. He waved his hand. “Invite them in.”
He felt Joshua stiffen in his lap, but Dion held him fast, calmly reaching for another slice of sandwich. And it was to the sight of the Emperor serving his Consort with his own hand that their visitors were greeted by.
Performing the requisite salutations and bows, the three Branfords remained in place, unable to rise since the Emperor had not given them leave yet. They could only watch in varying states of aghast, surprise, confusion, and dismay at the closeness and intimacy being displayed before them.
It was with a sinking feeling that Terence had no such recollection of such a moment between him and Dion. That degree of affection openly displayed-theirs had always been something that seemed illicit, always to be hidden, always proper and formal, always with a certain degree of decorum and distance.
Lady Branford nudged him, signalling with her eyes what they came here for.
Seeing that the Emperor had not once acknowledged their presence since they entered, continuing to serve the Consort with what ever was spread on the table, Terence steeled himself and began to speak, “Your Radiance, please hear our plea. We have come to seek your forgiveness on behalf of my brother, Trevor Branford.”
They waited, but the entreaty seemed to have fallen on deaf ears that Terence raised his voice louder, “Your Radiance, most wise and benevolent, we beseech you-”
“We demand you release my son at once, Your Radiance!” Lord Branford, having reached the last of his incredibly short patience, interrupted with a sharp voice. He had been growing increasingly displeased with Terence’s lacklustre approach and was unable to control himself any longer.
Disgruntled expression clearly on his face at being so rudely disrupted, the Emperor Bahamut sighed, placing back on the plate the cake he had just picked up. Thinking back to the person that was the topic at hand, he smirked as he answered, “Of course, Lord Branford. You may have what remains of him.”
So pleased with himself for how quickly the Emperor gave in to him that it took Lord Branford a moment to fully comprehend the wording.
Gasping in disbelief, Lady Branford croaked in a tremulous voice, “W-what mean you by ‘remains’, Your Radiance?”
Golden eyes finally turned to them. “Exactly as what you think it means, Lady Branford.”
Terence felt a chill down his spine. “Your Radiance, is this a jest?”
Lord Branford seemed to have found his voice once more. “Your Radiance, my son Trevor was only brought to the imperial gaol last night, surely that was already enough as a punishment?”
There was another sigh from the Emperor. The golden gaze lacked warmth as it roved over the party of three, and none of them could meet those eyes for long, dropping their own gazes down to the ground. Cold sweat ran down their backs, every single hair rising in a goosebump as they heard the Emperor’s voice once more, this time distorted with the presence of Bahamut.
“Your son attempted to besmirch the honour of the Consort Phoenix, proclaimed him to have committed adultery-when every one of us here knows that the one who had committed such an act is none other than the Shining Concubine.” The gold eyes fell to Terence at that, then roamed to the other Branfords once more. “Not even severing his head from his body is enough of a punishment for daring to lay a hand upon the Consort Phoenix. Should you not be grateful for the mercy I grant you in reuniting you with the pieces left of your son? That you dare to question whether a night in the imperial gaol is punishment enough…” With a loud growl, the Emperor Bahamut bellowed, “IT IS NOT!”
Above, the Consort murmured in a coaxing voice, “Peace, Dion, my husband.” A hand was at the Emperor’s chin, turning his face towards the redhead.
Dion, my husband… hearing those words uttered, seemingly so easily, had regret and jealousy lace through Terence’s chest. It was something that his voice had always refused to sound out loud.
“Apologies, my beloved,” muttered the Emperor, raising the Consort’s hand to his lips. The gentleness of the tone and gesture increased the pain that stabbed at Terence’s heart.
“Have you becalmed yourself?”
“Yes. I thank you for your care, Joshua.” Turning once more to the three trembling on their knees. “House Branford, in light of the transgressions your entire House has made towards the Crown of Emperor Bahamut the Sixteenth, you and nine generations of your House are all hereby sentenced to death.”
Terence’s ears burned and tears sprang in his eyes. Lady Branford beside him began to wail and plead for mercy.
Lord Branford, however, somehow found the strength and perseverance to protest. “I object! We have made no such transgressions to Your Radiance! We have ever more remained loyal and true to you. I contest any and all charges against our House!”
“First charge: the Shining Concubine has committed adultery against the Emperor-”
“Your Radiance, I plead innocent,” Lord Branford quickly disavowed. “I have no knowledge of such a transgression my son has made towards you.”
“-and proceeded to house the illegitimate progeny sired from the union within his courtyard.”
Closing his eyes tightly, Terence lips trembled as the tears freely escaped. That hour of reckoning he had been fearing was finally coming to pass. And even though he had been expecting it, it didn’t stop the fear from spreading throughout his body.
Emperor Bahamut thought back to the investigations made by the Elucidated. “Second charge: House Branford has been parading the Shining Concubine’s illegitimate child as a bargaining token in negotiations with various Houses, claiming that said child is the Emperor Bahamut’s rightful heir, begotten with the beta Shining Concubine due to Bahamut’s power overriding the inherent secondary gender.”
Terence opened his eyes and turned to his father in disbelief. “Father…how could you?”
“Let it be known that I, as Bahamut, have no such power.”
“It’s all for the glory of House Branford, Terence,” said Lord Branford in a hiss. “Everything is for our family.”
“Third charge: House Branford has been amassing great wealth and creating an army for a rebellion against the empire, all to instate the Shining Concubine’s illegitimate child as heir to the throne, with Lord Branford setting himself to act as regent and rule over Sanbreque.”
“My, that is quite the ambition,” commented the Consort Phoenix before taking a sip of his tea.
“We are ruined! Ruined!” wailed Lady Branford.
“Guards,” called out the Emperor. “Take them away.”
That day was a whirlwind of happenstance and denouement that Terence felt as though he had been lost in a trance, as though he was outside of his body simply watching everything unfold. No doubt, everyone in his courtyard, including his daughter and all his servants-for, in serving the Shining Concubine, they were party in trying to keep Kihel a secret-along with all the members of House Branford old and young, had all been sent to the imperial gaol to await execution. The Emperor seemed to favour a quick enactment of it, judging with how swiftly Trevor had lost his head seemingly as soon as he arrived in gaol.
Instead of the mellow brown irises he was familiar with, he was met with glowing gold, lacking warmth as they gazed at him. Not for the first time Terence wished that the Emperor was not Bahamut, that this ancient dragon was not an inseparable part of the person he wished Dion Lesage had always been. Without this dragon being harbored in the Emperor’s body and soul, Dion would have remained that vulnerable unloved boy he had initially perceived him as.
But really, all he had been doing all his life was tricking himself into believing that Dion needed him. That he alone could truly know who Dion Lesage was. But always was he thwarted by the truth, by history, by the very cycle of the world: the Emperor Bahamut was never alone. The Emperor Bahamut was never unloved. For he held the greatest love that followed him through all his once and future lifetimes.
If Terence had managed to have stayed his tongue...had he steeled himself against the confession that had burst out of him on that fateful hunting day...he wouldn’t be where he was now, inside the Cold Palace that all concubines dreaded, neglected and left only to count his remaining days.
“No words need be said of why you now find yourself here, I trust?” asked Emperor Bahamut.
Terence closed his eyes and pursed his lips in bitterness. All the years of harbouring Kihel could really only lead to this conclusion. He had known that at the first touch and first kiss shared with Leviana. But still-
“Why?” he managed to croak out with a voice thick with tears. Clearing his throat, he elaborated, “Why wait after all this time?”
Emperor Bahamut looked at him as though he couldn’t fathom how Terence had not been able to come up with the answer himself. “To give you the life you could have had had you not set your heart upon one you could never have.”
The brunette couldn’t help the gasp that broke out of him.
“A wife and child of your own. Building a loving family. Incompatible as your second gender with Dion is, this way at least you get a taste of how it could have been. To have people focused on you, loving you and being loved by you-Something that you could never truly have with my human shell.”
Terence winced at hearing the dragon refer to Dion as his shell and couldn’t help but conjure up the image of that lonely boy in his memories, his heart squeezing in his chest. “Was Dion ever real?”
“I am real.”
Terence closed his eyes and shook his head.
“But whatever you imagined my human shell to be, he never was that. That’s an illusion of your own making. Something that you dearly wished could be what you want, but could never come to fruition because you yourself refused to accept my shell for what and who he is. He is me and I am him. Lay your eyes upon me and truly see me for who I am, and not a ghost of your imagining.”
But Terence could not shake that notion that had held him for all this time. “He was a lonely boy who yearned for love.”
“Yes.”
Terence’s expression was about to morph into that of vindication until the Emperor Bahamut’s next words.
“And the only love we could ever have room to yearn for is the Phoenix’s.”
His hands curled into fists, nails digging crescent moons into his palms. “Must you dash my dreams so?”
“Would that such hope could truly help in the twilight hours of your life.”
When before Terence had a difficult time looking at the Dragon Emperor, now he found the will and the strength to gaze at the face he once loved so and feared in equal measures. But even so, he couldn’t bring himself to reconcile them as one person.
“Did Dion-did he actually love me? Had he actually been capable of it?”
Emperor Bahamut nodded, an irked look crossing his face. “Of course he did. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have invoked my name in an oath to you, and thus caused us to be separated from the Phoenix for all this time.”
Molten gold receded from his eyes, and the warm brown was back for one last gaze. There was gratefulness and regret in those orbs. With a hand over his heart, Dion looked as though it was a great struggle to say, “I bid you farewell, Terence.”
Terence could only shape Dion’s name with his lips, even now his voice still unwilling to say it out loud. “Farewell, my prince.”
Outside the Cold Palace, the Consort Phoenix was convening with Jote, the latter nodding acquiescence to Joshua’s instructions. Sensing Dion’s gaze, the redhead turned, stepping forward with hands outstretched. The blond met him halfway, taking those hands and wrapping them around himself, and rested his forehead against his.
“Take to the skies with me,” invited Joshua, earnest blue eyes peering up at melancholy brown.
In reply, wings sprang from Dion’s back as he immediately semi-primed, swiftly ascending with Joshua in his arms. When they were high enough, Joshua himself transformed, the firebird growing too big for Dion’s arms. Bahamut then took over, dragon form weaving with the firebird in the air. Over clouds, they soared, scales and feathers awashed with the afternoon sun, glinting brightly as they rode the winds.
This was how it should be, how it was always meant to be: just the two of them together, side by side in flight. An echo of their past, a mirror in their present, and an imprint of their future. The cycle that must continue on. Bahamut and the Phoenix eternity themselves.
Dion would have laughed for the joy of sharing the sky with Joshua, but around his heart the chains of his oath wove heavy and tight. They constricted their grip on him that he faltered mid-flight, and his great wings struggled to keep him aloft, seeking to keep his gaze forward to the shining red beacon of the Phoenix’s plumes.
But the chains were firm as they held on to him, reminding him of the oath he swore, the oath that he was trying to fly away from, and he couldn’t help growling as he fought against it.
As he floundered in the firmament, he felt an encompassing pain and then-a sudden release. The chains around his heart seemed to have melted, disintegrated, and broke his heart along with it. The agony of it liquefied his limbs and he could no longer control his body. High up in the sky he found himself once more a man, and the grief of the death of the love he had once carried in his heart overwhelmed him, and he could only fall.
Sensing the change, Joshua turned to where the dragon had been, crying out, “Dion!” He immediately changed course and soon after caught him in the air. And in the cradle of bright feathers did Dion succumb to his lamentation.
It is done, he thought.
A/N:
Thanks for reading :)
Jan/2024
=========================
previous chapter | next chapter
author: caledon (the_tower_room)
pairing: Dion/Joshua
rating: E
summary: Having been born the Phoenix meant Joshua was destined to be by Bahamut’s side as his consort.
He didn’t know what he was expecting, but certainly not the situation he found himself in.
Omegaverse AU.
words: 5370
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy XVI belongs to Square Enix.
Chapter 6: My Name in the Sound of Your Voice
“To what do I owe this highest of honours?” asked Dion, face lit with the happiest expression that had ever graced him of late. Still holding Joshua aloft in his arms, slowly he slid him down his body until the redhead’s feet touched the ground and they faced each other eye to eye.
Tightening then loosening his grip on Dion’s shoulders, Joshua narrowed his eyes and scrunched his nose in a rather cute display of admonishment, belying it by then turning and sweeping a hand towards where his maidservants waited at the gate, one of them holding a tray upon which a porcelain covered pot lay. “I have brought a gift,” replied Joshua.
Wonderment blazed in golden brown eyes. “For me?”
The redhead nodded, fingernails unconsciously scratching at Dion’s lapels. “Yes. If you will allow one made by my mediocre hands.”
Dion couldn’t help the sharp inhale of disbelief. “You…made a gift…for me?”
Joshua pursed his lips bashfully. “I…yes.”
By a strange turn of events, Dion himself had a gift for Joshua, but it was still in the process of preparation and, much to his chagrin, was not created personally by himself.
From what he had observed from the Elucidated’s reports on the Consort over the years, Joshua had liked visiting the shops scattered all over Oriflamme, loved exploring the city and seeing what it offered, even trying newly opened places to experience the atmosphere. In each one the Consort Phoenix had found a favourite, and it was from one of these that Dion had bidden his servants to procure one such. He would have gone through the effort of going out there and getting it himself, however, due to the previous night’s scandal it was best for him to lay low.
The Emperor grabbed his Consort’s hands and brought them to his lips. “Then there is no other way but to accept gracefully and with all of my heart whatever it is my beloved Joshua has made for me with these very hands. I cannot wait.”
Hearing his name fall from Dion’s lips and feeling the tingle of the kiss on his knuckles, Joshua couldn’t help smiling, a flush of pleasure warming his cheeks. “W-well then,” he stuttered in happiness, then cleared his throat in an effort to compose himself. “If that is so, lead me to a convenient location where I may properly present you with my gift…” Then he added-to give the Emperor a taste of his own medicine, “Dion.”
The Emperor felt as though he had been struck, his own ears reddening at hearing his name uttered by Joshua, mind grown blank as he lost himself to the echoes of the Consort Phoenix’s voice combined with his name. Several seconds seemed to have passed by with him just simply staring at the redhead in wonder, with said redhead gradually growing alarmed at Dion’s continued silence. The blond shook himself from the stupor, threw a chagrined smile at Joshua as an apology, before leading him with a hand at the small of his back towards the gate of his training ground.
One of the gardens in the Emperor’s courtyard was perched on the cliff that overlooked the sea, the pavilion offering a panoramic view of the lush surroundings of the clear sky and the sparkling body of water.
On the dining table in the middle of the room the servants had set fine china and utensils, and as a centrepiece was the pot that held Joshua’s gift. As the Consort invited him to take a seat, Dion saw from his periphery the imperial officials he had sent out earlier that morning, and he gave them a signal to wait before turning his gaze once more to Joshua.
An indescribable feeling swept through Dion’s chest at the image of domesticity presented by his Consort ladling the food he himself had prepared for the Emperor into a bowl. Dion had been served all his life but always it was out of a sense of duty, a job performed. But from a spouse-for Joshua himself to take the time and effort to make something especially for Dion...there was a sense of lightness that engulfed his heart. Golden brown eyes roved over the features of Joshua’s face, taking in the soft curves of his cheeks and jaw, noting how the heart-shaped lips were pursed in concentration, making Dion’s own lips pull into a smile. His gaze roamed down to the slim column of Joshua’s neck and to the vee of his chest exposed by the loose folds of his robes and to the rosy nipples playing peek-a-boo through them...
A breath caught in Dion’s throat, making him choke. Suddenly finding his throat had gone dry, he attempted to swallow and licked his lips, remembering the texture of those twin buds against his lips and tongue on their wedding night so many years back. He shifted in his seat, the act inadvertently affording him a better view. All of a sudden the hunger in him had changed; now he wanted to feast in a banquet that he had only partaken of once on their wedding night.
The memory came to fore and Dion was reminded of how he had made Joshua lose himself to the sensation with each swipe of tongue and bite of teeth he had delivered upon the teat.
A growl rumbled from deep within his chest, the dragon inside him restless and with patience waning. In answer, the chains around his heart squeezed in warning, and he closed his eyes, muscles ticking at his jaws as he clutched at the armrest of his chair. Soon, he thought, reminded of the reports the Elucidated had been investigating and compiling for him, readying him for what was to come.
Opening his eyes, he took one last peek at those twin peaks down Joshua’s robes, contenting himself with the thought that freedom was nigh and he needed only soldier through this last little while.
The bowl now filled up, Joshua turned to face him, holding said bowl up to him with a look of expectation on his face.
Not breaking eye contact, Dion sat back in his chair and tapped his leg, a clear invitation for Joshua to perch upon. Sighing with a put-upon expression, the redhead did as bidden, gracefully plopping himself down and crossing one leg over the other, making himself comfortable. To secure him in place, Dion wrapped an arm around his waist. Then, without looking at the bowl that Joshua was offering, Dion nodded at it and opened his mouth. Rolling his blue eyes and with lips twisted, Joshua reached for the spoon on the table and ladled a scoop of his creation and fed it to his husband.
At that first mouthful, the excited look on Dion’s face morphed to one of disgust and puzzlement as he struggled to comprehend just what exactly had been fed to him. It clearly was liquid, and there were some...textures? Some were soft enough to chew quickly and some still had the crunch of rawness to them. They also tasted familiar.
He swished the concoction around his mouth to register that no, it clearly was not poison. Just...er…unique? Finally managing to swallow, Dion couldn’t help asking, “What is that?”
Joshua, who had been observing closely, had a cautious and equally puzzled expression on his face, and replied with an equally cautious voice, “The most ghastly thing to ever exist.”
Dion’s brows did a complicated dance over his eyes. And you had just fed me this? he thought. “Oh?” was what came out of him instead.
“Yes.” Joshua’s eyes were wide and animated as he expounded, “They are the most horrible things ever. I daresay the world must hate itself and is punishing itself and us for its existence.”
Dion’s initial disgust and puzzlement dissolved as he sat entranced at the play of expressions on Joshua’s face. “Indeed?”
“In fact, there is nothing in the world I myself hated more.”
Dion could only feel relieved that it wasn’t towards him that hatred was directed at… Or was it? He had been fed that source of hatred, after all. But he could only reply with: “I am all astonishment that there is such a thing in the world.”
“Yes. These blasted things called ‘carrots’.”
“...” For the first time, Dion’s gaze strayed from Joshua and into the bowl he held in his hands. Upon it floated said orange vegetable in various haphazardly sliced shapes. The...soup(?)...from the taste was only simply boiled water with carrots seemingly carelessly thrown in, hence why some tasted as though they were actually cooked and some were not.
He wasn’t really expecting Joshua to be capable of culinary masterpieces-the Elucidated had never reported him to have interest in cooking. But nonetheless Dion couldn’t help feeling endeared over the fact that Joshua went to the trouble, to the utmost effort of however meagre or nonexistent his skill was in the kitchen, to present Dion with something he made. Even if it was something Joshua himself found distasteful. Even if Joshua did this to test Dion, it mattered not. He would accept whatever Joshua gave him without reservations.
Dion opened his mouth once more, inviting Joshua to feed him.
Frowning in consternation, not expecting Dion to want more after that first bite, the redhead nonetheless scooped more of the soup with the spoon and fed them to the Emperor. And on and on did Dion ate, continuously making Joshua ladle more into the bowl until the pot was emptied.
Joshua’s chest expanded in an inhale that rendered him nearly breathless as he watched his husband actually gorge himself on the cooking travesty the redhead presented him with. His heart pounded at the notion of Dion taking into himself something that Joshua hated, readily and without question or reservation. If this was the length that Dion was willing to go to for him, then Joshua himself could truly plunge in, shed all of the reluctance that had been holding him back, that had been disallowing him from accepting all the overtures he had been receiving from Dion.
Speaking of overtures, after the soup pot had been emptied Dion waved his hand, and the servants quickly reset the table, tea with miniature sandwiches and cakes taking their place, the spread familiar to Joshua as he realized they came from his favourite shop.
A raised eyebrow held all his questions to which Dion readily supplied the answers to: “A special order made to the Enchanted Moogle Tea Shoppe for the Consort Phoenix. My gift to you, though incomparable to the one you had presented me with.”
Huffing out a laugh, Joshua wrapped his arms around Dion’s shoulders and pressed their foreheads together. “I agree it’s incomparable. At least your gift is actually edible.”
“Your gift, my beloved Joshua, is more precious for having been made by you.”
Smiling and playfully scratching at the blond strands at Dion’s nape, whispered Joshua, “Thank you, Dion.” Then abruptly pulled back with a frown. “Did you bring them to the palace for this?”
Blond brows furrowed over golden brown eyes in puzzlement, gaze going to the table, then back to the Consort. “They are my gift to you. They had to be brought here. If you would rather we go to the shop itself, we can-”
“How? When they’re already here?”
Thoroughly confused, something told Dion that they were not having the same conversation. This was not how he had been expecting this moment to go. Remembering his status as an imperial, it was the custom that businesses would be invited to the palace to create their concoctions to present to the court. The Emperor could only surmise that that was what his Consort was getting at.
“No,” explained Dion, “I am misunderstood. I dared not disrupt their business by summoning the proprietors of the shop here, knowing how busy they tend to be.”
“Oh, really?” An elegant brow arched higher over blue eyes. “Then how came you by this?”
“I had sent out imperial officials to get what you usually order.”
The brow lowered and Joshua sat back, arms now crossing over his chest. “Imperial officials? And you think their presence wouldn’t have caused a disruption?”
Closing his eyes with a sigh, Dion replied, “They were discreet, I assure you, Joshua.”
“Really.”
The Emperor opened his eyes and nodded. “I gave them an imperial order that they were to go in plainclothes.”
Blue eyes widened with affront. “Imperial order?!” sputtered Joshua in a near screech.
Dion winced, but pressed on, “Anything for the Consort Phoenix’s pleasure warrants such.”
Joshua huffed in continued disbelief. “Dion, that is an abuse of power and I, as the Consort Phoenix, do not approve.”
Dion bowed his head, acquiescing, “Then, as my Consort commands, I hereby will refrain from issuing imperial commands-”
“Nor imperial decrees-” added Joshua.
Dion sighed, then relented, “Nor decrees-”
“For such trivial matters.”
The Emperor sighed again, then brought his other hand on Joshua’s knee, and squeezed both knee and waist. “Matters relating to you are never trivial.”
Joshua opened his mouth to retort, but Dion squeezed him again.
“Ask me not to change my thinking on this. I aim to court you properly, to make up for all these wasted years and my severe mistake. And whatever is permitted to me as the Emperor I will take graciously and gratefully. All to show you my ardor and adoration.”
At that Joshua forcefully pursed his lips, barely managing to cease its spread to a happy smile, but unable to stopper the pleased blush that bloomed his cheeks, feeling its warmth sprawl down his neck and to his chest. Suddenly feeling bashful, he hid his face in Dion’s neck, feeling giddy and airy, tingling as butterflies fluttered in his stomach.
In turn, Dion held him closer, a deep inhale enabling him to take in the scent that made him know what peace and contentment were. Though even entertaining the idea of a small kiss was enough for the chains around his heart to tighten, so he had to refrain from doing so. Even this embrace was adding to the agony, but he was loathe to let go.
Sensing the way Dion’s body tensed, Joshua’s arms loosened and his hand trailed down to rest over the Emperor’s heart.
Dion’s own hand rose to encompass Joshua’s. “What belongs to you will be returned to you,” reassured he to his spouse.
The redhead nodded, leaning forward to rest his forehead against his.
Dion continued, “I only ask that, when the time comes, tell me not.”
Blue met brown, reading in them the guilt and self-censure over the folly of youth in attempting to overturn destiny. In a breathless voice, Joshua whispered, “What were the terms of your oath?”
A pained expression lanced across Dion’s face as he, in an equal whisper, answered, “To stay by his side as long as he lived.”
Joshua grew still, contemplating the implication of such a term. As the Consort, he was the head of the Emperor’s harem-however meager it was with it consisting of just him and the Shining Concubine-and he had a duty to fulfill if a member of the harem had transgressed against their husband.
But the thing was: he wasn’t simply just the Consort. Joshua was the Consort Phoenix. And there never should have been any other in the harem but him.
He shifted in his seat, switching his crossed legs as he resettled himself comfortably in his perch in Dion’s lap. “For such a request, you’ve readied this grand offering for me. How thoughtful, Dion, my husband. Now, you may feed me your offering.”
Dion gave Joshua’s hand a squeeze, before reaching for one of the tiny sandwiches. “This is not for the request,” corrected he, gently plopping the food into his Consort’s waiting mouth. “But I am grateful for my gift to be accepted.” He reached for a serviette to wipe the crumbs off the corners of Joshua’s lips.
Time rolled on as they enjoyed both company and meal. Joshua nursed a cup with both hands, having just allowed Dion a sip of the fragrant black tea. From where the redhead sat, he could see one of Dion’s attendants shuffling nervously, clearly wishing to convey a message but unwilling to interrupt them by approaching. From the corner of his eye he saw another servant urgently approach said attendant from outside the pavilion, looking harried and at a loss.
Joshua turned his attention back to Dion, just in time to meet a bite-sized cake being held up to his lips. He bit into it so quickly that some of the icing got smeared on Dion’s fingers, to which the blond held up to his own mouth to lick. As the Emperor used the serviette to wipe the residual sweetness from his hand, Joshua whispered, “It appears your attention is required, Your Radiance,” then gave a pointed look toward the attendants who now looked to be arguing among themselves.
Turning with a frown in the direction Joshua gestured, Dion watched, then cleared his throat. And, in a voice louder and commanding than what he had been using with the Consort, asked, “What seems to be the matter?”
At that, both servants froze, then fell to their knees. “We apologize, Your Radiance. But the Shining Concubine and members of the House Branford are at the gate, requesting an audience. Er…they’ve been waiting a while and can no longer brook a delay.”
Hn, from inside Bahamut gruffed, his presence surfacing to the fore and rendering Dion’s eyes into a metallic molten gold. How convenient of them to deliver themselves upon a silver platter. Dion thought back to the Elucidated’s reports and relaxed in his seat. He waved his hand. “Invite them in.”
He felt Joshua stiffen in his lap, but Dion held him fast, calmly reaching for another slice of sandwich. And it was to the sight of the Emperor serving his Consort with his own hand that their visitors were greeted by.
Performing the requisite salutations and bows, the three Branfords remained in place, unable to rise since the Emperor had not given them leave yet. They could only watch in varying states of aghast, surprise, confusion, and dismay at the closeness and intimacy being displayed before them.
It was with a sinking feeling that Terence had no such recollection of such a moment between him and Dion. That degree of affection openly displayed-theirs had always been something that seemed illicit, always to be hidden, always proper and formal, always with a certain degree of decorum and distance.
Lady Branford nudged him, signalling with her eyes what they came here for.
Seeing that the Emperor had not once acknowledged their presence since they entered, continuing to serve the Consort with what ever was spread on the table, Terence steeled himself and began to speak, “Your Radiance, please hear our plea. We have come to seek your forgiveness on behalf of my brother, Trevor Branford.”
They waited, but the entreaty seemed to have fallen on deaf ears that Terence raised his voice louder, “Your Radiance, most wise and benevolent, we beseech you-”
“We demand you release my son at once, Your Radiance!” Lord Branford, having reached the last of his incredibly short patience, interrupted with a sharp voice. He had been growing increasingly displeased with Terence’s lacklustre approach and was unable to control himself any longer.
Disgruntled expression clearly on his face at being so rudely disrupted, the Emperor Bahamut sighed, placing back on the plate the cake he had just picked up. Thinking back to the person that was the topic at hand, he smirked as he answered, “Of course, Lord Branford. You may have what remains of him.”
So pleased with himself for how quickly the Emperor gave in to him that it took Lord Branford a moment to fully comprehend the wording.
Gasping in disbelief, Lady Branford croaked in a tremulous voice, “W-what mean you by ‘remains’, Your Radiance?”
Golden eyes finally turned to them. “Exactly as what you think it means, Lady Branford.”
Terence felt a chill down his spine. “Your Radiance, is this a jest?”
Lord Branford seemed to have found his voice once more. “Your Radiance, my son Trevor was only brought to the imperial gaol last night, surely that was already enough as a punishment?”
There was another sigh from the Emperor. The golden gaze lacked warmth as it roved over the party of three, and none of them could meet those eyes for long, dropping their own gazes down to the ground. Cold sweat ran down their backs, every single hair rising in a goosebump as they heard the Emperor’s voice once more, this time distorted with the presence of Bahamut.
“Your son attempted to besmirch the honour of the Consort Phoenix, proclaimed him to have committed adultery-when every one of us here knows that the one who had committed such an act is none other than the Shining Concubine.” The gold eyes fell to Terence at that, then roamed to the other Branfords once more. “Not even severing his head from his body is enough of a punishment for daring to lay a hand upon the Consort Phoenix. Should you not be grateful for the mercy I grant you in reuniting you with the pieces left of your son? That you dare to question whether a night in the imperial gaol is punishment enough…” With a loud growl, the Emperor Bahamut bellowed, “IT IS NOT!”
Above, the Consort murmured in a coaxing voice, “Peace, Dion, my husband.” A hand was at the Emperor’s chin, turning his face towards the redhead.
Dion, my husband… hearing those words uttered, seemingly so easily, had regret and jealousy lace through Terence’s chest. It was something that his voice had always refused to sound out loud.
“Apologies, my beloved,” muttered the Emperor, raising the Consort’s hand to his lips. The gentleness of the tone and gesture increased the pain that stabbed at Terence’s heart.
“Have you becalmed yourself?”
“Yes. I thank you for your care, Joshua.” Turning once more to the three trembling on their knees. “House Branford, in light of the transgressions your entire House has made towards the Crown of Emperor Bahamut the Sixteenth, you and nine generations of your House are all hereby sentenced to death.”
Terence’s ears burned and tears sprang in his eyes. Lady Branford beside him began to wail and plead for mercy.
Lord Branford, however, somehow found the strength and perseverance to protest. “I object! We have made no such transgressions to Your Radiance! We have ever more remained loyal and true to you. I contest any and all charges against our House!”
“First charge: the Shining Concubine has committed adultery against the Emperor-”
“Your Radiance, I plead innocent,” Lord Branford quickly disavowed. “I have no knowledge of such a transgression my son has made towards you.”
“-and proceeded to house the illegitimate progeny sired from the union within his courtyard.”
Closing his eyes tightly, Terence lips trembled as the tears freely escaped. That hour of reckoning he had been fearing was finally coming to pass. And even though he had been expecting it, it didn’t stop the fear from spreading throughout his body.
Emperor Bahamut thought back to the investigations made by the Elucidated. “Second charge: House Branford has been parading the Shining Concubine’s illegitimate child as a bargaining token in negotiations with various Houses, claiming that said child is the Emperor Bahamut’s rightful heir, begotten with the beta Shining Concubine due to Bahamut’s power overriding the inherent secondary gender.”
Terence opened his eyes and turned to his father in disbelief. “Father…how could you?”
“Let it be known that I, as Bahamut, have no such power.”
“It’s all for the glory of House Branford, Terence,” said Lord Branford in a hiss. “Everything is for our family.”
“Third charge: House Branford has been amassing great wealth and creating an army for a rebellion against the empire, all to instate the Shining Concubine’s illegitimate child as heir to the throne, with Lord Branford setting himself to act as regent and rule over Sanbreque.”
“My, that is quite the ambition,” commented the Consort Phoenix before taking a sip of his tea.
“We are ruined! Ruined!” wailed Lady Branford.
“Guards,” called out the Emperor. “Take them away.”
That day was a whirlwind of happenstance and denouement that Terence felt as though he had been lost in a trance, as though he was outside of his body simply watching everything unfold. No doubt, everyone in his courtyard, including his daughter and all his servants-for, in serving the Shining Concubine, they were party in trying to keep Kihel a secret-along with all the members of House Branford old and young, had all been sent to the imperial gaol to await execution. The Emperor seemed to favour a quick enactment of it, judging with how swiftly Trevor had lost his head seemingly as soon as he arrived in gaol.
Instead of the mellow brown irises he was familiar with, he was met with glowing gold, lacking warmth as they gazed at him. Not for the first time Terence wished that the Emperor was not Bahamut, that this ancient dragon was not an inseparable part of the person he wished Dion Lesage had always been. Without this dragon being harbored in the Emperor’s body and soul, Dion would have remained that vulnerable unloved boy he had initially perceived him as.
But really, all he had been doing all his life was tricking himself into believing that Dion needed him. That he alone could truly know who Dion Lesage was. But always was he thwarted by the truth, by history, by the very cycle of the world: the Emperor Bahamut was never alone. The Emperor Bahamut was never unloved. For he held the greatest love that followed him through all his once and future lifetimes.
If Terence had managed to have stayed his tongue...had he steeled himself against the confession that had burst out of him on that fateful hunting day...he wouldn’t be where he was now, inside the Cold Palace that all concubines dreaded, neglected and left only to count his remaining days.
“No words need be said of why you now find yourself here, I trust?” asked Emperor Bahamut.
Terence closed his eyes and pursed his lips in bitterness. All the years of harbouring Kihel could really only lead to this conclusion. He had known that at the first touch and first kiss shared with Leviana. But still-
“Why?” he managed to croak out with a voice thick with tears. Clearing his throat, he elaborated, “Why wait after all this time?”
Emperor Bahamut looked at him as though he couldn’t fathom how Terence had not been able to come up with the answer himself. “To give you the life you could have had had you not set your heart upon one you could never have.”
The brunette couldn’t help the gasp that broke out of him.
“A wife and child of your own. Building a loving family. Incompatible as your second gender with Dion is, this way at least you get a taste of how it could have been. To have people focused on you, loving you and being loved by you-Something that you could never truly have with my human shell.”
Terence winced at hearing the dragon refer to Dion as his shell and couldn’t help but conjure up the image of that lonely boy in his memories, his heart squeezing in his chest. “Was Dion ever real?”
“I am real.”
Terence closed his eyes and shook his head.
“But whatever you imagined my human shell to be, he never was that. That’s an illusion of your own making. Something that you dearly wished could be what you want, but could never come to fruition because you yourself refused to accept my shell for what and who he is. He is me and I am him. Lay your eyes upon me and truly see me for who I am, and not a ghost of your imagining.”
But Terence could not shake that notion that had held him for all this time. “He was a lonely boy who yearned for love.”
“Yes.”
Terence’s expression was about to morph into that of vindication until the Emperor Bahamut’s next words.
“And the only love we could ever have room to yearn for is the Phoenix’s.”
His hands curled into fists, nails digging crescent moons into his palms. “Must you dash my dreams so?”
“Would that such hope could truly help in the twilight hours of your life.”
When before Terence had a difficult time looking at the Dragon Emperor, now he found the will and the strength to gaze at the face he once loved so and feared in equal measures. But even so, he couldn’t bring himself to reconcile them as one person.
“Did Dion-did he actually love me? Had he actually been capable of it?”
Emperor Bahamut nodded, an irked look crossing his face. “Of course he did. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have invoked my name in an oath to you, and thus caused us to be separated from the Phoenix for all this time.”
Molten gold receded from his eyes, and the warm brown was back for one last gaze. There was gratefulness and regret in those orbs. With a hand over his heart, Dion looked as though it was a great struggle to say, “I bid you farewell, Terence.”
Terence could only shape Dion’s name with his lips, even now his voice still unwilling to say it out loud. “Farewell, my prince.”
Outside the Cold Palace, the Consort Phoenix was convening with Jote, the latter nodding acquiescence to Joshua’s instructions. Sensing Dion’s gaze, the redhead turned, stepping forward with hands outstretched. The blond met him halfway, taking those hands and wrapping them around himself, and rested his forehead against his.
“Take to the skies with me,” invited Joshua, earnest blue eyes peering up at melancholy brown.
In reply, wings sprang from Dion’s back as he immediately semi-primed, swiftly ascending with Joshua in his arms. When they were high enough, Joshua himself transformed, the firebird growing too big for Dion’s arms. Bahamut then took over, dragon form weaving with the firebird in the air. Over clouds, they soared, scales and feathers awashed with the afternoon sun, glinting brightly as they rode the winds.
This was how it should be, how it was always meant to be: just the two of them together, side by side in flight. An echo of their past, a mirror in their present, and an imprint of their future. The cycle that must continue on. Bahamut and the Phoenix eternity themselves.
Dion would have laughed for the joy of sharing the sky with Joshua, but around his heart the chains of his oath wove heavy and tight. They constricted their grip on him that he faltered mid-flight, and his great wings struggled to keep him aloft, seeking to keep his gaze forward to the shining red beacon of the Phoenix’s plumes.
But the chains were firm as they held on to him, reminding him of the oath he swore, the oath that he was trying to fly away from, and he couldn’t help growling as he fought against it.
As he floundered in the firmament, he felt an encompassing pain and then-a sudden release. The chains around his heart seemed to have melted, disintegrated, and broke his heart along with it. The agony of it liquefied his limbs and he could no longer control his body. High up in the sky he found himself once more a man, and the grief of the death of the love he had once carried in his heart overwhelmed him, and he could only fall.
Sensing the change, Joshua turned to where the dragon had been, crying out, “Dion!” He immediately changed course and soon after caught him in the air. And in the cradle of bright feathers did Dion succumb to his lamentation.
It is done, he thought.
A/N:
Thanks for reading :)
Jan/2024
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