PARALLEL FATE !

black eagles student affiliated with TOA.

[direceart]

tine

[frievaled]

moral of the story - & dimitri

MISSION TASK BOARD: Scouts returning from afield have been returning with reports equally conflicting and strange: some say there’s a beast of a man running about with an axe for an arm, and that he is seen only by day, and only from a distance, as though he knows to evade pursuers. Others say that no, the large bipedal beast appears only at night and wields a stick, alongside all manner of crude tools that seem to suggest the intelligence to set small traps. In the name of research, authorities want the beast captured, preferably alive, but if it starts to become a nuisance… [ Grants Lance +1 ]

          she wonders if such stories were made concerning the house of friege.  ruthless.  monsters.  executioners in their own right.  those who sought only the pain and grief of others; downed every tear and broken heart as if only that could feed them.  tine has heard many stories of her family, some that even she cannot deem true or false but yet... these rumors... these slips of frightened men and strange sightings..... why is she so obsessed with it all?

          (   calling the closure to this mystery as fruitful would be a lie.  there is nothing to gain in false rumors and the broken symphonies of reality.  she knows this.  she knows this.   )

          tine steps out of the tent, clutching onto the map and journal she had been given by the knight.  she forgets exactly how she had agreed to such a mission.  while her loyalty lied within her house, this wasn’t a quest set for them.  for her.  the camp is small, knights and students alike running around to gather equipment and define a strategy before night fell.  the earlier hours of the day were spent with retrieving the members of the team; she cannot recognize any of them.

          and she realizes that she’s been standing there, staring aimlessly at the camp, for quite a minute because the knight comes out of the tent and puts a hand on her shoulder   —   tine flinches, hard, and she curses at herself for the immediate reaction.   “   are you alright?   ”   they ask, giving her the flash of a polite and warming smile.

          tine smiles back, small and thin.   “   yes, thank you.  sorry,   ”   and with that, she quickly moves away.  the map and notes in her hands are for, what she thinks, is her and her partner.  the team will be split into pairings, first for the quick scouting and interviewing the locals.  her partner is here, just around the corner and—

          her face hits someone’s chest and she, unfortunately and too easily, sways backward with the recoil.  the map falls from her hand as she crashes to the ground, notes still clutching to her chest.   “   i-i’m sorry,   ”   tine stutters out, rubbing her flushed nose as she gives the person a nod.  but it stops there.  her gaze rises to meet the recognizable face of... oh no.

          “   prince... dimitri?  oh, i-i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to crash into you   —   are you hurt?  did i dirty your uniform?   ”

          to call this fright would be incorrect.  for it’s not the fear of him that causes the apologies to rush from her lips, but the realization that she may have angered a noble is... heavy.  the bits of respect that the friege name has, it’s been carefully built and structured for the past two years.  but for it all to wither away upon a single noble’s distaste   —   that wouldn’t do.  please, don’t be mad.

starter for @elegiac-boar

[frievaled]

i’ll make a leader out of you - & linoan

NON-MISSION TASK BOARD: You’ve co-taught your peers, now it’s time to take it to the next level! A nearby village has had enough of their unruly children behaving like gremlins and have begged the church for aid. Their hope is that a little bit of learning might sate their unrelenting energy for a moment or two - and if not, well, at least they’ll have a day’s respite to gather themselves back up.  Grab a partner and a lesson plan and meet your new students, and maybe take care not to lose any of them. [ Grants Authority +1 ]

          five.  tine counts five children running about in the classroom.  while it’s not the best classroom in appearance, tine cares less for it’s condition and more so of the children’s... activities.  two of the children have been wrestling for the past thirty minutes, with one of the girls carrying a stick and acting as, what tine’s thinks, is a referee.  from the back of the class sits two boys, hunched over the top of a desk, gathering rocks of many sizes.

          the last two kids, making the total number of children be seven   —   twins, from what tine caught from the attendance board   —   are nowhere to be seen.  tine remembers one of the village ladies having taken them to wash up a couple of minutes ago.  they should be back in a bit, hopefully.

          she gives the classroom one final glance before turning her attention to the hallway, making haste to continue down towards the office further into the corridor.  her arrival was supposed to have been earlier and yet she had found that the carriage transporting her had been flagged down and the street being... swarmed by the young villagers.  something about a candy transport being mistaken as her carriage had been told to her by the lady knight who proposed that they finish the trip on horseback.

          the door opens with a low groan.  tine keeps the door open for the lady knight as they both step inside, where three of the villagers can be seen with...   “   lady linoan,   ”   tine greets her with a nod, lips turned immediately into a neutral frown at the sight of the other.  an expression of confusion rather than irritation.

          “   thank goodness, you’ve made it!   ”   one of the ladies exclaims, both hands raised to her chest in exasperation.  tine nods again, able to manage a small smile before moving her focus to linoan.   “   word has reached that most of the transportation leading into the village has been... cut off by some of children here,   ”   the lady continues,   “   and for that, i am sorry.  the church shouldn’t have to deal with our children as well as be hurt by their disobedience.   ”

          tine turns only to tilt her head,   “   they’re still children, it’s not entirely the village’s fault.   ”   but wise words spoken by someone without the life a child has lived.  she continues before the lady can apologize once more,   “   teaching them might not... help, but depending the lesson plan, we might be able to do something.   ”

          the lady knight nods and smiles, gesturing to the door,   “   i’ve been sent here to escort the academy’s students as well as make sure that the rest of the village calms down and takes this time as a leisure.  please, follow me.   ”   there are a few exclamations, some of gratitude and others of worry, but either way, the three adults leave; one of them, a younger lady with bright yet short hair, hands a clipboard to linoan on her way out.

          once they’re gone and the door closes, tine sighs, dropping her arms from where they had crossed over her chest.   “   i... apologize, lady linoan,   ”   she starts, hesitant and soft,   “   while i may be good with children, teaching is... i may not be much help.   ”   her ability to calm children is... well, she isn’t sure where it might have stemmed from.  her life had been a void of interactions, a time where nothing and no one else besides those who visited her through closed doors had existed.

          “   i’m not sure what we could teach them that won’t bore them into a fit of disobedience.   ”

starter for @luxichor

[frievaled]

a kiss as if trying to answer a question / a kiss to prove a point (the point is that he loves her)

kiss, kiss!

         "   it’s alright if you don’t... love me back,   ”

          the words come through the beginnings of a smile, a confession.  she had become too comfortable; she allowed herself to curl into morgan’s embrace, tangle her fingers in his unruly hair and rest in the vulnerability of the moment.  tine forgets what caused the sentiment to leave her lips.  exhaustion, maybe.  her voice is groggy and unbearably soft, but... she likes it this way.  as if her confession was for him and him alone.  but it falls onto silence; morgan has yet to awaken.  his face is pressed against the front of her nightgown, arm tossed lazily around her waist.

          tine sighs, an inner conflict of admittance and concealment on her tongue.  she should speak, use her voice and let go of this weight in her chest.  she loves morgan.  she loves him and... she isn’t sure if the feeling is mutual.  the admiration that slips into her voice at the very sight of him.  the pleasant realization that she’s open around him; her insecurities and troubles, he’ll listen and hold her throughout them.

          the curtains that cover the windows to her room are too heavy   —   it leaves them in a faint darkness even though the hour of the day is, in fact, later in the morning.  classes might have begun, but tine doesn’t make a move to wake morgan up.

          “   you’re a good person,   ”   my love, she almost whispers, you’re a good person, my love.   “   but i... i fear you’re too... good.   ”   for her, for this world, what has she done to deserve such an individual in her life.  someone who has slipped through the cracks of her confidence and made a home of her heart.  when has her face felt this warm before?

          tine pauses, again, and at the silence that follows, she exhales in relief.   “   i want to stay with you—   ”   the confession strikes only an unconscious mind and the sound of her beating heart.   “   —and this... this... i can’t.   ”   tine can feel the tears before they begin to prick her eyes so she takes in a breath, one moment more of peace, before attempting to untangle herself from morgan’s embrace and the blankets.  yet... she doesn’t move.  she can’t move.

          and all she has the time to make is a confused, soft noise akin to a huh before she’s pulled down, the arm around her waist suddenly moved to her arm.  morgan’s lips press against the corner of hers, the mark missed only by a few spaces and yet the message is all the same.  heat rises to her face as she splutters out something incoherent; an apology is what it sounds like but even she isn’t sure.

          “   m-morgan, you—   ”   she’s silenced by another kiss, proper this time.  tine grabs morgan’s shoulder and forces herself to pull away, face flushed and   —   he mumbles something, his voice surprisingly lacking the thickness that sleep would give it.  tine swallows, hard.  she hears him, the confession, the balancing comment; ‘ i love you ’.

          her hand twitches against his shoulder, the pads of her fingers digging into his shirt.   “   you... you weren’t sleeping,   ”   and it’s the lazy grin she’s given in return that causes her blush to darken, but without the fleeting heaviness of embarrassment behind it.  she smiles, too, but weakly.  as if the idea of being loved back is enough to exhaust her.

          this time, when morgan tilts his head, tine allows him to kiss her.  and she thinks that, maybe, his usual declarations of her worth were right.  maybe she did deserve this joy simmering in her chest.

[frievaled]

YOUR CHARACTER IN FIVE QUOTES!

( repost, do not reblog. )

Tell us your favorite quotes from your character. Give us an idea of who they are by five things they’ve said. Then tag your friends.

“The villagers all think they’re an army of liberators, but why did they have to kill Ishtore? Oh, I don’t know what to do. Mother… I wish you were here…”   ( FE4, Chapter 7: Passing the Desert — Conquering Melgen, before the player phase. )

“Yeah… Anyway, Hilda really had it in for my mum. My mum put up with so much to keep me safe. A day didn’t go by that she wasn’t crying…”   ( FE4, Chapter 10: Light and Dark — Leif and Tine’s conversation. )

“I don’t think so! Mother, please watch! I’m going to kill Hilda!!”   ( FE4, Final Chapter: The Last Holy War — Hilda and Tine’s battle conversation. )

“Well, I’m not budging. I’m not letting what happened to Deirdre to happen to me too! Please, Seliph… Just let me stay near you!”   ( FE4, Final Chapter: The Last Holy War — Seliph and Tine’s conversation. )

“I can’t wait to return to Alster. I really want to work for the people when I get back.”   ( FE4, Final Chapter: The Last Holy War — Leif and Tine’s conversation. )

Tagged by: the dash!!

Tagging: any bestie who wants to do this

[frievaled]

Though ever the recluse, there is something about the newest arrival to the medical tent that compels Salem to approach with a cup of freshly brewed tea. The girl is young, though the way she curls in on herself lends an even more child-like appearance that reminds him of the occasions that he would find the ebullient Tina tear-stained and homesick in some forgotten corner of the Dandelion's shack.

"It seems you fought hard," he says simply and offers the warm cup to her. "It's chamomile, if you would like it."

          knees pulled up to her chest, arms wedged between and crossed, tine bows her head as the monk finishes checking on her once again.  guilt continues to plague her mind yet teases her with the idea of crying.  a leader must stand up after a fall; if one mere loss can keep them on their knees then what was the strength that they took to carrying their responsibilities?

          maybe her confidence   (   or what’s left of it   )   wouldn’t have taken such a beating if her magic hadn’t faltered as easily.  as if she wasn’t the great mage she had fought so hard to be.  it was a pathetic display of her power; her incantation stuttered, her thunder whispered instead of cracked, what was wrong with her?

          tine opens her eyes   —   unsure of when they had fallen shut   —   at the smell of something... white?  the exact aroma is... hm, she isn’t sure.  tine glances up, lips immediately set in a neutral frown.  the man in front of her is holding out a cup, the source of the pleasant smell.  her nose twitches.  his voice rings out... softly, something she wouldn’t have expected.  her nose twitches again and she carefully straightens her posture, reaching out to take the cup from his hands.  his words, though, don’t register until the cup is safely in her hands   —   chamomile, is what he said it is.

          her frown becomes more prominent,   “   no, but... thank you,   ”   for the tea, but also... believing in her abilities?  unusual, that isn’t what he’s doing so tine’s confused on why her mind immediately goes there.

          she whispers a blessing over the cup’s rim and takes the lightest sip   —   thankfully not burning her tongue in the process.  tine attempts to offer the man a smile but fears it might seem too awkward; she does so anyway.   “   tine.  my name is tine riveri friege,   ”   she adds to the silence between them.  a name wasn’t asked for but in gratitude, it’s a name she gives.

          and yet, she feels weird now; another sip of the tea is taken.

[frievaled]

[SHOPPING] there’s a huge sale at the marketplace! muse a and muse b head down to the shopping district to take advantage of those sales while they last.

meet and greet!

          tine’s body pushes her to follow even though the other lady has yet to tell of her identity.  she’d been looking at a few things, holding a small mirror up to her face in hopes of finding a nice accessory to buy   (   “   treat yourself,   ”   is what the monk said before handing her the flyer.   )   and once her eyes had caught sight of a beautiful necklace   —   jewelry makes her feel heavier than the responsibilities placed upon her shoulders do   —   someone had swung her arms over her shoulder.  she remembers the lady twirling her hair, pointing to a few things before immediately pulling tine into a conversation; tiring, this was, but tine couldn’t simply walk away, so she engaged.

          when the pink - haired lady calls for it, she follows, head bowed down and hands held together.  she’s aware enough to recognize their surroundings, the dip of every stone they step over and the click of the lady’s heels, slowly but surely, she makes herself familiar with every turn they make.  just in case.  just to be safe.  the lady pulls her to another stall and begins chatting with the vender, locks of pink hair curling around her finger as she plays with one of her ponytails.

          tine looks away, gaze stuck on the scarlet hairpin on the shelf as—

          “   hey, miss hilda!   ”

          her knees immediately buckle and tine’s head is alive with noise; too much noise, too little voice, she can’t think straight she can’t think at all.  her hand twitches and she doesn’t realize that she’s being held up from collapsing until a hand grabs her upper arm   —   an incantation burns at her tongue, condensed magic now pooling beneath her palms.

          hilda’s alive.  hilda’s alive and her doubts of finding a safe haven were right, she was right!  deirdre’s here, alive and breathing and smiling.  it’s possible for hilda to be here; obvious even.  she’s back for her.  she’ll have to be put into the ground again and again and again until there is nothing left to be returned.

          arthur.  she has to tell arthur, he doesn’t know, he isn’t—   “   G-GET OFF OF ME!   ”   tine screams, pushing against the hands that keep her upright and yet even as the spell readies itself on her hands, she is not released.  where’s hilda?  where is she, where is that damned soul, that

          her question is answered by a tighter hold and a voice of rough silver; the drumming in her head almost drowns out the lady’s talking, and yet it does not, all the same.  hilda. hilda... valentine...   “   goneril?   ”   tine’s voice is fleeting, as if she lost everything in her chest including the ability to properly breathe.  she blinks and... manicured fingers wipe away at her cheeks.  she doesn’t remember when she started crying.   “   y-your... you... h-hilda?   ”

         it takes everything in her to merely choke the name out.  but the lady   —   hilda   —   only smiles at her, moving her so that she’s in between tine and the prying eyes of others in the marketplace.  tine swallows whatever this... anger is in her throat and follows the pace that hilda breathes.  matching the rise and fall of her chest with the lady.  she deserves an explanation, an apology, something.

          but all tine does is rest her forehead against hilda’s shoulder.   (   she cannot remember the last time she was so exhausted.   )

[frievaled]

a kiss from someone the other didn’t think thought of them that way

kiss, kiss!

        the smell of lavender wafts through the room, the source resting as the brewed tea between them both.  yet, neither porcelain cup is held in either grasp.  siegbert’s hands are soft against her face, thumbs brushing away the faint trails of tears that have now just begun to dry up.  he does not properly wipe them away, her cheeks have grown all too familiar with the weight of tears and another’s hands   —   but siegbert’s hands are not as rough as she first presumed them to be.  they’re gentle, caring, and maybe it’s this that causes her to cry harder.

          maybe it’s this feeling, this faint pressure of something in her chest being filled, that causes her throat to release the voice she’s hidden for years; years of her childhood kept sealed behind simple answers and a mother’s promise.  siegbert holds her through it all, allowing her head to bow further into his hands, her tears to slide down the creases and scars of his palms   —   when she is spent, he can tell.  it’s evident.  the resigned slump of her shoulders, the faint twitching of her hands wrapped around his wrists; when tine is spent, her head does not clear up.

          siegbert said that she deserved better and she denied it.  she refused.  she wished to lash out at his foolish suggestion and curse a thousand storms upon the very spot he sat in front of her, but she hadn’t.  she couldn’t.  if she didn’t suffer then what was all of her mother’s pain for?  to be wasted on a daughter who knew nothing of what she went through?  no, tine had to suffer because her mother suffered and if she was going to then fate would be damned to let her suffer alone.

          but the thoughts scatter when siegbert’s hand moves from her face and begins to softly comb through the locks of lavender hair that have somehow loosened from her ribbons.  she doesn’t have it in her to care; can’t bring herself to push his hand away and retie her hair.  he’s too generous, too kind, too quick to rush to her aid   —   how would she know the weight of her mother’s pain if there’s someone here for her to lean onto?   (   tailtiu hadn’t been given that comfort.  why should tine be given it then?   )

          “   you... i don’t d-deserve you,   ”   she whispers her doubt into existence, only for it to spin aimlessly in the close space between them.  it’s too small, too close; intimate.  it’s intimate.  siegbert has others to deal with and she, as always, is only a thorn wedged into his side.   “   i’m s-sorry... i’m so sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i—   ”

          through her babbling, this sunken feeling of being too little, tine doesn’t realize that siegbert’s hands have returned to her face.  that they, alike the stone pillar she’s always seen him to be, have tilted her head up to face him properly.  she can feel a new fit of tears pricking at her eyes and the only force that stops her from crying is the softest of weight against her lips.  it’s then, as siegbert kisses her, that tine’s resolve crumbles in on itself.  but she does not pull away.  she does not attempt to run from the affection she has so dearly, wished from him.

          when they part, siegbert continues to hold her, whispers of ‘ i love you ’ and ‘ i will always protect you ’ mixing with the timbre of her new cries; softer but unable to repeat the tenderness that siegbert has placed upon her.  tine allows herself this moment, this one chance of happiness, this sincerest form of safety.

          it’s what her mother would have wanted.

[frievaled]

a kiss to prove a point

kiss, kiss!

         tine frowns, raising her gaze from the book in her hands and up to mitama, who’s kneeling in front of her on her bed.   “   i... disagree,   ”   she says, an eyebrow arched and the frown more apparent on her face.  mitama doesn’t budge so tine continues,   “   romance in literature is never inaccurate.  and if your opinion is so based on this observation, then you’re reading the wrong books.   ”   for emphasis, tine taps the back cover of her book.

         reading romance books only began as a small curiosity after the war, but when gathering the lack of liveliness in her own childhood, she began analyzing the texts closer.  seeing them as, not only entertainment, but also as a means to learn something about an aspect of life she had zero experience in.  tine slips a bookmark between the pages she’s currently on and closes the book, holding it out for mitama to take.  a certain yet small confidence in her point of the argument.

         “   this; it’s a tale of two princesses where—   ”   mitama takes the book from her hands.   “   —the war between their kingdoms proves to wedge a... a-are you reading it now?   ”

          it wouldn’t make much sense if she was, since mitama’s clearly skimming pages that are not within the first few chapters; tine blinks at her.  staring only harder when mitama closes the book and sets it to the side.   “   no, you’re... you... if you skip to the part where   —   what are you talking about?  no, the words aren’t exaggerated... have you even experienced love?   ”

          (   the irony, really, when seeing as the shrine maiden has had plenty of romantic interactions while tine, has had close to zero.  well, zero.  fantasies don’t count.   )

          mitama’s argument is that even the book she had just been given is that the romance there isn’t fresh either.  tine’s frown appears on her face once more and she sighs,   “   the spontaneous kiss is supposed to be described as this... wonderous feeling.   ”   mitama’s point is closer now   —   no, she’s closer now.  tine pauses, furrowed eyebrows as another counterargument forms on her tongue and

          tine’s collar is suddenly grabbed and she squeaks; the sound soon muffled by mitama’s lips against hers.  although her shirt is grabbed, she isn’t pulled forward.  on the contrast, really, mitama is the one who closes the distance between them.  her mind stays silent, running on the line of blanking out or pushing back but when mitama grins into the kiss, tine finds herself still... confused.  she has yet to move when the shrine maiden pulls away, her face not even slightly as flushed as tine’s.

          the mage blinks wildly, in such an amount of justified shock that she doesn’t realize that mitama’s talking until her sentence has just been finished.  tine swallows and recovers from the surprise, hands closing around mitama’s wrists, where the shrine maiden’s grip on her has yet to loosen up.

          “   i’m... fireworks?  w-what?  no, it... i didn’t feel any fireworks in my...   ”   and she realizes the triumph behind mitama’s grin a moment too late; the latter has already leaned back on her heels and begins to comment on her point and how it’s been made.   “   n-no, wait!  i... you c-can’t compare me to fictional characters!   ”

[byubles]

GARREG MACH MONASTERY.

Located in central Fódlan amidst the mountains, Garreg Mach Monastery is the headquarters of two separate entities: the Church of Seiros and the Officers Academy. It is a neutral territory, not governed by any of the three nations of Fódlan. In addition to being a religious site, the monastery is home to an elite order of knights …

prompts based on the setting of Garreg Mach from the game Fire Emblem: Three Houses. Written in conjunction with ceres with a special thanks to soji! feel free to edit or expand on these prompts to your liking.

Keep reading

[leneemusing]

another kiss prompt

a kiss to make up for an argument

a dominating kiss to end an argument 

a gentle kiss to ask forgiveness 

a kiss against shoulder blades as arms wrap around from behind 

a kiss against the shoulder after waking up beside each other 

a kiss to distract

a kiss against tear stained cheek

a kiss on the brow 

a kiss where they’re both covered in blood

a kiss after one muse has killed for the other 

a kiss after one muse has injured the other 

a kiss between enemies who should be fighting 

a kiss between exes who meant to walk away 

a playful kiss to make the other stop rambling 

an adoring kiss because the other is rambling 

a kiss to end sexual tension 

an angry kiss 

a tearful kiss 

a kiss to prove a point 

a hesitant kiss 

a kiss from one muse who should be afraid of the other 

a kiss from a muse who the other should be afraid of 

kisses scattered along hardened jaw to try and sooth 

a kiss as if trying to answer a question 

a kiss between furrowed brows to try and comfort 

a kiss from someone the other didn’t think thought of them that way 

a kiss that says thank you 

a kiss on the corner of the mouth,  hoping for more but expecting nothing 

an exploratory kiss,  testing the waters between them 

a kiss on the forehead of one who is starting to fall asleep 

a kiss against the cheek after discovering the other is napping 

a platonic kiss just meant to express overwhelming emotion 

a kiss to comfort both parties

a kiss stemmed from relief 

a kiss to make the other believe professed feelings 

a possessive kiss to remind the other who they belong to 

a possessive kiss to show the world they belong to each other

a kiss stemmed from jealousy 

a kiss to make someone else jealous 

a biting,  passionate kiss 

a kiss against the neck which feels more like a bite,  teeth bruising skin 

a desperate kiss as if they are convinced they’ll slip through each other’s fingers 

a kiss to make each other feel alive 

a kiss stolen away in a corner,  ignoring crowds 

a kiss after being pulled into an alley to have a moment to themselves 

a kiss after grabbing the other’s arm and pulling them back close 

a kiss to convince the other to stay 

a kiss like they’re trying to convince the other to love them 

a hopeful kiss in the rain

a desperate kiss in the rain 

an angry kiss in the rain 

a possessive kiss in the rain 

a playful,  happy kiss in the rain 

a passionate kiss stemmed from previous heartbreak in the rain 

a kiss in the rain to make up like it’s a damn romcom 

a kiss in the rain filled with the foreboding of a goodbye 

a kiss to make the other stop being stubborn 

a kiss after treating a wound 

a defiant kiss 

a kiss between partners in crime in front of someone they hold captive 

a kiss to anger a third party 

an adrenaline filled kiss shared after committing a crime 

a surprise kiss just because the other couldn’t stop thinking about it 

[frievaled]

wind go woosh - & merric

NON-MISSION TASK BOARD: A young girl from town runs up to you, tears streaming down her face. Her beloved cat has escaped and found its way into Garreg Mach! She offers you her favorite marble and a piece of candy as a reward for finding him… You can’t bring yourself to say no, and it seems like an easy enough task, anyway. Until you discover that the cat is some sort of acrobat. Pursue the renegade feline, but try not to slip off the rooftops in the process!

          she sees herself in the little girl.  the timid sway in her steps, the twitching fingers; tine finds that her hands have automatically reached forward to pull the girl into a hug, fingers combing through locks of short dark hair.  it takes only that and a few mutters of comfort that cause the girl to calm down, fists grabbing at tine’s shawl as she sniffles and nods.  the loss of her and her brother’s cat seems almost too hard for her to bear.   (   the girl, hanna, had mentioned something of the cat being rude and running away from them when hanna’s mother let them outside to play.   )

          tine smiles; soft and a genuine curl of her lips,   “   i see... do you need me to help you?   ”   and the immediate smile she’s given is enough to solidify her answer.  tine looks away from the girl, as if recoiling from the hopeful expression.   “   a-alright, well... er, we can—   ”

          “   sissy!   ”   and hanna pulls out of her embrace, small feet kicking up dirt as she rushes past tine.  tine calls after her, scrambling to her feet and following her through the pathway and up to the monastery’s entrance.  there’s a student   —   merric, is what tine remembers hearing in the hallways   —    standing outside, near one of the market stalls set beside a line of storages and small warehouses.  hanna seems to be running straight for him if it wasn’t for...

          “   b-behind you!  grab the cat!   ”   tine yells out at merric.  although the shout is needless when sissy, a pretty little black cat, jumps from the stall’s table and up to its roof.  hanna latches onto merric while tine   (   weigh the issues, consider the problems   )   continues forward.  she yells out an apology to the stall clerk and steps onto the stall’s table. her hand reaches for the thin roof held up by steady wooden pillars, fingers curling around the ledge.  she’s not as agile as she wishes, definitely on the weaker side considering the years she’s been idle with friege business, but despite it, tine manages to pull herself up to somewhat lean her upper body against the roof.

          and it’s now, as she tries to talk to sissy and coax her down, that tine realizes what hanna meant by her being mean.  sissy meows and comes closer to her, nuzzling her head against tine’s bangs before jumping out of reach and preparing to jump onto the roof of a nearby warehouse, its slanted tiles seeming all too easy for the cat’s escape.  tine pulls herself up fully onto the roof and peers down at merric and a starry-eyed hanna.   “   merric, ready yourself t-to catch sissy!   ”

          as if by taunting instinct, tine turns back to see sissy sitting idle at the edge of the roof, turning her head and blinking at her.  tine takes a breath before slowly reaching out and allowing sissy to move into her hold.  it seems easy, almost too easy.

          “   merric,   ”   tine says, shuffling carefully towards the edge of the stall’s roof,   “   i’m dropping her down now!   ”

          and that’s what was supposed to happen, but when tine holds sissy over the ledge   (   a wrong move on her part   ),   sissy shrieks and claws at her hand.  tine grunts and attempts to pull her back but sissy slips from her grasp and, stepping off her wrist, jumps onto her head.  the sudden shift of weight causes tine to lean forward, arms outstretched to stop herself from falling completely off the roof.  sissy’s claws pull at her hair until there’s suddenly no weight upon her head and that’s what, she thinks, causes her to lean completely off the stall.

          hanna yells out sissy’s name as tine desperately scrambles to pull herself back up on the roof.   “   merric!   ”   sissy jumps away onto the next roof and tine makes a noise that’s somewhat in between a yell and squeak.   “   g-get sissy!   ”

for @windsheedme

[frievaled]

willpower and promise - & arthur

          she almost resists the healer’s aid when she’s brought   —   limping, stuttering exhales, barely bleeding   —   to one of the spare medical tents.  the ribbons in her hair have begun to loosen ever so slightly and with it, she would have guessed that she had been through one of the most difficult of mock battles; and yet she knows how easily she was able to be brought to her knees.  the monk smiles at her as the spell warms their hand, setting it and tine’s wound in the softest of glows.  she looks away.

          it had been a mock battle.  she had been taken out during a mock battle.  she scoffs at the idea; the monk looks at her weirdly for a moment before finishing up the healing and holding a small damp cloth up against her shoulder   —   mumbling something of cleaning up.  tine nods and says nothing.  she allows the silence to speak for her.

          “   you did good out there,   ”   the monk says after setting the cloth back into its bin.  tine wonders if they had actually seen her battle; the two whispers of lightning that had flickered out.

          “   thank you,   ”   is all she responds with.  the monk doesn’t seem bothered by the softness of her voice, their gaze instead thrown over her shoulder and to the tent’s entrance.  there’s shuffling, a beat of the battles outside rising in volume before they hush back down to a mumble.

          “   i’ll take care of them!  bring them here,   ”   they say, moving away from tine and beckoning whoever to the futon across from tine’s.  she stays silent; she knows better than to interrupt and wedge herself into a conversation when she wasn’t desired in it.  the shuffling begins once more and a knight moves around the futon she sits on to bring in.... tine immediately brightens up at the sight of arthur, albeit a bit rough in appearance, but well all the same.  and this warmth, this joy, this feeling of being at home, is all too fleeting.  as it always has been.

          the monk sits arthur down and begins to heal him, congratulating him the same as they did her.  tine pulls her gaze away from them both, sticking it to the ground and flexing her fingers, which still hum faintly with the song of thunder.   (   she remembers how beautifully steel had whistled through the air, commanded by the student’s hand.   )   to her dismay, when she looks up from the ground, the monk is nowhere to be found and her eyes rise to meet arthur’s gaze.

          her lips twitch; the desire to smile easily overcome by the natural frown she’s grown to wear,   “   arthur...   ”   an effort is made to keep her voice from sounding weak.  she’s already failed in one aspect, it’d be worse to weaken her voice, too.   “   how... are... how was your b-battle?   ”

for @zephyntus

[frievaled]

They try to not think too hard about the way the Officers Academy uniform feels against their skin, how the absence of the chains that decorated the clothing of the Ashen Wolves settles a strange discomfort over them. A caged bird grown used to their chains...here was their chance to fly free and they chose the Blue Lions.

It should never be said that Yuri is not sentimental. The chains clamped over their heart are stronger than any iron that has shackled them before. And there is a heart, buried somewhere in their chest. There should be, at least.

Humming, they draw their blade from its sheath, eyes scanning over the battlefield before settling upon a Black Eagles student, seemingly still unengaged in combat. “Lovely day we're having, no?” they call out as their blade whistles through the air.

[ ROLL: 12, HIT! -1.5 DMG. YURI: 5/5 HP ]

         the battlefield is alive with iron and sweat, yells of encouragement.  tine ignores the familiar feeling of being where the heart of battle thrives; the cut of trust and family   —   and instead she focuses on the humming of the tome in her hand.  simply going out and looking for a target would leave her at a disadvantage, especially with her having one piece of equipment and a lack of knowledge for others and their skill.  she turns to retreat, mainly somewhere she can take out singular opponents in empty fields.

         there’s the sound of a blade unsheathed and a voice, silvery and from the depths of obscurity.  tine quickly turns around and—

tine! hp = 4.5 / 6

         a blade strikes her front, across her chest and tearing away the shawl of her custom uniform.  tine’s hand twitches and thunder immediately answers the call of her muttered incantation, an attempt to use the distance between them as an advantage.

tine! rolls d20-4 = 2! ‘ thunder ’ misses!

         yet the bolt of lightning merely cuts through air and doesn’t connect with her opponent.  tine frowns, stepping back and arching an eyebrow.  her opponent had asked a question, did he not?  was she… did they want her to answer?   “   today is… pleasant… i suppose,   ”   she answers, her voice slightly off pitch and not as soft as it should be.  yet with her answer, comes the rise of her hand and the fluttering pages of her tome; the spell arcs out toward her opponent yet its calling stutters.

tine! rolls d20-4 = 5! ‘ thunder ’ misses!

[frievaled]

aubins​:

A mage, they note as they side step the bolt of lightning that cracks through the air, though not a particularly exceptional one. What is it that she lacks, they wonder. The magic answers her call easily enough, albeit with a slight stutter in its casting. Was it confidence she lacked? Experience?

Lips twitch into a frown. It’s not their problem, no, but were this a real battlefield, she would be dead. “Is that so?” they ask, lips pressing together at the second spell she attempts. “It doesn’t seem as though you’re having such a great one yourself.” Even if Yuri wasn’t surrounded by mages like Constance and Hapi, to whom magic seemed almost as natural as breathing, they can recognize how pitiful a showing this display was. “Something on your mind?”

[ COUNTER ROLL: 15, CRIT! -3 DMG. ] [ ROLL: 11, HIT! -1.5 DMG. ]

But Yuri’s sympathy does not extend far enough for them to hesitate much longer with their blade. Steel sings as it flies through the air, two strikes in quick succession. Only enough to incapacitate — they can feel some of the knights burning holes into the back of their skull. They aren’t eighteen anymore, they’re twenty.   (  Twenty - one, they remind themself after a beat. They’re twenty - one.  )   They have no reason to do anything more than disarm the student and send them to the infirmary tents.

          her hand shakes, fingers trembling as her magic misses; sizzling in the air until its life flickers out.  tine frown wavers and her voice fails to utter another incantation.  there’s an anger forming where her magic cannot   —   the student in front of her frowns; it’s the thought of being underestimated that tenses her muscles.  do something , tine.  their voice rings before her, as yet another question and a following comment.  tine, do something, dammit!

          conversating during battle, this had to be a distraction yes?  a ploy to get her attention focused on their words rather than the blade in their hand.  tine curses this stutter in her throat and raises her hand, before even that hesitates at the question asked.  the battlefield around them has yet to cease; this is a ploy, a tactic, you are being fooled, tine.

          (   a mother’s stubbornness shines brighter as her daughter’s own.   )   “   par… don?   ”   she asks, moving her gaze from the blade and to their face.   “   is there a r-reason behind your—   ”

          but her answer does not come as early as desired; steel whistles as it cuts through the air and even tine, beholder of magic that cracks the sky, cannot ignore the song that comes with the blade’s sting.

tine! hp = 0 / 6

          steel cuts into the back of her wrist and the tome slips from her grasp when she jerks her hand away with a cry out.   (   for what?  for who?   )   and when the blade strikes her shoulder next, tine finds that her childhood position on the ground is as permanent as it was years before.  she falls, weakly clutching onto her stinging shoulder, where a wound can be seen from beneath the torn fabric of her sleeve.

          apologize.  to them, to your brother, to this pitiful display of friege’s leadership;   “   t-thank… you…   ”

—  TINE HAS BEEN DEFEATED!

[frievaled]

They try to not think too hard about the way the Officers Academy uniform feels against their skin, how the absence of the chains that decorated the clothing of the Ashen Wolves settles a strange discomfort over them. A caged bird grown used to their chains...here was their chance to fly free and they chose the Blue Lions.

It should never be said that Yuri is not sentimental. The chains clamped over their heart are stronger than any iron that has shackled them before. And there is a heart, buried somewhere in their chest. There should be, at least.

Humming, they draw their blade from its sheath, eyes scanning over the battlefield before settling upon a Black Eagles student, seemingly still unengaged in combat. “Lovely day we're having, no?” they call out as their blade whistles through the air.

[ ROLL: 12, HIT! -1.5 DMG. YURI: 5/5 HP ]

         the battlefield is alive with iron and sweat, yells of encouragement.  tine ignores the familiar feeling of being where the heart of battle thrives; the cut of trust and family   —   and instead she focuses on the humming of the tome in her hand.  simply going out and looking for a target would leave her at a disadvantage, especially with her having one piece of equipment and a lack of knowledge for others and their skill.  she turns to retreat, mainly somewhere she can take out singular opponents in empty fields.

         there’s the sound of a blade unsheathed and a voice, silvery and from the depths of obscurity.  tine quickly turns around and—

tine! hp = 4.5 / 6

         a blade strikes her front, across her chest and tearing away the shawl of her custom uniform.  tine’s hand twitches and thunder immediately answers the call of her muttered incantation, an attempt to use the distance between them as an advantage.

tine! rolls d20-4 = 2! ‘ thunder ’ misses!

         yet the bolt of lightning merely cuts through air and doesn’t connect with her opponent.  tine frowns, stepping back and arching an eyebrow.  her opponent had asked a question, did he not?  was she... did they want her to answer?   “   today is... pleasant... i suppose,   ”   she answers, her voice slightly off pitch and not as soft as it should be.  yet with her answer, comes the rise of her hand and the fluttering pages of her tome; the spell arcs out toward her opponent yet its calling stutters.

tine! rolls d20-4 = 5! ‘ thunder ’ misses!

[phiib]

My full piece for the charity zine Crusader’s Legacy Zine!! I’m so glad for being able to draw one of my favorite sibling and I love them so much…!! I love FE4 so much too, I’m so glad I was able to join it! Leftover sales are still available, if you want to check out!

[frievaled]

[CATCH] the sender catches the receiver before they trip.

meet cute, meet ugly, meet her

          it’s been a while since she’s marched.  even now, as the group of students and knights step over rocks and take to the barely uncovered path through the hills, tine catches herself falling behind.  the past year or two, she’s been focused mainly on the revival of her mother’s name and honor, ruling friege came with a mighty hand of stationary life rather than that she took to during the war.  the uniform fits oddly to her body, constricting her movements and pushing the echo of her heartbeat deeper in her chest.  she’s suffocating   —   she isn’t.  she’s drowning in the sound of footsteps and knightly orders   —   she isn’t.  she’s falling...

          she is.  tine realizes this the moment that the rock shifts beneath her foot and her step leaves her off balance.  it was a mistake, one not as dire as keeping her attention focused on the class; the space between her and the group grows with every second she attempts to balance herself.  her knees buckle and she’s unable to keep herself from following the force of momentum.

          (   her hand is outstretched and yet even she isn’t sure of what being she’s reaching for.   )

          (   here, she is not a ruler.  here, she does not have the base of a dukedom braced by the curve of her spine.  she thinks that, maybe, that’s why she feels so light as she falls. )

          tine doesn’t realize that her cry for help had been silent until the sound of leaves crunching and rocks being kicked away manages to fill the air around her.  an arm wraps around her waist and, with a hand pressed against her back, she’s pulled from the hillside, where rocks and branches make the tumble down, and not her body.  tine doesn’t say anything, neither is there anything coherent in her head.  she stays, idle, breathing against the torso of the man who saved her—

          but when her gaze flutters up at his face, tine almost pushes herself out of the grasp.  not in discomfort, no, for leif is someone she respects; his presence is almost as comforting as seliph’s, hell, maybe it matches and she has yet to know.  the reason her body urges her to recoil is the realization that she almost fell and injured herself in front of someone who knows her worth   (   worth?  hm, hilda would disagree.   )   and the idea of lowering his trust in her, that she can protect herself... is... is...

          her hand gives him a light pat on the chest.  tine keeps her head down, moving her gaze to the ground first, and then to the retreating backs of the class.   “   thank you,   ”   she whispers, grateful in silence when leif releases her from the hold, seeing as though she has no injuries.  there’s a slight pain in her ankle; she doesn’t dare tell him.   “   i’m fine, just... ignore me, we’re getting too far behind,   ”

          tine wonders, if fate persisted on testing her to her fullest, would she have been able to pull leif back up as he did her.  if he had lost the battle against gravity, would she have the strength to save him?  and it’s this revelation, the answer that only she knows, that pushes tine to continue marching, holding a hand out for leif to grab with every stepping stone too unbalanced.  the time to catch up on their separate lives wasn’t now, but maybe, it’d be in their future moments together...?