How do I forget?

black eagle students .Young mage descented from house Frieege of the jugdral duology affliliated with officers academy

[frigidsurge]

last updated :31.03.2025

[]Combat statistics []

[]The 3 questions[]

[]Outfit desings[]

[]the dossier[]

[]Supports[]

[]the writer[]

[]The officers academy []

[]Thread x : x[] threads name tag

[] character name 0.0[]

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a start of a thread is 1.0

an ask is 0.1

[]threads part x[] denotes which reply on my side this is

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[] artwork for when words are not enough [] artwork tag

[]words from the other side [mun speaking][]

it is in fact the mun speaking shocker ^^;

[]things better left private[] nsfw tag the nsfw tag is also there

[frigidsurge]

Boss makes a dollar I make a dime that's why I bother my teacher on company time

Any skill+ prompt .

[frigidsurge]

She swears on the names of all her notable ancestors that this man is going to be the death of himself or both of them.

Grabbing the scissors out of his hands the moment she spots the mismatch in how he trims the bushes, nothing like the actual gardeners filling her with dread.

"Do you have a death wish???"

Her voice isn't loud, but it's sharp, all her frustration once again laid bare.

"You can get everyone here in trouble, and people don't look kindly at troublemakers."

Surely he cannot be unaware of it. She doesn't know what life he led before becoming a professor, but it couldn't be too high of a station with how he behaves. Yet he wasn't taught how to keep his head down?

" Your life doesn't matter to the owners; you will be chewed up and spit out at the smallest slight.

And if they decide you cannot pay for it with your life, it will be taken alongside - ."

She's heard them moving, but the worker was actually engaging with her job only as an irrelevant figure within her peripheral vision.

So her coming behind Tine, clasping a handkerchief over her mouth, neither makes sense nor elicits the right response, her body flailing briefly but inconsequentially.

"Sorry sorry just quiet down-"

she wispers apologetic.

"I get what you're saying, but what if the lady overheard you?"

What if, indeed, within the gaps between foliage, she sees a noble, likely the one she currently serves?

[carefreemonk]

His shears have been confiscated. Much in the fashion of a confused toddler who’s had their favourite toy unceremoniously yanked away, Azama stares a moment at his empty hand. Snip, snip, his hand makes the gesture for. But it is to no avail, as his source of joy has been taken from him.

Brows lift as he tilts his head in Tine’s direction, nonplussed.

“Hmmm?”

She’s lucky he doesn’t throw a tantrum.

“Surely it wasn’t that bad,” he mumbles, sitting back into a crouch and lifting a leaf from the bushel in front of him. It’ll just grow back soon enough, anyway.

But he’s been thoroughly scolded once more, so he should probably behave at this point, right?

Brows jump again, this time in surprise as a third party steps in.

Hm.

“Thank you, thank you,” he greets quietly, with a small smile. “For looking out for us.” Us, plural, because it isn’t Azama’s chaotic cutting that would have grabbed their patron’s attention here and now - it’s Tine’s taking issue with it that nearly gets them busted.

And that on its own is enough to amuse the monk back into a good mood, even as their mysterious benefactor trots off back to her own work.

He peeks at the foliage, peers through and studies the Madame a moment, his curiosity his better. Haughty in true noble fashion, she is here to prove Tine’s point: currently, she looks to be in the process of educating a servant who hasn’t met her standards. She pours her tea over him, throws the cup at him, and turns in a huff. And away she imperiously goes.

A fairly light sentence, all things considered.

Azama holds his hand out to Tine, expectant. “Give them back.” Another small smile. “I’ll be good." A pause, then, in consideration: "You know, it seems that poor fellow’s position might be opening up shortly...” He hums.

"I do wonder if he mightn't have a word or two for us before he goes... But in any case, we'll be coming back here at nightfall, yes?"

[frigidsurge]

She shrinks into herself frustrated

Her outburst could have attracted attention to them, hastening the trouble the staff will inevitably get in for his flippant agriculture.

Maybe it could actually be a good idea. She doesn't want the actual staff to suffer; she can handle some abuse since she's leaving soon anyway.

" Why would I? If you intend to behave, then you do not need those. Either way, Miss, I think it might be a good idea for you to leave now; if someone should get in trouble for this it should be us."

She says, gesturing to the massacred bush.

"Actually you should cut off a few more. The lady's servant has been taking them for a while if its less of an art project maybe he will think hes forgotten?"

Thats

Very weird .

She looks closer to the bush, seemingly the same plant as any other around it, only different in the trunk being thinner and the leaves being smaller and slightly more yellow.

It smells cool, almost like mint mixed with lemon grass.

What in the?

It could likely be a medicinal plant

Curious

*

"Rejoice, imbecile; we are quite close to finishing the workday either way; let us vacate the premises."

It might be in Tine's best interest to go back to talk with the mysterious man all by herself.

[frigidsurge]

[ FLOWER ARRANGEMENT ] - Sara fails to see the appeal in standardized process. How unnecessary to invent nonsensical rules as to the way each and every flower must sit in a display and which colors create supposed harmony, stifling the beauty of their individuality.

"I thought of you when I received this bouquet," she confesses, offering one of her flowers. "The petals of spider lilies resemble ribbons, don't you agree?"

It's easy to picture their spindly, red arms embracing the silver of Tine's hair, tucked right beneath the strands of moonlight.

"You once told me in the past that you had a fondness for dried flowers. Will you be preserving the bouquet you were given tonight as a memento?"

She's unsure which is more surprising.

The fact that Lady Sara thought to reach out to her with the gift

Surely there are other people that wear ribbons; she knows better.

She could take it as a veiled threat.

But the girl doesn't seem like the type for that. Especially after proclaiming her resentment towards similar rules.

She's strange but warm.

In spite of what her lot in life should have made her into.

Is it alright to think of herself as similar?

"Yes that's what I plan. I'm surprised you remember. Thank you for the gift."

[frigidsurge]

[ SPARKLING WATER ] - Fresh spring water that has been magically carbonated. Served with a squeeze of lime or a dash of one of the many fruit syrups available at the bartender’s disposal.

"You're missing your usual spark," Azama notes. Will she be lacking her usual bite for him, too? Or will she perhaps manage to muster up a token quip? Suppose it'd be better if she didn't waste her energy on silly ol' Azama though.

Suppose he'd best not give her reason to want to.

He offers one of the glasses in his hands.

"Here. I wound up with two by mistake and need a hand free. I'm not sure what flavour it is, but t'is a night for new experiences, no?"

As for Why he needs a hand free:

"Ahem... Would you happen to be missing a tulip for your collection?"

Because he has noticed, recently, he seems to be missing a hyacinth.

... truce?

....

Should she trust anything this man offers her for free?

or in general, for that matter

Likely not, but she also shouldn't cause a scene, so she takes the offered glass and tulip, then exchanges both items for a hyacinth.

"I heard of a form of bouquets where you stick flowers into some soft, spongy texture so they remain upright; you could try it with your hair."

The insult towards his hairdo, as natural as it is floundering as she can't find the energy to be creative nor truly vindictive.

Maybe hes the same way.

[frigidsurge]

"aha! you are the Black Eagle who had passed around flowers for National Woman's Day sometime ago! Tine, correct?" Ferdinand passed a hand through his bangs, huffing proudly. "that is exactly the kind of activity that makes us stand out above the rest! I have been meaning to track you down and applaud you for your efforts!"

"here you are! a rose!" ta da! he rolled his wrist to reveal a deep red one, with petals that had been tenderly cared for the entire night. "if you ever need help next time when you go around to everyone, will you ask for me? I, Ferdinand Von Aegir, am at your service!"

"Y-yes, that would be me-"

Sometimes is an understatement; in fact, she wonders how the young man even remembers it. It wasn't anything special, just Tine's effort to build a good reputation for herself in the absence of real experience with such things.

Still, it clearly stood out to someone.

"Thank you, hold on a second please"

She fumbles with the bouquet; she really needs to look over and abandon the badly damaged ones but can't find it in her to do so.

Maybe she can reuse them for something; it's not like the academy will want them back.

Finally she pulls one of them out, exchanging it meekly.

"I am Tine of House Freege, and thank you for your offer. Feel free to rely on me too; as classmates, we should support one another."

She's also not really a fan of owing people...

[frigidsurge]

[ GOSSIP ] - For those who don't want to be the center of attention, sitting on the sidelines and observing those who do is a time-honored tradition. Exchanging thoughts with another while doing so is a rite of passage for a student—it is a slightly worse look for the staff to take part.

She can feel dread crawling up her spine.

Who, where, why?

She doesn't know, and the only reason she makes the effort to calm her heart is the knowledge that her panic will do no good; she won't find the source of her anxiety within the endless crowd.

And so she whispers frustrated

likely for her own sake

"back away"

[frigidsurge]

"...Psst, Tine! Up here!" Nanna's laughter rang down the open hallway, up on a step-ladder that jutted between two pillars. The moon peered down at them both, silently praying over their heads. In her hands was a fallen banner, heels that she had taken off, and orchids that glimmered in the deep blue sheen of butterflies. "Sorry... I saw that this banner had somehow come undone and I couldn't help myself..."

"O-oops!" She dropped an orchid off the ladder, and sighed. "Oh, don't worry about it, let me give you a better one..."

"Nanna-"

Her surprise at being called for is quickly overshadowed by panic.

She does her best to not shake the ladder her friend stands on as she moves to steady it.

Oh, the irony—they can fight the undead and kill gods, but they still have the same fragile bodies that make a bad tumble potentially deadly.

"Worry about the flowers less, please, and just be done with the banner safely"

Her own flowers had been somewhat crushed earlier, and she intends to keep the bouquet pressed in a book; by then small imperfections won't be as relevant.

She feels faint with relief as her invaluable ally gets down quickly, finding a hyacinth that's a little crumpled but not squished in any direction nor missing petals.

What she does next is quite bold for her.

Attaching another of her hyacinths to the other girl's hair accessory.

"Please take care not to injure yourself; I'm sure the ball is far less enjoyable from the infirmary walls."

[frigidsurge]

[ TEA ] - Just what it says on the tin! The only teas offered are Mint, Bergamot, Sweet-Apple Blend, Albinean Berry Blend, and Southern Fruit Blend, wrapped in small tea bags. Some students, having anticipated a small selection, bought their own tea.

"Lady Bernadetta?"

Her tone speaks of relief, the shy girl's presence naturally putting her at ease despite the fact she's not really in a mood for talking.

"Oh wait, you didn't want to be called that, right? I'm so sorry I had been a little out of sorts recently."

She shrinks into herself, embarrassed but remains honest about her own feelings in a display of trust the other girl most likely wouldn't understand.

"Would it be okay if we went somewhere quiet? I believe I need some rest."

[frigidsurge]

"Tine! Good to see you!" It's nice to put her best foot forward with someone closer to Nino's age; she feels less like an ant staring up at giants, and more like she's just talking to a peer. "Oh, you have hyacinths, too...wanna trade? It'd be fun to grab different colors from each other."

"Nino?"

She doesn't know why she's surprised.

Maybe it's simply the half-awake state she arrived here in?

"Its good to see you, and yes, I would love to trade. I believe it's a game, and you might receive something for completing all the flowers like we did last year with maritime accessories."

She does her best to maintain a cheery demeanor; after all, there is no reason for the younger girl to have to suffer due to Tine's sour mood.

" We almost match, actually, don't we? What a cute coincidence. "

[hoopdaughter]

This is where the fun begins!

Tine & Fee ➢ Flying+1

[frigidsurge]

The sight is stunning.

But maybe all seems to be so high up

After all, the air deprivation and the sheer oddity of humanity taking to the skies make it not too unlike a dream.

"A-h, are you sure that's alright? What if the merchants mistake it for an enemy attack?"

Fear leads to distraction, and distractions result in mistakes.

But at the same time, the smell shouldn't be so prominent this high up, right?

If she doesn't put much magic into it, then it wouldn't be a problem?

" Okay I'll try myself! "

She puts on a false bravado as she unhooks herself while the winds ease slightly, and she feels confident in her balance.

It wouldn't work so well in actual battle, but between it being the spell's barest essentials and the flippant aim she can employ, she casts rapidly all different spells.

Thunder, fire, and light

Ignition of the flame and its afterimage.

"I don't think wind magic would be really visible, and I don't recommend dark unless you want to check how it is for a bucket of miasma to be flung back at you."

There's a story there of a training session on a particularly windy day, a story she's uninterested in sharing right now.

[hoopdaughter]

"Pshaw, don't worry! Not any ol' bandit can match up to our talents!" Fee reassures her. She feels soft hands shuffle at her waist, and pays attention for sparks at her peripheral vision. Colors dance and weave behind them, flirting with Fee's initial fire trail, and she can't help but exclaim in pleasant surprise.

"Woah, I never thought about combining them! That's so cool, Tine!" Not that Fee could even cast all that... but back home, she certainly had practice with a bolt sword! And then, maybe if she could borrow Leif's light brand... She giggles in delight. "Way to show off! I don't think I've ever even seen dark magic this high up!"

Well, that was partly true— she'd never cast something like that, not with any of the tools in the Liberation Army. But, the memories of being assailed with horrible skulls and scary miasma is certainly not foreign to her. Those damned Loptyr faithful would have it out for her no matter how far below they squeaked! Given the option of some sort of dark spell from a sword or a staff, she'd probably refuse it, anyhow.

"Aw, but wind magic's my favorite!" She says into the breeze. "I guess it's easier to see when it's snowing, though, huh..."

[frigidsurge]

She can't help but wince a bit at the cheery confidence. The two of them might know that, but that doesn't mean the merchants do. They might be surprised and end up making some navigation mistake? Still, if they were actual pirates, they would likely fire one warning shot, and she already cast several times. There is also simply the more selfish side of her that wants to keep on playing. She is allowed that right? Even if it's not the most responsible thing to do, she's met with a compliment for it that has warmth spread within her chest. "That very well might change, though I've seen people casting offensive spells from their pegasi and wyverns. Nothing really prevents it from being a dark spell. I'm sure someone experienced enough in it wouldn't have it blown in front of their face during combat. " Wind magic is her favorite? Of course it is. She's someone who embodies Sillese spirit at its brighest. Brave easy going never stagnant. There's more weight to it, something that doubtlessly makes it so it's as if the air itself shields her as if she was made for it. The same weight in how natural thunder is to her in how she cannot fear it in any meaningful way. She also knows that legacy hangs heavy upon Fee's still youthful face. Neither of them made the mistakes they've been paying for. But speaking of them won't bring them much comfort in a moment like this. one that's supposed to be a waking dream, their troubles so far away in many ways of another world. So she bites her tongue and asks. "Maybe you would like to learn it yourself? It's not my main goal at the moment, but I'd like to master flying and casting myself. It could be a tremendous advantage on the battlefield, and, well... I know it will sound a little silly, but during an event I rode a wyvern, and honestly I felt quite cool doing so. "

[frigidsurge]

[ LIGHT ] - A complex waltz uniquely performed blind, requiring both trust in one’s partner and in one’s self to successfully pull off. While it has only recently made its way from Ast to Fódlanese soil, it has quickly gained popularity in local dance classes as the ultimate test of faith in a pair.

"Ah Tine!" Berkut smiles when he spots her, giving a small bow in greeting. "It has been a while since our trip together, but it is good to see you again. I must say your dress looks lovely."

Berkut smirks as the music starts up. "Ah this is a new dance, done blind of all things. Shall we give it a try?" He offers a hand, to take the lead to the floor.

Ah yes, trip…

Still, she supposes it's good he's using such a mild term for the disastrous expedition they became acquainted through.

That's such a clinical way of putting it, especially in light of what those events did to her.

Still, she's so glad to see him that she's the one to approach him, with no obvious gain from it.

All that points to it being simply a desire to be around her.

"Than-k ,thank you."

How embarrassing.

But the lights dim and remind her

that he's already seen her at her lowest in many years, perhaps her whole life.

Torn apart and crying

Becoming a brilliant light to she who had just given up.

So when he asks her for a dance, even if usually she'd try to escape the nigh inevitable disaster of people trying a complex dance without seeing one another.

Since it is him, she stays quiet, taking his hands into hers.

There is no room to deny such trivial things to somebody she owes everything.

[frigidsurge]

[ SWEET BUN TRIO ] "Do you have a favorite?" She holds up a plate filled with the titular three buns, her finger pointing at each in turn. "They're all different flavors! And they're plated so prettily, too!" Moving the plate a bit closer to her in offering, Maria smiles. "Doesn't this little cascade of nuts look so pretty? Hee hee!"

She remembers eating them last year.

It shouldn't be notable she can also recall them as a standard dessert at the academy.

And yet it is she who remembers a quiet ballroom gathering leftovers for a breakfast in the storage room she hid away in.

With someone

It was a magical night and a blissful morning.

That memory should hurt.

It would likely under any other circumstance.

But tonight it's as if that hazy morning never came to an end.

"Yes they are quite charming, I believe. ? Are you offering to share?"

It's an assumption that could be taken the wrong way, but it's still natural enough that she chooses to voice it.

She makes the choice of which to take by process of elimination, the one with almond paste and powdered sugar holding it with a handkerchief.

The cherry one stood out more, and the cranberry and pecan one clearly grabbed the attention of the younger girl.

"I don't believe we know one another. I am Tine of House Freege, and who would you be?"

[frigidsurge]

She's disoriented, listlessly following the crowd.

The ball, right? She remembers signing up to participate and picking out the outfit many months before the ill-fated return home.

But less of that now.

She came here willingly, right?

She should conduct herself appropriately to her station instead of as a wandering ghost.

It's alright

It will be all right.

Rose: Ferdinand

Orchid:Nanna

Lily: Sara

Hyacinth(hers):Nino

Tulip: Azama

some details and outfit full body under the cut

[ I've been somewhat inacitve in the recent months and while it might be to an extent me projecting my mental struggles i had been wrting Tine as over all pretty depressed since january lore .shes unlikely to initiate much conversation and i aprieciate patience and am unlikely to do threads or mins this time around]

[frigidsurge]

Fun fact ! most students are literate

[frigidsurge]

"That's a brilliant idea! Granted, I don't really remember how it was to learn to write, but it's mostly a mechanical skill, right? Maybe I can somehow help; ask professors for advice if you feel awkward since you're new."

She talks on and on quickly and excitedly.

But

"Ah, I'm sorry for pushing myself onto you so much. Well, how to say that always wanted to help people "

She used to be helpless to protect herself, and she knows she's already done many things to change the world for the better, but now she just feels.

That she wants to do something smaller

more personal.

" A-h well outside we have a tea garden; it's the primary social hub for many students. I like tea myself, but nowadays I usually drink it in my room."

[gondul-fang]

"Oh," says Nino, "a tea garden!" She holds some questions on her tongue, realizing how naive they may sound. Is it a garden where they...grow tea? No; from Tine's description, it must be a place specifically set aside for drinking tea. How luxurious!

"You mean like, tea parties?" Nino asks. "How does that work? Do people dress up? Have you ever been to a tea party, Tine?"

It's hard to imagine anybody asking Nino to tea. Is it a sign of status, to do such a thing? Sure, the monastery is home to commoners and nobles alike, and as little distinction is made between them in the cirriculum as possible, but...Nino is just. Nino.

"Ah, I got excited again." Nino chuckles a little sheepishly. "All of this is still so new to me."

[frigidsurge]

"Yes tea parties! It's not that formal here, I'd say. I've seen most students partaking in their uniforms or casual wear. Though I don't believe it would fly where I was born, it might be something about the school student body mixing so many cultures, ages, and social standings. "

The young girl didn't really react to her earlier words, but in this context that's not a negative, right?

Especially since she was trusted with something that Nino must have found at least a little embarrassing with how she looked.

" Don't worry about it! Everyone is new to something from time to time; be glad you hadn't seen my turquoise hunt last year."

She laughs about it somewhat performatively, wanting to dispel whatever tension might linger.

"Please don't be afraid of being curious; you're still quite young. There's a lot in this world to discover and find joy in."

[frigidsurge]

Commiting arson in the kitchen like the best of them.

[frigidsurge]

She's being inconsiderate

That thought dawns on her all too late: what she intended to be idle banter turning into mockery.

She's no good at reading people, but she would need to be outright stupid to not be able to tell what he is thinking.

She has everything. Why does she want more?

It's insulting; somebody like her doesn't know real pain.

She tries to breathe, digging her nails and dragging them along her shoulders.

Not enough for scarring, just enough for pain.

How does she respond without making it a pity party? Should she change the subject, dismiss him, or tell him she can do it all on her own?

No, no, no, there is never an insult worse than to insist someone leaves since they become inconvenient to her simply by talking.

She breathes. "Please do not think I'm trying to compare our circumstances. I-I mean it cannot be in good faith, no matter what I look like."

Her gaze drifts downward; she's not wearing gloves for once in forever. It's easier to keep her hands clean during cooking this way, and she wasn't expecting company. All the scars trace little pathways, proof of all she shouldn't have allowed herself to be.

"Or who I was born."Traitor to everyone betrayed by all in turn.

The desert is all but abandoned in her mind as she starts busying herself with all the ingredients she forgot to put back, gathering all the dishes she is yet to wash.

What she's meant to say seems easy to interpret, at least to her, but it doesn't quite leave her mouth.

She doesn't know whether to elaborate and risk digging herself further or leave Ronan to his conclusions, whatever they may be.

"I wasn't incompetent by choice, you know?

a child that cannot hunt cannot feed herself

a child that cannot sew cannot clothe herself

A child that trembles while she writes and stutters will be mocked.

A child not seen as human wouldn't care to escape."

Words come out rapidly; they all technically make sense and paint the correct picture, so why is her body so heavy with dread?

Her skin crawls. Good job turning a conversation into your pity party as you always do.

She breathes too rapidly, hardly any air reaching her lungs. She locks her jaw shut, teeth digging into her lips, the pain and rusted blood bringing her back.

"I'm so sorry"

She still speaks too quickly but more coherently.

"I spoke out of line."

She cannot find the words to justify herself, not any that seem right now that all of it spilled out, and she doesn't see any justification that doesn't have her just further show off how self-absorbed she can be.

"It is not my place to impose my ideas of freedom upon you; I just needed help and thought it could be useful to you in turn."

[seawardoath]

"H-huh!?" Alarmed, Ronan turns sharply away from the oven with his hands up placatingly, even though he doesn't really know how to smooth over this situation, or what button he might have pressed for the conversation to turn so dark. For a moment he just stares at Tine with furrowed brow. She seems upset, and she's breathing fast around her teeth, which she's bitten into her lip hard enough to turn them red.

"Are you alright?" he asks, taking a step closer, reaching for her indecisively, like she might need something to ground her but not being too certain that the weight of his hand wouldn't do more harm than good. "I-I think I should be the one apologizing, not you. I didn't mean to imply that you were incompetent."

And what was all that stuff about a child not being able to hunt or sew?

Unsure of what to do with his hand, he lowers it as he glances over Tine from head to toe in search of answers, but he can't find any. He's never had to comfort someone like this before. It's awkward. He feels awkward. And a little embarrassed.

"I meant it when I said it's admirable to want to learn..." he adds after a silent moment that feels too long. "And I don't mind helping -- really! Forget I said anything, alright? I'll just--" That slip of paper she'd given him is still in his hand, so he decides he might as well use it as a sign of good will. "-- I'll just light the oven now."

Some flint would be easier than this, he thinks as he steps over to the oven again. He stares at the inked letters of the spell sitting in the palm of his hand, and then closes his eyes to concentrate and compose himself. Inhale. Exhale.

The scent of something burning flashes his eyes open and he glances down at the paper again with barely restrained panic.

"!!"

Without thinking, he tosses it into the hearth, where it settles on the stack of dry tinder and quickly spreads. Ronan watches it with wide-eyed fascination.

"Wow... it worked."

[frigidsurge]

She watches him carefully searching for something?

For him to get mad? Exhausted with her?

She's unsure, and he really seems like somebody too kind for his own good.

But she cannot find any words.

She probably should feel guilty for pushing him so much to use it, but instead she's overjoyed as the spell sparks to life.

The technique is unsurprisingly graceless, but the power of it stuns her.

First time, huh?

She raises her hands and claps slowly

Looking for words

"You're not hurt, are you? That was quite an impressive power for someone casting for the first time; only Ishtars would surpass it out of those I've seen."

She's still quiet and soft, but the distraction eased her mind quite a bit.

"You really should cultivate not necessarily offensive magic, but maybe healing could be useful. I mean, Jugdral is still plagued with conflict, and even if not, hunting accidents happen. Ah!"

She rummages around for her paper again, scribbling quickly on another page.

"Please don't feel uncomfortable denying me, but maybe you could try a basic heal? I bit my lip a little, but I can cut my finger if you need a clearer target.

White magic improves with proximity; there's no need to be poking the wound, but most people hold the patient's hand or put their hand on the person's shoulder."

She really is pushing her luck, straining herself, but she truly feels like she saw a spark of something special.

[frigidsurge]

She probably shouldn't say anything.

She so readily divulged her own losses so easily, as if to play for pity.

And yet her heart breaks as she feels she just might understand the rift her accidental savior and his brother are divided by.

For all the love and talk of sisterhood, she and Ishtar weren't equals.

Could never be equals.

It was downright bizarre that she even found time when people held the expectations upon her shoulders of such righteous power and grace.

She was to be venerated as a goddess.

The Ishtar she knew was just a foolish girl with a powerful tome.

It is a damn shame Caspar didn't get to see that side of his brother.

"I understand. Still, I hope you could become friends one day."

She says mindlessly, as if it couldn't be so easily a grave insult, as if those statements weren't just a veil draped over the vast ocean of the boy's past.

One, a sane person wouldn't allow their depths to be seen by someone they just met.

"My apologies."

She sinks into herself as if that would help.

The hypocrite spouting naive dreams of familial love as if she didn't stain herself with the blood of half of them one way or the other.

It is all the more reason to feel relief when Caspar shies away from her.

He's clearly so kind already, trying to find a place in his life for her as if she's supposed to stay for longer and then taking down whoever was responsible for bringing her here.

And then she will be back in that naga-forsaken desert on her way to an empty tomb.

To return to the frozen office of her uncle's, her mind horrified at how it feels like just a new cage.

Maybe she wished to be here instead?

[berglietz]

“No, you’re fine! I just, um—gimme a sec.”

His face pulls into a half-grimace as he ducks into his room, despite how ‘fine’ it is. Here he is trying to rescue somebody, and she’s trying to comfort him over his family problems. It’s his fault for opening his mouth too much about it, really.

Anyway-! This girl is so kind that she tries to offer comforting thoughts even to strangers, and she’s currently wet and cold and lost! And Caspar has dry clothes in his room! And also a towel? Maybe? If there’s a clean one. The white one draped over his headboard might be. He bunches the fabric up in his hand and brings it up to his face for a quick sniff check—it’s more embarrassing to hand a nice girl a sweaty towel than get caught checking to make sure it’s not sweaty. For sure.

With the towel deemed safe, he tucks it under his arm and rifles through his trunk for a spare set of clothes. Would she accept trousers? (Will they fit, even if she does?) He doesn’t have any alternatives to offer, so he decides to grab a pair regardless. When he pokes his head back out of his bedroom door, he bears the full stack—shirt, pants, towel—and nudges them toward Tine’s arms.

“I think I should apologize, ‘cuz I realised this is all I’ve got…” His shoulders shrug upward in a sheepish little gesture, unable to do much more with his hands full. “The towel can help though, even if the clothes don’t work for you. And we'll find things for you! This monastery is one of the safest places to be in Fodlan, and people in need get help here all the time. So don't even worry about it!”

[frigidsurge]

He thankfully lets the unfortunate words slide, retreating into his own room.

And giving Tine space to once again retreat into her own mind.

How long is this going to last?

Almost definitely long enough; she will need more clothes, a place to stay, and, as such, a job, right?

There's an irony: she's supposed to be competent to lead what amounts to a small country.

But the only thing she could define as job experience is killing people.

She must be really drifting off before she realizes Caspar is back with the spare clothes promised.

So do the clothes work for her?

She's unfortunately unsure if the two of them are of similar stature, but they still seem a bit baggy.

But while she's by no means dry, her clothes don't look blatantly soaked, and she feels //somewhat// presentable.

"Ah- I'm sorry for wasting your time, but would it be okay if I just left my armor at your room for safety and borrowed the towel?"

She doesn't want it lost or destroyed, not when it so suddenly became one of the few connections she has to home.

"I am very thankful for all of your assistance, but could we please go and explain my presence?

It's stressful to be here without an explanation..."

[helswathed]

Escape From a Lifetime of Tragedy (Expedition Lore, Embark)

[frigidsurge]

Her

Missing Hilda?

That elicits an almost manic laugh from her.

She could live an eternity and never once wish to see her breathing again.

She didn't give in; she didn't break. That is the proof.

But it's his next words that render her speechless.

A family

how could he mean that?

He has everything he could ever want, everything his father and brother couldn't be bothered to offer.

Tine is unnecessary.

I bought upon my family's ruin. Are you sure it would be wise to keep me around?

But she looks up at him and

this is her parents best friend.

It wouldn't just be wrong to reject it.

She cannot imagine Mother wanting so.

"You know, Mother never forgot about you.?

She told me so many stories

Is it true that you once tried to climb a horse by jumping out the window."

She has made this one up, hoping to make him talk of their shared memories.

She doesn't know how to say it.

How to accept it or reject it, but that cannot change that it makes her

very

happy

[helswathed]

Yeah, that would be the story Tailtiu would tell about him, wouldn't it? Despite how heavy the situation had been until then, Lex couldn't help but laugh. It was short, and it was not at Tine's expense, rather at just how normal it all was after the gravity they had endured until then. It was a topic he'd discussed and recounted plenty of times, both to Tailtiu herself and to others she had brought it up to. He was more than happy to do it again, to remember a happier time for the sake of a girl who'd been deprived of such happiness of her own.

"Nah, that ain't true at all," Lex chuckled, unable to stop a proud grin from spreading across his face. "I didn't try. I did. I damn well succeeded. Horse wasn't too happy about it, but it worked, I'll have you know."

Tine didn't need to know about the many, many failed attempts that had preceded it. Granted, Tailtiu also hadn't been witness to most of them, because Lex had mostly practiced it in secret, but even when it came time to show off to his friends, he hadn't gotten it to work on the first try. Thank god there were some conveniently-placed bushes to break his fall.

"...Hurt like hell, though," Lex added. "Don't, uh, try doin' it yourself, by the way. Even assuming it works out and it somehow doesn't spook the horse enough to buck you off, it's really not a good idea. See, all the force of the landing gets concentrated right between your thighs. Landing on your feet from a long fall is bad enough, but that? Awful. Wretched. Horrible. Felt like I was gonna puke for hours."

[frigidsurge]

She

Well, she can't say she expected that response.

But she made it up, didn't she?

Is he leaning into her joke?

Or did Tine actually recall something her mother told her that she nearly lost?

That's a bittersweet idea.

Forgetting is inevitable, and Tailtyu spoke less and less of the good times as Tine was able to retain more.

There is nothing she can do to make it not feel like a betrayal, but when she manages to forget the feelings of a dead woman and focus on her own?

That little memory being returned to her is a special mercy.

"Wait, wait, but how did you do it?? It's not even a horrible idea, honestly. If I had a Pegasus or wyvern, I could do it from a window a couple of floors upstairs. It could even be a combat maneuver?"

She's kidding, of course; her monologue intertwined with giggling at the notion of one more suited for knightly romances than her genuine life.

She cannot help but intensely desire to keep on talking about such foolish things.