So I decided to rewrite it! (I'm quite new to fanfics so if you have any criticism, please share)
As Fang crumbled at their feet, Raya made a final strike, grabbing Namaari's blade and tossing her to the ground. Namaari fumbled off her back and reached to retrieve the pendant that had flown from her pocket. She clasped it in her hands, holding it close to her chest, "I never meant for any of this to happen!" She cried out in sudden desperation.
"LIAR!" Raya yelled in response as she raised her father's sword behind her head.
"You think I wanted this? You think I wanted the last dragon dead? You think I wanted to endanger my people; the entire world!" Namaari lay her head close to the ground, her back arched and sore. "Everything I have done, I did for my people. What have you done!?" She lifted her head, raising her gaze to meet Raya. She was in the same stiff position, her eyes wide with confusion and rage. She growled a response,
"What have I done!? My people were turned to stone when I was thirteen! I spent six years on my own, starving, cold and alone. All because of you. Everything that has happened is because of you! This is all your fault!" Raya tightened her grip on the sword, tears now streamed freely down her face. She didn't care. She wanted every word, every crack in her voice to be heared.
"My people are stone because of you. My Ba is gone because of you! Sisu is dead because of-" she was cut off,
"AND I'M SORRY!"
The tension in the air froze and it suddenly became hard to breathe. The two of them locked eyes, sharing the same broken and sad expression, "I'm so sorry, Raya."
Raya weakened the grip on her fathers sword, but the tears hadn't stopped.
"I never meant for any of this to happen."
Namaari repeated herself, but this time was quiet and sorrowful, "Everything I did I thought I was doing for my people. But you're right. I broke the world." Namaari lowered her head, hiding from her own embarrassment and shame. "All I wanted was for Fang to prosper. And now... I'm wasting whatever time it has left by fighting a pointless battle."
Raya stopped herself, finally allowing her arms to fall at her sides with the sword still gently placed in her palm. She tried to blink away any tears that had not yet fallen but at that point her face was already stained beyond hiding.
'Pointless'?
The word echoed through her mind over and over. This was pointless. For the first time since the fight, Raya moved her attention from Namaari as she stared at the chaos around them.
The once beautiful city of Fang was collapsing around them. People were losing their homes; families were being drawn apart through crowds and innocent people were being consumed by Druun. And Raya simply stood there with her entire body trembling. Only amongst the chaos did Raya hear the reassuring calls of her friends scattered all throughout Fang.
Boun, Noi, Tong and the Ongis signalled to eachother in unison; all with Fang citizens clinging to their side. They were working together. Unified. Raya looked down at her reflection in her father's sword 'What am I doing?' She gazed into her own broken expression before taking one last glance at Namaari.
The Fang warrior lay sprawled on the floor, hiding her head behind her back in a pathetic attempt to avoid any confrontation from Raya.
But when Namaari finally lifted her head, she wasn't met with Raya's blade, only an empty room.
Headcanon suggested by a lovely anon, which spawned into a fic. Read on Ao3 or under the cut.
Words of affirmation
Receiving compliments or words of encouragement are not uncommon for Namaari. She has gone through life aiming to be the best at everything she does – the best leader, the best warrior, the best Princess – and along with her success come compliments on her fighting techniques, her decision-making skills, and even her ability to look formidable in her formal attire.
As royalty, people lavish her with praises when they see an opportunity to get into her good graces, despite the obvious lack of sincerity behind their words, and it tires her to deal with fawning citizens. She loves her people, but she’d rather they’d love her back truly; false words mean nothing.
Chief Virana does not give out compliments easily, and is often faster to critique than to encourage. Namaari pretends her mother’s approval is nothing more than something important to receive from her Chief, but in reality, she craves hearing soft words such as ‘well done, Morning Mist’, whenever she is lucky enough to have them bestowed upon her.
As she grows up, she decides that sweet words are nice to have, but ultimately unnecessary – nothing more than a nod of acknowledgement is needed, before one can place it aside and move on to more important things. And then Raya comes back into her life.
Raya, who can flirt endlessly with elaborate innuendos until Namaari rolls her eyes at her ridiculousness. Raya, who is quite happy to press herself closer than absolutely necessary in their sparring sessions, just to set out some unspoken physical challenge.
And yet, when it comes to providing a genuine compliment, Raya practically freezes.
‘I like…like your hair,’ she mumbles one day to Namaari, glancing off to the side in order to avoid making eye contact. Her cheeks are flushed bright red, even though earlier in the day she had made a lewd comment about a sword which didn’t even have her blinking.
For some reason, Raya’s lack of suaveness when it comes to providing true compliments delights Namaari, and she hoards each instance close to her heart, happy in the knowledge that every word spoken was genuine in its meaning.
In return, she starts to gift Raya with compliments of her own.
For Raya is not used to receiving compliments, at least not in a long time. Her Ba used to provide encouragement and compliments often, but that was many years ago, and now he hesitates to put them into words sometimes, unsure of how this new dynamic works when he’s looking at a grown-up daughter rather than a small child.
Namaari has no difficulty in sharing them though.
‘You look very beautiful today,’ she tells Raya softly one evening, when they are having dinner. Raya stammers out some incomprehensible response, and spends the rest of the meal staring down at her bowl, occasionally darting her eyes over to Namaari.
‘I love that hairstyle on you,’ Namaari says to her a few days later, watching as Raya braids her hair back with expert precision.
‘Umm…thanks?’ Raya squeaks.
‘Your techniques were excellent today,’ Namaari informs her after a sparring session. This time, Raya just nods, and clears her throat before trying to awkwardly change the subject. Namaari can still see the smile on her lips though.
Eventually, Raya becomes better at both giving and receiving words of affirmation. Namaari learns how true compliments can be more meaningful than expected.
It isn’t the most important aspect of their relationship, but they like to encourage each other all the same.
Acts of service
Raya sees how much of a burden Namaari perpetually takes onto her shoulders, in her duties for Fang. She is so focused on helping her people rebuild and expand, or going away on diplomatic missions to help form better relations with the other lands, that she forgets to take a moment to breath sometimes.
Raya wants to take some of her stress away, by helping her carry out some of her duties or at least be involved in organizing certain aspects of the expansion projects, but she discovers quickly that Namaari is somewhat of a perfectionist. It is almost more stressful for her to find herself out of the loop or uninformed about decisions, than it would be to allow her undertake the duties in the first place, and so Raya finds it more helpful to just back off from the work unless asked to provide support.
It’s also a way for Namaari to feel as if she is atoning for her past actions. Raya wishes she wouldn’t feel the need to do so, but it is something they’ve argued about before, and they always end up stuck in a perpetual loop.
One of the ways Raya can help however, is with her cooking.
Namaari is an awful cook (something Raya unfortunately discovers herself with one ill-fated meal), but she is fascinated by watching Raya conjure something up in the kitchen.
Gone are the days of living off jackfruit jerky; with so many fresh and interesting ingredients at her disposal, and with the occasional reminders from Ba when she is unsure about something, Raya makes a whole array of different foods over the months.
It’s one of the best ways of getting Namaari to relax, Raya finds. Every mealtime when Raya is behind the pot, Namaari will abandon whatever work she is doing, and will sit and watch Raya finish making the dishes. They’ll always eat it together, and for a short while, Raya can feel the stress lift free from Namaari as she laughs over Raya’s words and enjoys good food.
Gifts
The first gift Namaari ever gave Raya has almost become a symbol for their entire complicated history. It represents new friendship, betrayal, and after so many years…forgiveness and a fresh start.
Namaari gives it back to her not long after the return of Kumandra, before she can second-guess herself.
‘It was a gift,’ she says, half-expecting it to be thrown back in her face. But Raya runs her finger gently over the surface of the dragon pendant, and then sends her a small smile. The next day, Namaari sees it hanging around her neck once more.
Once they start dating properly, Namaari can’t get it out of her mind how much the gift seemed to mean to Raya, both times.
‘She still doesn’t have that many personal belongings,’ Namaari informs Sisu, as an explanation as to why she was forcing the dragon to accompany her around endless market stalls in Talon, looking for the perfect gift for Raya. ‘I figure it’s because she was on the move so much in life, she couldn’t carry a lot.’
Sisu makes an ‘mmm’ sound, clearly not buying her reasoning completely, but allows the topic to drop when she’s distracted by shiny objects at the next stall.
Namaari finds a small knife that can be strapped to a wrist and slipped up the sleeve. She knows how much Raya prefers to be carrying at least one weapon with her at all times, and this would be perfect for diplomatic meetings – subtle, and easy to hide. And indeed, Raya wears it continuously after receiving it as a gift.
On another visit to another market, this time in Spine, Namaari spies a comb with a beautifully carved handle.
‘For your hair,’ she says in an attempt to be casual, thrusting it awkwardly in Raya’s direction that evening. Raya loves it, and it is indeed used every night before bed to comb out her braids.
Every time Namaari has to travel on diplomatic missions, she now ensures that she brings back something small for Raya.
‘I love the gifts,’ Raya tells her one day. ‘But I love even more how it shows you’re thinking of me when you’re away.’
One evening, as they are getting ready for bed, a small golden ring drops out of Namaari’s pocket by mistake.
‘Is…is that my old hair band?’ Raya asks, peering over the side of the bed as Namaari scoops it up in a hurry. ‘I thought I’d lost that years ago.’
‘I found it,’ Namaari says defensively, clutching it tight in her fist. ‘I guess…I never asked you if you wanted it back?’
Raya shakes her head with a smile, but the following evening, she steps up behind Namaari, sliding her hand into her pocket. Namaari watches as she pulls out the hair band and threads it onto a small gold chain.
From then on, they both wear a gift from the other around their necks.
Physical touch
Sometimes, everything can become overwhelming, the past traumas so great that it seems suffocating. And in that darkness, sometimes the gentle touch of another is the only thing keeping the world grounded.
Raya goes six long years without receiving a hug. At the time, she doesn’t see it as a big deal – she’s grown up fast, and learnt that the world isn’t the welcoming place her father once hoped it could be. Even moreso, her Ba was the last one to hug her, and she doesn’t mind keeping it that way.
Now though, she finds comfort in the small touches. It’s in the featherlight way Namaari’s nose brushes against her neck as they curl up together in bed, waiting for the morning sun to rise. It’s in the gentle trail of Namaari’s fingers across her back, as they stand talking to others, and Namaari absentmindedly reaches out for her. It’s in the soft kiss against her temple, when Namaari has to go back to work after lunch.
Occasionally, she will need to be encompassed by that comfort, and in this moment, she will go and find Namaari, stepping closer until her forehead rests on her shoulder. No matter what she was previously doing, Namaari will pause everything, wrapping her arms tightly around Raya, and they stand there until Raya can feel as if she can breathe again.
Namaari has a habit of falling too far into her own mind sometimes. She is an outwardly composed and pragmatic individual, but internally, all sorts of doubts and guilt still plague her, and there are days where she can’t shake off the feeling that she isn’t doing enough in her life to atone for her past, or that she is a fraud who has no right in stepping up and trying to lead her people when her previous actions cost them so much.
It’s difficult for her to ask for help in these moments. Raya learns instead to notice the signs of a bad day, or whenever Namaari gets trapped into a downwards spiral, and she will take Namaari by the hands and sit them somewhere quiet.
There they can actually talk, and sometimes Namaari feels comfortable enough to share her fears. But the most important thing, Raya finds, is to slide an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in tight and peppering her cheek and bare shoulder with small kisses.
Raya refuses to let her go until she sees at least one small smile.
Quality time
In the early days of the relationship, there is still so much separation between the two of them. Raya is in Heart, helping her Ba welcome back everyone to their lands, fixing up the buildings, ensuring the harvest gets started…There are so many jobs to do, and Raya knows Namaari is undergoing the same issues back in Fang, coupled with an expansion of their kingdom.
On top of all of this, there are endless council meetings and diplomatic missions, so if it isn’t Namaari being busy with politics, it is Raya, much to her annoyance.
Whenever they do get to spend time together, they ensure no minute is wasted. They have meals together, and spar together, and find all sorts of random ways to entertain themselves. Namaari loves to go out in the evenings and watch the night sky, attempting to teach the constellations to Raya; but Raya decides that these constellations are ridiculous, and so they create their own. Raya meanwhile loves to go for hikes in the woods, dragging Namaari along to discover new plants and wildlife, and occasionally climbing the trees.
They both love to sit in bed next to each other, quietly reading their books, or discussing their day. Sometimes, Raya will lie sideways on the bed, her stomach across Namaari’s legs and her arms hanging over the edge, so she can carve pieces of wood into intricate shapes, with Namaari reads out loud for the both of them.
Even after several years, and living together permanently, Raya finds herself reflecting on the fact that she never gets bored as long as she’s with Namaari.
They are currently lying in a field somewhere in the depths of Heart land, enjoying the sun shining onto their faces and the grass tickling their skin. She lazily wiggles her hand until it makes contact with Namaari.
‘Dep la?’ Raya whispers, and Namaari grunts in response. ‘You don’t get bored with me, right?’
Namaari merely shuffles closer without even opening an eye, resting her cheek against Raya’s shoulder.
‘Don’t be stupid,’ she mumbles, and she’s curled up so close that Raya can feel the vibrations of her voice on her skin.
‘Didn’t think so,’ Raya says in satisfaction. They continue to enjoy the peace.
Raya coming to Fang to treat her girl with something spicy *wenk and comes to visit Namaari naked underneath her red cape. She just casually walks toward her gfs room THEN Chief Virana stops her to catch up and she's just standing there DYING. Then Namaari spots them and like prolongs the talk and comments on Raya's sweating and asks her to take her cape off and just be like...
Y'know, I'm really loving the return to a "tropes are good" mindset. Embrace the cliché. Use the overused. If it makes you feel good to read and write, don't stress if it's not completely original. It's so much more fun to not agonize over having to make every aspect of a piece revolutionary
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