lance of legend

finn | knights of seiros | closed blog with TOA

[sacrificialspear]

Finn from FE4&5 | Knight in Knights of Seiros | Affiliated with TOA | Written by Vivi

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Sparknotes:

Finn is taken from post FE4. To sync up with our current Leif, as he has not yet ascended to take the throne, Finn has not yet left for his 3 year desert trip. He followed Leif around while he was still in Jugdral, then stayed in Leonster to assist with the rebuilding until following Leif to Fodlan.

Finn is not the father of Nanna. As discussed with our current Lachesis, Finn will not be biological father, but the father who stepped up.

I have only played the games, and as such my portrayal of Finn will be based solely on what is within the games. As for translations, I have no idea what translations I was given to play so I will try to defer to whatever the latest official name is for things when possible.

I'm a literal Jugdral baby be nice to me.

Random/unprompted asks are fine. Unless specified by content or discussed ooc, I will assume asks from ask memes are not related to TOA canon and will consider them AU.

Shipping: I am open to shipping, Finn is less so, so this will be something that needs to be discussed ooc and worked through ic before anything happens. Due to past experiences, I prefer to ship only with people I know well ooc. Ship flavored asks for ask memes are fine so long as we have interacted in some way before.

NSFW: I am fine with NSFW content but I will only write with muns I am comfortable with ooc. Implications and jokes are fine.

Finn's portrayal may include some references to behaviors of self-harm through the form of intentional neglect. This as well as general triggers will be tagged when appropriate.

[sacrificialspear]

"It should have been peaceful." Every child grows into an adult. The realities of life don't allow people to retain that which they were born with forever. But in another world, in another time, Leif might have grown at his own pace, instead of the world's.

"You deserved better than the same fate as I."

The words leave his mouth, but it is not Finn who speaks them. Or, at least, he does not plan to. It is as if they come on their own, before he can stop them, leaving him only to stand blankly in the aftermath. After a moment of silence, his gaze focuses again.

"If there is nothing that you have need of me for, my lord, I think it might be best if I go lie down." He would rather be doing something with his hands and keeping himself busy, but…this time, he thinks, it might be best to rest.

[diadic]

    The same fate as Finn... For all the stories Leif had been weaned on of his parents, there is startlingly little of the page then knight that had accompanied them at their heels in their prime. A thousand little memories of Quan and Ethlyn but with nothing more than a blue blur behind them.

What, indeed, was Finn like back then?

It's a subject of curiosity with few alive to tell the tale, and when Finn speaks again, it is as if to forbade Leif from asking further on the subject. Not of what time Finn was forced to grow, of what version of Finn had died to make way for the one Leif sees now.

For the man who buried a part of himself to let Leif live, however, Leif finds himself unwilling to push the subject anyway. He nods.

“...Alright, Finn. I'll come get you when we march back to the monastery, so get some rest!!”

It is all he can offer before he leaves the tent, for when the wounds are not physical but instead mental, what use was the services of a boy too young to build the wisdom to heal? But before he runs out, intent to find other familiar faces, he casts one last glance to Finn.

Over a decade ago, perhaps this was what Finn did before he left Leonster in flames too.

— the end.

[filthtouched]

dude help me finn-ish... my homework

sorry.

niles & finn.

[filthtouched]

Niles, he is warned almost immediately upon his arrival, please be on your best behavior.

Niles, he is implored just moments later, when he turns the corner and is met with the exhausted eyes of a clergyman he may or may not have teased—slowly, sweetly, until his face twisted with contempt—please do not harass the faculty.

And that's their first mistake, you know—saying please. How could he ever refuse the temptation to stretch that plea as far as it can go? They shouldn't have asked if they weren't ready to beg.

Thus, to the poor knight who's been cursed with standing by:

"Sounds a little like I'll need a chaperone, huh? Wanna volunteer? I'll try very hard to be on my best behavior, heh..."

@sacrificialspear

[sacrificialspear]

Finn has spent over a decade of his life playing chaperone to two children. He is really not interested in a third.

Thus, in response to the obvious needling and prodding happening at his side, Finn does not turn from his post where he has been stationed to give the man the satisfaction. Rather, he spares him no more than a brief glance from the corner of his eyes before returning his attention before him. "No. Thank you."

Usually when students are sent to the knights for some kind of disciplinary behavior, it involves putting them to work in some way. Usually on menial chores that the knights themselves do not wish to partake in on that particular day. No such chores exist at the moment, so he has nothing immediate with which he might offer the new student as a distraction.

Though his behavior thus far was hardly befitting of a student, at a glance. "If you are so eager to find yourself a chaperone, you might seek out one of the professors of your house for suggestions on how to better yourself. That is what they're there for, after all."

[sacrificialspear]

heal what has been hurt

herald | flying/riding +1

[hermidetta]

the flatness of sir finn's comment slides right off of her if only because of semantics, but as far as she is concerned, inspiring confidence is worlds different from not worrying. stealing another longing peek at the flower, she misses the way he closes his eyes; stealing yet another one, she simply takes his hand and boards the horse without any fuss. maybe bernadetta von varley was doomed to live life with her head down, but everything would be just fine.

maybe.

hopefully.

they would just have to find out. she blinks back into the present, still hugging the planter, though considering the urgency of their travel, she already knows she'll have to clutch onto something to keep from flying off the horse. without relinquishing her claim on the cargo, she decides on pinching the hem of his clothes. "m-me? oh, bernadetta."

von varley, but that part was never important to anyone who really mattered.

"um, thank you, too. yes." a tiny nod. socially awkward, but polite. "for taking me. i wish i could have ridden on my own, but i skip too many lectures to pass most of the mounted class exams." inspiring confidence is one thing, but should she really be sabotaging it with her big fat mouth?

well, no matter. it was her green thumb that counted right now, not her academic prowess or lack thereof. and speaking of the former—the plant's light already seems to begin dimming in protest, but bernadetta's gentle prod at a root seems to school it back to its full glory. "be good, okay? o-oh! not you, sir finn! i'm sure you're, uh, plenty good."

[sacrificialspear]

Bernadetta. The name strikes no familiar chord to the knight, not that he had expected it to. His interactions with students had been few thus far, aside from those he'd heard of in passing from others. Her name is not one that had been brought to his attention before. Perhaps with good reason. "You should not be skipping your classes." He says, more so out of obligation than any genuine emotion. It is not his job to ensure students attend class, after all, nor does he have any duty to ensure her education in particular.

Once she is settled behind him, he gives his horse a light pull. It is not that the same as the one he rode in Jugdral, that horse remained in Leonster's stables, but the monastery granted horses he had been assigned was obedient as any well trained horse. It takes off on his order at a steady pace.

The sound of her voice behind him briefly strains his ears before she assures him who her intended conversation partner is. "Does talking to plants actually achieve anything?" He asks. His gaze remains forward as they ride, watching the horizon and skies for any signs. Their employers had pressed a certain amount of urgency, but that did not mean they could rush forward recklessly. "I have heard from people who insist on the idea as fact, but as someone who does not tend to plants, it sounds ridiculous."

[sacrificialspear]

Act 2, scene 2, lines 133 – 135

Aphotic

[encantresse]

a wise and seasoned woman had once told dorothea that "lost interest" was a euphemism for one's terrible luck with love—take a broken heart that's sworn off romance altogether, for example.

she eyes finn over curiously. maybe he refuses to be with another after the tragic loss of a partner. or maybe he thinks himself unlovable and awaits the right person to prove him wrong. in any case, the man is all the more fascinating now.

"really?" surprise colors her words. "i didn't know you had children!" she welcomes finn's gesture, polite as it is helpful, and takes an additional step behind him to further shield herself from any more passersby.

so he has a family. must be the former, then—he's lost the mother of his children. how awfully sad.

dorothea wracks her brain trying to recall a student she knows who comes from the deer house and resembles the man standing before her. it's to no avail, unfortunately, and she relents with a sigh. "what's her name?"

[sacrificialspear]

“Just the one.” He does not think he could have handled any more additions to his task of ensuring Lord Leif’s survival. He was ever grateful that Nanna had been an obedient and quiet child. He could not have asked for better, in the circumstances they found themselves in.

There is still no sign of anyone who matches the description of the one they’re looking for, nor does anyone make a suspicious move towards the theater’s doors. Finn lets out a sigh through his nose as he continues to scan the crowd.

“Nanna.” He answers her question with the same matter-of-fact tone that he uses for most things. “But you would be forgiven for not realizing that. There is none of my blood in her, and she is the spitting image of her mother.” 

He has no idea how common exchanges are between the houses. If Dorothea does not know her, then there is no need to be overly forthcoming with detail. So, he falls back into silence once more at that, narrowing his eyes upon the crowd.

[silviapirouette]

sadtigger.gif

Mission Board: Herald — No Skill Points

with sacrificialspear

[silviapirouette]

He turns away, and for a moment Silvia is seized with the icy fear that he is abandoning her, that she had pushed him to a point where he was no longer willing to help her.

Then, he crouches down, and the swirling doubts that had begun to creep up are washed up in a wave of relief.

Ever the knight, even still.

Her previous pride all but shattered, Silvia only hesitates for a split second. She half-climbs half-falls onto his back, stiff arms draping loosely around his shoulders. It was humiliating, shameful, even. In any other circumstance, she would have responded with a multitude of emotions — indignation, frustration, petty anger. But her own folly had carried her this far — it would not carry her back.

Energy spent, she has no spirit to complain, or even to speak at all. She lies limply, only able to pray that Finn will have the strength to see them both back alive.

[sacrificialspear]

The snow beneath their feet provides an uneven surface and makes it difficult, for a moment, to maintain his footing as her weight is added to his. Difficult, but not impossible. After a moment’s adjustments, Finn rises with Silvia set on his back and begins his march in reverse.

The terrain had already been difficult to navigate, and this time is no different. Harder, in fact, as cold seeps into every muscle and the weight makes him less steady in his steps. The march to return to the inn takes much longer this time. So long, in fact, that by the time they make it and Finn stumbles through the front door, the other knights have all retired for the evening, with only the commander of this assignment left waiting for them.

He briefly meets Finn’s eyes, looks over their forms, then sighs and nods towards the fire before leaving as well.

Finn crosses the empty tavern, leaving a wet and snowy path behind him. A chair sits nearby the fire. He kicks it to turn is as much as he can towards the flame before stopping in front of it. “Sit.” He manages through clattering teeth.

[silviapirouette]

sadtigger.gif

Mission Board: Herald — No Skill Points

with sacrificialspear

[silviapirouette]

Everything seems so distant now, and Silvia has trouble keeping focus. Dimly, she feels something strong and warm pull her up, and she clings feebly to it, a lifeline in the endless snow. A moment later, something is draped over her shoulders, and her slight frame is drowning in his jacket. Still, the dull sting of the wind and snow fades, replaced with the vague heat of the still-warm jacket.

Now shielded from the worst of the chill, some semblance of feeling begins to return to her body. Still, the coat can only reflect the heat she has, and there is little to be returned to begin with. Clumsy fingers pull the coat around her tighter, and she dimly realizes that Finn is speaking

She hears his voice as if from far away, and feels dull and stupid trying to process his words.

Walk. Can she walk? Well, of course she could. Anyone past the age of three ought to be able to.

Another second passes, and cold-addled brain finally catches up to the meaning of the question.

Oh. Walk.

Legs uncovered by the coat, she still cannot feel anything from her lower body, but still Silvia tentatively tries to tests them. She is somewhat surprised to find them still at least somewhat functional, legs bending without their usual flexibility, but still responsive. However, when she makes to check her feet, she finds the issue. Both feet are frozen into numb blocks, toes curled and unwilling to unstick from the soles of her feet.

"Cold," she mumbles. "My feet... Give me your socks..."

[sacrificialspear]

He is not talking his boots off in this weather.

Finn sighs once more. He thought it might likely come to this, though he hoped it wouldn't be the case. As the storm rages, there is no time for things like dignity and hesitation. Every precious second counts if they wish to survive this. Finn has survived a great many number of things before, this will be no different.

"One moment." A moment is spent carefully steadying her to ensure that she will not fall the second he steps away. Once he is certain that she is steady, he takes a step back and turns from her. The snow makes his maneuvering more difficult, but after a bit of shuffling he manages to set himself before her. He crouches down, only grimacing in the slightest as the cold and wet seeps into the knees of his pants.

"Climb on." He has carried Leif and Nanna through countless struggles in countless ways. This will not be that different, he imagines, save for a bit of extra weight. "It will be faster this way, and we can get you warmed up sooner." After a pause, he continues. "And socks too."

[sacrificialspear]

that which is owed

herald | axe +1

[ulirblessed]

Surprise tugs at the arch of her brow, the momentary shock in her expression soon giving way to a scoff. "Foolish, huh. Now when did you get such lip? Here I was, praising you for taking good advice—seems you've much to learn as far as talking to a lady is concerned."

Arms crossing, she turns and leans back against the counter, humming. "I wasn't saying that to garner sympathy, you know. Or to be a sad sack." She lifts her head, staring at a piece of dislodged wood in the ceiling. That would have to be fixed. "I was literally... no one. No past. No name. No memories to call my own. That's just a fact."

"But," head inclined, she turns to Finn, "that was insensitive of me. I haven't forgotten it. The stream of gratitude and love I got from so many people when I was cured from the petrification. That meant so much to me. You all do. It was because I was no one that the life I lived in Fiana was my everything. I'd never give up those years with you all. You're family."

She nudges his arm with her elbow, "You always will be."

"But... I have, yes. I went to go see Febail and Patty the moment I got my memories back. It meant going back to Yngvi, which should technically be home, but... it's weird, you know? It's strange, yet familiar. It was where I was born, but..."

So much of her life was spent away from it. It was odd to walk the roads of a land that was hers, and have to ask about its locales, its landmarks. Her only comfort—if one could even call it such—was that she and her children were similar, in this way.

"Leaves me feeling a bit restless, I s'pose."

[sacrificialspear]

…had he offended her again? His eyes widen slightly. That had not been his intent, not when she was one of the people that he respected most. Though he makes to correct himself, Eyvel moves on without waiting for him. Finn slowly deflates at her side, frowning to himself as he nods along to everything she says.

"I imagine it would have been similar to how I felt when we finally returned to Leonster for the first time." On that day, he had felt more than he had in quite some time. And, at the same time, that feeling of loss had wormed its way into his chest anew. "For so long, I had thought of nothing but returning there, and once I was there…Somehow, I still felt lost."

So much of what he had known was gone, and what remained was so busy in turn that they might as well have still been lost to him. With his lifelong duty now completed, what was there left for him to do?

He had initially made plans but…surprises here in Fodlan had made those unnecessary now. Now, he needed to plan what to do with his life anew.

But that was not important to here and now. He shakes his head. "But I am glad that you had the opportunity. And…though our time together back then was not long, I am glad still that you have remembered it." It was not as though they had been particularly close when they had both been part of Sigurd's army, but it was something else shared still. "It…it was lonely to think myself the only one left."

Every day that proves itself more and more untrue. Finn does not share the same casual boldness that she does to to nudge her in turn. "I…Lord Leif said something similar recently. He called us a family back then."

There are grooves in the countertop from years of weapons being passed along it's service. Finn matches them with a frown. "It seems I was the only one not warm enough to think that."

[sacrificialspear]

no horses indoors please

Epidemic | Riding +1

[diadic]

    Leif figured the response he'd get would be something like this. He never brought it up because he knew Quan's ghost would kill his delusion sooner than he could even petition for it to come true. To ask or say it aloud to Finn would be just the same as to kill it even faster.

For the boy who wished to keep on dreaming, he could never say it to the one who he pictured in the center of that very dream.

“...of all the men in my life, you were the one I liked the most, Finn.”

Yet still, Leif tries to explain himself anyway even though he knows this dream is ending. One last farewell: a note to end it on with sincerity rather than his anger and his jealousy.

“Dagdar, King Ulster, Duke Tarrah, Asbel's father, August, Dryas... Many women were my mothers and sisters, but...” This is the eulogy he writes for a man still living, face full of mourning. “...no one was ever my father besides you, Finn...”

[sacrificialspear]

"I…see." What is there that he can possibly say?

Lord Quan had heaped expectation upon his shoulders in a similar way, hadn't he? Bold claims, his personal attention, a lance pressed into his hands — a valuable knight, one that cannot be lost.

He's lost so much to carry those expectations, hasn't he?

And here that man's son comes baring more. Father, he says, offering a mantle that does not fit. Father, he says, like Finn has ever felt like anything more than a ghost of a man trying to survive in the time that he's known him.

Nanna had been one thing. A promise to a friend. Another one left behind by all who promised to see her again. He had not tried to become her father, but from nothingness it had sprung.

For Leif, that nothingness is not there. For before him, before Finn, he will always belong to Leonster. As he does too, but not in the way that a little boy must have dreamed of.

Finn stays quiet. It is easier to watch the horse eat from a nearby hay bale, and so he does. "That is not a role I have ever known how to fill." A knight, a survivor, but not a home. "You were born for higher aspirations than a man run down for a father."

[diadic]

    “I wouldn't call it common...” Leif speaks dodgily, realizing he's throwing himself from one interrogation straight into another. If he was invoking the stern father beforehand, now he's invoking the even more stern knight.

A fully familiar picture now, the slightly new one faded and replaced within a blink of an eye.

Leif clears his throat, trying again.

“But sometimes it can't be helped!! The one time I got drunk, it was for Ares's sake, got it??”

[sacrificialspear]

Lord Ares? Exasperation rolls over him with such force that Finn can do little more but shut his eyes and heave a sigh that surely ages him some years. Of course it would be at a Nordion's probing that he would find himself playing ridiculous games.

(And he imagines he cannot even mention it without the blame finding its way back to him either.)

"Perhaps it would be advisable, Lord Leif, to abandon such displays in the future." The last thing they need is him developing an unfortunate habit.

He had arrived at the event thinking it an overly extravagant affair, but he was starting to worry about all the potential opportunities it seemed to provide. Finn studies Leif again quietly. "Are you sure you will fare well on your own tonight?"

[bxldrsdraumar]

look at me Finn. we are carbo-loading.

[bxldrsdraumar]

Yes, of course. Perhaps there might have been a part of Sigurd that had hoped if not expected for Finn to have wanted to speak with him further, to hear about what he had gone through to be here and to convey the same, but he was not so dense as to understand that that time had passed a lifetime ago, perhaps so far beyond that neither of them would have had anything to tell one another.

Just another of life’s little tragedies, that he mourned with a knowing tilt to his lips and an incline of his head.

“Then I shall see you in the training yard,” he said as they stood, pushing in the chair quietly, and casting his glance about the dining area for any other customers that might have wanted for his attention - there would always be someone wanting for his attention, even should it not be the one that he desired to give it to.

Sigurd made the motion, half-aborted, to reach out and clasp Finn’s hand, a gesture of respect man-to-man, but instead he snapped his fingers and lifted the hand to his eyeline, holding up a finger.

“Actually, a moment, if you would. Just wait right there, shan’t be too long-”

And he ran back to the kitchens, leaving Finn for how long he did not know, but bustling back into the open space bearing a little parcel in his hands: a package of the house tea, the only thing that Finn had seemed to enjoy out of their meeting, wrapped in the standard frill and bow of the cafe, with a little card attached.

“I have no finer taste for the flavors, but call this the very least that I can provide. Well met, again, young Finn - Sir Finn. When we meet next, it will be as equal knights, won’t it? I should like to see what you’ve grown into. For Quan’s sake, for my sister’s.”

And without giving Finn the chance to respond, Sigurd flicked him a little salute in farewell, beginning the bustle about the dining room to a task more daunting by far than any he had encountered: cleaning.

- fin.

[bxldrsdraumar]

look at me Finn. we are carbo-loading.

[bxldrsdraumar]

“We are nothing without our beliefs, are we.” It wasn’t a question. The cant to his smile then was almost resigned - he would not continue to rub this young man’s nose in his successes if he did not have the heart to see them. It seemed as though Finn understood exactly the point that he was making, and while his acknowledgement was terse and resistant, it was an acknowledgement nonetheless.

Whether he wanted to hear it or not, this was precisely the same manner in which Leif had regarded him, all that time ago, in a situation that was very nearly similar to this.

Sigurd lifted the teacup to his lips, took a sip of the fresh tea, eyes narrowing in thought. “And what facts are those? It seems that we’ve merely been speaking in opinion this whole time - which you of course have earned, make no mistake. I’m not so proud as to think my views are the only ones, if another case is presented.”

He knew that he had the reputation of being rather hard-headed, but those who had known him even briefly would have known that he was more reasonable than all that, that he would give counsel to those who bid it, and was easily swayed by firm reason and a good heart.

Finn had a good heart, at least, in this moment.

“In any case, I believe my shift is coming near end quite soon. I won’t expect you to wait, if you’ve other duties, but if you should like to stay, I’m certain the kitchens can provide your fill. You did not get the meal you came for, did you?”

[sacrificialspear]

It feels ridiculous, considering their surroundings, to bring up the obvious. That Sigurd is meant to be dead, not prancing around a continent away while the children of their follies pick up the pieces left behind. Sigurd could dance around it all he liked, but there would be an inevitable moment where things came to a head, as all things do.

…the tea really is effective. Finn swallows his thoughts along with more of it before returning cup to saucer with a shake of his head. "Nevermind."

His focus is his lord, assuring that he returns home to claim his place, and finally completing the dreams of those who should be there in his place. Everything else until then, both physical and not, both real and not, is nothing more than a distraction. Sigurd will eventually die a second time, and Finn can only hope that the shock waves of it will be far less grand.

"I will not keep you." He has no interest in speaking further. Finn gestures for Sigurd to take his leave. "By all means." He hasn't eaten yet, but he's not exactly sure that he can after everything that has happened here…at the very least, he will need to sit with himself and his tea for a time before attempting it.

"I'm sure you have more important things to be doing with this…opportunity."

[silviapirouette]

sadtigger.gif

Mission Board: Herald — No Skill Points

with sacrificialspear

[silviapirouette]

He is right, he is so insufferably, nobly right that it makes her want to scream. It is like she is sixteen again, staring up at Lord Sigurd astride his horse. Just another naïve, helpless girl to stand back to watch the knights and the nobles, the men who played at war.

"Be a good little girl and run along back to the castle."

"You're acting like a child."

In stubborn defiance she pushes leaden feet forward, one step at a time. Still, her stamina is fading, pace slowing as each second bleeds warmth into the endless storm.

She is not foolish enough to deny the peril of the situation she now finds herself in, but it is hard to think now, and her last dregs of pride crush the words of concession from her throat. She stops walking, shaking so badly she can barely speak.

She turns her head, looking back. "I..." Silvia hesitates. She steps backwards, towards him. "I— UAAAAAH!"

Normally-nimble feet catch a hidden rock, and Silvia's usual grace fails her as she plunges head-first into the snow.

Slowly, heavily, Silvia pushes herself out of the snow onto her hands and knees, but no further. She doesn't seem to notice that her hair has crystallized into twin green icicles, that her clothes are soaked through and frozen solid, that fingers and toes are already tinged with blue. She stops shivering.

"Finn," she says sleepily, voice suddenly very small. "I'm cold."

[sacrificialspear]

All those years of dancing have made her more difficult to keep a hold of than he expected. Silvia slips away from him and for a moment, he expects her to disappear into the snowstorm to add herself to a long list of never-to-be-seen-agains. His hand stretches to follow without asking.

It makes it all the more pathetic when she slips past his grasp to crash down on the floor.

Finn ends up staring at her a beat longer than he would've liked. By the time he recovers, she is already pulling herself back out of it. After a moment, he sighs once more. All of this could've been avoided…but at least the message seems to have finally gotten through.

He leans down to help her back up to her feet. First thing's first, there's the obvious to take care of. Once he is sure she won't fall over again, his hands move away from her to the front of his jacket. It takes a moment to undo the buttons, but soon enough he's shedding it and dropping it around her shoulders only to redo them again.

(This too is familiar in a way…though he imagines being compared to the actual children he cared for is not exactly something she wants to hear right now.)

Once the last button is properly closed at her throat, he sets about fixing the collar to block out as much snow as possible. The wind cuts unpleasantly through his own clothes now, but it's fine. He's been through worse. At least he has boots on.

"Can you walk?" He asks her.

[silviapirouette]

sadtigger.gif

Mission Board: Herald — No Skill Points

with sacrificialspear

[silviapirouette]

"If this is what the Church is always pullin' here, how come I never heard nothin' about any of this? And I ain't just 'runnin' away', I'm doin' what you lot are too afraid to do. The whole point of all this was to be goin' to Baile, so here I am!"

She tries an exasperated sigh of her own, fixing him with a stern gaze and a deep pout.

"Some of us don't need fancy jackets and gloves. 'Sides, what type of dancer would I be if I wasn't ready to dance anywhere at any time? I'll be able to make it just fine, thank you."

Even as she says it, she knows his words are true. She had grossly underestimated both the severity of the weather and the distance to Baile. Still, her pride would not allow her to concede that point, and she rebukes his words.

"Go back with ya? And what would the point of alla that be? To march back to the inn, and sit in that exact same chair, and listen to that captain lecture me on how I should just wait until I can follow some knights somewhere I could get to on my own?"

Stubbornly, she takes his hand, pulling stiff legs out of the ever-piling snow, before abruptly letting it go, turning back in the approximate direction of her previous quest. She shakes the snow from her body and continues to walk.

Still, her limbs felt numb and unresponsive, the fire that had previously kept her moving smothered by the relentless cold. Her current pace paled in comparison to her previous vigor, and she cannot hide the shaking running through her torso or the chattering of her teeth as she shoots back at him. "E-Either go back with the rest of the knights, or s-stop botherin' me. The only thing that's u-unbearable is bein' stuck in that inn with you."

[sacrificialspear]

Twelve grant him patience. "You're acting like a child."

Were the circumstances really so unimaginable to provoke this kind of reaction? Missions went awry all the time, and they were not the first people in existence to be delayed by poor weather. He cannot for the life of him understand why a delay would cause this severe of a temper tantrum in someone who had marched in war before.

If her words are meant to hurt or strike a nerve, then they fail at both. It doesn't matter to him if she finds him unbearable. It is not his job to be likeable. But it is his job to protect people and serve where he can, and he is growing tired of pleading with people so determined to make themselves suffer.

Finn grits his teeth as he follows after her. Though her head start gives her distance, his stride is longer, and it isn't hard to keep pace with her when her body is more concerned with shivering than running. "Are you so determined to run off to your death!?"

The again punctuates his question, unspoken. If she does not want his hand, then he will not offer it. This time when he reaches her, his hand closes around her arm instead. "I can scold you while we walk, if that makes any difference. I can make this just as miserable as waiting in the inn, without the luxury of warmth."

He will not allow her to become another lost soul that leaves him behind.

"Come back. If the storm breaks in the early morning, before the others wake up, you can take my horse." It will likely never forgive him for this, but better a higher chance to reach the destination than collapsing from stubbornness midway there. "The village will be there even if you arrive a few hours later."

[wolfhednn]

———　( modern au )　how do they feel about enabling location sharing on their phone with their partner? family? close friends?

dash game! reblog and include your muse's answer in the tags!

[silviapirouette]

sadtigger.gif

Mission Board: Herald — No Skill Points

with sacrificialspear

[silviapirouette]

The fire of indignation is easily enough to stave off the chill, and stubborn determination keeps her abreast of the ever-piling snow as even Silvia's light footsteps are not enough to avoid sinking into the powder.

The intermittent gust of the wind does little to quell the steady tempo of her footfalls, and she soon settles into a rhythm, slowly but steadily making her way forward. The storm nips at every exposed piece of skin, but she still presses onwards, finding a comfortable numbness that keeps out the worst of the chill.

She can't say how long she had been walking when a sound rises above the constant rush of noise, breaking her from her singular focus. She pauses, waiting until it again peaks above the gale, sharp and urgent yet deadened by the vast expanse of snow. Now fully distracted from her forward goal, she turns halfway, blinking the ice out of her eyelashes as she squints through the blinding white.

The voice calls out again, louder this time, and this time she is just able to make out its tone, as well as the vague features of the approaching silhouette.

Damn, it was Finn. She should've pretended not to hear.

Silvia waits until she can fully see his face before dignifying him with a reply. She snorts and turns fully to face him, rolling her eyes. "What does it look like?" She turns back and continues trudging through the snow. "I didn't even wanna be here in the first place", she complains. "You knightly lot just picked the first students you saw, and sent 'em off without a thought of whether they actually wanted to be there."

She crosses her arms and kicks at a clump of snow. "And now that we're here, the mighty Knights of Seiros are stopped in their tracks by a little bit of snow. So I'm goin' on my ownsome, cuz' I'm sure that Baile will be a far prettier sight than you lot."

[sacrificialspear]

Of course she can't make this easy. Women can never make anything easy once they get an idea in their stubborn heads. Finn closes his eyes against both the snow and her for a moment as he heaves one long, aggravated sigh.

"Part of being a student at Garreg Mach is accepting assignments like this." He's come to learn that it's common for students to be ordered to do all sorts of things in the Church's name as part of their education. He has some…opinions on the practice, but it is not his place to judge the demands of those who offer them hospitality during their stay.

"I'm sorry that you find what is asked of you inconvenient." A generous assessment, as raising his legs to continue his march towards her causes the lip of his boot to catch on some snow and allow it to slip inside. Miserable. "But you cannot just run away and expect to be able to come back to the monastery with no consequences."

A bit of snow crumbles and shifts beneath his step. He stumbles, but manages to recover himself before he ends up accidentally falling into her. Finn straightens with a sigh to frown down at her properly, expression pulled with worry. "You call it a little snow, but you're hardly dressed for it. I understand that you're accustomed to your outfit, but these are not the sort of environments you usually journey through, are they?"

Honestly…Finn offers her his arm. "Pretty or not, you won't get to enjoy it if you're too frozen stiff to move." Not to mention…a dark thought tries to wriggle its way to the forefront of Finn's mind, but he is quick to smother it and shove it away. "Will you please come back with me? We can find something to try and make this a little less unbearable for you."

[sacrificialspear]

Act 2, scene 2, lines 133 – 135

Aphotic

[encantresse]

was it a glamorized idea? ...maybe to some extent, but the opera world was a different entity than what the average knight might be used to. dramatic as it might seem to the likes of finn, a straightforward approach would never work here, considering the lengths taken to hide a secret rendezvous. not that she could blame the woman; the public was a scrutinizing beast, and it only took the slightest misstep to waltz right into a career-ending scandal.

"yes, we should've."

her response is pointed. a polite 'i told you so!' as dorothea shifts to angle herself away from the citizen who peers curiously at mittelfrank's own former songstress. "it's too late now. let's just hope no one recognizes me. the last thing we need is a crowd."

she relents with an amicable shrug to show she's not truly upset, and continues looking passersby over in search of adrina or a man matching the captain's description. for extra measure, the brim of her hat is lowered, breath baited as she waits to see if the curious onlooker yields from out of the corner of her eye.

when they do, she heaves a sigh of relief.

but with no sign of the performers just yet, dorothea figures there's still plenty of time to kill — and turns her attention to sir finn.

"have you got a love waiting for you back home?"

[sacrificialspear]

…he feels as though he is being scolded.

Finn allows himself a moment to clear his throat before shifting his position in the hopes of better blocking her from the sight of any stranger passing by. They will be here for a time, it seems, and it would truly be annoying if that time extended due to his own misjudgement.

His faces scan the crowds, but he is less familiar with who they are hunting than the student beside him, so he is not as confident in his search. When she interrupts him with a question, he allows it to break his focus more easily than he normally would.

"Do I…no." Finn shakes his head with a frown. "Such circumstances never found me. I was occupied with my service as a knight when I was young, and…well, I lost interest in such endeavors when I was older." The lack of opportunity provided by his circumstances aside, the idea of love had been the last thing on his mind when every day was focused so much on surviving.

After a moment of silence, he clears his throat. It is…strange, to be discussing such things with a student, let alone one he does not even know well. "My daughter is here, however. She is studying in the Deer house, I believe, alongside my young lord." For they provide a much easier subject to discuss than things like love.