@culinarystrategist . a surprise gift for you!
Despite not being the usual target audience for chick flicks, Aranea had sat through enough of these movies when she was younger to know the clichés – how supposedly your heart would sing like a bird when you first kissed the man of your dreams; how one would hear the bells tolling in the distance as if announcing the future wedding. She had always scoffed at these ideas – romance? In a world like the one she knew? She would rather die free than be caged and it applied to any sort of relationship.
Like the dragon she carried on her back, she was terribly fond of freedom, of making her own choices and forging her own destiny. It had thrown Aranea into the hands of less than benign men, of course – but life had prepared her enough for these moments. After all, she always said that one didn’t make it alive out of Niflheim by being soft and caring – the empire saw to that and gave her the rough edges that her armor would merely replicate years later.
But she wasn’t made of ice – rather the opposite. The dragoon was a powerful mix of everything that was beautiful and yet out of control: a thunderstorm, a raging wild fire, a tornado. Aranea Highwind was an irresistible force – and Ignis Scientia was her immovable object.
The clash of their weapons against each other marked their first encounter; he had been the obvious strategist of the party, given how the pretty prince screamed for directions and he often seemed capable of guessing her weaknesses. Aranea thought he was just a scholar playing with daggers, way out of his depth – but the way he parried and fought back showed her she was the one in the wrong. Such a fiery devotion in green eyes – such an intensity that clearly told her she wasn’t going to win. Not that time.
That made an impression on her. Upon their next encounters, he further imprinted himself into her memories by showing her the kindness and care she had never experienced firsthand in Niflheim. She was an ally – one worthy of sharing their meals and getting assistance if needed in the battlefield. Ignis personified everything she had deemed to be obsolete and futile – strategy, compassion, responsibility. They couldn’t be more different about their perspectives for life if they tried. Hell, they started it all on opposite sides of the same war.
And yet, somehow, it was for Ignis that she felt herself falling – and if Aranea tried it hard enough, she could trace it all to the exact moment she realized it all: in a world where darkness was all they had and the blue flames of a haven illuminated his permanently scarred face, she knew she loved him. And it was all thanks to the fire he had within.
Ignis had almost given up – blind, robbed of his skill, left out of the most dangerous assignments by his peers due to more pressing matters. And Aranea was the one who found herself teaching him, yelling at him and slapping sense into Ignis when he seemed to be about to call it quits. People often told her she had done a good job in restoring Ignis to his former fighting glory – but she was the first one to brush these remarks aside.
Ignis had done it all. He had rekindled the fire by himself – she had merely helped with a bit of gasoline. But no matter how much fuel she had drenched Ignis in, nothing would ever happen without some sort of spark – and it all exploded when she kissed him one day, fully on the lips, holding onto him like she was drowning he was all the fresh air she needed to survive.
The tension that had surrounded them for so long snapped, like a thread which no longer could be pulled apart. Ignis was like a summer rain to her fire, the hopeful sunshine after a destructive tornado, the calm sea after the storm. Everything in her seemed to come full circle and become meaningful – as if her entire life had somehow led her to that exact moment in his arms, kissing Ignis under a starless night and with the haven fire for light. The way his hands found her waist and pulled her closer felt heavenly, and their shared breath was music to her ears.
“I have loved you for a long, long time Aranea,” his voice was shaky, tainted by raw emotion; but it was firm and genuine, and the woman felt overwhelmed by the intensity of it all – it was like being hit by the aftermath of shock waves, or placed in the middle of the biggest explosion of all time.
It felt like home.
“You shattered my world, Ignis,” she said with a small chuckle, letting him wipe away the single tear that fell from her eyes, “And I fucking love you for it.”
