#fellincantation

[exclted]

wyrmslaying

cont. from here // @fellincantation​

Grima is nearly just as tense. Those sent out on their mission a month before were finally returning and with them came those Grima was deeply familiar with. There was a sick amusement trilling inside of her as she waited. She didn't have to wait very long. Lucina's voice was firm and her tone harsh when Grima heard it. Though the dragon didn't turn just yet. Instead, she let her arms slowly rest down at her sides, palms facing Lucina. She was unarmed physically.

"It's been such a long time, Lucina," Grima said her tone as kind as ever. She almost sounded like she was regarding Lucina fondly though they both knew the truth of the matter. "I've been looking for you and your family for some time now. I've missed you all dearly."

Grima slowly turned to look at Lucina as she spoke. There was a sharp malice in her gaze but her expression didn't waver from the kind smile on it. How long had it been since she'd last seen her? How many times had Grima come back to torment her? They both knew it was a countless number of times and would never end so long as the time continued to exist.

"While you were gone your cousin came to greet me. Oberon's always been such a friendly person." She said. Everything she said was careful and calculated. Letting Lucina know she'd been there entirely undetected thus far even by her own family. "I haven't had the chance to say hello to Chrom. Where is he?"

With that, Grima's smile twisted. The malice in her stare shifted to the rest of her expression with an unsettling finality. Her words were a threat, a promise, and a reminder. Things would play out the same because fate was at Grima's command.

Her blood runs cold. The threat is thinly veiled, but she would see it clearly even without. 

They say every war is fought twice -- first in blood and second in memory. Lucina has seen this one twice just in the former, has seen both of its beginnings and both of its ends, and now she stares down a face that threatens a third.

“You lied to him?” Naga save Owain. For all of his claims of brilliance, he most certainly could use a touch more intuition. Really, she had left him alone for only a handful of days, and yet somehow he had gone and fallen for a poorly disguised Grima.

Lucina shakes her head. That can be set straight later. “Even if I knew my father’s whereabouts, I would sooner meet the end of his own blade than tell them to you.” 

Another suddenly very pressing matter. She would need to find Chrom before Grima could -- perhaps go so far as to instate herself as his personal guard. It has been a good few years since last she spent the better part of her days lingering around a younger version of the man she sold her life to save, watching for any potential threat. It would be easy to slip back into old routine...

Fingers twitch. How terribly she longs for her sword, for a far more pressing threat. She’s sure that Grima remembers its blade well.

“It would serve you well to remember my strength,” her voice is low. A threat of her own, though she does not deign to conceal it with a false kindness. “I will not hesitate to end you a second time, even a third. As many as it takes to keep this world safe.”

[atypicalsenerio]

The Tacticians Are Fightinnnnng [Grima & Soren]

Starter for @fellincantation

Soren preferred to be left alone in his room, but some things couldn’t be done in a dorm. One instance of his dog knocking over a tactical game board and then trying to eat the pieces was enough to convince him to lay out his expansive maps in the library or spare classroom.

The public areas of the monastery had their own perils: socialization.

He bent over his map with carefully drawn terrain and tokens representing three sides of a conflict, eyes narrowed with focus. The back of his neck tingled. Soren raised his head, scowling. How long had she been staring at him?

Whoever this lady was, he got a peculiar feeling emanating from her. Dislike and distrust on sight were practically Soren’s defaults, but this was worse.

“What do you want?” His mind raced, trying to place why anyone would approach him. The map was a good enough start. It was likely either related that or magical inqueries.

“If it’s advice, I have some. Get lost.”

[melusinezephyr]

Consider This as My Goodbye

starter for @fellincantation

The academy is dull, quiet and devoid of the life she'd had before. There is no Marni around to gush about what girlish things she could indulge in. There is no Griss to dote over and talk about magic for hours with. There is no Mauvier to tease. She has no family here.

Or that is what she had thought, until the first day she had walked into the classroom, hair and skirt trailing behind her as she swept her way to the front of the room. Her eyes breeze over the room, crimson catching crimson suddenly.

That girl... she... has the same aura as Lord Sombron! A Fell Dragon... Zephia had never figured that there was others left in the world besides Lord Sombron and Lady Veyle. And that infernal Divine Dragon, though they weren't so much Fell anymore.

As soon as she is done acting out her boring little life, the part she plays, she knows that she must rush to that girl, to know who she is, what she is doing here.

And rush she does, as fast as she only had for Lord Sombron before. Well, today was a special occasion either way! Even if this girl had no relation to her lord, there was still other Fell Dragons out there, there was perhaps a way for Zephia to have... Perhaps it was a different version of her dream, but it was a Fell Dragon's love all the same. She still served no other lord besides Sombron, but that didn't mean she couldn't take this girl into her arms as if she had been her mother, as if she was the Fell Dragon child she had always wanted to love.

"Dear, may I talk to you for a moment? There's something that is... very tantalizing about your aura. I can't help but be fascinated by it. You are my student, but that does not mean that we cannot be friends. And worry not, I fear no Fell Dragon. In fact, it would only make me all the more happier if you truly are one."

[anankelotus]

🐟 "Ha! You look ridiculous. Perhaps this form better suits you. You won't drown in tears as a fish." Big words coming from such a small worm.

send a fish for april fools! (still accepting)

Like you have any room to talk, Grima. You are a snake. I highly doubt that you can take down humanity like that, I'm sorry. He pouts inside Edward's pocket, the most glare a fish can manage pointed at Grima.

Perhaps this is a punishment for both of us.

[artificidel]

"Ephidel. I've been told it's normal for humans to bring bonds closer through combat," Grima said, approaching them with a confident stride. She seemed to be in good spirits. "What do you think? Would it be worth trying out ourselves? Perhaps it will bring us closer."

Grima seemed keen on the idea. Ephidel was an interesting enough person and she did feel a sort of kinship with them. Despite the uncertainty on how they would take it, she wished to try regardless.

"There is hardly any harm in it, right?" She continued, taking a moment to think. "I wouldn't want to actually hurt you though... Not in a way that lasted. There are none other like you that I've had the fortune of meeting. It would be a shame if something significant happened to you."

Before, much of Ephidel's time was spent observing humans. Studying them, using them, but there was always Valor to return to.

There was a peace in the silence of the Dread Isle, Lord Nergal the only human amongst his army of creations. Ephidel knew himself to be higher than near all of them, favored by his master. But now, having lived with humans so long, the silence in the souls of the hollow was something he never thought he'd miss.

Denning was here now, and that was a small comfort, but it was doomed by Ephidel's own arrogance. He could not go to his elder kin after shunning them and thinking it below him for so long.

But there was another, one he could live with on an even level.

The morph blinked at Grima's proposal. He had indeed witnessed humans spar together as a means of recreation and bonding, but had never quite understood it. What joy was there in harming each other?

Still, he was willing to listen, and what he heard settled warmly in his chest and reflected light brightly in his eyes.

He had never acted for her hand, not a tool for her commands, yet still she saw value in him? Saw something in his emptiness? Though, perhaps that is exactly what she saw. He certainly valued the same in her.

Ephidel summoned a weak gale in his palm, forming a crystalline snowflake; beautiful and unique, just as her.

"I feel the similarly, and would be willing to try."

[allegreta]

A bouquet of yellow roses were left on Leanne's doorstep to be discovered after some frantic and frankly harsh knocking on her door. There was a note accompanying the flowers and it read as follows: "Hello, Leanne. I appreciated our last conversation at the library and heard it was your birthday today. Happy birthday. - Robin."

Leanne is a little distracted as she attempts to study for the upcoming Faith exam. She cannot shake that there is something she is forgetting, but it simply will not come to her, so instead she stares intently at her notes, memorizing the differences between Valentian and Archanean healing magics.

An intent knock on her door disturbs her focus, a sudden burst of emotion quickly retreating in distance. By the time she opens the door, the culprit is long gone--but in their place, there is a beautiful bouquet of yellow roses, almost matching Leanne's hair. What a thoughtful gift!

...oh. Oh. According to the Fodlan calendar, today would be her birthday, would it not? Birthdays are a lot less important to laguz than beorc, but they're still a lovely excuse for festivities and to celebrate the person whose anniversary of birth it is!

Indeed, the note left alongside the flowers wishes Leanne a happy birthday, and is from her dear new friend, Robin! She had been worried their conversation was a bit overwhelming for an initiation of friendship, but they had very much gotten along, so this gesture is quite wonderful!

Leanne carefully places the roses by her window, reading over the note once more. Robin's handwriting is neat, tight cursive that loops in a pleasing manner, and she clearly put thought into this gift. Smiling, Leanne folds the paper and places it into a folder alongside other letters she has received from people she cares for.

It is still early morning--perhaps she can seek out Robin, and ask if she wishes to do something for Leanne's birthday! Though maybe that is a little much, if Robin did not want to give the gift directly. Tomorrow, she resolves, she will seek the dragon out and see if she would like to study together again, or perhaps even share a cup of tea!

[exclted]

˚ · . @fellincantation asked:

"Happy birthday, little Lucina," Grima said, approaching Lucina in a lonely corridor of the school with her hands showing. In one hand she held what appeared to be a thin box. "I have a gift for you."

Grima didn't doubt that Lucina might just throw the box away completely without opening it. So Grima opened it herself and turned the small box toward Lucina for her to look at it. Inside the box sat a silver necklace with an intricate-looking charm held on the chain. The charm looked to be a small recreation of a dragon wrapped around a blue gem. Inside the gem rested the Brand of the Exalt. The chain itself wasn't anything special, all of the important detailing rested in the charm.

"If you're worried about it being cursed, don't be. I'm far above cursing a worthless trinket." Grima added, waving her free hand passively. She insistently held out the box in her hand, waiting for Lucina to take it. Grima wasn't entirely sure what compelled her to bring Lucina such a gift. Perhaps it was to remind her of family. Of what was important to her as just another cruelty that Grima could take away at any moment. Though to Grima, Lucina was more than her legacy. Far more and that was more irritating than Grima would ever admit.

"Ah... And one other thing." Grima said, reaching into her coat. After a moment, she pulled out a book. Then she held it out to the girl, sniffing once as she did. "I have no need for that fool Robin's memories. Take it. Perhaps the recollections of this fool's life during the first war will be of use to you in the future."

Truth be told, Grima didn't care. She was sure a version of her own children had the book from the future. How many copies could Grima create by just passing it around? It wasn't as if Grima hadn't already penned another copy to keep for herself.

"It makes our game more fun, doesn't it?"

To say the glance she spare Grima is apprehensive would be an understatement. Eyes shift from the offered box to the false visage of her old friend, calculating.

But her company acts first, and Lucina finds herself stunned silent.

It's such a simple thing, this gift. A pendant, a silver chain, the mark of her father nestled so carefully in the box's velvet lining. For a moment, she is convinced that perhaps this is still a dream.

"You..." The gift is accepted into her hand, stared blankly upon for a moment longer. Were she allowed the time to do so, she might just stand here in her shock until evening. A gift, let alone an innocent one, from the very being that had taken everything else from her.

A cruel joke, perhaps.

Emotions stick in Lucina's throat, uncomfortable, unsure--a thousand thoughts, a million questions, each begging to be spoken louder than the last--but nothing comes.

Not before another gift is thrust into her hands. It's something she recognizes instantly--the dingy leather, the worn binding, the carefully etched R in the bottom corner. Something warm pricks the backs of Lucina's eyes, her jaw clenching.

Words of thanks begin to form on her tongue, gratitude ready to be spoken despite it all. And once more, they are interrupted.

Eyes dart upward, landing upon the smiling face of a woman she had once sold her life to see again. Lips press into a line, unshed tears beading in the corners of her vision.

"Fun," her echo isn't harsh or angry but rather dull, distant, considering. She has been angry for enough of her life. In this moment, all Lucina does is accept. "I suppose so."

Only when Grima has turned does she murmur a quiet 'thank you.'