Summary: It is time for the Ordinary Wizarding Levels examinations at Hogwarts, but for Y/n it is hard to focus considering everything that`s going on. On the night of her practical Astronomy examination, Umbridge crosses a last treshold, to everyones horror.
Pairings: Fred Weasley x Reader, Cedric Diggory x Reader, Draco Malfoy x Reade x Reader / Yes I know, so many ships but still, this takes place over a few years so I think it`s fair.
You started the first week of your ordinary wizarding levels examinations with great difficulty. You had so much going on in your head that you could hardly focus, and to top it all off, you were sure you had hurt Fred`s feeling by declining to meet up with him, claiming you were oh so busy with all the studying and preparations. In reality this was all just an excuse, as you had been terrified by just the idea of leaving the castle ever since you had your last encounter with the mercenary. The flower moon had passed but you were still afraid of what was lurking out there. At this rate you imagined yourself to get more agoraphobic than Professor Trelawney by the minute.
By Thursday evening, it seemed the examination you had proven yourself best in was Defence against the Dark Arts, both written and practical. Something that might`ve surprised Umbridge given how unenthusiastic you and your friends had been about her lessons, had it not been for the fact that she knew very well of the DA activities you had all been meticulously performing until you were caught. It felt good how she had to give you all good grades despite it all, and you were sure it really bothered her how you all had gotten away with it.
The second week kicked off with potions, you had studied quite hard for this in case your nerves would get the best of you. Unfortunately it did, the moment you came to notice that Professor Snape would not even look at you, let alone acknowledge your presence in the dungeons. It was ominous and strange given how he had been your guardian for the first few years you had spent at Hogwarts. There had never been anything fatherly about him at all, but you had spent a lot of time with him. From holidays to the dreadful summer you had to spend at Spinner`s end.
Tuesday meant time for the Care of magical creatures practical examination, you did not like to admit it but it was a subject, apart from a few occasions, that you had found to be dreadful. This time perhaps more so because it meant you had to leave the castle. While it seemed improbable for a mercenary or a werewolf sent by the crazed Lestrange woman to attack you in the middle of the day, in front of everyone, you still could not let your guard down even for a moment.
By Wednesday you were feeling completely drained of all will and energy to study even a page further. It was time for your astronomy and divination examinations, the theory of astronomy in the morning, divination in the afternoon and practical astronomy at night. It seemed quite ridiculous how it was still expected of you to show up prepared for the History of magic exam the next morning. Even Hermione seemed to be on the edge of a nervous breakdown, which was not a good sign for the rest of you and the other less diligent students.
It was a bright night with a clear view of the waxing crescent moon and stars from the astronomy tower where you had all gathered with your telescopes and celestial charts. The air was cold and crisp, a refreshing change to the unusually warm weather you had faced the last week. Despite everything you actually thought your examination went rather well, that was until you were all distracted by some commotion taking place down on the school grounds below.
You looked away from your telescope to see what was going on, as all the other students were pointing or shouting. Down on the grounds outside Hagrid`s hut you could make out six figures, surrounding the considerably larger one belonging to Hagrid. Tiny threads of red light were shooting out of their wands, lightening up the darkness of the area around them.
“What are they doing?”
“They`re trying to stun him!”
They did not seem to succeed however, perhaps due to his size stunning him was easier said than done. The spell seemed to simply bounce right of him. He seemed furious, and the shouts of the skirmish only grew louder as they seemed to have stun his dog, Fang.
“COWARDS! RUDDY COWARDS! – HAVE SOME O`THAT – AN`THAT!”
As the Astronomy Professor Tofty pointed out there was only 16 minutes left of the examination, everyone was far more caught up in the commotion as another figure ran towards the scene. Professor McGonagall. The brief relief you had felt at the sight of her coming to the rescue, vanished the moment the six attackers turned around and shot nothing less than four stunning spells straight at her, without any provocation. You all screamed in horror as she fell to the ground.
“GALLOPING GORGONS!” Professor Tofty exclaimed, hands to her face.
“Not so much as a warning! What outrageous behaviour!”
This only infuriated Hagrid even more, taking two swipes at his closest attackers. Before he slung Fang over his shoulder and made a break for the boundary gates. The remainder of Umbridge`s ministry goons were too afraid to step in his way.
After the events of midnight there was an uproar in Gryffindor tower which refused to die down. Umbridge had crossed one final threshold, she could not get away with this. It was only a miracle Professor McGonagall was not killed, even less than four stunning spells to the heart could take out even the most youthful witch or wizard. And as McGonagall was the deputy headmistress, she had really been the one last thing standing in the way for Umbridge to seize complete controll over Hogwarts. Now that she was away for treatment at St.Mungo`s all hell could break loose at last.
By noon it was time for your dreaded History of magic exams, even though none of you had gotten any sleep. An hour into writing your assignment your hand was already hurting with the harsh sweaty grip of the feathered quill. Your focus drifting away like clouds, you were struggling just to keep awake with the monotonous sounds created by the frantic scribbling on parchments around the room. Looking around the room you could see Hermione scribbling away as if her hand were mechanic, Ron meanwhile was rubbing his eyes, yawning. And Harry, he was gazing into the air palely, with a horrified look on his face before he immediately stood up. His desk almost toppling over by the suddenness.
The Professor did not even seem to notice when the trio slipped outside, Hermione of course hurriedly delivering her exam before she left. You remained there in the classroom, unsure whether you should join them or not. You did already have plenty of problems to deal with on your own, did you really need to involve yourself in someone else’s too?
Nothing less than half an hour later, you delivered your exam too, seeing as there was nothing else you could add or do to improve your result, which were already lower than usual thanks to the severe lack of sleep. You hurried to Gryffindor tower, hoping to catch up on what was going on with Hermione. Even if you were occupied with your own worries, it had recently been quite noticeable that Hermione was dealing with something too, even if she insisted all was fine.
When you entered the common room through the portrait hole, you heard intense discussion from the trio inside.
“-He knows you`re the – the sort of person who`d go to Sirius`s aid! What if he`s just trying to get you into the department of myst-“
“Hermione, it does not matter if he`s done it to get me there or not – they`ve taken McGonagall to St.Mungo`s, there isn’t anyone from the order left at Hogwarts who we can tell, and if we don`t go, Sirius is dead!”
When you stepped into view they immediately stopped talking, Harry could not visibly hide his suspicion of you at this time, and you could understand why perfectly well. You were you-know-who`s daughter after all, for all he knew you could very well have something to do with it. When no one said anything you did,
“I want to help”
While Harry, Ron and Hermione stormed off to Umbridge`s office, you set out to find Ginny and the others. You needed to create some sort of distraction, not only for Umbridge but for her inquisitorial squad as well. For the first time in quite a while you came to remember just how useful your Veela magic could be in situations like this. Just by taking flight through the halls, you had already successfully drawn everyones attention onto yourself. Among them some pesky slytherins, warning you that just as running was prohibited your flying was too.
You soared above them all, until you found Ginny, Luna and Neville explaining it all to them in a hurry. Then you split up again, set out to create diversions at different places in the castle. Whilst flying about you jinxed every Inquisitorial member you came across to the loud amusing cheers of other students.
“Melofors!”
“Furnunculus!”
“Ebulio!”
While zooming across the corridor your flight suddenly came to a halt when someone grabbed your ankle, which resulted in you both falling to the ground. Turning around while rubbing the back of your head you saw it was that spiteful slytherin girl, Pansy Parkinson grinning at you with small eyes.
“Seemed like you needed some help getting your feet back on the ground” she laughed,
“I can`t wait to deliver you to Umbridge myself, do you think she`ll let me choose what word to carve into your hand this time?”
Looking around you, you saw a glimpse of Ginny and Luna dragged along towards her office by Gregory Goyle and Milicent Bulstrode. The distraction did not last that long at all, you could only hope that Harry had managed to get in contact with Grimmauld place in time.
“I can`t decide on what word to pick though, which do you prefer? Half-breed or freak?”
Before she could smirk even a second longer about her choice in words you raised your wand at her, which quickly made her grip onto her own.
“You`ll regret that you little worm” you spat out as the duel began,
“Colloshoo!” she shouted, but you blocked the stickfast hex before it could even touch you.
“Vermiculus!” the yellow light from your jinx hit her straight in her shocked face, and with immediate effect Pansy Parkinson was transformed into, well, a little worm. Wriggling on the ground helplessly.
You did not have much time to rejoice over your brilliant spellwork for long however, before someone grabbed you from behind. It was Graham Montague, who had back in April been pushed into a vanishing cabinet by Fred and George when he had tried to unfairly dock house points from them. He had apparated out the next day, into a toilet at the fourth floor. He was disoriented for weeks afterwards and had only recently recovered from the event.
“Well if it isn’t Weasley`s half-breed girlfriend” he laughed cruelly, while bending your arm harshly behind your back to the point where you almost buckled from the pain. Montague was quite large and brawny, he was known for his dirty tactics during Quidditch and he once almost knocked Katie Bell of her broom.
“What? You`re going to make yourself feel big again by taking it out on me now that Fred isn`t around?” you spat out, while trying to wriggle your way out of his strong grip.
“Pathetic!”
“Shut up you filthy little half-breed!” he shouted, whilst pulling your arm even further. He quickly chanted an anti-jinx for Pansy, returning her back into her usual worm-less appearance, but quite disoriented.
“Snap the bones in her little wand-arm” a humiliated Pansy commanded through gritted teeth angrily, “I`m sure Professor Umbridge won`t mind”
Montague seemed to find the suggestion to be a rather good idea, and he was about to get into it just when someone else appeared in the corridor.
“There you are” Draco said, looking rather unfaced.
“We`re to gather them all up in Umbridge`s office”
When Montague did not move right away, Draco immediately changed his demeanour,
“Are you deaf?!, I said right now!”
While Montague and Pansy seemed frightened, they immediately grabbed each of your arms and lead you towards the office as Draco had demanded. His eyes briefly meeting yours, nervously.
Summary: Even after years of separation, a good boy named King recognized the smell of Theo’s other Hondje.
Warning(s): None! (Well, technically there’s a tad bit of angst... but it gets fluffy at the end I promise)
Note: This idea slapped me across the face so hard and unexpectedly that I dropped everything just to write the overall idea (because I’m forbidding myself to lose this).
Also, for the sake of this one-shot, King has an extended life too.
Note a few days after initial idea: Might as well turn this into a piece for the Theo Countdown Party. If anything, it aligns nicely with a day that I don’t have a work for a different writing challenge I’m doing (that would be day 5 of Creatober 2020)
~~~
The constant tug of King’s leash kept Theo on his toes, the golden retriever much more hyper on his walk today compared to any other. Leaves of many colours crunched beneath them as they strolled through the streets of 21st century Paris, the sights and sounds both different and similar to the old, 19th century version they were so use to.
As of right now he has everything he could ever wish for, his older brother, Vincent, his not-friend friend Arthur and his job as an art dealer. To most, it was a win-win all around the table when you have family, friends and a job.
Except it wasn’t, far from it actually. Theo didn’t have her - the dumb knabbeltje that stole his heart forever ago and yet still decided to part from his side.
In retrospect, he had no one to blame but himself. If he wanted her to stay he should’ve admitted the feelings that had blossomed during that singular month with her, it would’ve given her a reason not go through that damn time traveling door.
So why the hell didn’t he? Was he actually afraid of rejection?
Another yank from the dog at his hip, his tail wagging happily as he tried to run through a nearby park. Deep sea blue eyes trailed the path his dog wanted to go.
Discovering that it was the usual path that his pup always took when they walked on this road, Theo idly followed King. Without fail the golden retriever always brought him to the entrance of a famous museum - Le Louvre. He never did understand why King came to this particular spot, sniffed and then whined, apparently not finding what he was looking for.
In all honestly Theo would love to browse fine art with his lovable companion, yet unfortunately the museum denied entry to pets.
Sighing deeply the Dutch man crouches to the ground, scratching behind King’s floppy ear.
“Sorry boy, you can’t go in there” the dog tilted it’s head, tongue lolling out before unexpectedly making a beeline for the entrance, knocking Theo to the ground and allowing the leash to slip from his grasp.
Scrambling to his knees, the vampire was just able to witness King rush into the building before disappearing.
“Ah shit...”
~
Inside, the atmosphere was quiet and calm, like it always is. Many leisurely walked around, stopping whenever a particular art piece caught their eye.
For her though, the painting she gazed at wasn’t because of what it looked like but rather who painted it. Leonardo di ser Piero da Vinci.
The Italian man’s name alone opened a whole casket of memories from a few years prior. The time she spent with some of histories greatest figures, where a bond quickly turned from nothing to gold.
Especially with him.
Theodorus van Gogh. He had a larger part of her heart occupied, something more than any of the others would ever get a glimpse of. The rare kindness he showed his friends, the unexpected sweet tooth he possessed (which honestly could border on unhealthy sometimes), the roundabout way he complimented those around him.
And his smile. Oh his smile could melt the coldest of hearts and was even rarer than his kindness. Not his usual, devilish smirk, no, a genuine smile. Something only she got to see the night before she left.
“I’m gonna miss you Hondje”
All these qualities of his left her heart thundering loudly.
“I miss you Theo, every bit of you...” she muttered, intending to hold onto every precious moment she'd shared with him for the rest of her life.
The watch she wore read 5:45PM and she turned to leave the museum, ready to go home for the evening. No doubt will she visit this place tomorrow, the sentiment behind the location strong enough to come back again.
Just as she made it out of the museum the sound of rushing steps bounding towards her caught her attention, a furry friend jumping up and down and barking loudly at her feet in the next second, the owner not far behind.
“Down boy!” he commanded, grabbing hold of the dog’s collar, pulling him down. Swallowing some much needed air, Theo looked up with the intent to apologize for the sudden attack on them when every word died in his throat.
Her name uttered from his lips breathlessly, and her eyes widened, realizing who it was.
“Is it really you Hondje?” he asked, hand coming up to cup her cheek, his touch the most gentle it has ever been. Was he truly able to see her again after centuries of waiting?
“Yeah... yeah it’s me...” she smiled, placing a hand on his chest and another over his larger one.
For the next few heart racing moments the two simply stared into each other’s eyes, it being the only thing they could bring themselves to do, too stunned at the reality right in front of them.
Neither knew who started to inch closer first, perhaps it was a mutual move. Still, the fact stood that after so long their feelings for each other were finally being shown through a slow, passion filled kiss.
Let this be real... please... It was their desperate plea to any god that would listen.
When the need for air grew hard to resist, the pair parted, panting slightly. Bringing his free arm around her waist, Theo tugged the woman of his dreams closer, leaning his forehead against her’s.
“Never leave my side again, got it Hondje?” Despite the underlying harshness in his tone, his eyes portrayed a whole different, stronger, emotion. Love.
“I promise Theo”
Two simple words with the sound of his name and that soft smile he revealed to her before appeared again.
And it certainly wasn’t going to be for the last time as long as he stayed with her, something he planned to do until the day he died.
~
I hope you enjoyed this! First time writing Theo and I don’t think I did too bad!
I couldn’t contain my excitement, so I decided to put this up a day early. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.
Trigger Warnings: Violence against kikimores, and semi-descriptive injuries
Chapter 1: The Kikimore Contract
He'd been in the swamps since dawn. He'd tossed a coin to the ferryman who'd brought him across the water to the swamp that laid on the outskirts of Vizima. The royal guard had put a contract on a Kikimore that was killing townsfolk. The monster was inhabiting a cave that held mushrooms Vizima's citizens liked to collect.
Eskel had found himself trekking through bogs to find the hidden cave the kikimore occupied. He knelt by a fire, busying himself with bombs and potions. There was very little he could do against a queen Kikimore, which he expected was tucked away safely in her cave. Aard would work against the smaller kikimore workers, but the warriors would also be a pain to deal with.
He set to work brewing insectoid oil. He would need a lot of it to take care of the nest. He brewed several batches of swallow, white honey and White Raffard's Decoction. If potions would do little against the Kikimore queen, healing potions may at least keep him alive long enough to drag himself back to the sorceress's doorstep. She could at least patch him up enough to keep him alive.
He shook the thought away. He couldn't afford any distractions right now.
The silver blade slid from its sheath with a soft shwink. He popped the cork of the insectoid oil and generously coated the blade. He didn't know when there would be a break long enough for him to recoat the blade, so he hoped that this would do until then.
He made his way through the swamps, his senses on high alert. There were several corpses he passed that had been picked clean by the kikimores.
His ears picked up the tud da tud da tud of spindly legs on the spongy earth. He was quick to cast quen throwing out a golden orb. The sharp legs of the kikimore warrior shattered the shield. Eskel was quick to roll to the side of the beast. Slashing out his silver blade he heard a monstrous screech, which he knew would cause the workers to join the fight.
Vesemir's voice echoed in his head. Always keep moving. A moving target is harder to hit. He threw out Aard knocking a smaller kikimore to the ground. He was quick to deal the killing blow, and leapt out of the way just in time for the larger kikimore to take another swipe at him.
He could recall Lambert saying heavy attacks were best used on Kikimores, and he was in an open mindset considering the turmoil that was going on around him that he decided to see if there was any truth to the younger Witcher's statement.
The only problem he realized a second too late, was that heavy attacks tend to slow one down. He felt his flesh tear open as a razor sharp leg swiped at him.
His blow landed in the kikimore's throat, and it stilled. He pulled the silver blade from its mouth, quickly casting Aard as he spun. Three more kikimore workers were knocked on their backs, and he was quick to slay them.
He downed some swallow, and with shaking hands he poured more insectoid oil over his blade. He knew the cut would start stinging and aching once the adrenaline wore off. He only hoped that the potion could numb the pain and start the process of healing.
He collected the few monster parts he needed before continuing towards the cave. He knew there would be at least one more warrior patrolling the swamp, and who knew what lied in the cave.
He cast quen once more, in the event he was taken by surprise. He couldn't have cast it soon enough when he felt the pressure on the back of his calf, and his shield shattered once more. He took a few quick swings at the kikimore dispersing it. He threw Aard a couple more times as a few other smaller kikimores attacked.
He was dousing the blade in more insecticide oil when two kikimore warriors crested the hill. He let out an audible "fuck," as they approached.
He rocked to the balls of his feet. Agility was easier when he wasn't caught flat footed. He threw out Quen for good measure, and readied himself for the first strike.
Both kikimore's threw their legs up in an attempt to impale him. He tucked into a quick roll slashing upwards as he came to his feet. He sidestepped to miss the kikimore's back legs and sent a heavy blow crippling it in the back. He was quick to dodge the other kikimore, but one of the many razor sharp shell teeth left a shallow slice across his thigh.
With a few more strokes of his sword both beasts were dead. He inspected the wound as he caught his breath. The blood loss seemed to be minor, and the wound he acquired earlier seemed to be seeping blood. His jacket was ruined with soaked blood. By the looks of it, the cut had bled like a bitch.
He downed white honey to clear out the toxins surging through him. He then threw back some more swallow. He inspected the mouth of the cave as he pulled out the one bottle of brown oil he carried. He hadn't bothered brewing another bottle, because he wouldn't have the time to reapply it once he was in the middle of the fight. He set to work coating his blade once more. He moved his bombs to his chest. It was unlikely they would do much damage, but it may slow the queen down enough for him to get a strike or two in.
He didn't have much of a plan for fighting the beast. All he could do is throw quen signs, try to get an occasional hit in, and run like hell. One swipe from the queen could be lethal even for a mutant like him.
He took a deep breath as he popped the cork of a cat potion. The potion smelt vile, and it would burn going down. He didn't think on it anymore as he downed the contents. He'd learnt the longer he thought of a potion, the harder it always went down.
He felt his vision alter. His eyes fluttered irritated at the sudden change of light. He let his eyes adjust a moment, before stepping into the mouth of the cave.
Eskel's eyes darted around the tunnel. He could make out silhouettes of stalagmites hanging from the walls. Cat was a useful potion, but Eskel hated when the color was drained from the world and the small details taken away. He had to rely heavily on his hearing, and hope the potion lasted through the fight.
The tunnel sloped down into a wide cavern. Eskel could see a massive spindly silhouette tucked in the corner. He couldn't deny it looked more terrifying in the dark then in broad daylight. It was moments like this that he was thankful for the mutations. The healthy dose of fear that should be pumping through his veins was silenced. Instead he felt a primal need to kill.
He cast quen as he slowly approached the kikimore. He decided on a heavy blow while he had the chance. If he could sneak up on the monster and weaken it, perhaps the rest of the fight would turn in his favor.
He drove the silver blade down as deep as he could go. He felt his shield shatter as he was thrown back. He found himself slow to get up when he landed. Half heartedly he chucked a bomb in the direction he assumed the kikimore was in. He heard a screech as he finally got to his feet. He signed quen and took off running. He could hear the tud da tud da tud behind him, as her spindly legs brought her closer to him. He dove to the side bringing his sword up with a swipe landing another blow on it's leg. He felt his shield shatter, and acid spewed on his thigh. "Shit." He cursed stabbing the small kikimore, before slaying its companion. He signed quen again before hucking another bomb at the queen. He hadn't time to drink any white honey as he dove out of the way from a blow from the queen.
The queen was weakening, and his thigh was burning. A heavy blow or two would finish her off. He cut quick to the side, and brought the silver sweeping across her legs. Black blood poured from the missing limbs, and she released a vile spit of acid. Quen absorbed most of the toxin, in the process of it shattering some spewed across his chest. Eskel was quick to deal the finishing blow. He sent silver straight through her armored skull. The kikimore gave a violent shudder and finally laid still.
Acidic fumes from his wounds clouded his vision, leaving him gulping for air as the bile rose up his throat. He found himself vomiting into the sand. Tears were leaking out of his burning eyes as he popped the cork on the square vile. Eskel downed the contents of the white honey feeling some of the pain ease. His tearducts opened as they flushed the acidic fumes from his eyes. He wiped at the tear tracks on his cheeks. His chest and thigh felt like hamburger from the acid eating away at his skin.
Dragging himself to his feet he pulled out a torch to see. The cat potion leaving his system as the white honey did its work. He quickly set to work destroying the eggs.. He limped out of the cave. Twilight was fast approaching, and he was in no state to be caught in the swamps at night.
*
**
She awoke to a pounding on her door. Her dog lept up with a yelp at the intruder at the door. It had been days since she'd last seen the dark haired Witcher. She assumed he'd gone on to the next town in search of contracts and coin. Which is why she was startled to find him leaning against her threshold, looking like he was on death's door.
"Witcher!" She gasped instinctively reaching out to the man to steady him. What she wasn't expecting was for the towering man to practically land in her arms. "Oof," she grunted, digging her heels in to support him. "Let's get you up the stairs." She said guiding him up the narrow stairway. His hand tried to find some support against the wall as she hefted him up the stairs. The man was barely conscious.
By the smell of him, he'd been in the swamps all day. The Witcher was fighting fatigue, blood loss and pain. He hadn't given much thought past making it to her doorstep. His body finally gave out as he passed out halfway on the bed. She was careful to pull his boots off as she lifted each leg onto the bed.
His pant leg and flesh had been melted away by the acid. She brought her small hands above the wound concentrating on the incantation she recited. Slowly the acid seemed to disappear, and the skin closed up leaving a few new scars in its wake.
She carefully cut away at his pants. Attempting to persevere his modesty best she could. She couldn't risk any traces of acid transferring from his pants to skin. Besides she mused holding up the shredded pants, there was never a hope of mending them anyways. She tossed them on the fire, and the acidic residue engulfed the pants into flames.
She found another fresh scar, a wound she assumed he acquired earlier in the day. When she went on to inspect his wounds she found some more bubbling skin from the acid that was spewed onto his skin. Stripping him of his jacket and shirt she went to work healing the wound. She threw the jacket in a bin of water, and tossed the shirt in the fire as well. Even the witcher couldn't argue that burning the garments was the safest way to dispose of the acid. She quickly went to work healing the wound and tending to other minor cuts.
The bloodied jacket was calling to her from the wash bin when she finally stepped away from him. She grabbed her laundry soap and set to scrubbing the jacket.
She was surprised to find the jacket had been lined with a soft buckskin colored leather. She could only guess at when the last time the jacket had been washed.
In a life that seemed so long ago she had brothers. Brothers who wouldn't have thought to do their laundry or take the occasional bath had her mother not ordered them to do so. Her smile faltered, that had been long ago. Before her father sold her for a pouch of orens to the Aretuza Academy. They had passed many years ago, but heere she was: still young, beautiful, and alone.
She snapped back to reality as she hung the jacket to dry. The Witcher would be out for the rest of the night, so she took her purse and headed to the local armorer. Feeling a bit of guilt at burning the Witcher's clothes, even if it was unavoidable she would replace them.
A gruff voice could be heard behind the wooden door as she knocked. No doubt she'd roused the poor man from his sleep. "What do you want?" The dwarf inquired gruffly.
"I need pants, and a shirt." She made sure to jingle her purse for good measure. The dwarf seemed to perk up at the sound of coin. He nodded, and in a gruff voice said "come in."
"What kind of pants are you wanting?"
"Something leather, and black. A good fit too." She added.
"It'll take me a moment to fashion something in your size lassie." He began before she shook her head.
"It's for a man. A large man, around six foot." She said thoughtfully. "And I want a white shirt. Something soft, but sturdy."
The dwarf raised his eyebrow, "dressing your lover?" A small chuckle escaped his throat. "Woman have to have their hand in everything."
A blush bloomed on her cheeks, "he isn't a lover."
"Ah, but you're blushing like a maiden." The dwarf said with a shake of his head. "Fret not, your secret is safe with me." He pulled out a shirt and pants. "Have him come back if they don't fit right." She thanked the dwarf before handing over the sum, with a little extra.
•
••
•
Exhaustion finally hit as she sat by Eskel's side. She reached out to grab his hand. His large palm felt warm in her hands. Her eyes felt heavy as she laid her head on the edge of the bed. (E/c) eyes slowly fluttering shut.
Iris cursed under her breath, as she made her way through the snowy streets of Ishgard towards Silke’s apartment. The midday was knocking on the door, as the women had finally left the Blacksoul manor. Silke had a day-off, true... but if she had left her apartment already, there would be no way Iris and Eva could find her from the city of size that Ishgard was.
The library, Jeweled Crozier, Second Circle... too many chances. Too many places to go looking from. All Iris could do was hope her friend had slept long, and was still at home. High stiletto heels knocked merrily against the stony walkway, as the two arrived to the apartment building. Silke’s small, lowly flat was located up on the third floor.
“...The heckin’ stairs tend to be slippery at dis time o’ a day, Cinnabun... So watch yer heckin’ steps. I’m not gonna catch ya, if yer to fall and break yer neck, just sayin’.”
Iris looked up at a narrow stairway, leading up on the outer wall of the building, and with a sigh, she gathered up her long, black dress, and started making her way up, Eva following just couple of steps behind her. The morning had been warm, and the ice on the stairs had melted away, making their climb that much easier, and in no time, the two arrived onto Silke’s door.
Iris listened for a moment, trying to hear if anyone was home. The walls were like paper around here anyway, but she couldn’t pick up any noises. A lonely dog was barking somewhere in the distance. The voice was too deep to come out of Silke’s little puppy, Laurence. Giving a quick side-glance towards Eva, Iris knocked onto the door.
“‘Ey! Silkee! Blackbird, yer ‘ome?! It’s mi! Open tha door, mi ass is freezin’ ‘ere!! Silkeee! Darlin’!”
Silke flinched awake when she heard knocking on the door. “It wasn't me I swear!” she yelped stupidly, before realizing she had just been dreaming and she was in fact in her own apartment, alone. She rubbed her eyes and glanced at the clock. It was nearly midday. Cursing silently, Silke flung her blanket aside, stepped into her moogle slippers which had been waiting next to her bed and was already about to dash towards the door. Then she remembered she was wearing only tiny panties and black, short nightgown, which barely reached her buttocks and was made of some thin fabric that showed more than she would've wanted to.
The garment actually belonged to Lareine, or Iris, who had left it behind sometime. Silke had ended up wearing the thing after deciding to be effective and washing all of her laundry at once, before noticing she had mashed her both own nightgowns into washings and thus didn't have anything to wear during the night. Luckily her pink morning gown with brash turquoise carbuncle patterns hadn't been among the laundry, so she grabbed it from the sofa and wrapped it around her while hurrying towards the door. Her long, straight, ash black hair was messy but she couldn't have cared less. The damn thing was so thick and slippery it was a mission impossible to try and keep it braided during the night. She was equally indifferent about her dark circles. If someone hadn't seen dark circles by now then it was about bloody time.
“I'm poor and I'm not buying anything!” she announced at the same moment she flung the door open.
A wide smile spread on Iris’ black lips as her friend opened the door, wearing her silly carbuncle morning gown and the fluffy moogle slippers. Even when not trying to, Silke looked dashing in Iris’ eyes. The mess of a black hair, like that of a demon from eastern tales just enhanced the effect.
“...And Im not sellin’ anythin’, mi star on da night sky!” She stepped up to the woman, wrapping her arms tightly around her, giving her a squeeze, and breathing in the familiar scent of ink and gunpowder... the scent of home.
“...Fockin’ ‘ell, I was afraid ya ‘ad left da buildin’ already! I missed ya, gal!” Iris released her friend, quickly fixing her round glasses, which the hug had tipped on the side, which together with her messy locks, made Silke look bit like she had just survived an explosion. “...I just ‘ave to tell ya everythin’! Ya wont believe whut’s ‘appenin’ back at tha manor... A major shitestorm. I guess... uhh... someone finally dropped a match onto the fockin’ barrel o’ gunpowder dats been sittin’ casually between Grumpy and Lucy... Oh...”
Iris stepped aside, giving some space to Eva, still standing behind her on the narrow stairway. “...Dis is... Evangelin’! I stumbled upon ‘er in tha church, ya know... She was comin’ to look for a goddess, and she found mi instead! Which... in tha end is not too far as a heckin’ outcome, or whut do ya dink? Aniway, we are kinda ‘avin’ a deal... Guess Grumpy is hirin’ her, so she can pay mi for company... ‘Er gal left ‘er to fock ‘round wid sum random lad somewhere, so I’m kinda ‘elpin’ ‘er to fock dat said gal outta ‘er head!”
Then she turned back to Evangeline. “Cinnabun, dis is Silke! Mi heckin’ fallen angel... Isn’t she just dashin’?” A sly smirk played on Iris’ lips, as she glanced towards Eva, before quickly moving her attention back to the viera at the door. “...Ya ‘ave dat tea of yer’s still, darlin’? Guess who’s been almost heckin’ sober for a month!”
Iris was chattering up a storm. Though Evangeline hadn’t known her for long, she knew that this had to be unusual for the sarcastic, abrasive woman she had just met a few days ago. Around everyone else Iris painted over herself a veneer of prickly indifference that kept most, if not all, at arm’s length. Even Arsene, who she seemed to be most accustomed to, or at least the most comfortable with, was still held at quite the distance. This though... this was different. Evangeline couldn’t hope to compare to this. Iris was beaming, ecstatic to see this woman... a jumble of words exiting her mouth at neck-breaking speed.
She was almost tripping over her words trying to tell Silke anything and everything she possibly could. Somewhat dazed, Evangeline inspected Silke as Iris spoke, half-tuning out what the slight viera was saying. The woman in the doorway was undeniably adorable. She was clearly frazzled, having probably just woken up to the sound of someone at her door. She seemed bookish, from a combination of her round glasses which sat slightly askew on her nose, her frame, and what Eva could see of her dwelling... which seemed to be crammed wall-to-wall with literature.
This was about to be a long conversation... a visit between Iris, the woman who had Eva wrapped around her finger, and Silke, the woman with whom Iris seemed to be very much in love. At the thought of the word ‘love’ the little green monster struck at Evangeline’s stomach. Its spines were particularly sharp today... Eva didn’t know how much of this she could take. She tried to hide her pensive expression with a smile, waving slightly to Silke as Iris mentioned her name.
Evangeline watched with mounting horror as Iris kept talking, though... explaining not only everything that had happened after the incident at the church, but also mentioning what exactly had happened during the incident... namely the carnal encounter the two of them had shared, and the fact that Eva was paying for Iris’ company. She supposed it had been foolish to hope that Iris wouldn’t delight in telling every living soul of their arrangement, but it was still painfully embarrassing. She looked at the ground, her face hot to the point that she thought she might be pressing it against an oven. She could barely extract words, but managed to anyways.
“G-good morning... p-pleased to make your acquaintance”, Evangeline was able to squeak, and accompanied it with a modest curtsy, hands gripping tightly at the skirts of her dress. She was unable to bring herself to meet eyes with Silke, instead choosing to inspect the steps upon which she was standing, waiting for her to laugh... or respond... somehow.
Iris let out such a sudden flood of words that at first, Silke, who was still half asleep, couldn't do anything but stare her eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar. She clumsily patted Iris' back while she hugged her.
“Me? Nooo...”, Silke gave a laugh. “If I, for once, get to sleep late, then hells yeah that's what I'm gonna do. I wonder whose voidspawn's ingenious idea it was that everyone should get up while it's still dark? Purely idiotic, if you ask me. Messes up our natural circadian rhythm and probably causes a whole lot of heart attacks and such, geez...”
When Iris started to talk about the drama between Varg and Lucian, Silke couldn't help but lick her lips greedily. She was usually allergic to drama, but that certain one was like straight from some really bad soap opera. Silke had never truly understood people who were too interested in others' business and loved to gossip, but because of this one case she had perhaps started to understand them on some level.
Silke let out a frustrated sound. “You must tell me immediately if something happens, Iris”, she pleaded. “I'm having lots of exams coming up and I'm very very busy, but I'm still willing to halve my cramming time if it means I can witness the outcome. Make your way into my school if you have to, aight? Rather early, so we can grab some popcorn.”
When it was time for Iris' introduction of Evangeline, and description of what they had been doing together, Silke felt an unpleasant sting of jealousy. She had been so absorbed by the delicious news Iris had brought, that she hadn't paid much attention to the other viera until now. Evangeline seemed like complete opposite – at least externally – to Silke. She seemed somewhat older, her body was toned and her face radiated health. Her dark skin and flaming hair reminded Silke of a torch or pyre.
'And the most important thing, she wants to fock', a little voice in Silke's mind reminded.
Its goal had probably been to upset her, but instead of pushing it away like usual, Silke just let it linger there, agreeing with it. Indeed, this woman was able to give Iris what I can't, she thought to herself.
What in the world was going on in Iris' mind, though? Why was she telling her this? Silke was aware of Iris' occupation, but still this wasn't the kind of information one just blurted loudly around like that. Silke both hated and loved her imagination, which was able to paint pictures, like works of art rich in detail in her mind. It helped tremendously with studying. Though, in situations like this it burned some truly unwanted images on her retinas forever. Besides, now her neighbors knew as well. The other two could see very pale pink splotches appearing on her cheeks before they vanished almost instantly.
“That's... interesting?” Silke noted and nodded politely at Evangline, trying to shoo away the mental image while looking at her. Immediately Silke rebuked herself. Who the heck said 'interesting' after someone had been just describing in detail about their intercourse? Well... herself, apparently.
“I mean, um... nice”, she corrected, smiling – while hoping it didn't look too much like a grimace - and slapping her hands together. “I'm glad to hear you're having a good time with each other.”
Silke rebuked herself again. 'Nice' sounded even more awkward.
“Um... yes, I have tea”, she answered Iris, while stepping aside so that the other two could enter. “And cocoa too. Come in, come in. I want to hear more.” 'Oh. My. Gods', she thought. “Like, IN GENERAL.”
Silke was acting weirdly, Iris thought to herself, as she stepped past her friend, letting her hand brush against Silke’s rear as she entered the house. Well, Silke was the type who usually acted weirdly, but this? Even for Silke, this would be considered weird. Iris had noticed the slight blush rising on her friend’s pale cheeks, yet fading away as quickly as it had appeared, like a dream you suddenly wake up from. Had it even been there?
Silke did blush, but in the end, it was very rare for the woman. Such thing sometimes occurred when Silke was angry and confused... or wanted to take something cute home. But right now? This was different. Was... Silke jealous? Silke? Jealous of her?
Well, if the situation was so, it was just as Iris had planned it in the first place! But why did she feel a sting in her heart? Like someone was pushing an icicle through it.
Pale viera walked up to the sofa, and threw herself down onto it, next to Laurence who rose his head, giving a quick glance at her, before curling up once again. Iris gave the dog a gentle rub behind his little orange ear. The shiba seemed like he had mostly forgiven what Iris had done back in the day, but still had some mistrust towards her.
“Ohh, cocoa would be just frickin’ lovely...”, she was about to add if Silke could top it with a sliver of rum, but realized it was not the best idea, after she had just told her friend about the month sober... Or well, sober was maybe not the right word to describe it, as Iris still drank. A month without drinking herself under the table, maybe?
All in all, Iris knew Silke never had alcohol at home. The ghostly viera had a bad habit to grab a bottle under stress, and that’s what Silke definitely had with her studies... Stress.
Iris followed Eva, as her companion walked in after her. Keeping her eyes locked onto woman, she gave a quick, meaningful nod towards the armchair, with a blue carbuncle plushie laying on its armrest. The icicle was digging its way into her heart, and having Eva sit down next to her on the sofa, would bring on the hammer, that would smash the icicle right through.
“...Its a fockin’ all out war back dere at tha manor soon, I tell ya...”, Iris started, crossing her legs, while still giving some affection to the shiba inu. The soft fur of the dog helped to ease her nerves a bit.
Keeping her eyes locked on Silke, working on her small kitchen of a kind, Iris went through everything that had happened. From Lucian finding her and Eva from the church, to their arrival into the manor, and from Varg possibly hiring Eva, to Arsene bringing in the hitman couple to guard the property.
“It’s a heckin’ powder keg back dere, sweetie... Dat ding only needs a fockin’ spark, and it’s gonna blow up, wipin’ tha city off tha map.” Iris’ black lips curled up into a devilish grin. “I’ll make sure to keep ya informed of every heckin’ turn, Blackbird... Because dis shite will end up to tha fireworks of a fockin’ lifetime, I tell ya... Blacksoul is pissed off like a heckin’ hog in a heat. Lucy’s gonna eat ‘is meals wid ‘is arsehole for a good while, if he’s to shows his fockin’ smug face in tha manor..”
Evangeline ascended the stairs behind Iris, still trying to avert her eyes from Silke, who seemed to have ignored at least some of the comments entirely. She seemed so very different from Eva had thought she would be... in a lot of ways, Evangeline had pictured that Silke would be... much like Iris. Another rough-around-the-edges, prickly dancer that would have loved the opportunity to have a laugh with Iris over Eva’s embarrassment. Not someone who, for every intent and purpose, appeared to be a scholar.
And yet here they were, wandering into the home of someone who probably possessed more intelligence in her little finger than Evangeline had in her whole body. That was... an odd feeling... was she intimidated? Was this the sort of thing that Iris truly wanted? Scholarly discussions? Perhaps that was why Evangeline was so thoroughly bound to the often referred to position ‘second fiddle.’ What an odd sensation... she wasn’t used to feeling like this. Intimidation came in the form of combat prowess, no? Eva hadn’t felt intimidated by anyone in years... Even Andreas, the man who had swept Solenna away, hadn’t intimidated her. Over seven fulms tall... strong as an ox... but Eva had been sure that she could have placed his face squarely in the dirt had he come to fight her. This, though... this was different.
Eva entered the room, taking a seat in the armchair at Iris’ behest. Silke certainly liked... what were these things called... the little green aether pups that she had heard some of the other soldiers in her regiment discussing on occasion. Eva did think they were rather cute... but they must be difficult to hug, given that they weren’t... solid? Or were they? Evangeline looked to Silke again, standing there... damnably adorable still, in her half-awake state. She seemed to be waiting for something.
“Oh... um... tea, if you don’t mind. Thank you for inviting me into your home.”
She managed keeping her best straight face. Her eyes drifted across the bookshelves, packed with literature, with knowledge. Knowledge that Evangeline couldn’t hope to touch... not in a thousand years. She enjoyed reading her history books... but that was another thing entirely. It was just stories of battles and who won them and why. It wasn’t... whatever this was.
Study of aether...of magic, perhaps? That would explain the near ubiquitous presence of carbuncles throughout the apartment. Evangeline’s mind fell back through time for a moment though... to Iris in the church. Mentioning magic. Almost spitting as she did. She seemed so displeased by the practice at the time... so why would Silke be studying magic? Perhaps this was something different... chemistry... biology... who could guess?
“Wh-what is it... that you study, if you don’t mind me asking?” Stuttering again... damn. Why was this woman so intimidating?
Evangeline could hardly stand it, feeling this way. Stammering and stuttering around Iris was one thing... Eva had thought her a special case. She clenched her fists, looking around the room again to try and distract herself when... she saw… A puppy. An adorable little... Evangeline didn’t know the name of the breed... but it had a cute little pointed nose and triangular ears and orange fuzzy fur and it was laying next to Iris and it completely derailed Eva’s train of thought. She looked at it for a moment, sitting there and enjoying scritches from Iris, before blurting out the first thing that came back to her mind.
“C-can I pet your dog?”
Silke shivered slightly when Iris' hand touched her butt. The hells was she first bragging about her intercourses with Evangeline and then right after touching Silke's arse? Sure, Silke and Iris weren't in a relationship and Iris was free to do whatever and with whoever she wanted. Silke had already – bitterly – accepted it. But the thing that baffled her right now was that Iris just had to rub it in. Why? Silke couldn't even imagine being capable of doing something like that to the people she cared about the most. Silke had been having an impression there hadn't been any bad blood left between herself and Iris. Had she been wrong the whole time?
For a fleeting moment Silke felt an urge to yell 'You know what? Fock it!' and kick Iris out again. Maybe even speed up her departure with some carefully aimed lightning bolts. She got a hold of herself almost right away, though. She could never become a revered archmage if she behaved like some wretched punk or let her feelings get a grasp of her.
"Hot cocoa and tea - coming right up!" Silke announced after closing the door and turning around, smiling widely this time. The gesture was forced, perhaps, but at least she felt it wasn't as stiff as it had been earlier. She was getting good at this. Perhaps she should've become an actress instead. "I have whipped cream and marshmallows to put into cocoa, and milk and sugar for tea. Which one do you guys prefer, or would you rather drink your stuff completely without?"
"I'll take frickin' both, sweetheart!" Iris answered. "Like a heckin' mountain o' whipcream... and couple o' marshmallows... Whut ever ya wanna stick onto it, go for it."
"Milk and honey if you have it... or, um... milk and sugar if you don't. Thank you...", Evangeline scratched her jawline reservedly, immediately regretting requesting honey. It was a common food in Gridania, but probably was more of a delicacy in Ishgard.
At least Evangeline seemed like a civilized case, Silke thought. The dark viera didn't seem to enjoy the situation as much as Iris did, which meant she probably hadn't even known about Silke – or Iris' occupation for that matter – before she had agreed to... whatever they had going on right now. Silke had heard the saying 'opposites attract', but had never truly understood it. She still didn't. Silke had had many relationships with very different people than herself and all of them had ended into a catastrophe.
Silke filled a pot with fresh water and threw some firewood into the stove. A bright flame appeared from thin air just above her fingertip, and Silke blew it into the stove, igniting the firewood. While waiting for the water to boil she was digging her messy cabinet and trying to find the damn whipped cream and marshmallows. Meantime, Iris was explaining in more detail what had occurred lately. When Iris started to talk about the incident in the old church, something happened that felt like gods themselves would've decided to spit in Silke's face just for laughs.
She had found some godsdamned huge jar of jam from the cabinet, lifted it with her other hand, and noticed the marshmallows behind it. Keeping an eye on the water, listening to Iris repeating things Silke wouldn't have wanted to hear about, and trying to reach the marshmallow package from the cabinet that looked like an aftermath of some imperial mana bomb, had apparently been too much for her concentration to bear. Her grip slipped and the jar crashed into the sink, making a noise that was probably heard at the other side of the block of flats.
"Shiteberries!" she blurted with passion. "It's all good, no biggie!" she yelled towards the living room. "I've got it under control!"
The jar had broken into three huge chunks. Luckily there didn't seem to be any shards in the jam. 'I must save it!' was Silke's first thought after recovering from the worst wave of annoyance. 'One does not simply throw away food. No, no.'
"Black magic and summoning!" Silke yelled towards the living room again over the sound of boiling water, while grabbing an empty jar and starting to spoon the jam from the sink into it. "And pet ahead, if he lets you, miss Evangeline! He tends to be suspicious towards strangers and warms up slowly!"
Lucian had always given Silke the creeps. That was the main reason she liked to make fun of him. The things one feared tended to lose their power if one was able to make jokes of them. Despite Silke holding up her cheerful facade, and simultaneously containing her rage, a tiny glimmer of genuine amusement dug its way through it all while a mental image of the highborn elezen eating his meal with his arse had formed in Silke's mind. She bit her lip so that she wouldn't have laughed aloud.
"Thanks. Now I can't unsee that one either", she mumbled while spooning and having a race against time: how much jam could she save before it was all dripped down the sewer?
“Isn’t she just a fockin’ dashiest piece o’ ass ya ‘ave ever seen?” Iris laid back onto the sofa, legs crossed and one hand rubbing Laurence’s neck. “If the gods are real, dey were fockin’ horny as a rat when dey made dat gal. And I bet dats why dey made her a heckin’ bookworm in tha first place. To keep ‘er all for demselves! Selfish fockers...”
Silke was still acting weird though, and it drove Iris crazy. She knew her friend well enough to tell when something was amiss, and now there definitely was something. Silke’s smile had been forced... faked even. It was the smile Silke had on her lips, when she was in a very unpleasant situation, and just wanted to get through it fast. Eva also, had started to act weird after entering the apartment. What was wrong with everyone today?
Deep inside, Iris noticed she started to regret bringing the two into the same room in the first place. What had started as a perfect plan in her head, had suddenly turned into a weird dream, where she was locked into an apartment with two beautiful women, who she... for different reasons cared for? Yet those women were but a couple of meatsuits, which some creature had possessed.
Iris wanted to wake up. Though, if she had truly been in a dream, a loud crash echoing from the kitchen at the halfway of her story would have waken her up.
“Yer okai back dere, Blackbird?!” Iris shouted towards the kitchen, after hearing Silke’s loud curse, startling Laurence from his sleep in the process. "It's all good, no biggie!" answered Silke’s voice almost instantly.
Iris gave a quick glance towards Evangeline, rising her brow with a shrug, and finished the story, finally getting up to the point where they had left the manor. Silke was still in the kitchen. The sound of a boiling water had rose to company the weird sound of scraping metal on metal. It seemed like Silke had no intention on moving the pot off the flames though.
“Fockin ‘ell, I’ll go see whut the fock is ‘appenin’ back dere... Dats not like ‘er... at all.”
Iris stepped past Evangeline, brushing her cheek with the back of her finger while going, and headed into a kitchen. The sight before her eyes made Iris’ jaw drop for a moment. Silke, scraping jam out of the sink like her life depended on it, and a teapot, boiling over on the stove, sending steaming hot water down on the flames with an angry hissing that sounded like a pit of snakes.
“What tha fock, Silke?!” Iris finally blurted out, as she got back her voice all of the sudden. She rushed to the stove, moving the pot off the flames, but while doing so, her hand slipped on the handle, sending the lid flying off and spilling boiling hot water onto her arm. “Shiteclippers! Fockin’ ghhh...”, her curse turned into a shriek, but she still somehow managed to place the pot onto the table.
Her arm was on fire, and the pale white skin had started to gain pinkish tint and couple of blisters where the water had hit. “Silke, whut the ‘ell is wrong wid ya, sweetheart?! Ya did not get ani water on ya, did ya?!” With the heat still radiating up on her arm, like thousand little needles, Iris took a grip of Silke’s shoulders, turning the woman around, and wrapping arms around her.
With Silke’s affirmation, Evangeline slowly approached the cute little dog and extended her hand to him, hoping he would be okay with her lightly scratching behind his ear. She was as gentle as she could be, carefully extending her digits towards his nose, when a loud crash from the kitchen caused her to start, feeling like she jumped almost a yalm into the air. Her heart rate picked up and she looked around, hoping for something weapon-adjacent to be present in the room somewhere. She settled on the poker by the fireplace, reaching for it slowly, when Iris shouted back to her, seemingly unperturbed by what could’ve been the shattering of a window.
“It’s all good, no biggie!” Silke’s voice sounded off from the kitchen.
Evangeline relaxed slightly, a bit less worried of an intruder now. She wondered how Iris could be so blase-faire about the whole deal, given that she seemed to have more than a few people that would happily see her dead. Iris finished her story regardless, wrapping it up and muttering, “Fockin ‘ell, I’ll go see whut the fock is ‘appenin’ back dere... Dats not like ‘er..at all.”
As she walked past Evangeline, heading towards the kitchen, she brushed the dark skinned viera’s cheek as she passed, causing her heart rate to quicken once more. Evangeline sighed and went to turn her attention back to the dog, when she heard further exclamations from the kitchen, followed by a shriek from Iris. Before Eva could think about what she was doing, she was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, poker in hand, just in time to see Iris throw her arms around Silke.
The pot on the table filled with still-bubbling water and the splash on the ground told the story of what had happened, though. Though Evangeline’s emotions battled in her mind, coming to a head in the face of the two women embracing, it was as if someone had flipped the switch in her head, finally, that said ‘high pressure situation’.
Her emotions dulled, and the world grew grey around her, as her body took over. She took the pot, placing it on a potholder with ease, to ensure that the table wouldn’t burn. Placing the poker in the corner, she moved to Iris, who she assumed was the most injured. Stepping around the two, Evangeline assessed for injuries, quickly noticing the blisters rising on Iris’ forearm and asked: “Silke, do you know how to dress a wound?”
"The hells would I know? Do I look like some damn white mage?" Silke cried out, sounding both frustrated and shocked, but still clearly more of the former.
“Right... very well. I know little of burns, but I will go find someone who does. Run cold water over the burn, and I’ll go find an apothecary for proper bandages and whatever else we need. There is one near here, isn’t there?”
Evangeline stepped back from the two. She didn’t touch Iris. She didn’t touch either of them. It wasn’t like Iris wanted her here, anyways... this was all she could do. Perhaps she could be useful, and the two could be left to themselves. At Silke’s response, she turned and walked from the room, out the door and into the chilly Ishgardian air.
Silke twitched slightly when Iris hugged her, but she still wrapped her arms timidly around her, shocked that Iris had just gotten boiling water on her. Silke wasn't squeezing like Iris did, though. The heck was she getting all close and personal so suddenly?
"What's wrong you ask, princess?" Silke repeated, slightly aghast. "Everything was just fine before you came and started throwing the pot around! I accidentally dropped some godsdamned jar, which appeared to be heavier than it first seemed, into the sink. I would've taken care of the pot in a moment! ...And... no, I didn't get any water on me", she added a bit more calmly, when they let go of each other.
Then Evangeline, too, arrived into the kitchen. These two dumbasses were like some damn knights trying to save a damsel in distress, Silke thought sourly. While Evangeline was examining Iris' burns, Silke stared at the two, gritting her teeth. There she was again, with her older and more mature companion, who - without a doubt - already had some renowned career behind her.
Silke took a quick glance at herself; her carbuncle morning gown and moogle slippers. Were they the reasons everyone insisted treating her like a child? Because she liked cute things? Or was it something in herself? Something about her behavior, perhaps? Her absent-mindedness? The farther she got with her studies the more sceptical people seemed to be about her fending. First Asagi, then Silke's school'mates', and now even Iris.
When Evangeline asked did Silke know anything about taking care of wounds, she couldn't help but cry out: "The hells would I know? Do I look like some damn white mage?"
She could put a bandage on paper cut but that was pretty much it. The yell had already left her lips before Silke remembered she had just made herself a promise to be more sophisticated and controlled. Before she got her mouth open again, Evangeline was already on her way and had stepped outside.
Silke stared at the door for a while. At least Evangeline had had a good reason to go, but it also annoyed Silke, that every single time, when she and Iris were spending time with other people than each other, Asagi or Arsene – which was very rare – sooner or later their company vanished somewhere, leaving Silke and Iris alone. Why, why did it always happen? Of course Silke enjoyed spending time with Iris, but she was also craving other friends. She didn't want to be depending on only one person. Yet it was either her or Iris - or worse, both of them - who managed to drive away other people.
As Eva had left the building, Iris looked at the blisters on her aching arm, and walked up to the sink. What was left of the jam, was now lazily making its way down the hole. It was unlikely that cold water would do any good at this point, but Iris opened the tap anyway, letting the ice cold water run for a while, washing away the jam, before sticking her arm under it, grimacing.
“Yeah, guess I heckin’ overreacted. The damn pot was throwin’ water around like a frickin’ volcano, and I freaked out, as I thought it boild over onto ya...” Iris looked at her arm, still holding it under the running water. It was not looking pretty, but could have been worse. Maybe it could heal without leaving a scar.
“Just look at mi, Blackbird. I keep destroyin’ thin’s, no matter whut I do. For fock’s sake, I hated mi mother, for being a damn useless wreck she was. And now? Shite. Its almost like tha heckin’ apple surely wont fall far from da tree...”, she gave a quick glance towards her friend, before closing the tap, and carefully drying her onto a towel. “...I’m heckin’ joyful yer alright though. Dink we could still make dat cocoa?” Iris walked up to the pot, peeking inside it, and coming to the conclusion it was still half-full of water. Maybe it would do for three smaller cups.
The burning pain on the arm started to return soon after she had dried it up, but, biting hardly onto her lip, she more or less successfully hided the fact from Silke. “Sssshite...”, viera hissed under her breath, feeling like someone had been spanking her arm with a bunch of nettles for an hour straight.
Years back, when she was still living on the streets of Limsa Lominsa, the guards had caught her from pickpocketing, and rolled her in a huge bush of nettle for it. The feeling on her arm, brought the old memory to life in her head.
“...W..Whut ya gonna drink, Blackbird? Tea maybe? C... Could s...share a cocoa wid ya too... Ya know whut dey ‘ave in dose fancy heckin’ restaurants... Dose straws dat go whirly around each other, and ya can share a drink all heckin’ romantically and shite. We could get one of dose. ‘Aight?”
This was one of those moments Silke found herself once again wondering: how the hells did Iris do it? At one moment she was all sweet and thoughtful, then a couple of minutes later a complete arsehat. And then a moment later sweet again, and so on. Or perhaps the most important question was: why? And which one was the real one?
"I'd rather drink all of my cocoa by myself", Silke explained after a short pause, with a hint of formality in her voice. "I should probably start drinking from a barrel or something anyway, since regular mugs or glasses seem to contain way too little for my tastes."
“Well...”, Iris shrugged, knocking the pot with her fingernail. “Dis thin’ is ‘alf empty, so wont fill a barrel wid dis, but... We should all still get a heckin’ mugful...”
Iris’ voice lacked the energy it had a moment ago, suddenly sounding rather tired. Her gaze traveled in the room, from the door, to the flames still dancing on the stove, and to a carbuncle clock, hanging on the wall. She could not look Silke in the eyes. She very well knew she had once again let down the woman she loved. And that love burned in her chest, hotter than the flames on the stove... harder to ignore than the burning sensation on her arm. Yet why was it she could only bring misery into Silke’s life? Time after time after time.
“...I’m gonna find dat whipcream and candies, if ya mix tha cocoa, okai..?” she finally sighed, moving up to the cabinet, starting to go through the foodstuff Silke had stored. Soon she pulled out a small back of marshmallows, waving it in the air, in front of Silke’s eyes. “Lookie-look whut I found! Lets just stack a mad pile of dese onto tha whipcream! It will be fockin’ beautiful... Like a heckin’ tiny snow castle... ‘Aight?”
***
Evangeline walked briskly down the steps, her goal clear in her mind. A chill sat in the air, the same that seemed to sit permanently in Ishgard, regardless of the time of year. Eva could see her breath, just barely, a vaporous cloud that was constantly being remade and dispersed as she exhaled and strode through it. She wore a wry smile, unsure of what exactly she should be feeling right now. She had time to walk, time to herself, time with her own thoughts. Though this, to her, felt like a punishment worse than death, perhaps she could straighten this whole thing out in her head. Find out where she stood. What she should do next.
Very well... let’s look at the facts, she thought, releasing a sigh inwardly.
Fact: Iris and I just met. We have formed an odd sort of arrangement that has her spending time with me for compensation.
Fact: Iris and I slept together. I enjoyed it and she seemed to enjoy it. Evangeline moved slightly out of the way, angling her body to the side so that she could fit between a merchant’s stand and a heavyset man that was moving in the other direction.
Fact: I pulled Iris from a breakdown. She seems to struggle with another personality of some kind. She seemed expectant that I would leave after finding that out. I did not. Also, she fell asleep in my arms. It doesn’t seem like the sort of thing she usually does. She wiped her nose. It must surely be red at this point, with how chilly it was outside.
Fact: She has shown some level of interest in me. She dreaded stating this next one to herself.
Fact: I have... fallen for Iris. Against my better judgement in every way. She has a pull over me that I haven’t truly experienced before, and I can’t fight it.
F-fact... Iris... I-Iris is in l-love... with S-Silke.
That thought was what did it. That was the one that set the tears flowing. Eva kept walking, her goal still clear in her mind, but with tears pouring down her cheeks. How had she done this to herself... jumped straight from one failing relationship into another one. She had left Solenna... sweet, wonderful Solenna...for this? A pale, thin viera woman... so thin that she seemed malnourished... who could barely manage to give her the time of day if she asked?
And on top of all of that... she was so clearly in love with Silke. The woman was all over her! Iris did nothing but praise Silke... her perfect little angel. The apple of her eye. This begged the question, though... why weren’t the two of them together? Was it Iris? Her refusal to be tied down? Or was there something about Silke that Evangeline didn’t know…? There’s no way...no way Iris wouldn’t have said something. She must have confessed her feelings to Silke.
Evangeline turned a corner, tears still stinging at her face. She wiped at her nose again, and then her eyes, wiping them first and then rubbing at them, hoping that she didn’t look to be too much of a mess. She sniffled, and continued walking, seeing the Apothecary’s sign in the distance. Perhaps she should just excuse herself, and return to the manor. Maybe the two of them wanted time alone.
But... if that was the case, why had Iris invited her? She had seemed fairly eager to bring Eva along... despite her outburst in the bathroom. It was just... so damnably confusing. Did Iris want her? Did Iris not want her? Was she a substitute for Silke? Or was she something different?
All of these questions went unanswered, though, as Evangeline stepped through the door to the Apothecary. She must have looked quite the sight, 6 fulms, 2 ilms of musclebound viera, ducking under the doorway to keep room enough for her ears as she did. Flushed from the cold, tears clinging to her cheeks... not something you would normally see on the streets of Ishgard. She stepped up to the shopkeeper, clearing her throat.
“G-good morning…”, she sniffled again, wiping at her nose. “Do you have anything that would help with a burn? And some clean bandages?”
The merchant, a rather young looking miqo'te man, took a moment to first absorb the sight of Evangeline, and then another to process what she was asking for.
“Uhm... er.. .y-yes. The aloe lotion, over in the corner on the second highest shelf. And we have bandages right here at the counter. Just... apply the lotion, it should help with the pain. Wrap it in bandages, and change them every four hours. You’ll probably want to reapply the lotion when you change them.”
Evangeline nodded in thanks, and efficiently collected her goods, paying for them with gil from a small pouch she kept tied around her waist. She took her leave, waving at the young man, who looked as if he wanted to say something as she was leaving, but decided not to.
She exited the shop, back into the cold air. It was starting to feel a bit more punishing, and Eva could see a few snowflakes starting to dot the sky in the distance. She would be back soon. She almost wanted to drop off the bandages and then leave, but... maybe she should stay a little bit. See how things played out. Maybe she could get a little bit more understanding of the situation... because she refused to let go of Iris without being sure she wasn’t wanted. She kept moving forward, upset, angry, sad, and tired...but a bit more determined than she had been a few minutes ago.
***
Silke gave Iris a small nod, before grabbing a pouch of cocoa powder and starting to spoon it into the cups. She was working near the small kitchen window, glancing at the gray inner court every now and then, and her back turned to Iris.
Overall Silke saw herself as a positive person. She didn't truly hate anything, although she often joked about it. Hate was such a powerful word. But if someone had asked her to point just one thing she could say she truly hated, it would've been mixed signals, messing with her. Most people tended to mess with her in one way or another, and at least with her inner circle Silke wanted to feel safe enough to lower her defenses. Keeping them up constantly was tiring and it ate her from the inside.
'It was supposed to be over', she thought. 'We had our misunderstandings and arguments, we overcame them and we were just fine. Why did she have to continue it? She could've done her thing with Evangeline, heck, even bring her here. But why rub it in? I'm too tired for this shite.'
When Iris found the marshmallows and said they'd make the cocoa toppings like a snow castle, Silke felt tears trying to come out. Stubbornly she pushed them back while biting her lip, before glancing at Iris over her shoulder, smiling and agreeing lightly:
"Sounds fancy. Just the thought of it makes me almost feel our blood vessels blocking up." She turned around and started to stir the drinks. "But still, oh, so delicious. Why must everything unhealthy be so delicious?"
Silke glanced outside again, towards the gray sky. After the exams of this month were over, the students could choose a place to go study more how things worked in practice. So far they had been mostly studying theory of all general subjects, and only doing some smaller and safer experiments while their teachers had been watching them closely. Now was the time for action, and the beginning of specialized studies. Silke was about to dive into the studies of a battle mage and destructive alchemy. She pondered to herself which post could possibly be the farthest one away from Ishgard.
“Why? Because tha world is a heckin’ unfair place, Blackbird”, Iris said. “In a damn perfect world, we would be livin’ in a frickin’ castle somewhere in tha mountains. ‘Ave a damn barrel o’ cocoa, a bath’ouse and a fockin’ basement full o’ blastin’ powder and booze to play wid.”
Iris rolled a single marshmallow between her fingers, squeezing it down, and watching it slowly buff back up, as she loosened her grip. “...Yet ‘ere we are. In a fockin’ apartment flat, in a city filled with damn arseplucks who dont get us. Like fockin’ birds in a cage...”, she flipped the candy into her mouth, turning to Silke, who was still working with her cocoa mix.
Silke was so beautiful. In her own, rather curious way, she was stunning. After a while, Iris caught herself staring at her friend, the marshmallow still lingering on her tongue. Viera shook her head, picking up another candy from the bag, and reaching it towards Silke, holding it an inch away from woman’s lips. Silke’s spoon stopped moving, and she placed it down on the table. Carefully, she took the candy from Iris, holding it for a moment, and placing it into her mouth.
Oh, how much Iris had hoped for the woman to pick the candy from her fingers, using her lips. She had almost seen it happening in her mind, but then again... Silke would never do such a thing. What was she even thinking? Most likely nothing. The tears were burning her eyes, almost masking away the burning sensation on her arm, but she kept them in, flipping another candy into her mouth. She missed though, the soft candy hitting her on the cheek, and falling onto the table.
“...I’m workin’ mi fockin’ ass off to make sum cash. It’s... gonna take some time, as yer sissie has cut mi shifts to ‘alf lately, but... I’m gettin’ dere, Silke... And... And when I ‘ave got sum savin’s, I thought I could... Ya know... Get sum own place sumwhere, and I thought...” A sound of door opening interrupted Iris in the middle of the sentence, and she hissed a curse under her breath. “...We are in tha fockin’ kitchen, Evangelin’!” she shouted towards the doorway, her long, sickly fingers gripping the bag of marshmallows spasmodically.
Evangeline slid the door open, a paper bag of medical supplies clutched in her hand. She had tried to wipe at her eyes and her nose as much as possible, and though she had cleared them both (or so she thought) she could only assume that her smudged eyeliner and her most likely running mascara would display that she had been crying. She supposed that she would deal with that when the time came-for now, at least, she wanted to focus on the task at hand. Iris’ arm needed to be bandaged... she must be in incredible pain right now. Eva’s feelings could wait.
She startled at the sound of Iris’ shout. She seemed upset... which stood to reason with a burned arm. Eva stepped briskly into the kitchen, noting the two vieras seemed to be casually conversing. Iris must have an impressive pain tolerance... ran through her head as she saw how Iris was standing. When she met Iris’ eyes, though, she was a bit taken aback by the other woman’s expression.
Had Eva done something wrong? Offended her somehow? She shook her head, trying to clear out the stray thoughts. That would be a question for later…
Evangeline moved to the sink, excusing herself as she moved past Silke, and washed her hands. Water, soap, water, towel. She picked up the bag from the side of the sink, wandering over to Iris and removing a roll of bandages, a roll of medical tape, and a small metal container from the bag. She gestured to Iris to show her arm.
“We need to put this cream on your arm. It will calm the burn and lessen the pain. Then we wrap it in this bandage, and change it every four hours until it’s not causing you as much pain. Would you like to sit down so I can get it wrapped up?” Evangeline looked at Iris and gave the brightest smile she could muster.
“I’m fine, Evangelin’! It’s just a heckin’ small burn... Will... ‘eal on its own by the damn mornin’...”, Iris looked at her burned arm, which was visibly shaking, like dead leaves in a breeze. She felt the burn, like it was creeping into her bones. On top of that, the arm had started to ache, sending arrows of pain up towards elbow, and down to her fingers, still holding onto the bag of marshmallows.
“...Fockin’ ‘ell, fine! Do whut ya wish... But change every fourth ‘our, ya say? Ya ‘ear dat, Silke? Yer gonna come over to sleep wid mi, and change mi bandages, and kiss da pain awai, hm?” Iris took one more candy out of the bag, before placing the back on the table, right next to Silke, and making her way to a tiny dinner table, which was loaded with books on a dangerously unsteady pile. Viera sat down onto the chair, placing her elbow onto the table, so her arm was hanging on air. “...Do ya mind, if I smoke, darlin?”
Why in the seven hells does she keep talking about 'us', Silke thought, stirring the cocoas even more furiously, although the powder had dissolved into the drinks ages ago. Iris was truly hopeless. Silke had explained to her in words of one syllable why it just wouldn't work, and how it would only cause them both more pain. And despite it all here they were again. Should she draw some godsdamned diagram about it next? It probably wouldn't work either. Iris' skull was apparently too thick for receiving information.
Silke felt, oddly enough, somewhat relieved when she heard the door in the hallway and realized Evangeline had returned. At least now she wouldn't have to listen to all this sweet talk, which made Silke remember all the good moments she and Iris had had together, and which were now like acid poured into her reopened wounds. She grabbed the whipped cream container from the table and squeezed so much cream into every mug, that the cocoas ended up looking like soft ice served in mugs.
Meanwhile Evangeline was tending Iris, Silke took one of the mugs and sat on the other side of the table, opposite the two others. She was observing them closely, while poking her spoon into the cream, taking a full load of hot cocoa and cream, poked it into her mouth, into the cream again and so on. Silke noticed Evangeline's reddish eyes. She had probably been crying. Silke had had somewhat mixed feelings towards her, but right now she was mainly feeling sorry for her. Iris was probably just playing with them both.
Silke couldn't help but frown at Iris' comment. For a moment she froze to stare at her in disbelief. 'Are you focking kidding me?!' she was tempted to ask, and to slam her mug onto the table with full force to give her words some more spice. Then she noticed the mug was one of her favorites: a pink one, that had two black eyes, a snout and a little pigtail on the other side of it. She quickly let go of it, and yanked her shaking hand into her lap.
"I'm not going anywhere", she announced in a steady voice. "I have places to be tomorrow morning. And I doubt you need me to tend you, Iris. I'm sure your other hand is working just fine, and you can do it yourself." She scooped a couple of spoonfuls of whipped cream into her mouth, before adding: "No smoking allowed indoors, they say. The stench gets absorbed into the structures. And if they'll find something to complain about this apartment when I'm about to move, guess who gets to pay the expenses?"
“Fine... No smokin’ indoors...”, Iris stuffed the pack of cigarettes back into her pocket with her free hand.
She glanced towards Eva, seeing woman’s red eyes and smeared eyeliner. Of course Eva had been crying. ‘What else I do these days than make people cry?’ Iris thought to herself.
Her gaze traveled from Eva to Silke, sitting on the other side of the table with her pink piggie-mug. Her dearest friend. The girl she loved... the only girl she had ever truly loved... sat there, so distant. Acting almost like she did not even know Iris anymore. There was no snow castle of mashmallows on her mountain of whipcream... And that’s when the storm that had been raging inside Iris broke the dam. She coiled forward on the bench, as the tears started running down freely on her pale cheeks. Dripping onto the burn, like a salty summer rain.
Evangeline had been doing rather impressively at holding herself together, she had thought. As she applied the cream very gently to Iris’ arm, she quietly listened to the other two talk. Iris doing her level best to whisper sweet nothings to Silke with a megaphone, and Silke seeming... cold. She sounded even less inclined to put up with Iris than when they had walked in the door.
Iris put away her cigarettes at Silke’s behest, and, with a quick glance around the room, seemed to finally give way to the tension that had been building in her this whole time. She huddled over and burst into tears. Evangeline looked up, shaken by the sudden change in mood, and turned her eyes to Silke, ‘what do I do?’ written across her face.
Silke’s eyes, at first, were locked on Iris, seeming shocked by the outburst. They glazed over with sadness for just a moment... so quickly that Evangeline would have missed it, had she not been searching desperately for an answer on the viera’s bespectacled face. The sadness faded, though, as quickly as it had come. She retained control of herself, and took another drink of cocoa, faster now than she had before.
“Ahh...I-Iris…”, Evangeline said, unsure of how to handle the situation given her companion’s preferences. Iris had specifically said that she didn’t want to be hugged. She didn’t want that kind of relationship with Eva. Evangeline wanted nothing more than to take the woman in her arms and be there for her. But that wasn’t what she wanted. Iris wanted... Iris wanted companionship without the relationship. Because the relationship she wanted eluded her, somehow.
For some reason, her and Silke didn’t work. Eva didn’t know what it was, but there seemed to be a mountain of hurt between the two. She didn’t know what could be done to fix things for these two... and... she hated to admit it to herself... but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to fix this. It felt horrible, and selfish to think of. She wanted Iris to be happy. But she wanted Iris to be happy with her. Wanted Iris to fall into her arms. Wanted Iris to come home to her. Maybe Iris didn’t love her now... but maybe she would. Someday. Maybe... maybe it was best to go with the safest option here.
“Iris? C-can... can I touch you?” Eva hoped desperately that she would be able to embrace the woman. That she wouldn’t run. That she wouldn’t disappear. She couldn’t just sit here in silence, though. Silke didn’t seem inclined to do anything about this. Eva looked at Silke again, wondering if her temperament had changed. As she did, Silke finished her cocoa, stood up, and walked out of the room.
While Silke marched into the living room, she cursed from the bottom of her heart they were all in her place. Normally she would just leave situations like this, but where could she go now that she was already at home? She couldn't fall apart while there were guests around. She was so tired of crying. She felt she had cried for at least ten or more people lately.
Laurence was still sleeping on the sofa. Silke was tempted to hug him, but she decided to skip that as well. She knew if she hugged something right now, she couldn't probably hold it in anymore.
Silke had been waiting for the damn dinner so much. It was supposed to have been a new beginning for them all. If Asagi and Varg could've just started behaving like normal, functional adults around each other, it would've made everyone else's life easier. Now Silke was no longer certain did she even want to go. If Evangeline lived in the estate nowadays, no doubt she'd attend the dinner, too. And Asagi had announced Ainu, who had just arrived to Ishgard, would join them as well. Silke thought it was a terrible idea. The lalafell was a focking sociopath. And Asagi was delusional if she thought she could cure her with motherly love and care. That case was beyond help.
And if Iris thought she'd make Silke's heart melt by crying, she couldn't have been more wrong. Silke kept repeating 'self care' like a manta in her mind, hugging herself and squeezing her arms with her nails, while looking outside from the window, although there was absolutely nothing interesting there. Iris was just like the rest of them. For a moment Silke had hoped she would've been wrong, but it was all the same shite in the end, just wrapped in a slightly different package.
“Don’t touch mi!” Iris screeched through her tears, while cradling herself back and forth on the chair. “Don’t ya fockin’ touch mi! W-We had a d-deal, is it so frickin’ ‘ard to u-understand?!”
Still, somewhere deep in her heart, Iris wanted Evangeline to hold her. She wanted Silke to hold her. The woman she had once been, on the streets of Limsa Lominsa, would have given anything in the world, to have someone to wrap arms around her, telling her everything would be alright. That the morning would come, after the stormy night, and it would be beautiful.
Yet that woman was trapped, deep below the layers of fear, hatred and agony. From the corner of her eyes, Iris had seen Silke emptying her cup of cocoa, and walking out of the room. The sight was the executioner, wearing a dirty, black hood, and pulling the lever, which finally dropped the heavy blade down, splitting Iris’ heart in two.
“I... I just w-wanted to build... a heckin’ castle...”, her voice was barely audible. “Wanted to build a damn castle for... for us to l-live in...” Iris got up, her head feeling dizzy.
It was like time in the room had suddenly stopped onto its tracks. The spring inside the clock had broken, freezing the pointers on the same dead moment for ever and ever. She made her way to the cup of cocoa, still resting on the counter. Her long, pale fingers, reached into the bag, picking up a single marshmallow, and placing it on the huge mountain of whipped cream. After looking at it for a while, she reached for another, and another, carefully piling them on the mountain, with her shaking hand.
“...A-And dis is where dey lived...”, she muttered, while balancing the candy onto drink. “...A h-heckin’ beautiful castle, on a mountains... dat rose above t-tha forest, like clouds... Damn lucky bastards... A poet and ‘er muse. I-I bet ya ‘ave never seen such beautiful woman...” Iris paused for a moment, to wipe away tears that were running free over her cheeks, like small, salty rivulets.
“...Yet da poet had a s-secret... ‘Er words were poison. Drippin’ from ‘er mouth, every time she opened it to weave words. Why? ...Because tha poet was... a frickin’ monster... A creature, which was in love wid tha gal, and ‘ad taken a form o’ a poet to be wid ‘er... Yet tha mask on ‘er face did not keep tha poison from drippin’... And all tha words tha poet weaved for dat gal? Dey just tainted ‘er. Made ‘er sick... And when da gal finally withered awai? Tha castle on clouds came crashin’ down, buryin’ tha monster alive...”
As Iris stopped, the pile of marshmallows on the whipped cream had grown into an unstable little mountain on its own. She picked up a spoon, her hand shaking, and scooped up most of the whipped cream and candies. “...Fockin’ crashin’ down...” She placed the spoonful into her mouth, and the sweet taste mixed with the saltiness of her own tears.
Evangeline sat, listening to Iris weave her story. A fairy tale... Eva wondered if this was some sort of response to trauma. Iris’ other self seemed to be lost in a dreamland, so fully steeped in fantasy that she couldn’t recognize any part of reality. This... this seemed to be Iris teetering on the edge. Wavering between reality and fantasy. Because... because she couldn’t bear... to lose Silke. Damnable, adorable Silke.
After a few minutes, Iris’ story ended, the monster that represented her crushed under a mountain of rubble. Evangeline stood up, hoping that she could figure out how to handle this one. Hoping that she could pull Iris from the edge, and not hurl her off of it unintentionally. She took a step forward... and then another. She felt as if her shoes were lined with lead. She reached up, placing a trembling hand on Iris’ shoulder almost instinctively, her mind ceding to her body once again. Iris winced as Eva touched her shoulder, but didn’t seem to react any other way, still poking at the cocoa with her spoon, eyes fixed on the horizon, where dark clouds were gathering.
“Iris…”, Evangeline said quietly. “I may not be much... but I’m not going anywhere. I know I’m not h-her... but I am yours. I’m right here... by your side. And you’re... you’re right here with me. I couldn’t i-imagine how you’re feeling right now... but I’ll stay with you through it. I’m not running away. I...I don’t want to restrict you... or keep you... I just want to be with you…”, she trailed off, biting her lip.
Gods this was difficult. Finding words... she felt like she was just repeating things she had already said. “I-I like you. A lot.” She blurted out. “You’re att... att…”, her mouth couldn’t find the word, caught in her throat as it was. “Att… attrraactive to me for a lot of reasons. Y-you’re strong...and p-perseverant... you’re beautiful… but I want you to be free, still.”
The tears were welling up in her eyes now... wouldn’t be long before she couldn’t hold them back any more. She thought briefly of offering to talk to Silke... but she was feeling a little too selfish to do that right now. Maybe if Iris asked her... “I want to touch you... to hold you... b-because I think it might help... but I don’t want you to feel trapped…”, she said, her breath catching in her lungs as she did. “C-can you let me? I’ll let go... I’ll let go the moment you ask me to.”
Silke heard the other two talking something in the kitchen, and as time passed, she became more and more convinced she either had to get rid of them, or she had to get out. She glanced once again at Laurence sleeping on the couch.
That's right. She hadn't taken him out yet. A perfect excuse. She hurried to her closet and rummaged through it, trying to find some clothes that hadn't been amongst the laundry. The fancy dress Iris had given her was there, but right now Silke would've rather walked out naked than worn it. There were also both of her party dresses. They were all black, but the other one was long and fancy, and didn't have sleeves. Silke had planned to wear it during the dinner. The other one was festive as well, but compared to the first one, way more casual. Its hem reached her knees, it had tight, long puff sleeves, and it didn't reveal as much. That would do, she thought.
Silke quickly changed into it, hoping the other two wouldn't surprise her meanwhile. They didn't. They seemed to have much to talk about.
Simultaneously Silke took off her tiny panties and revealing nightgown. She had used them only for one night, so they hadn't gotten dirty yet. She'd return them to Iris before they left. Silke didn't have to go out without pants, since she also managed to find some old leggings that had gotten short for her. She didn't mind. Nobody would notice their length while she was wearing her high heeled, leathery thighboots.
Silke combed her hair hastily and tied the long, thick ponytail on her crown. Her bangs were somewhat messy, but she didn't bother to do anything to them. Meanwhile looking at herself from mirror she pondered maybe she could go to store too. That would prolong her trip to the city, and Iris and Evangeline would've hopefully focked off by then. Though, Silke was too tired to see too much effort for her make-up. She took a black eyeliner and drew even darker circles on the ones already existing. She painted her lips dark pink, so that she wouldn't look like a corpse.
"Laurence? Are you awake, boy?" she asked in a tired voice, while crouching next to the sofa, gently petting the sleepy dog.
Iris heard Eva’s words, but it was like they were coming from somewhere, really far away, behind a veil of fog, even though she knew the woman was standing right behind her. Y-You are not well... s-something is wrong... Iris shook her head, trying to make the voice go away... It didn’t.
I... I want my knight... my knight in a shining armor, where is he? I have... I have lost my knight!
“Shut up!!”
T-The castle, it’s... its crumbling. What is happening..? Help me... please...
“Shut up, shut up, shut up!!”
Iris closed her eyes tightly, fingers on her temples, long, clawlike nails, digging in and drawing blood. She took a step back, walking into Evangeline, and leaning back against the woman’s chest.
Evangeline tensed up for a moment. The other woman was struggling, that much was obvious. Eva hoped that she could calm her down. She was digging her nails into her forehead again. Without even thinking about it, Evangeline gently placed her arms around Iris, not holding her back, or restricting her movement, but cuddling up against Iris' lithe frame.
"Iris... Iris you're here with me, okay? It's just you, Iris. Just you and me. You are Iris, nobody else. It's going to be okay... everything is going to be okay. Listen to the sound of my voice... follow me back..."
“...All I wanted to do, is fockin’ build a castle... L-Look at dat!” Iris waved her hands towards Evangeline’s mug, still resting on the counter, untouched. “Dere is no fockin’ castle... W-Where is my knight? I... I want my... I want mi Silke... Cinnabun? I’m.. I’m so...”
Iris felt the arms that were wrapped around her, like a cradle, everything else was hidden behind the deep fog in her head. What was this place? Who was she? And who’s arms were these? She did not really care anymore.
She felt numb, and when the fog finally parted, she was standing on a shore. A shore of white sand, like ground bones reached as far as the eye can see on her both sides. And in front of her? There was a ocean. A black ocean from where the calms waves rolled in to shore, to caress it like a lover’s fingers for just a moment, before falling back into the embrace of the ocean.
Iris took one step... and another. Her eyes caught the arm, where the burn had been only a moment ago. Yet now? There was nothing. The burn was gone, same with the pain it had brought. Tilting her head, Iris poked the skin couple of times, then pinching it between her fingers, and pullin. No pain. Nothing. She kept walking.
The black waves were calling her with a voice she knew, but could not place to who it belonged to. She stepped into water, walking on, until it reached almost to her knees, when she heard another voice from behind her, and turned around. On the waterline, veiled by the fog, she saw three figures. A Three pairs of long ears.
A tall warrior, a woman with long, ghostly hair, and a sickly, corpse-like woman, standing between them. The panic washed over her... she had to walk back, what was she doing? Yet, when she tried to move her legs, they felt like something was holding them from the bottom of the ocean.
Oh gods... You sound like a vulture... They are my favourite birds...
It’s going to be okay... Everything is going to be okay...
S-Something is not right...
The panic washed over Iris, and she jerked her leg again, but instead of getting it free, she lost her balance, falling back into the embrace of deep black. Iris gasped in Evangeline’s embrace, opening her eyes.
Her burned arm looked horrible. Like someone had been ripping out skin from the burned area. She sighed deeply, moving her fingers on top of the burn, and mumbling words under her breath. A faint light, mix of black and shades of purple started dancing around her fingertips, slowly sewing shut the worst of the damage, even though the arm still looked burned and blistered.
“Seven hells, how did this happen?"
Iris’ eyes were closed. She seemed stuck... wrapped in a dreamlike state, twitching involuntarily as if she were sleeping. Evangeline’s heart rate rose, as fear gripped at her, clawing at her arms, her legs... she held Iris, still as gently as if her arms were wrapped around the finest glass vase the world had ever seen.
How was Iris suddenly so precious to her? Why did she feel the need to protect her? Some people had baggage...but Iris had wagonfulls. Cities filled with baggage. The smart move would be to walk away from this mess. To set Iris gently down and leave this place... run far away from Ishgard and never return. Maybe she could win Solenna back.
She barely entertained the thought, though, looking at Iris’ face. Pained and thin, weak and scared. Beautiful, pitiful, and now...alone. Eva could leave her no more than she could leave her own legs behind. She would just have to figure something out.
As Iris opened her eyes, gasping for breath as if she had been drowning, Evangeline’s heart leapt from her chest, relief pouring through her veins. She was about to say something... to thank the twelve that Iris was back... but she watched as Iris sighed and healed her arm.
”Seven hells, how did this happen?” ...What? That... that wasn’t Iris’ voice. Iris couldn’t heal herself. This was wrong. Something was wrong. This wasn’t the other, either. The one who called herself ‘Lareine’ didn’t speak like that.
Evangeline felt herself tense up again, her relief pulled out of her body like air from a drowned person’s lungs. Still keeping her arms gently around the body of Iris, she whispered quietly to the not-Iris:
“In response to your question... you spilled boiling water on your arm. It was burned, and I was caring for it. I have a question of my own, though, if you don’t mind... what is your name?”
‘Burned my arm..?’ the pale viera thought to herself, as her eyes caught Evangeline’s arms, still wrapped around her. ‘Must have been wild evening’.
She had no idea where she was. Nothing in this place seemed in any way familiar to her. She had no memory of burning her arm with boiling water... and the whole idea sounded so foolish in her head. And on top of everything. Who the hell was this woman, embracing her, and tending to her injury? The burn would leave a scar by now... Why did she not tend it with magic herself it in the first place?
Maybe this was all just a twisted dream, and she would wake up sooner or later. The not-Iris reached out towards the counter, picking up the cup of cocoa, and brought it on her lips, taking a sip.
“Well, considering the fact you are asking for my name, I guess you are not my mate... So my second guess would be... One-night stand? Either way, I would be grateful, if you removed your arms from me. As much as this looks like some ending scene on a romance novel, with whole kitchen and hot cocoa... Having a complete stranger just hanging on your ass is rather... obtrusive.”
Placing down her cup, the viera studied the arms that were holding her. Strong... hardy... the woman was either a soldier, or maybe a smith. A farmhand was unlikely, considering the overall cleanliness or the arms and nails. ‘Must be a soldier of some sort’.
“The name is Irene... Irene d’Espair... and I guess this is a pleasure. For now.”
The other two could hear a silent snapping against the floor, before Laurence appeared from the living room, stretching and yawning, and wearing a red leather collar, decorated with silver colored, heart shaped staples. A black leather leash had been tied to the collar, and soon Silke appeared from the living room after the dog, holding the other end of the leash, and her high heeled boots snapping the floor as well, though more loudly.
"Guys?" she said, smiling warmly with her narrow lips that resembled a rosebud. However, her turquoise eyes were faded like a corpse's, and devoid of any emotion. "I just remembered the last time I took Laurence out was yesterday evening. I need to go. And I'm going to fetch some groceries too, so don't bother waiting for me. This is going to take a while."
Irene turned her head towards the voice, as much as she could with Evangeline’s arms around her. The woman was so tall, Irene could barely peek over her shoulder, but when she did, she saw another viera woman on the doorway. Now this was... curious? How many people were there, calling this lousy hole ‘a home’?
The newcomer was a complete opposite to the viera holding her. Pale skin... straight hair pulled up on a thick ponytail, and dead eyes behind those round glasses smeared with black. The overall impression of the woman was apathetic, even with the beautiful dress and red-painted lips. A junkie most likely... and by the looks of it... a prostitute.
“Well... good morning to you too...” Irene said.
At this point, Silke's expectations of the other two and especially Iris had sunken so deep one would've needed a shovel... or no, a digger, to dig them back up to daylight. However, this was the new low. This was the peak of insolence. First Iris had the nerve to strut here, bragging about her fock partner, and now she was behaving like Silke would've interrupted their affectionate moment in her own kitchen.
Instead of giving the lingerie to Iris, Silke squeezed them into her leash free fist and hurled them onto the floor, next to their feet.
"Oh for fock's sake!" she could no longer remain polite. "You two damsels better drag your asses out of my place before I return if you value those pretty faces of yours!"
With that, she flung the door open, marched out with the excited shiba, and slammed the door shut behind her with such power that it made the windows jingle.
Irene stared at the viera’s sudden outburst, wincing, as the door was slammed shut. Her gaze traveled from the door to the rather slutty lingerie on the floor, and up to Evangeline. “Your wife, I presume?”
Evangeline removed her arms the moment it was requested. She was almost immediately overwhelmed by just how much everything had come crashing down in just the last few minutes. Crying... heartbreak... she could deal with that, and take it in stride. Maybe. For now.
But she had thought...she had thought there were only two of them. What in Halone’s name was she supposed to do now…? She could only hope that what worked last time would work again. As Silke left in a huff, Eva called out to her, hoping she would stop, but she was already well on her way down the stairs, the sound of the door slamming most likely preventing Silke from hearing her regardless.
“Wait, Silke! She’s not…”, she trailed off, realizing how fruitless it was to say ‘not Iris’ given that Silke was long gone already. She was upset... not just upset, but fuming. Evangeline hoped she could do something... but for fuck’s sake if this wasn’t more important right now, she didn’t know what was.
Evangeline was taken aback at not-Iris’ statement, wondering how those dots in particular had decided to connect in her mind. She blushed slightly, mumbling: “N-no...she’s...she’s your best friend. You brought me here to introduce me to her.” She shook her head slowly.
“More to the point…” Eva looked into not-Iris’ eyes. Once again... it was so alien. So not Iris. The spark, the flame that sat beneath the lakes of purple was unusual. There wasn’t a hint of Iris left.
“Iris... are you there? Can you hear me? Come back to me...please…”, she pleaded, hoping desperately that it would work. She was afraid of what would happen... Iris had left because of Silke. Evangeline wasn’t enough. Just like she had always been... not enough. Insufficient.
Irene kept her purple eyes nailed onto the viera infront of her. This situation was absurd. Quite intriguing, but absurd... ‘This woman is mad as a cuckoo clock’, she thought to herself, while following the other’s pleas, calling for someone named ‘Iris’. Oh, how she wanted to open this lady’s head, just to see what was going on inside it... And if this was Irene’s dream... would the red-head even mind a little poking around her brain? Such an intriguing case...
“Wait, wait, wait...”, Irene said finally, her voice calm, like a surface of a lake after a storm had ended. “...First of all... I dont know who this ‘Iris’ is... I also have no idea who the woman who just walked out was. I have never seen her before. What I think, girl, is that you are going through a mild case of psychosis... most likely triggered by your wife, finding us together. My name is Irene... And I have never been here before. Honestly? I still believe this is some mindless dream, but in case its not... I’m willing to help you out... If I can, that is.”
A weird smile played on Irene’s lips. A smile that did not reach the eyes. The eyes were cold, and lifeless, except the small foxfire looming behind the purple pools. She placed her hand, or Iris’ hand onto Evangeline’s shoulder. “I think we should go, before your loved one returns. Seeing her now, might just mess your little head even more than it already is.”
Iris’ eyes didn’t change. She didn’t wake up... or gain control... like she had before. Usually Iris was desperate to fight to the surface. She had such a strong will. Which meant... which meant this time... she didn’t want to come back. Eva wasn’t enough. She was never enough. She was never what anyone wanted.
Her breath came fast and ragged, such that she was almost hyperventilating. Trying desperately to contain herself, she listened to the not-Iris speak. Offer to ‘help’ her. Flash her a lifeless, lightless smile. A not-Iris smile. Evangeline couldn’t help herself anymore, and burst into tears. Sobbing into her hands, she was able to squeak:
“Y-yeess... w-we should g-go…”
Nodding her head slowly, she gasped for breath, trying to see the other woman through the tears. Maybe this was the best way to do things... she couldn’t let the not-Iris get away from her. Maybe she could get her back to house Blacksoul, and seek help from its lord, or at least Arsene.
“I... I have a place... a p-place we can go…,” she whispered between whimpers. “J-just give me a moment t-to... com-compose myself…”
Irene reached for her small incredient pouch, but it was not there... Thinking about it further, these were not even her clothes. The style was rather decent, so she could have very well picked them, but... it was not what she would usually wear. Quickly she went through the pockets of a jacket she had over the long black dress, but the only thing she could find was a pack of cigarettes, and a lighter. No sign of her pouch.
She had hoped to give the weeping woman something to calm her nerves, but it was no use. ‘What happened to me anyway? Something does not sum up...’ The pale viera ended up to offer the pack of smokes towards Eva.
“These are yours? ...Wait a moment.” Irene lit a cigarette, drawing from it deep, and muttering words, her eyes closed. The words were barely audible, and did not sound like any language Evangeline understood.
Smoke was running over her lips with the words, and soon it gained a very faint glow. Irene leaned towards Eva, blowing the glowing smoke right into her mouth.
Evangeline was struggling to think straight. She didn't have much control over herself... her emotions were too much to contain right now. So intense were her feelings that she barely even noticed Irene take a drag of a cigarette and blow a lungfull of oddly colored smoke into her mouth. Her breath halted, and she immediately felt her lungs constrict, unfamiliar with the new sensation she was experiencing. Instinctively, though, she took a deep breath in, accepting the strange smoke into her body without realizing it.
Immediately, she felt a strange calm wash over her, as if her fears and worries had been constrained to a place just below the surface of her mind. She could still feel them beating at her, trying to break down the door, but they were restrained for now. She shook her head, and wiped her eyes.
"Whaat... what was that? What did you just do...? And how did you do it? Iris didn't have... she didn't have any magic."
“I still dont know who this ‘Iris’ is, who you keep talking about, but I have few tricks up my sleeve”, Irene reminded. “Just try to stay calm. The effect is rather light, especially as I did not have my own incredients. But at least you are breathing again. Thats good.”
Irene picked up the mug of cocoa, and emptied it, before finishing the smoke. The cold, dead smile was still lingering on her lips, as she threw the pack of cigarettes to Eva, and walked past the woman, and towards the door, Silke had slammed shut only a moment earlier.
“Dont cry for your girl... She will come back to you, if its meant to be. Now shall we?” she nodded towards the door. “You have not told me your name yet.”
Evangeline caught the cigarette pack. She felt falsely calm. It was such an alien feeling to her. That she should be so heartbroken and at the same time so controlled in the face of it was highly unusual. Her thoughts moved through her mind, tasting it and testing it as one would test a cut in one’s mouth, touching it with their tongue to see if it hurt. So enthralled was she with her sudden state of being that she almost forgot to answer the not-Iris’ question.
“Hello... my name is Evangeline. Evangeline Cross. Thank you... for whatever that was. As it seems that I have failed, and that we may be together for a time, perhaps I could do my best to furnish you with some information. Let’s... let’s walk and talk, shall we?”
Eva wandered towards the door, already starting to feel the despair creep back into her heart. She needed help... she needed Silke. She needed Silke to help her get Iris back. The viera was certainly gone for now, but perhaps Evangeline could return on another day. She would find a way to bring Iris back to her... she had to. She just hoped that it would be soon.
Eva opened the door, letting in a draft of dry, cold air. She motioned for the not-Iris to exit the building ahead of her, and stepped through the doorway behind her, shutting it behind her with a soft click.