Anecdotal Inspiration
anecdotal inspiration
Joshua x writer!Reader (anxiety edition)
3444 words, fluff
Summary: Joshua finds out who’s been writing books for the children in the Hideaway. It’s you, unfortunately.
Author’s note: Joshua who loves to read and reader who loves to write has been in front of me the whole time. I have been but a blind fool
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“Pardon me, but are you the one who wrote those?”
It had all started about a year ago. You had always been a daydreamer, maybe a little airy-headed, and you often found yourself penning down idyllic fantasies down into tattered notebooks since young. Growing up, you’d filled thousands of torn pages with your whimsical stories, leaving them half-complete before you began a new one, and it was a hobby that had followed you into adulthood. Now that you lived in the Hideaway, you surprisingly found yourself having more time for it. Embarrassing to admit, but you weren’t the most capable on the field, so you often had quick and short assignments.
And then one day you’d accidentally left one of your notebooks open at the library while searching for other books, and Harpocrates had chanced upon it. You had vehemently denied any relation to the notebook, and Harpocrates who had seen you walk in with it and place it on the table of course hadn’t believed you at all, but instead of mocking you or your scrawls, he had offered a suggestion with a wise smile. The children at the Hideaway, although only a few of them, didn’t have much to read. Children’s storybooks weren’t a priority to obtain, so they usually just had the same few to recycle over and over. Why not write new ones for them? Your handwriting was neater than sufficient, he had said, and your writing was pleasant.
Not knowing how to turn down his proposition, and also not being totally against it, you had agreed. Harpocrates then dedicated a row at the bottom of the shelf in one of the corners for you. It felt a little improper to you—there was no title on the cover since it was a notebook, only on the first page in your handwriting, and the books were usually worn out a little, but every time you slotted a new one onto the shelf, a few days later the children would come bounding to you with praises and enthuses of joy. Harpocrates must’ve told them it was you. You didn’t really mind.
Except, now, Joshua Rosfield had caught you sliding in your newest finished piece onto the bottom shelf.
“Uh—!” You managed a strangled noise.
You had never spoken to him before. Clive had brought him in a few weeks ago and introduced him in the Ale Hall one day, and you had bowed your head in greeting, and that was pretty much the only interaction you had with him. He mostly kept to himself, too. To be honest, he looked much too ethereal and you were afraid that if you stood too long around him you’d be incinerated to ashes just by his aura, so you didn’t try to approach him either.
Needless to say, you really wanted to run away. You stared up at him, wide-eyed.
He cocked his head inquisitively, and then you noticed in one of his hands was clutched a notebook that you’d finished writing in and put on the shelf for the children a few months ago. You hoped Leviathan would awake from its dormancy and swallow you whole right that instant.
“I’m sorry. I was just wondering if you are the author of those books,” he repeated, as if you didn’t hear him the first time.
Shoving your new book into the shelf, you leapt to your feet without meeting his eyes.
“Sorry—I have to go somewhere!”
“Ah, wait—” he began, but you didn’t let him finish.
Bowing your head and staring at the floor, you bolted right past him and out of the library.
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You escaped back into the dormitories, the largest common area in the Hideaway and where you figured it’d be harder for someone to locate you. Returning to your room was an option, but not one that you entertained; you’d been cooped up in there for hours in the early half of the day, revising your story before publishing it in the little corner in the library, so you were reluctant to go back again.
In hindsight, maybe you shouldn’t have run away and heard Joshua out. He had seemed curious about them, even if he completely wasn’t their target audience. It could’ve been nice hearing an adult’s opinion on your storybook, too… Or, alternatively, maybe he’d been very unimpressed by your books and was about to tell you off for wasting space in the library and to make way for some real books. Oh, god. You felt like you were going to vomit. You stopped walking through the corridor and paused to lean your head against the wall, focusing on your breaths.
“Miss!”
It was a young, chipper voice. Blinking, you removed yourself from your pathetic posture, standing up straight, and looked down. The children, your loyal recipients of your books, were eagerly jogging towards you.
“Miss!” They tugged at your long skirt. “Is there a new book yet?”
“Are you writing a new book?”
“I want to read a new story, Miss!”
“Hey, now…” You reached down to carefully pat one of the boys on his head. Children were a little easier to manage, you found. Or maybe it was because they adored you. “I just put a new one on the shelf, actually.”
They were positively beaming. “You did?”
“What’s it about this time? Is it romance?”
The girls in particular asked you that question fairly often, but you found yourself quite hopeless at it. Perhaps it was because you’d never had anything going on in your life romantically before, but the words just wouldn’t come out. How were you to describe what it felt like being in love, anyway?
Grimacing, you shook your head. “It’s an adventure story.”
“Oh, another one!”
“I wanted to read a love story, too…” One of the boys was pouting.
You laughed, gingerly tugging them off your skirt. “Maybe sometime.”
With hopeful glints in their eyes, they turned and began making their rambunctious way to the library, no doubt about to fight over the single unread copy on the shelf. You watched them leave with a faint smile, waving to their retreating backs, before frowning and sighing.
Really, how were you supposed to describe love?
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Maybe some of the books in the library had an answer for you.
So, the next day, you returned with a notebook, this one used to pen down ideas rather than hold finished tales, set on finding some sort of inspiration from some book.
Unfortunately, Joshua was standing at one of the shelves.
Of course, it wasn’t uncommon for him to be around. You usually waltzed past him, and, being too lost in the sprawling ink of the book, he usually didn’t notice you, or you assumed so. The last encounter had certainly… well, shaken things up, to put it in a crudely nice manner.
Stopping a few paces behind him, you shifted awkwardly, before clearing your throat. “Um, Lord Rosfield.”
Joshua looked up, turning his head gracefully to look at you. You were absolutely jealous. When someone interrupted you when you were deep in thought, you would always jump and freeze up like a frightened chocobo in a completely unflattering way.
“Yes?” Without missing a beat, he added, “Simply ‘Joshua’ would suffice.”
“Right, well, Joshua.” It sounded foreign on your tongue. “You see, about yesterday…”
You diverted your gaze from him to the floor, only catching the view of him in your peripheral vision. Ugh. This was so horrible.
Joshua blinked, turning to face you fully.
You moved your tongue about in your mouth almost peevishly, like you had something stuck between your teeth.
“When we met at the library yesterday…”
“Oh, I’m sorry about that,” he unexpectedly said. You stopped and looked back at him. He wore an apologetic smile. “I must’ve disturbed you—”
“No!” You shrank back immediately. You hadn’t meant for that outburst.
Joshua looked a little taken aback. “Ah, no…?”
“No,” you repeated, almost stupidly. Hugging your notebook to your chest, you bowed your head. “I—I must’ve come off as rude yesterday. I—it wasn’t my intention, I was just… well, I’m sorry.”
The words tumbled out of you in a rush before you could change your mind. Anyhow, that should get your message across. You raised your head hesitantly.
Joshua waved a hand dismissively. “No worries. You had something to tend to, if I remember correctly.”
No, there had been nothing to tend to at all. “...That’s right.”
“I hope you finished it with ease.” The smile he flashed at you was so brilliant you thought you might melt into a puddle of goo. “I was curious about the books in that corner. You’re the one who’s been writing them, I take it?”
In that instant, your brain fired a million thoughts simultaneously. What if you lied to him and said you were helping someone else? Then he’d ask you who you were helping. What if you said you had just finished reading it and were putting it back? No, reading a children’s storybook at your age was much too embarrassing.
Eventually, you settled on a sullen, “...Right, it’s me.”
On second thought, maybe writing a children’s storybook was worse than reading one.
But Joshua’s eyes only sparkled the same way the children’s eyes had the previous day. He took a step towards you. You uneasily took one step back, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“Harpocrates told me someone had been writing for the children, you see,” he said, closing the book he’d been reading shut. You had never taken Harpocrates as a traitorous old man, but life was full of surprises. “I thought it was a wonderful idea, so I had a look at some of them. I hope you don’t mind.”
You minded very, very much. “No, it’s alright.”
“They’re very well-written,” Joshua continued, painfully enthusiastically. “The plotlines are simple, but novel. Most of the premises appear quite similar at first, but the ideas are actually all unique and fresh when you properly read into it, aren’t they? And the characters—they’re all so distinct and likeable in their own way once you really get to know them. Even when some of them come off as standoffish at first, they all have their own deeply thought out motives.”
You were holding on for dear life. “Uh… um…”
“And you took great care writing these for children, didn’t you? It’s all handwritten, but they’re all very neat. I spotted not a single mistake while looking through them. And the language used, the words you chose, your style of writing—they’re catered to the children, but even as an adult, it’s hardly painful to read. It was a delightful experience, if I had to describe it.”
“Well… thanks,” you managed feebly. Leviathan, any moment now…
“I’ll be looking forward to your next volume, too.”
“Right, thank you…”
But you had to admit: all your effort, every second of care that you had spent at your desk, hand cramping, felt like it hadn’t gone unnoticed by him. And it felt a little nice.
Joshua tilted his head at you like he hadn’t been off on a tangent praising you seconds before. “So, what brings you to the library? I don’t imagine you already have another one completed.”
You started. Right, your original purpose. “No, I don’t. I came to…”
It’d be a terribly awkward time to yank out a romance novel off the shelf and start meticulously studying it.
“...I came to research something for my writing.” Not a lie.
Joshua’s smile lit up even more, if that were even possible. “Oh? What about?”
You cleared your throat, even though it was empty. “Just… stuff.”
“Would you like me to help you find anything?” He leaned towards you.
“No… thank you.”
“Alright.” He leaned back, and you finally took that as an opportune moment to leave. As soon as you turned, his hand shot out to grab your arm. You almost flinched. “Pardon my rudeness. I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Joshua, Clive’s brother.”
Yes, you knew. You introduced yourself in a mutter.
Joshua let go of your arm. “Pleased to meet your acquaintance.”
You looked away sheepishly and mumbled something vaguely similar back.
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Weeks had passed since then. Now that that embarrassing introduction was out of the way, you found it much easier to slip into the library. Harpocrates always welcomed you, and even if Joshua was there, he didn’t bother you much. At most, upon first seeing you, he would quiz you on what was upcoming in your latest story. You entertained him as best as you could, and surprisingly, you found his questions becoming easier and easier to answer, but not because he was the one who changed. You never really saw him around the romance section, so you could always read in peace.
Or that was how it was supposed to be.
One sunny day, you had arrived at the library with your notebook in tow, as usual, and Joshua began asking you questions again, both of you sat down at a table, in a way that reminded you of the children who adored your books.
And then, out of nowhere, very casually: “Are you trying to write a love story?”
You choked on air.
Joshua frowned. “I’m sorry. Did I have the wrong impression?”
You stared at him, aghast.
“It’s just that you’ve been frequenting the section where most of the romance novels are kept, so I thought…”
He’d been watching you?
Admittedly, he’d been a good friend to you. He was always considerate and never pushed to overstep any of your boundaries. He was just… nice to be around. Like being near a campfire in the freezing winter. You could forgive it.
You folded your arms and looked away. “It’s—something like that. I guess.”
With that, he wore his excited smile again. “Really?”
Restraining a groan, you nodded. You did not look at him. “The children have been pestering me about one for a while, so…”
“I see. They’re at that age, I suppose.” Really? To you, they still felt all too young. “I might be able to help you in that department. I’ve read a number of them myself.”
“You have?”
You looked at him dubiously. He looked much too eager to help, leaning over in his seat.
“Yes, I have.” He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. If it were you, you would’ve died of embarrassment.
He certainly had never struck you as that type. “I’ve never seen you reading one, though…”
Joshua shook his head. “Not when you’re around. You would prefer to remain undisturbed when reading those, wouldn’t you?”
You had never said that out loud, but he was spot on. Biting on your bottom lip, you looked down at the table. “Yeah, I guess so…”
“How about it? Would you like my input?”
Something about receiving a lecture about love from Joshua made you feel queasy. “It’s… It’s okay. Thanks for the offer.”
“Alright.”
The fact that he was into romance novels surprised you. He usually had his head buried in some history book, although to be fair, he had just mentioned purposefully being aware of you when you had come to do your… studying…
This felt more shameful by the second. You slumped in your seat.
Joshua reached over to grab one of your hands on the table worriedly. “Are you feeling alright?”
You straightened your posture again. “I’m fine,” you blurted out, drumming your free fingers on the tabletop. The palm of the hand under Joshua’s was starting to feel sweaty. “Could I ask you something?”
He canted his head. “Of course.”
“It might be offensive.”
He pulled his mouth to the side doubtfully. “Go ahead.”
You opened your mouth, wrangled down the hesitation down your throat, and tried to look him in the eyes, but settled on the space between his brows.
“Why are you so interested in reading my storybooks? They’re for children…” Then you immediately added, “Not—Not that there’s anything wrong, with that, of course, it’s just… a surprise? No other adults read them… except Harpocrates, but that’s him. I guess. Don’t get me wrong—I’m really flattered that you enjoy them, but I was just curious.”
Joshua blinked at you owlishly. “That must be the longest I have heard you spoken in one breath.”
“That’s not… Could you answer the question?”
Joshua retrieved his hand to rest his cheek on it, elbow propped up on the table, looking at the ceiling thoughtfully. A finger on your hand that had been occupied until recently twitched. You felt like you could be honest with him. But it wasn’t too much of an invasion of privacy, was it? Maybe you should retract your question if he didn’t feel comfortable. You would hate for him to be put on the spot.
He finally looked down back at you. “Has Clive told you anything of our mother?”
Was he dodging the question? That would’ve been fine, but you didn’t know why he was bringing in another heavy topic. Word on the grapevine spread to you that their mother had killed herself in a fit of hysteria right in front of her sons, after all. Clive, personally, had said nothing to you about her, though.
“Not really, no.”
“...Of course.” Uncharacteristically, Joshua looked down at the table. Usually you were the one to be doing that. You tilted your head. “She had always wanted for me to be the best in every way. I was already sickly as a child, and she prohibited me from overexerting myself on battlegrounds. She often ordered me to stay within the walls of the castle as well.”
She sounded awful, but you couldn’t ascertain his feelings for his mother with his vague language, so you held your tongue.
“I found solace in reading. I enjoyed books written for children, of course, being one—but my mother didn’t appreciate it as much.” He was wearing a forlorn smile. “She wanted no risk of my future position as the Archduke. At her insistence, I was to read less of those ‘silly stories’ and more of educational books.”
You felt personally insulted at that one. “She sounds a little rude.”
At the sound of your voice, Joshua lifted his head, eyes almost bleary like he’d woken up from a bad dream. “Perhaps she was.” Again, vague. He was still smiling—this time, it reached his eyes. “To answer your question, I’m not quite sure yourself. If I had to guess, perhaps reading them feels like making up for the lost time I had as a child?”
And then, catching you completely off guard, he snatched one of your hands from the table and clasped it with both of his hands. You did not have time to react.
“Thank you for writing them.”
Even through the gloves, his hands felt very warm.
You were suddenly acutely aware of how softly his golden locks fell over his face, the deep lapis of his probing eyes—every ridge and feature of him was striking you with vivid clarity.
You stood up from your seat abruptly, pulling your hand away and folding your arms tightly.
“It’s—It’s no problem. Sorry, but I should really get going.”
With a brisk walk out of the library faster than ever before, you forced yourself to ignore how warm your face was getting.
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“Miss, you did it!”
You had just returned from some field work, exhausted, sweaty, and generally feeling like you needed a hot bath, when the children had crowded you once again. It was right in the middle of the Hideaway, and even though there weren’t that many people around at this time, you still raised a finger to your lips to sign the children to lower their voices.
As usual, they paid no heed to you. They came and tugged at your skirt again. “You wrote about love!”
Behind, one of the boys feigned a disgusted expression. He’d grow out of it, probably.
You took turns patting their heads as always. “Did you enjoy it?”
Of course, you were in no position to write a full-blown romance novel, and that most likely wasn’t ideal for children, either. Instead, you’d just written another adventure story, like you always did, but this time dashed with garnishes of intimate feelings. Not enough to be the main focus, but enough to be visible.
“Yeah!” Then, looking a bit confused: “Why did you suddenly write about it, though?”
The sunlight streaming through the cracks of the Hideaway looked golden, too.
You inclined your head down at them and gave a silly grin.
“Maybe… you could say I had a little inspiration?”
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Somethings Never Change, Feelings Never Fade 2/?
Word count: 1.9K
TW: mentions death, smoking
Part 2: All things come in due time
The Hideaway
It’s been five years since that fateful day that I joined Cid. I was quite surprised when I had realized that Isabelle had been planning for me to join Cid all along. He had known about me for quite some time and was only waiting on my coming of age to take me under his wing. From there he trained me daily in combat but much to my dismay it seemed my talent lay more in medicine. I knew just enough combat to be a competent fighter but he thought it best I become an apprentice to his healer, Tarja. However, in certain instances he would allow me to scout alongside his right hand Gav, an incredible man with a knack for literally sniffing out leads but most of my days were spent with Tarja. Not to mention, being around Cid and Gav had me develop some unsavory habits which earned a daily admonishment from Tarja.
“Must you smoke in here?” Tarja chides sardonically.
“Apologies but if I’m not allowed at least one teensy pint of ale to soothe my frustrations then surely a quick smoke can suffice.” I grumble, pulling the cigar from my lips and putting it out immediately in an ashtray.
Groaning in slight agitation, she grabs the bridge of her nose to gently massage it. “Believe you me, I would love a drink but who knows what will be waiting for us when Cid returns.”
I sigh at her words, still fatigued from working overnight due to the crowd of bearers Cid had brought in the night prior. Tarja and I hadn’t slept a wink and the nerves were starting to get to me. I felt myself becoming more disgruntled with the lack of sleep. Sitting down on one of the beds, I place my elbows on my knees and hang my head.
“Ugh Tarja… Can I at least take a quick nap? If I can’t have a drink or smoke please let me rest for five minutes.” I whine as I look up to her with pleading eyes and a slight pout.
Caving in, she came to stand in front of me patting my head, “Fine, fine. I’ll wake you in five minutes. No more, no less.”
“Ah heavens above! You’re so good to me,” I beam as I hug her around the waist. She chuckles at my childness then pulls away as she pushes her hand against my forehead.
“Lay down before I change my mind.” She huffs as I swing my legs on to the bed and fall back onto the pillow with my hands behind my head. “I will wake you in five minutes.”
I nod my head lazily allowing the fatigue to set in and relax my body.
- Feeling a gentle nudge at my shoulder, I groan and roll to my side. The sleep was too good, I couldn’t get up. Not yet at least.
“Come on, get up. You know that was more than five minutes, Enza.”
“Yeah, so…?” I mutter trying my best to continue resting.
“Come on Enza. Cid should be returning shortly. I need you to start brewing some more tonics. Who knows, he may bring back more bearers again.” She’s nudging me more and more until I finally give in and open my eyes. As usual, she’s looking at me with a slight scowl and her arms crossed. Stretching my arms and legs out, I take my time sitting up and let out a boisterous yawn.
Swinging my legs off the bed, taking my time attempting to collect my hazy thoughts. I yawn again and stretch my arms up feeling the joints pop, “Founders… I really needed that.” Finally standing up, I do my best to shake the drowsiness but with the many all nighters we had been pulling recently I knew this feeling was going to linger for a while.
Releasing a deep sigh I began my search around the infirmary for my mortar and pestle, trying to remember where I had put them. I was running low on herbs and hopefully with the return of Cid and Goetz they would have some supplies ready for use. That last group of injured bearers nearly depleted all of the inventory in the infirmary.
“Tarja, you know we’re nearly out of herbs… Also, I found my mortar but I can’t seem to find my pestle… Hmm where did I put it?” I groan, digging through drawer after drawer, “I know it’s somewhere…”
Tarja chuckles before coming to me and placing a hand on my shoulder, “It’s where you leave everything.”
I smile sheepishly as I scratch my head “In my chamber?”
“Exactly. Come, we can check with Charon to see if she has any supplies that we can use for now and also stop by your chambers.” Nodding in agreement, I follow Tarja out of the infirmary down the dimly lit halls of the Hideaway.
Who knew that the next place I would call home would be a dingy ruin.
As we traverse the halls it slowly becomes brighter as we near the main hall of the Hideaway. Finally making it to the stairs, Tarja notices three men standing around, idly chatting. Cid, Goetz, and some random soldier.
“You’re back.” Tarja drawls as she slowly descends the steps with me in tow.
“Ah, Tarja… Enza.” Cid replies looking to us with a smile.
Before I can greet him Tarja is speaking, “And this is the Dominant?”
Cid nods gesturing to the passed out woman on Goetz’s back, “Out cold since we found her. I was hoping you might give her a look over.”
Not sparing a moment Tarja signals for Goetz to follow her, “Alright. Goetz, get her upstairs.”
Seeming a little flustered Goetz looks over to where Charon is currently preoccupied with the hound that had been following Cid around.
“B-But Nan wil–”
Cutting him off she rushes to Goetz pulling him along, “Don’t fret about Charon. I’ve taken care of her fee.”
“All of it?” Goetz questions, still reluctant to follow Tarja.
“Aye,” Tarja nods as she looks to me, “Enza, tend to Cid. Make sure he hasn’t done anything stupid to hurt himself.” And like that she’s ascending the stairs in a rushwith Goetz in tow.
“Of course.” I mumble turning back to Cid as he speaks to the soldier.
“You’ve nothing to worry about.” He reassures the soldier.
“He might not but I do, you old bastard. You know your curse is nearly at its limit! And I’ve half a mind to leave you be… but Tarja says otherwise.”
Cid chuckles coming to me with open arms showing that he was fully intact with no scars or wounds, “Me? I’m fine. A little lightning every now and then won’t kill me.”
I scoff slapping his chest, “Fucking hell every now and then is becoming too frequent. Let me have a look at you.”
Cid chuckles, raising his hands in mock defense, “A bit too early to be this pissy, eh?”
Huffing I lunge for him right as he grabs my shoulders now laughing loudly and trying to calm my already frayed nerves, “Relax lass! I promise I’m fine. How about you tend to our guest, maybe show him around the Hideaway,” Cid winks before backing away to show the man who stood awkwardly watching us.
I roll my eyes before focusing on the man behind him, the scowl instantly dropping from my face. My heart was racing and my ears full with the thrum of my heartbeat and my thoughts swimming.
“No… It can’t be… you’re dead.”
The man steps forward as if he’s also seen a ghost. It’s as if time stopped. Was this real..?
“Kadenza…”
“Clive… Is it really you? You’re… you-” I can’t find the words, a choked sob leaves my lips as I drop to my knees. He rushes to me and kneels, pulling me into a tight embrace.
“Kadenza… you’re alive… you made it out.” He whispers as he pulls back to examine my tear stained face. “I thought everyone was gone but you’re here. You’re safe.”
My shoulders heaved as sobs left my lips, “I can’t believe it’s you,” I threw my arms around his shoulders as he held me tightly, “Founders- I’ve missed you so much.” Pulling away I gaze into his eyes before pressing my forehead to his.
-
An unexpected reunion but quite welcomed. Shortly after my reunion with Clive I learned that the Dominant of Shiva was Jill. Both of them safe and here within my reach. For nearly thirteen years I had thought they were gone but they were here. They were alive and we all could finally have a proper reunion once Jill awakens... But even in that joyous moment their presence still couldn't fill the void that Joshua left. No matter how grateful I was for them to be alive and well, I couldn’t help but miss my childhood companion. The world somehow always felt emptier without his presence. I missed him.
Sitting outside, I watch as shadows cast on the entrance of the Hideaway. The cloudy sky is a nice blanket to cover the harshness of the sun while a gentle breeze makes its way through the valley.
“So you say it was another Eikon of fire that killed Joshua?”
Clive shifts beside me as he glances down at the palms of his hands, “Yes. That night at Phoenix Gate... Joshua primed and not too long after the second Eikon of flames appeared…” His open hands slowly clenched into fists as his face contorts in pain, “All I could do was watch …”
Reaching my hands out I place them over his own, hoping to soothe him even if just by a little, “It was not your fault, Clive.”
He doesn’t look at me, only shaking his head in disagreement. “I was his shield and I couldn’t protect him. He asked me to stay with him but I left his side thinking I was doing my duty… and he died… alone… begging for me. I can still hear his voice.”
“Oh Clive,” I embrace him and hold him close as his shoulders begin to tremble. “You only did what you could. Joshua wouldn’t want you to blame yourself and you know that.”
“I don’t know…” he mutters from where his head rests on my shoulder.
Drawing back from the hug, I hold him at a distance. The sorrowful expression he wore pierced my heart. I would never be able to understand how deeply that moment affected him but I knew I could share in his pain, for I missed the one I cherished most.
“Joshua was my dearest friend, Clive. I know with your strength you can avenge him. You’ll take down the fiend that took him from us… And when you’re done… You, me, and Jill can visit Rosalith to finally put his spirit to rest.”
Through wet lashes, Clive peers at me with a slight upward tilt to his lips. Not much of a smile but far better than the sullen look from before.
“I will find him. I promise.”
Rising from my spot, I stretch my hands into the air and release the breath that had been bottled up in my chest. I feel lighter.
“Give em hell when you do. Promise me that.”
I hear a deep chuckle from where Clive sits before he speaks, “Of course.”
cheat code
Joshua x Reader
1386 words, fluff, established relationship
Summary: Joshua isn’t eating his vegetables. Thankfully, you have a trick others don’t.
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“Do you think you could get Joshua to eat his carrots?”
Clive had approached you in the Ale Hall, somewhat hesitantly. Only a fool wouldn’t have figured out he was asking for a favour, so you had coaxed it out of him, and after a few reluctant sighs and furtive glances away, he finally blurted out the question.
You stopped chewing on your bread. “I beg your pardon?”
He shook his head. “I know it sounds ridiculous.”
“Well… it’s just sudden.”
“No, it is quite ridiculous, to be asking for your assistance in feeding my brother… vegetables.” Clive was frowning, but you were starting to find it amusing. “I’d turned a blind eye to it for the longest time, but Tarja and Jote have been more vocal about it recently.”
“Ah.” You dropped the piece of bread back onto your plate, leaning backwards. “And you ask me… because?”
You knew why, but you also knew Clive was funny to tease. He furrowed his brows. “Because you are his beloved?”
“Annnnnd..?”
Clive crossed his arms, eyes closed and heaved a sigh. “And you are the only one I could possibly count on to convince him.”
Your mouth stretched into a grin and you stood up, leaning forward to slap Clive on the arm. “Consider it done, Lord Rosfield!”
A string of grumbles left his mouth—probably something about always having to pay praises to you to get you to do something, but whatever. You had a very important assignment, and it was to deliver some very important nutrients to your very important, very adorable blond little prince.
You brought your arms up to stretch, taking a few paces forward. First, you weren’t a chef yourself, so you’d have to acquire an assortment of vegetables…
Before you could make a move on, Clive gripped your shoulder. You turned your head to glance back at him. He had an oddly grim look on his face, for the topic of vegetables.
“I know he can be stubborn. I won’t fault you if you fail.”
Yes, you knew, but you liked to think you were equally stubborn—or even more so. You grinned confidently. “Don’t worry. He can’t resist me.”
-------------
Unfortunately, it turned out that he could.
You’d found him at Harpocrates’, where you accurately guessed he was. Holding a plate with Joshua’s sworn enemy (carrots), you decided a blunt approach would be the simplest for now.
“Joshua, you need to eat these.”
He turned around the moment he heard your voice, soft blue eyes brimming with glittering excitement, which promptly died when his eyes fell on what you were holding.
“I’m sorry. I can’t do that.” Joshua turned away from you and back to his open book.
You blinked once, affronted by his initial rejection. You sidled up to his side, pressing your cheek against his shoulder.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“C’mon, they’re just a few carrots.”
“My sincerest apologies, but no.”
“Tarja and Jote said you should be eating them.”
Joshua just made a disgruntled sound. Of course! If he wouldn’t even listen to you, why would he listen to anyone else?
Tugging on his sleeve with a free hand, you tried again. “Clive wants you to eat them.”
“Is that so?” Joshua continued to flip another page in the book. So he would seal a horrible, eldritch entity inside of him for his own brother, but not eat a few carrot slices. You found the way Joshua weighed the severity of different circumstances odd.
Your simplest and most straightforward plan had clearly failed, but that was okay. You had backups. Pulling away from him, you folded your arms, careful as to not spill anything from the plate, and straightened your back, regarding him with rolled eyes.
“Then, I guess the almighty Phoenix trembles in fear in the presence of a few measly orange roots?”
That cracked a mirthful smile from Joshua, but he shook his head. “Very much so.”
“You are afraid of them?” you crowed.
“Petrified, even,” he agreed.
All of your backup plans were caving in. This man was not giving in. You huffed.
Harpocrates suddenly raised a hand, drawing your attention. He smiled with that gentle old man smile that could convince two aggressive countries to come to a ceasefire, and gestured at your plate. “I apologise, but I’d prefer to not have any food near the books.”
“Oh!” Right, it had completely slipped your mind. You hadn’t intentionally ignored it; you’d just been so set on your assignment that it hadn’t crossed your mind. Sheepishly, you took a few steps back. “No, no, I apologise.”
You were about to leave, head hung low in temporary defeat, when Joshua closed the book he had been holding, slotting it back into an empty space on the shelf. He faced Harpocrates and bowed his head, a practised, poised gesture he always did when leaving, then turned to face you again, touching your arm. With the sweetest of smiles: “Shall we go?”
Words weren’t quite forming properly in your mind, so you just nodded. Your steps fell into sync with his as you left.
Sometimes he really caught you off guard.
But only for a few seconds. The moment you stepped foot out of the books’ territory, you swung around back at Joshua, pushing the plate towards him wordlessly. He looked down at it and raised a hand to slowly push it back towards you.
You looked away, huffing dramatically. “You must not love me anymore.” Then you glanced back at him for a reaction.
Brows knitted, he maintained his smile towards you. “That’s not true. Please don’t ever think that.” He leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to the side of your head.
You paused, blinking up at him.
Joshua tilted his head and continued walking.
Foul, unfair, beautiful demon…
Running forward a few steps to catch up with him, you sulked, nibbling at the tines of the fork you had brought along. Yes, you had known he was going to be stubborn… and you had resolved to be even more stubborn… but it wasn’t going to go anywhere with just brute force, clearly.
Joshua interrupted your thoughts. “Isn’t there anything else you would rather have me do?”
Most of the time you had a quip ready, but this time you were too lost in thought to. “Let me think about it.”
“I would do anything else for you,” he said earnestly. You believed it.
“It doesn’t matter because you won’t do this for me.”
You were just being dramatic, and he knew it.
The two of you were walking somewhere. You didn’t know where exactly, but it happened often enough where Joshua would be heading to one of his destinations and you followed him around just to be by his side. You liked to think his pace slowed to a leisurely stroll whenever you did. Sometimes you’d also get to steal a kiss or two on these walks…
Oh, you had an idea.
You skewered one of the carrot slices with the fork and popped it into your mouth. Reaching out to Joshua, you tugged on his arm to get him to stop walking. He obediently ceased and cast a curious gaze down at you.
One of your hands was occupied with the plate, so you grabbed his chin with your free hand, thumb pressed against the front of it and index finger tucked behind it, tilted your head back and pressed your lips against his before he could react. He squeaked a muffled sound of surprise; you tumbled the carrot from your mouth to his without much resistance. Then you sealed your lips with a cheeky smile against his mouth, blinking triumphantly into his confused eyes. It took a couple of seconds, but you felt his mouth move in a chew, then swallow.
Finally, you pulled away.
“You’ll eat all of them this way, right?”
Joshua gave you a blank look. He tilted his head backwards and stared at the ceiling thoughtfully, then down back at you. “Hm. I’m not quite sure about that.” He raised an index finger and pressed it against your lips. You resisted the urge to clamp your mouth over his pretty finger. “Would you like to try again?”
(It worked only another two times, and the rest of the afternoon was spent wrestling with him.)
update on joshua x reader fics: current wip is at 3.6k words and it's about halfway done...
progress with it has been erratic but i MIGHT be able to get it out in a week!!
better than yourself
Joshua Rosfield x writer!Reader
1005 words, fluff
Short fluffy fic for Valentine’s. Happy Valentine’s Day! It’s the same reader as anecdotal inspiration, but you don’t have to read it to read this one (but I would be very happy if you did :))
----------------
You sighed, leaning forward and bumping your head against the book in your hands.
Opposite you, Joshua gave you a curious look. “Is something the matter?”
This had been going on for a while: you often spent your free time scrawling down children’s stories in blank notebooks, and when you had finished, put them up in a quaint corner in the library for the children to peruse. There weren’t many books suitable for the young ones at the Hideaway. You would never have dared to initiate something like this yourself, but with Harpocrates’ kind, homely encouragement that you would almost accuse as manipulative, your hobby had found meaning in one of the lowest shelves that any child could reach.
Then you had an unexpected patron—the younger of the Rosfield brothers, no less—and he was somewhat of a busybody, and he’d become particularly sticky to you after finding out you were the author of those stories in the tattered notebooks. But if anybody asked you if you minded it, you wouldn’t say you did.
You turned the closed book over in your hands. It was a random book on the history of Valisthea that you’d picked off the shelf in hopes of finding an answer. “I’m looking for a word, but I can’t remember it…”
“Have you consulted the dictionary?”
“I don’t remember what letter it starts with, so that’s not helpful.” …You hadn’t come across as rude, had you? “Um, but thanks.”
Joshua didn’t look ruffled in the slightest. He slid his own book shut and propped his elbows up on the table. “Then, would you like to describe it to me? I might know what word it is.”
He most definitely did. Although you’d done your own fair share of reading, it was hard to deny that Joshua was much more well-read than you, or anyone else at the Hideaway. Sometimes he’d dive into a monologue patterned with flowery sentences, but maybe you’d given him one too many confused looks, because he had pretty much stopped doing that with you. But those alone were enough to prove to you he had picked up far more books than you—although that was to be expected, considering he had been raised in royalty.
You let the book in your hands slide down onto the table, chewing on your bottom lip. “Well… it’s part of a castle.”
Joshua nodded attentively. “I grew up in one.”
Oh, you’d forgotten that. “It’s something like a tower..? I think? They’re usually along the walls—at least I think they are.”
“Are you thinking of a turret?”
Right—that was the word. “That’s—That’s the word. Thanks.”
“Delighted to be of help.” He leaned forward. “What did you need it for?”
“Are you asking for spoilers?”
He puffed his cheeks indignantly, almost like a child. “It’s been a fair while since you’ve published anything, so you will have to pardon me for being curious.”
Published was far too fancy of a term for you.
You glanced down, turning your wrist over experimentally. “Tarja said my wrist hasn’t been good, so I haven’t written much for a while.”
“Oh?” Faint alarm was tinged in his voice, despite him usually trying to keep a composed facade, something you had picked up on yourself. “What happened?”
Apparently, you’d been writing too much. It had prompted a cramp in your hand and after paying a visit to Tarja, who had suggested the most probable cause was your extended periods of time jotting away at your desk. Which you had initially found weird, since it had never happened before. Then after some reflection, you had realised in the past few weeks, particularly after a specific someone discovering your secret of writing those books, you had been feeling too motivated to settle down; sometimes you’d even forego a good night’s worth of rest to spend the time whittling away at words.
Not that you would ever say any of that out loud, so the long and short of it was: “I wrote too much—so my hand hurts.”
Joshua frowned. “Is it an injury?”
“Something like that… I think.” You hoped you weren’t wrong.
“I could heal you, if you’d like?” he offered.
Injured hand darting in front of your chest reflexively, you shook your head. “I couldn’t—you should save your powers for other… stuff.”
He didn’t seem to agree. “What better stuff would prevail over this?”
“People who are actually being useful on the field?” you tried.
This time he frowned at you. “Perhaps you don’t think your contributions are befitting of any reward?”
That wasn’t… “I don’t mean that, but…”
You weren’t sure what you were trying to say, either, so you trailed off. For a long moment, there was a stuffy silence between the two of you. Although you were terrible at conversing with others, Joshua always seemed to know what to say at every moment, so stretches of quiet didn’t happen with him often. Now that there was one, it felt gut wrenchingly nauseating and you contemplated excusing yourself to the toilet so you could retreat back to your bunk and shut the door and wither and die in a corner.
When he finally spoke again, it was soft. “I won’t do anything that you aren’t comfortable with. But as for your implications that your writing and your work aren’t important, those I can’t agree with. Reading your stories holds more importance than just a moment of respite for the children, and myself, as well—and if you allowed the others to peruse them, I’m sure they’d come to the same conclusion.”
Joshua held out his hand across the table.
“So, please don’t think any less of yourself.”
You stared at his outreached hand.
Slowly, from in front of your chest, to over the table, to the palm of his hand, you reached back out to him.
It was funny. You had never even said it out loud, and maybe you hadn’t even realised it yourself, so how, you wondered, did Joshua seem to know you better than yourself?
Current WIP For @cosmic-metanoia's prompt of "I wonder how Joshua, Gav, & Mid were getting along on the Enterprise when separated from Clive and Jill"
Gav watched the massive bird swoop in front of them, placing himself firmly between the Enterprise and Odin. Not to say that Clive’s little brother wasn't brave, he was just damned near more daft than Clive himself. Constantly throwing himself into the same danger as his brother, but with a quarter of the muscle mass and a bad lung. But this? This was insanity. Odin had just dismantled his brother, the Eikon slayer, into a shred of ribbons the week before. And this skinny son of a bitch was the one who pulled him back together. Mending every limb, as if trying to un-carve a butchered bird. And by some miracle, up to his eyeballs in blood, the bastard had pulled it off. And now he was standing before Odin, ready for his turn. Who the hell did he think was going to patch him up? Is he out of his fucking mind?! Gav wondered, tossing a bucket of water onto the last fire and then scrambling to the bow to watch. No, of course he wasn't. He knew what he was risking. He knew he didn't stand a chance, just as Gav did, but he remembered the moment they'd noticed Odin appear. Joshua had moved instinctually in front of him and waved him away. He wasn't fighting Odin to win, he was fighting to keep him away from everyone else. Imagine that! The golden haired son of a duke that the breeze could knock over, and Gav cowered behind him like a little pup at the sight of Tharmr. That fucker better not die on our account!
little cuts and bruises
Joshua x Reader (Joshua with a crush vs incredibly socially unaware reader)
1988 words, fluff
I wanted to write 10 seconds of handholding but this happened instead.
---
“Tarja?”
You hadn’t heard the aforementioned stern lady barking at anyone, so when you poked your head into the infirmary, it wasn’t a surprise that she was nowhere to be seen. She would probably return in a matter of minutes, loaded with an onslaught of warranted naggings at the patients there. Your hands were still fully occupied with the herbs you had painstakingly scavenged for, and you didn’t quite feel like sitting around waiting for her, so you shouldered your way through the door and let yourself in.
Helping Tarja collect materials for her medicine was nothing new to you, anyway. For the most part, you knew where she kept what, so you might as well get started on keeping them. She would probably praise you, too, and the thought made you eagerly approach the drawers that were the medicinal treasury.
Pain streaked across your palm momentarily. You winced. A stalk from one of the herbs had dug into an open cut across your hand.
The most recent outing had been successful, but… of course it had been successful. You knew your way around a sword… well, maybe halfway around it? So it wasn’t your fault for running and rolling off a ledge to escape one of those giant monsters and bruising your palms terribly. Bruises were better than being probably dead. And one of the herbs you had been looking for was encased in a thorny bush, but you had been exhausted from running from the monster and just wanted to return to the Hideaway, so you had thrusted your hands through the spikes anyway. Your already worn out gloves failed to persevere and the thorns had sliced through them and right into the skin of your hands.
Injuring yourself was decently normal during scavenging, but you had to admit your hands were quite the bloodied sight this time.
…Tarja would probably scold you, too. Oh, well…
Before you reached the drawers, you caught sight of something rare.
“Oh.”
Joshua Rosfield, red scarf and gloves missing as they normally were when he was being treated, sat on the edge of a bed, was staring up at you, eyes wide like sparrow’s when a human approached it.
You clutched the herbs closer to your chest and bowed your head towards him slightly. “Joshua. Hello.”
A smile adorned his rosy lips as he mimicked you and bowed his head. “Hello. You’ve just returned, I take it?”
“Yes. I found all these… stuff.” Herbs, you scolded yourself inwardly. Sometimes you weren’t the best at talking. You lifted your arms slightly to gesture to them.
“Ah.” He nodded. “Thank you for all your hard work.”
He was working way harder than you, though.
You awkwardly nodded in reply and continued shuffling over to the drawer. Gingerly, you placed the herbs on top.
Your interactions with Joshua were limited, as were most people’s, you guessed. He kept to himself to a severe extent and didn’t speak much to the average Hideaway member. Not out of rudeness, you imagined. He never seemed at ease.
Because you reported directly to Clive, sometimes you did see and speak to Joshua. But only briefly, for the most part. You couldn’t quite recall any memorable events between the two of you–on your side, anyway. Maybe Joshua thought of you as an awkward, bumbling mess. Or maybe an incredibly helpful scavenger? Or maybe he thought nothing of you at all. It didn’t matter that much, you supposed. You hardly saw him. You addressed him by his first name since you addressed Clive by his first name, at his insistence, but you weren’t even sure if he knew yours.
A heavy cough snapped you out of your thoughts. Joshua was hunched over, hand shielding his mouth. You blinked, unsure of what to do for a second. (Get Tarja?) When blood dripped from his lips after he moves his crimson-stained hand, you rushed to kneel in front of him and touch his arm.
“Joshua–” What were you supposed to do? You knew the basics of medicine for minor cuts and wounds, but nothing about this deadly cough that plagued him.
Get Tarja. You scrambled to your feet.
Joshua reached out with his clean hand and grabbed your wrist, shaking his head. You paused.
“Tarja will be back soon.” He tilted his head up to lock his gaze onto yours, and for a moment, you noticed a bit too much how delicately his golden locks framed his face. He smiled wryly. “She’s left to retrieve something, but she said she won’t be long. I will be fine, I assure you.”
As you said, you knew nothing about this deadly cough that plagued him.
“Are you sure?” You squinted at him. “...You won’t run away again?” Tarja often complained about that.
“I won’t. As a matter of fact, she has taken my garments with her as hostage temporarily.”
Oh, the scarf and the glove. Not that that meant much. You imagined if someone burst into the infirmary screaming that Clive was in deep trouble, Joshua would leap out of the window and prime and Tarja’s rage later would be unassuageable. You knew that much about him.
But you weren’t a healer, and you probably wouldn’t help by meddling, so you nodded slowly. Maybe you could help wipe the blood off, though.
Looking around, you located a brown rag nearby on one of the tables. Neatly folded, so it should be clean. You stepped towards it, only to feel a tug on your wrist. You looked down. Joshua was still holding onto you.
Uh. “Um, excuse me.” With your free hand, you carefully pried his fingers off of you. Your cuts did not sting against his hands.
Joshua shrunk back, arm held in front of him almost defensively. He was frowning. “Are you in a rush?” Did he sound disappointed? You couldn’t clearly tell.
“Huh?” You furrowed your brows. “...No? I’m just getting…” You pointed at the cloth.
Joshua relaxed. “Oh, I see.”
You felt like it was hard to understand him at times.
You grabbed the cloth, returned, tousled your hand under it, then leaned forward to dab at his mouth softly. You ignored the way he was looking right at you with those vivid blue eyes of his. It was unnerving.
When you moved down to wipe his bloodied hand, he looked down, and suddenly bolted forward. You only had a split second to wonder if you somehow offended him before he grabbed both of your hands and turned them to face your palms upwards.
“What happened here?” he asked softly.
Your cuts and bruises were a nasty sight. And his hands felt so smooth and unblemished. How did he do it? They somehow reminded you of Torgal’s squishy paws.
You shrugged. “Went scavenging.” You tilted your head at the herbs you had deposited.
“And this happens normally?”
It was difficult to answer that, because you kept no track record of small things like these. “I guess so.” The grimace on his face told you he was not satisfied. “Someone has to go out and get them, right? We have a lot of fighters here, and they get hurt.”
“At your own expense?” he pressed, leaning closer to you.
You did not pull away, but you decided to stare at a spectacular corner of the room that didn’t have anything. “These aren’t that bad. Just a few days–and they’ll be all better… Tarja might be upset, but that’s all.” You were unsure why he was so upset over a few cuts and bruises across your hands.
Joshua was quiet. You shifted awkwardly, unsure of what to make of the silence, and glanced back at him.
Then he cocked his head, blinked slowly at you and smiled the same way someone would when reassuring a lost child. “I could help you, if you’d allow me?”
Did he know his way around these medicinal salves, too? Maybe it would be better than suffering a scolding from Tarja.
“Sure.”
Joshua began to stand up, and you took a step backwards to give him space. He turned your hands over and up so your palms faced him with his hands pressed against them, and interlocked your fingers with his.
You weren’t very sure what this was, but Joshua’s demeanor was known for sticking out like a sore, princely thumb. Groomed to become Rosaria’s archduke, and all. This could be some pre-treatment gesture they did in Rosarian culture or something. You had heard he had given Mid an awkward but well-meaning greeting, too.
The back of Joshua’s hands glowed, and only now you acutely remembered that he was the Phoenix’s Dominant, who had an uncontested healing prowess.
Flames unfurled from his hands and cozily cocooned around yours; it reminded you of drinking hot tea in a harsh winter. The bruises began to lighten, and your skin began to stitch itself together over the cuts. You stared, awed, watching the fire ripple across in waves of brilliant magic, then blinked up at him.
“Is this okay? I mean, the curse…”
He chuckled. “That price is much too small to deny rewarding the most hardworking and endearing member of our team.”
Your face felt warm. Part of it was because of the fire, you told yourself.
“That’s an overstatement, I think,” you mumbled.
“Is it? I don’t think so.”
You couldn’t think of a reply.
Soon, all the cuts and bruises had vanished and your hands looked like they hadn’t worked a day in the field. You withdrew your hands from his and turned them over and over again in wonder. Joshua leaned over slightly to join you in having a look at them.
Pristine. You could go back to your duties almost immediately, and you wouldn’t have to face the wrath of Tarja. You didn’t know how to express with words how grateful you were.
…Oh, right. Recently, you often saw Clive do this thing when he was thanking Jill. You had thought it was a bit too close, but they were both raised in Rosaria, so maybe it really was a royal Rosarian thing. (When you had asked Clive about it, he had said it was nothing, and then walked away strangely quickly.)
You leaned forward, standing on the tips of your toes just a little, and gently bumped your forehead against Joshua’s. Your eyes met his gaze.
“Thank you.”
…Hm, his face looked a little flushed. You guessed it was an aftereffect of using the Phoenix’s abilities.
The sound of his breathing somehow felt even louder in those few seconds. Then he drew back and dusted the hair out of your face with the back of his fingers.
“–Didn’t I tell you to stay in bed?”
You jumped backwards, swinging towards the door of the infirmary. Tarja was grunting at Joshua, as usual, and oddly empty-handed.
“My apologies.” Joshua made a half-smile, as if to appease her.
Her eyes fell on you, and she nodded, before she caught sight of the spoils you had retrieved earlier.
“Oh, thank the Founder,” she breathed, striding over to the herbs. “We’d just run out of these. I was looking to see if you’d come back. This one here,” she casted a dirty look in Joshua’s direction, “needs it urgently, you see.”
You started. “These were for him?”
“Of course. A guzzler of our medicinal supplies, that’s what he is.” She tipped her head at him. “You should thank your lifesaver.”
Joshua tilted his head, smile full of mirth. “It’s mutual, I suppose.”
“What are you blabbering about this time?” Tarja grumbled from sifting through the leaves.
She soon shooed you out of the infirmary, after letting you know Clive was looking for you again. You idly wandered down the corridor and stopped for a while to stroke a sleepy Torgal.
Maybe you should go get yourself more cuts and bruises on the next assignment, too. Just little ones.
say marco, i’ll polo
Jill x female!Reader
1564 words, fluff, established relationship
Warnings: depictions of violence
Summary: It seemed like whenever you called for her, she would always find you.
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You cradled your head atop a fence along the Hideaway’s exterior.
Some people had told you that they found the lake around the Hideaway dark, deep; scary. This was usually a description that came after you’d told them you found it relaxing—the stillness of the misty air and the tranquillity of the water surface reminded you all too much of someone. With your unusual fascination with the Hideaway’s surroundings, it took no one by surprise that it was the first place you’d go to when you needed to be comforted.
Which didn’t exclude that moment. You turned your head to lay flat against the top of the railing, ignoring the bustling that was going on in your peripheral vision.
Flashes in your head of bloodstained bodies replayed nonstop like a reel that had gone haywire.
You wanted to be alone.
Or, if you had to be with someone…
You sighed, and the way your chest heaved was almost painful.
“...Wish Jill was here…”
“Yes?”
You almost jumped out of your skin, whirling around, eyes widening with delight.
Jill, with a smile that could calm a rampaging behemoth: “You called for me, my dear lady.”
“Jill!” you squealed, then threw yourself at her with nothing but trust that she would catch you.
She did; her arms found your waist, securing them firmly, then spun you around. For that joyous moment, rife with giddiness, you forgot everything—everything about the Blight, everything about Ultima, everything about curses, bearers, everything about your recently failed mission—
Your stomach churned. Faltering, you slumped in her arms, eyes cast downwards.
It didn’t escape Jill’s notice—she’d never let anything about you escape her notice. Tilting her head downwards quizzically, she lifted a hand and placed a hand on your shoulder. Cool to the touch.
“Tell me what happened.”
Her voice reminded you of soft sunshine in a flower field. You looked up to meet her eyes—welcoming and warm, in contrast to the temperature of her skin, so reassuring, so comforting, that you felt wetness prick in the corner of your eyes.
Jill raised her brows, placing her other hand on your other shoulder. “Is it something you can tell me?”
You nodded, but when you opened your mouth you were afraid your voice would warble, so you shut it again. How would you describe it to her? She would never mock or jeer at you. You could say anything. But even when you tried again, the words caught in your throat, threatening to give way to despair, so you opted to bury your head in her chest and sniffle.
“I messed up…”
Only three words, and it was more than enough for her to understand—there wasn’t much else to mess up as a cursebreaker. Jill circled you with an arm around your torso, the other hand gliding through the strands on the top of your head. “It wasn’t your fault.”
But it was. The bearers you were supposed to rescue dead, the soldiers you’d been ordered to take out escaped…
You shook your head wordlessly.
“It wasn’t,” Jill said again, this time sternly like chiding a child. Steadying two hands on your cheeks, she lifted your head to look at you uninterrupted. “Do not blame yourself for trying to be someone’s salvation. The only ones at fault are those monsters who’ve stolen away countless futures. Not you.”
She smelled like flowers.
“Are we clear?”
A surprising smile crept onto your lips, and you laughed shortly. Jill blinked. “How did you know what I was upset about when I barely said anything?”
She sighed, pressing her forehead to yours. Refreshingly chilly. “I would have failed you if I couldn’t understand what you were upset about.”
“You could never fail me, Jill.”
She only further proved your point by whisking you away to the Ale Hall for some comfort sweets.
-------------
Your lungs were going to catch fire.
You’d been careless. You had known the soldiers from your previous assignment had escaped. You had known what kind of vengeful scoundrels they were. You had known they would stop at nothing to maul those who had provoked their pride alive.
Idiot. Why had you returned to the village, by yourself, and not expected them to have laid an ambush, waiting for your return? Why couldn’t you have waited longer before going back to check on the villagers? Why couldn’t you have troubled some of the other cursebreakers to join you?
You were going to die.
Gasping for sharp inhales of air, your legs carried you as fast as they could, sprint automatic at that point. You were faster than your pursuers, and you could outrun them—but not for long. At any moment, your legs were going to give way, collapse, and then it’d be all over.
You didn’t want to die.
A dagger sailed through the air, and your prayers went unanswered.
Pain exploded in your thigh and you tumbled forward, throwing your hands out to partially curb your fall. Gravel in the dirt grazed your palms, but it was nothing compared to the searing stab wound in your leg. Don’t take it out, you’ll die of blood loss—gritting your teeth, you struggled to your feet, limping forward a few more paces. You knew you couldn’t run. It was your loss.
The soldiers’ footsteps behind you eventually slowed to a halt. You turned back to face them with a glare, already predicting their smug, triumphant sneers plastered across their expressions.
“Maybe this’ll finally make an example of any fools who try to get in our way,” one of them—their little ringleader, you presumed—mused.
Every breath felt like it constricted your lungs more. You wanted to rip off your leg and toss it away. In defiance, you said nothing.
He guffawed, “Any last words, missy?”
“Fuck you,” you spat at them.
Even your meaningless words could cross him. His face contorted into a snarl, and he unsheathed his blade, approaching you. How sensitive he was—mindless things like those would never upset Jill.
Oh.
Under your breath, in the smallest of voices: “Jill…”
A burst of icicles rained from the sky. You barely registered the yells and terrified shrieks from the soldiers before giant crystals of ice exploded on the ground, the impact blowing half of them away and barricading the rest, if they hadn’t been frozen over to death. You didn’t even notice the leader whip around before a wall of ice crashed between the two of you, sealing him away from you—you’d been too enticed with the sparkling dust dancing in the air.
Up above, a blizzard was howling in Shiva’s eyes.
When they caught sight of you, they visibly softened. She descended towards you, and you thought she almost looked like a fairy.
As she landed, in a veil of glittering mist, Jill emerged again. She walked to your side, steadily, with an eerie calmness—she mustn’t have primed for very long. When she reached you, she knelt down on one knee in front of you.
“Jill,” you breathed, and you had forgotten about how every inch of your body was in pain.
She nodded, resting a hand on yours wordlessly. It was cold, but it felt so warm.
“I’m still okay,” you said. Your leg was punctured, but it wasn’t fatal. You’d live if you saw a healer. More importantly: “Watch out, the soldiers are still—”
You fell silent as she cupped your cheek with a gloved hand. Her gaze had fallen to the dagger, still protruding from your thigh, and then slowly dragged back up to meet your eyes.
She smiled, so softly, you felt like the frigid air was going to melt you.
“I’ll kill them.”
With a brandish of her sword, she swept back towards the soldiers with the grace of a deadly dancer.
-------------
It was over in minutes.
Jill returned to you, clothes splattered with crimson. Wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, she exhaled the same way she did when she finished a light sparring session. You watched her every step as she crouched down next to you.
You wanted to hug her, but your arms wouldn’t obey you anymore. You settled for a feeble grin. “You saved me.”
“No.” She carefully examined the dagger in your leg. “I almost failed to protect what is rightfully mine.” Very, very gently, she meticulously drew the weapon out from piercing you, hovering a hand over and freezing the wound over before it could open and gush out. She couldn’t heal well, but it was a trick she’d learnt to shield injuries until a reliable healer was available.
“I already told you that you could never fail me.”
“I would have failed myself.” Throwing the dagger a distance away, she rested a hand on your shoulder. If you stayed very still, you could feel her tremble. “When I heard you returned to the village, I was so afraid, I…”
You must’ve worried her terribly. You chewed on your bottom lip. “I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful next time.”
Jill looked at you, almost looking like a lost child. After a few moments, when it finally settled in that you were alright, you were safe, she finally smiled again.
As the both of you journeyed back to the village for a healer, you pondered on it: it seemed like whenever you called for her, she would always find you.
joshua who, in the japanese audio, normally uses "boku" but used "watashi" when speaking gently to the medicine girl... one of the twins in the hideaway calling him gentle in the japanese ver... he has to be good with kids for sure
Somethings Never Change, Feelings Never Fade 3/4
Author note: So after going back and forth with myself, I decided to make this a 4 parter just because things were getting a bit tedious and convoluted. So enjoy this next chapter! It's SFW, smut will be in part 4.
Word count: 6.1K
TW: blood, death, murder, swearing
Part 3: Somethings lost, somethings found
“You know out of all the habits you could have picked up from Cid… smoking?” Jill laughs patting my shoulder as we lounge about on the bench in Cid’s office waiting for Clive and Cid to return. Pulling the cigar from my lips, I stick my tongue out at her as she rolls her eyes. Another day of her scolding.
“Better smoking than being reckless? Or how about being sarcastic? I think this is the least harmful… I think.”
She throws her hands up in mock defeat laughing as I continue, “Maybe my bad habit would quell if you lot weren’t always throwing yourselves into danger at the drop of a whim.”
“It’s what we must do,” a gruff voice from the doorway states.
“Like fuck all.” I grumble while taking another puff of the cigar, much to the chagrin of Clive, while Cid chuckles from behind him. In a few quick strides he makes it across the room and promptly plucks the cigar from my lips and drops it to the ground, immediately stomping it out.
“You sound like Gav… and have we not spoken about this habit of yours?” He chastises as Jill folds her arms across her chest nodding in agreement.
“Maybe so but isn’t the real culprit Cid? I am his ward after all,” I casually throw out with a shrug of my shoulders.
Letting out a hearty laugh, Cid rounds his desk before tsk-ing at my admission, “Had I known you would be this quick to throw me to the wolves, our first meeting in Northreach may have been different.”
I roll my eyes before standing up to make my way to Cid’s desk as Jill and Clive gather around as well, “Speaking of Northreach… you all will be leaving soon, yeah?” Nodding with a deep sigh, Cid looks to me and sees the worry creeping into my eyes.
Cid was never one to hesitate or even feel regret for his actions but I could tell that there was some sense of unease “We’ve had this conversation before-”
“I know- but this is basically a suicide mission and you expect me to stay here?” I lament feeling my chest tighten, “If something were to happen and I can’t be there to help-”
“Kadenza. You will wait here with everyone.” Cid firmly states as he lights a cigar.
I feel my shoulders trembling and tears welling in my eyes. I was terrified knowing that the three people I cared about so dearly were essentially marching to their potential deathbeds. Of course they are fearsome warriors and dominants, nonetheless, but destroying a Mothercrsytal? This isn’t any ordinary foe. I knew for years that this is what Cid intended to do but a selfish part of me wished that he would let it go. The world has been so cruel to many of us so why should he save it?
Feeling a firm hand on my shoulder, I notice Clive standing to the left of me and Jill on my right. Everyone’s eyes were on me.
Placing my hand atop Clives, I look back to Cid, “My heart is filled with unease. I know you are all more than capable but-”
“We will come back to you,” Jill reassures while turning me to face her and clasp my hands in hers, “Metia has guided us to each other once and she will do so once more. Please wait here safely.”
I nod weakly, unable to look her in the eyes for fear that I may cry, “I’ve grown up yet I still feel like that little girl hiding in that crate. I wish there was more I could do besides stay here. It would settle my heart knowing that I could be with you.”
Jill pulls me into a tight hug and pats my hair reassuringly, “I am so sorry for leaving you that night but I promise, I will return this time. We all will, so please be patient and believe in us.”
There's a familiar pressure on my shoulder as it is squeezed gently. Pulling away from the warmth of Jill’s hug, I glanced back to see Clive with a comforting smile on his face, “You were always one to wear your heart on your sleeves but put your heart at ease… We will return without fail.”
I return his smile before looking back to Cid, “I trust you, all of you. Don’t make me regret it..” Cid puts out his cigar then stands to his feet as he reaches over to ruffle my hair like he did when we first met.
Cid chuckles, “Of course, m’lady.”
-
“Kadenza!” Tarja yells from the entryway of the infirmary as a soldier attempts to plunge his blade into my chest.
I nearly dodge and pull my dagger from my thigh holster and lodge it into his abdomen. The man lets out a blood curdling scream and kicks me to the floor by my chest. Wheezing in pain, I attempt to escape as he grabs my hair but he’s not fast enough in finishing the job. Faster than I can process, Tarja swiftly rushes the man and rips my dagger from his stomach. The action causes blood to splatter on my face as she goes in for the kill and slices his neck. Gurgling out a pained groan, the man drops to his knees and crashes to the floor. The horrific sight makes bile rise in the back of my throat and I lurch forward emptying the contents of my stomach. I’m on my knees, coughing and spluttering. Doing my hardest to steady my breaths, I feel myself nearly hyperventilating as I manically wipe at the blood on my face.
There’s s-so much…
“Kadenza! Get up!” She barked, yanking me to my feet by my upper arm, “We have to find Gav and get out of here!”
Still dizzy from the adrenaline rushing through me I can only nod and follow Tarja out of the infirmary but panic at the realization of my missing dagger.“Tarja! My dagger!”
Trying to pull out of her grasp, she only tightens her grip before grabbing me by my shoulders,“We’ll get you another one! Let’s go!”
No. That’s all I have left of him.
“No! I can’t! Please… that's all I have left of him…” I plead.
Her furrowed brows slowly turn upward in concern. The stern gaze fades away, replaced with remorse, realizing what she implied. She releases a deep sigh before pushing me back to the infirmary, “Be swift. I’ll look out.”
I make my way back to the infirmary and am once again met with the horrific sight of the deceased soldier. Moving closer to the body I do my best to not retch at the sight. My dagger is lying about a foot away but is drenched in blood. Hesitantly I reach my hand out to retrieve the small blade and immediately feel chills run down my spine. The thick dark liquid was still warm to touch. I shutter and do my best to not vomit once more as I wipe the blade down and place it back in the holster around my thigh. Standing up on shaky legs, I stumble back a little, I take in the bloody scene in all its horror.
“Kadenza!” Tarja calls from the hallway.
“C-Coming…” I slowly take a few steps back before turning my back. I haven’t seen this much carnage since…
No… Now's not the time.
Returning to Tarja, I gave her a swift nod and we’re off again down the hall. The closer we get to the stairs leading to the Great Hall, the louder the cries of terror grow. The tightness in my chest returns and once again anxiety is licking through my veins like fire as we make it to the top of the stairs and take in the sight before us. I could feel my blood run cold and my body felt as though a million pins were pushing into me.
“No… no no no no. Not again.” I whisper watching the residents of the Hideaway being slaughtered in cold blood. My heart is thrumming in my ears as I watch paralyzed in place.
Fire. Blood. Screaming.
Before I realize, I’m on the ground shrieking… My senses are completely overwhelmed. My chest aching from how hard my heart was pounding. My fists bloody from slamming against the ground. All I could do in the moment was shriek in anguish, the whole of my body trembling violently.
The night that I spent so many years trying to move on from. The night that replayed in my head whether consciously or subconsciously. The night that lived in my dreams… a harsh reminder of how I ended up here. That night 13 years ago was happening again.
I can hardly process the person in front of me.
-
“Kadenza stand up!” Tarja calls as she roughly shakes the young woman in front of her.
“Kadenza please! We need to go!” Tarja calls but Kadenza remains unresponsive. Knowing that the situation was too dire to stay in one spot, Tarja once again heaves the woman up by her arm and wraps an arm around her waist before guiding her down the hall to where she had seen Gav run off to, “Come on Enza, please you have to work with me!” She begs as she lugs the woman along with her. Tarja knew better than anyone the torments of Enza’s past and prayed that one day she could heal from it.
Kadenza had a habit of falling into depressive episodes that Tarja became all too familiar with but she had never seen her in this state. Unresponsive and nearly petrified. It pangs Tarja’s heart yet she knows that regardless of her emotional and mental state, they needed to leave as soon as possible.
Finally happening upon Cid’s office Tarja calls out to Gav as she does her best to support the woman leaning on her, “Gav we’ve got to go!” She shouts, looking around making sure no one was coming.
Stumbling to Cid’s desk, Gav reaches down to grab a crystal that had fallen on the floor, “Not without this!” Tarja notices the blood on Gav’s face as he stumbles forward. Knowing that he was behind her, she gripped tighter on to Kadenza’s waist as they make their escape. Not too far ahead was Cole and a few other escapees making a run for it. Noticing Gav’s bloodied eye and him stumbling, Cole reaches to support Gav.
“Cole!” Tarja calls as she follows the others outside of the ruin, “What the hell is happening?”
Helping Gav along, Cole grunts, feeling the excretion wearing on his body, “It’s Kupka! These are his troops!”
“Shit! How did he find us?” She questions more to herself but nearly tumbles to the ground with Kadenza in tow as she feels the ground begins to quiver under a massive weight. A massive form erupts from behind the ruins and a paralyzing sound of a thunderous roar rips through the air.
Titan.
Large chunks of rock and debris rain down from the sky causing everyone to backpedal and find another way to escape unscathed. Holding on to Kadenza, Tarja is just as shocked as Gav as he pushes Cole away. They both stare in awe watching as Titan slams his fist down.
“Fuck me!” Gav bellows watching the Eikon beat down their only home, “Where the hell are you, Cid?” He calls out in desperation with Tarja right beside him, too shocked to even process his words.
“Where the hell are you?” He says once more in disbelief right as Tarja snaps back to her senses.
“Gav! Let’s go! We need to get away- please help me with Kadenza!” She pleads, feeling her grip slacken around the woman’s waist. Turning back to the two women, Gav finally realizes the glossed over look in Kadenza’s eyes. As much as he wanted to ask what happened, he knew now was not the time. They needed to get to safety. He reaches for the woman and scoops her into his arms as they all make a run for it.
—
5 years later
“Thank you Cole… You didn’t have to travel back with me. I could have made it on my own.”
“And evoke Martha’s wrath? I’d rather not.”
“Well… You’re not wrong but with all the soldiers wandering around, Martha definitely needs you more than I do.”
He shrugs his shoulders dismissively, “Well we’re already here so if I’m needed or not doesn’t matter right now.” I let out a little chuckle feeling him tense up as he pulled the reins on his chocobo,signaling it to stop. Letting out a squawk, the giant bird comes to a stop then proceeds to nestle down on the ground comfortably. With the chocobo at ease, Cole releases the reins while I remove my arms from his waist. He dismounts first before reaching back to help me down.
“Good boy,” I coo, feeding the bird a handful of gysahl greens and gingerly petting the top of its head. The chocobo chirps as it nuzzles its head into my hand. “Obolus should be here soon.” I say offhandedly as Cole walks to the deck. Turning to face him, I see one of his hands raised above his eyes, shielding them from the sun as he looks off into the horizon.
“I will wait with you here until you board… Ah there he is!” Cole says, intently watching the boat lazily sail forward.
Placing a kiss on the chocobo’s bill, I feed it one more handful of greens before joining Cole on the deck, “Hmm.. taking his time today?”
Letting out an amused chuckle, he looks to me shaking his head, “Don’t let the grumpy bastard hear you, he might just sail away.” I nearly choke as I try to hide my laughter as Obolus nears the dock. As usual, his hood is shrouding most of his face but I can still see the grimace etched on his face.
“Obolus! Why the face?” I call out once his boat approaches the dock. Ignoring me, he secures the boat to the dock before carefully stepping up to joining myself and Cole.
“Enjoy the ride back,” Cole whispers in my ear as Obolus shoots us a glare.
“I may be aging but my ear is as sharp as ever.” Obolus flatly says as Cole shrinks back with a nervous chuckle before waving bye and jogging off to his chocobo. “Now girl, are you going to stand there all day or shall we head back.”
A little chuckle leaves my lips as I make my way towards the boat, “It’s good to see you too, Obolus. Anything new since I’ve been away?” Carefully lowering myself into the boat, I take the seat that’s nearest to him and watch as he makes his way back into the boat, working to undock us. He reaches to pick up the large oar from the crutch and pushes off the bank underneath the dock and we’re sent sailing back in the direction he came, “Aye. I’m sure you’ve heard Midadol causing havoc at the Hideaway for a weeks before returning to Kanver… noisy little thing.”
“Yeah… Clive told me the last time he stopped by. Poor thing seemed burnt out from running all over Valisthea for whatever Mid was building.” I laugh, reaching over the edge to dip my hands in the cool water. “I also received a stolas nearly a week ago… he said he and Jill were headed to Twinside.”
Grunting in agreement, he lays the oar down and secures it to the crutch then reaches for the tiller, guiding us along the dark lake. Chewing on my lower lip, I look to Obolus anxiously, “Have they returned?”
He nods as he looks out towards the open water, making sure to navigate us in the right direction “A day or so ago.”
Perking up at the news, I feel the tension in my shoulders dissipate. I smile to myself as I direct my attention towards the rolling water beneath us. I watch as small ripples form from where the bow of the boat gracefully cuts through the water. For a few months I had been at Martha’s side, helping to heal the residents after the last attack from the Imperials. The Black Shields wreaked havoc among the villagers, destroying shops, cutting down innocents who were doing their best to avoid their wrath. But it was mostly for naught. Many people died and while others were left injured. Without hesitation I volunteered to go stay with the village for a while in order to help the injured, luckily with no objection from Clive. I had been there for nearly a fortnight when Clive and Jill returned along with a face I hadn’t seen in years, Sir Wade. And with him came the Guardians of the Flame who stuck around to help us recover. And much to my surprise, Lord Byron, who had been funding the Guardians of the Flame, offered to help support us monetarily.
“That’s good to hear…” I say softly, smiling fondly to myself.
The rest of the ride was made in silence, Obolus guiding across the dark body of water while I gazed ahead enjoying the cool breeze of the wind bouncing along the gentle tides. Although it was only a few months, I had missed the hustle and bustle of the Hideaway and I’m pretty sure Tarja had her hands full without me. I had been drowning on my own taking care of the villagers, so I could only imagine how it was going for her without me… not that she couldn’t manage on her own but the tasks were less cumbersome with a second set of hands.
After nearly an hour of sailing, the Hideaway becomes visible the closer we move through the desolate waters. The scenery, all too familiar with scattered parts of ruin and airship debris littering the area.
Home.
Excitingly my leg bounces in anticipation the closer we get to the dock which leads to a mild scolding from Obolus. Something about the movement being aggravating and that I needed to settle down but I ignored it as I swiftly stood to my feet. Before even having the chance to dock the boat, I’m hauling myself over the edge of the boat up to the dock.
“Are ya attempting to injure yourself, girl?! Be more cautious!” Obolus admonishes much to my dismal as I run across the pier to make my way towards the lift. “What about my pay brat?”
Laughing giddily, I pull the lever to start the lift and wave to Obolus as it sets off, “Get it from Otto!” I can hear him swearing as the lift ascends but I really couldn’t be bothered, I was too excited to be back. Once the lift arrives at the boarding deck, I swiftly make haste to Clive’s chamber, hoping that I’d see him and Jill there. Weaving my way past all the residents, I’m greeted with various hellos and acknowledgements of my return.
“Clive!” I call making it to his chambers before swinging the doors open taking him by surprise as I crash into his broad chest.
“Ah Kadenza-” He grunts out and pulls me from his chest as I look up at him sheepishly.
“Sorry! I’m just too happy to be back, even more so that you all came back unscathed.” He chuckles and leads me back to his room where Jill waits with her arms open, “Jill!”
We both laugh as we embrace each other, “Made it back, yes. Unscathed? Not so much” She jests, pulling back from the hug, “It’s good to see you in high spirits.”
“Well, I did get to enjoy a good pint and a smoke every evening without being pestered,” I reply mischievously, getting a disapproving grunt from Clive, “ And- everyone’s doing much better in the village. We even managed to bring in more bearers to aid, so it was time well spent. How did everything go in Twinside? Did you destroy the Mothercrystal?”
Sharing a hesitant glance between each other, Clive and Jill look back to me, “Is there a problem?” I question, feeling uneasiness settle into the pit of my stomach. Jill looks to Clive expectantly and he nods as the two have a silent conversation with their eyes before returning their gaze to me.
“Kadenza…” Clive reaches for my shoulders and firmly squeezes them, “Joshua is here.”
I feel my mind go blank and my heart wrenches in my chest. I can’t tell if it’s from anxiety or excitement but I feel dizzy almost.
“Kadenza?” Jill questions wearily.
Still frozen in place, my mind and heart work in tandem piecing together emotions that I had buried for years. When Clive had first told me that he believed Joshua was alive was right after their return from Drake’s Head. Cid was gone and the Hideaway destroyed. Hearing Clive speak about Joshua possibly being alive was too much and so I brushed him off and never spoke of it again, forcing myself to believe that his mind was conjuring up apparitions in his state of grief. But now as I stand here, finally receiving the confirmation I had longed for for so long I didn’t know how to digest such a blessing in this grim reality.
Clive drops a hand from my shoulder and the other moves to my cheek wiping away a single tear, “Kadenza, I-”
“Where… where is he?” I questioned, closing my eyes to focus on the wild thrumming of my heart. Without even looking, I know he was hesitating to tell me. Something was wrong. Opening my eyes, I stare into the depths of Clive’s cerulean blue eyes, searching for an answer. “Clive…”
Feeling his resolve crumble he looks toward the door before mumbling ‘Infirmary’ under his breath but still loud enough for me to catch it. Without a second thought, I’m barreling through the doors of his chambers down the stairs as I rush across the Hideaway. In my haste I dash past Otto, ignoring his greetings and hastily climb the stairs to the infirmary, nearly falling as I barely missed a step. Roughly shoving the door open, I can know that I’ve startled Tarja as her shoulders jolted in surprise from where she stood over a man in white.
“Kadenza! Have you gone mad?” She admonishes but I ignore her, focusing on the man in the bed behind her.
She notices where my gaze trails off to, “Are you alright?” She whispers slowly coming towards me but again I ignore her. Brushing past her, I slowly make my way towards the man who lay unconscious. Carefully kneeling down beside the man, I reach for his hand clasping it gingerly between my own hands. I take in his features that were familiar yet so very different from the boy I knew in my past life. Features that were once camouflaged by plump cheeks and boyish features were now more defined. Defined jawline and nose, sharper brows hidden under a longer fringe of bangs, and full lips… Over the years, watching myself age, I had always wondered what kind of man Joshua would grow into.
Would he be tall? Maybe have facial hair like the Archduke? Would he allow his hair to grow?
Those kinds of thoughts would cross my mind at night as I fiddled with the age-old dagger he had gifted to me before drifting off to sleep… But now… as he lays here in front of me, none of that mattered. Holding his hand tightly I bring it to my lips, as I place a gentle kiss on his bruised knuckles, “Joshua… it really is you. My dearest friend… you’re here.”
I hear shuffling behind me before a gentle hand is pulling me close. Still holding onto his hand I look up to Tarja, vision clouded in tears, “Tarja… my friend… my dearest friend is here.” I try to smile but my lips won’t stop trembling, “He’s alive.”
Kneeling down, Tarja pulls me to her chest as a violent shudder crawls up my spine and a loud hiccupped sob leaves my lips. Releasing Joshua’s hand I throw my arms around Tarja, allowing years worth of pain to finally pour from every fiber of my being.
-
From the day I reunited with Joshua, Tarja allowed him to be moved to a private room in the barracks where I could take care of him and be around as much as possible without disturbing the other residents who came to the infirmary. The room was simple with a single bed pushed in a corner, a small chest at its side along with a random chair but at my request Gav and Clive brought up a table into the room, placing it close to the balcony, along with another a chair. I used that area to pestle more medicine and organize all my supplies to care for Joshua. When all was settled Tarja helped me bathe him and assisted me in redressing him in a fresh tunic and trousers provided by Hortense. No one really bothered me as I stayed by his side, even Tarja gave us space and worked in the infirmary alone taking care of Bahamut and the other residents.
Dousing a cloth in cool water placed atop the chest nearest to the bed I pull the cloth out then wring it until it’s dry before returning to his bedside, carefully sitting on the edge. Gently blotting at the sweat collecting on his forehead and chest, I feel a small pout forming on my lips. He had over exerted himself in his fight against Bahamut and his body was paying the price. The rosy skin that I remember from childhood was flushed and pale. His skin was hot to the touch and lips chapped, mostly from dehydration. He had been unconscious since the day I returned but every so often would stir awake mostly speaking in nonsensical ramblings, delirious from a fever. The moments wouldn’t last long before he was falling back into unconsciousness however; fortunately for me, I was able to enjoy these small moments listening to the low tenor of his voice slur in speech as he attempted to make sense of the stream of thoughts coursing through his mind. Today was no different.
“You… you seem familiar,” He rasps, doing his best to focus his gaze, “...like her…” I can’t help the small laugh that leaves my lips watching as he does his best to concentrate on my features but the fever makes him too delirious. He lets out a huff as he closes his eyes doing his best to fight the fog clouding his mind but based on the furrowing of his brows it’s a losing battle, “Why does my heart ache so?”
Reaching forward to brush his fringe from his forehead, I’m startled as I feel his hand grasp mine. It’s warm and clammy but the grip he has on my hand is firm… comforting. He guides my hand to his cheek as a lazy smile graces his lips as his eyebrows slowly relax, “my most precious…” He trails off falling into a light slumber, the smile never leaving his lips.
The hold on my hand slackens as it slowly falls to the side, resting by his head. I lean across him to lay his arm back by his side. I shake my head gently and do my best to bite back the smile that had my heart fluttering while readjusting his body to a more comfortable position. Slightly leaning back to settle myself beside him I can’t help but stop to admire the peaceful expression adorning his face.
“Am I… am I that precious to you?” I murmur as I bring my hand back to caress his cheek, gently soothing my thumb over the apple of his cheek. “Was there a version of me that lived on in your heart?” He shifts a little in his sleep, allowing his cheek to rest comfortably in my hand as he nuzzles closer.
Wistfully taking in his presence, I can’t help the deep sigh that leaves my lips, “You’re so close yet so far… return to me, Joshua. I can’t bear another moment without you.” Lowering myself to the bed, I do my best to lay comfortably along his side while moving my hand from his cheek to his heart. Curling up as close as I can, I listen to the rhythmic thrum of his heart and the steady sound of his breathing. With the little light left in the day peaking through the balcony of his room, I felt myself falling into a light sleep.
-
The steady thrum I fell asleep to seemed more erratic in my drowsy state as a firm warmth surrounded me. The source shudders with every inhale and exhale, and the soft sounds of weeping. Finally allowing my eyes to flutter open, they’re met with rosy sun kissed skin peeking out from white fabric.
Still in a state of confusion and fogginess, I do my best to pull away to take in what the source of the commotion was but am firmly held in place,“...what?”
“My most precious…”
A violent chill runs up my spine when I recognize the voice, “Joshua!?”
His gently weeping subsides as he pulls back from the embrace he had me in where one of his hands was on the nape of my neck and another arm wound tightly around my waist. He studies my face as fresh tears stream down his face, “It is you…”
He pulls me in gently resting his chin on the crown of my head as another shuttered breath rips through him, “Countless nights, chasing the phantom of your existence…. Nevermore… you’re here.”
“You… you never forgot about me?” I mutter against his chest, feeling the familiar pin pricks of emotions welling up again.
“Not for a single moment, my dearest friend. You were always my most precious.” He whispers into my hair. My heart feels as if it would escape my chest with how hard it knocked against my breast. With how close he held me I knew he could feel it, yet he never said anything as we remained frozen in that moment.
-
“You’ve grown tall. Handsome even.” I tease looking over my shoulder from where I’m standing at the table.
“And without the aid of carrots, “ He muses from the bed with a smug smirk playing at the corner of his lips. His fever was down considerably but I could tell that fatigue still lingered in his bones as he rested his back against the wall behind his bed. Rolling my eyes, I can’t help but snort at the admission and return to my work to grind up herbs. He may look mature but I guess there were still qualities that hadn’t grown with him.
“My lady?” He calls from his place on the bed.
I laugh again at the formality,“Still not a lady.”
Peeking over my shoulder I see him raise fist to his mouth coughing awkwardly, searching for another way to address me, “My Shield?”
Shaking my head, I put down my mortar and pestle with a giggle. Facing him, I notice the amused grin gracing his features. Huffing out a sigh, sauntering up to the end bed before flopping down to stare up at the ceiling, “Unfortunately no… turns out that I’m not quite cut out for battle.” I muse thinking back to my dream of once being a Rosarian Shield, “...that resolve escaped me long ago.”
There’s a brief silence, as I feel the bed shift beside me. Looking to my left, Joshua is laid beside me facing the opposite direction as he stares up at the ceiling, “Our circumstances have been quite unfortunate.”
Sucking my teeth, I can’t help the grimace adorning my face,“Unfortunate is a bit too gentle of a word, no?”
Joshua chuckles as he turns his head to the side to look at me. I mirror his action as we lay in silence reveling in each other’s presence. Two childhood friends torn apart by unforeseeable circumstances but miraculously brought together by divine intervention, as if the Founders had been listening in on my prayers all these years.
Breaking the silence first, Joshua moves closer to me, “You’ve become quite the healer… Truthfully, it suits you.”
Feeling heat creep up my neck, I quickly avert my gaze to the ceiling “You think so?”
He releases a sigh but keeps his attention on me, “I’ve missed you.”
Swallowing the thick lump in my throat, I keep my eyes locked on the ceiling above me as I do my best not to crack under the piercing stare of his sapphire eyes, “And I you.”
“Your aversion to me says otherwise… what ales you?” His voice somber.
Closing my eyes thoughtfully, I inhale deeply and hold it in for a few moments before exhaling. My mind replaying moments of our childhood together. Whenever I felt alone, he was always there beside me. Even with the heavy burden of being the Phoenix and future Archduke of Rosaria, he always made space for me to be in his orbit. My trusted friend and confidant. I would never be of noble blood and would never have the ability to stand by his side… Even so, I knew I could find pride whether I stood firmly behind him as a maid or confidently in front as a shield, I was thankful for a place in his life… yet, after years of mourning him and the friendship we had I always came to the same conclusion. My heart only ached like this because I adored him. And for years my mind had been tormented over the fact that no matter how hard I tried to root out his presence from my heart, my love for him only seemed to blossom like wyvern tails. The deep rooted pining in my chest only longed more for his presence.
“It is you that ails me.” I finally mutter shifting to lay on my side and face him head on. He winces at my words but allows me to continue, “Do you not realize that I’ve always adored you? When you look at me like that… It sets my heart ablaze.”
Once again silence fills the space between us as we observe each other, neither one of us moving. The air felt tense and the silence was deafening, as I searched his eyes for an answer. His unchanging expression was hard to read and that only fueled the humiliation that was simmering in the pit of my stomach. Still unwavering, he turns on his back to face the ceiling and I can’t help but feel dejected.
“I-I’m sorry-”
“May I tell you of a girl whom I loved?” I feel my heart still, the question like a dagger lodging itself deep into my chest. I didn’t know how to respond so I closed my eyes and listened.
“My father always looked on with pity when it came to her… ‘An unfortunate thing’ he would say. She had no recollection of her age, forgotten surname, and, unfortunately, was orphaned. My mother held much contempt for the girl…” He recalls somberly before continuing, “However, to me… she was my dearest, most treasured friend.”
Ba-thump Ba-thump
“A myriad of our days were spent holed up in the Duchy’s library receiving lessons after being scolded for arriving late.” A low rumble of a chuckle leaves his lips, “When free of responsibility, we would sneak away to play in the gardens. Always the same game. Princess and the knight, yet, somehow… I never had the chance to be the knight.”
Ba-thump Ba-thump
“She loved flowers… chrysanthemums mostly. She eagerly awaited them every year, albeit she’d never admit to it… So I would leave a few outside her chamber and wait for her to retrieve them.”
Ba-thump Ba-thump
“The last time I saw her… I’d given her a dagger. I even had her initials engraved. Foolishly, I convinced myself that it was only a gift between friends. But with the passage of time and maturing, I realized it was more that my younger self had not quite grasped. It was love. Pure unadulterated adoration in its truest sense.”
Eyes still closed, I feel a shift on the bed and the warmth of his presence closer than before as his breath fans against my lips. Yet again I’m chewing my lower lip out of nerves before peeking an eye open, only to be met with his deep gaze.
“Do you still love her?”
Closing the gap between us, he presses a tender kiss to my forehead as I sheepishly screw my eyes shut. “How could I not?” He murmurs against my skin.
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