Lightning knew it would be foolish to openly stare at the density of the crowds, at the sheer size of the bustling city streets, yet she couldn't help but glance around at anything and everything she could possibly see, at least out of the corner of her gaze.
Fang just made her way along through the masses, navigating between so many stately stone buildings, then beneath the tall metal archways that must have been forged by master craftsmen, and for no practical purpose, either. Those arches wouldn't be able to protect the people below from the rain, nor did they provide much shelter from the sunlight; it was simply for vanity's sake, purely decorative, a open display of wealth.
Lightning swore that it felt like a slow whirlpool, all of the people going back and forth about their daily life in the streets, moving on from one place to another without much sense of urgency or purpose. She tried not to stare at the way a group of young adults were loitering around on the sidewalk, standing outside what looked like a window display of incredibly well-crafted footwear; the colorful selection ranged from boots to shoes, to little slim little slippers with shiny buckles and gemstones on the edges.
"Light?" Fang had to speak up over the constant din of the crowds, standing just a short distance away. "Light, you okay?"
Lightning drew herself back from her thoughts. "This place is right out of a storybook."
Fang smiled a little, a rather knowing look. "Nowhere else in the world quite like it..." She glanced around at all of the fancy little shops, and at the tall, extravagant signposts and streetlamps, even the decorative brickwork patterns beneath her feet. "We should get a move on, though... Before it gets really crowded."
Lightning almost narrowed her eyes in disbelief. "You're joking."
"No, it's right around lunchtime, so most people are doing just that." Fang kept walking forward, guiding Lightning along with a quick wave of her hand. "Unless things have changed since I last visited... Let's try and find somewhere more practical."
Lightning breathed out a quiet sigh, and she hurried along to keep up with Fang. "I almost feel-" She looked around at all the vibrant clothing of the people walking the streets, the silken scarves, the wide-brimmed hats with all manner of tall feather plumes and actual live flowers, likely the native fare picked from the colorful fields outside of the city. "I almost feel... Naked, like this." And that was when Lightning realized, the general air that hung like mist within the sky, how it truly felt like the dream she'd once had, a veritable rainbow cloaked so far beneath a deep, gray cloud. It was a tropical city, a dancing streak of color that had somehow been stuck right within the middle of such a sharp, bitter chill, even if the general temperature made her skin feel more than humid.
It was as if everything was dipped beneath that same gray, even the faces that seemed caught between smiling and a neutral gaze, the brand new bracelets that jingled with each step someone took, even a child walking after her mother, only with a rather blank look in both of their eyes. Was there truly nothing that they could see in such a magnificent place? A place with so much grand decor, with more sights to experience than the entirety of so many other populated islands, of whole cities, even; why did they almost look bored?
Lightning felt her own heartbeat quicken, and she kept herself a bit closer to Fang. It was that primal sense of uncanny surroundings, one that jumped right to alert even when there was truly nothing to fear, at least not in a physical sense. It was the feeling that told her to be very cautious of empty eyes and voices that had no luster, of people who looked so incredibly dour and disinterested of their own world, somehow complacent, as if there was no fire in their hearts, not anymore. But why didn't Fang seem to see it? Lightning stared at the eyes of her friend, at the comforting warmth within them, the spark of strength to fight and protect them both, yet she still didn't seem to notice the fatigue of the people who walked along the very same path that they did.
"Fang." Lightning released a silent sigh once they had approached a tall wooden bridge, one that spanned the length of a massive canal, where several young couples mingled and laughed together, yet they still had those very same eyes. "There's just something strange about this place."
"Yeah?" Fang stepped up to the front path of the bridge, beside the long, colorful ribbons that were wrapped all around the railings on either side of the crowd, the people wearing enough fabric to shelter an entire village from a winter chill. "It'll get better in a minute."
Lightning paused for just a brief moment. Did that mean that Fang truly saw it as well? She tried not to stare at those hollow, listless eyes, and before long, she turned her gaze towards one of the mighty cathedrals instead, one that towered above all the rest.
"See that one?" Fang pointed at the very same building that Lightning had noticed, before she stepped back down over the other end of the bridge. "The 'Hall of Devotion'... Also home to one of the biggest historical libraries in the world."
Lightning kept following after Fang, and she nodded. "And that's where we're going?"
Fang shook her head. "Not today... Did you see those ribbons on the bridge? Those mean it's a weekend, prayer days, so they're not open to the public now." She kept walking along the cobblestone avenue, beneath the grand archway that heralded a much wider street, almost a wide plaza, one with colorful flowering trees and lush gardens, sectioned away with low metal fences. "So... I say we should get you some clothes, get us both some lunch, and then find a place to stay while we wait to study up on this."
Lightning almost stopped when she caught sight of tall banners within the crowds, a trail of people who looked like priests in ceremonial wear, yet the golden emblem that dangled from each of their necks... While she was rather loathe to ever take off her own pendant, those winged emblems that stood in the shape of diamonds, of gold diamonds, she had seen the very same thing far too many times to count.
Fang watched the way that Lightning moved behind a decorative pillar, just enough cover to safely remove the silver chain from beside her throat.
Lightning held it so tightly within her palm, the little charm that held so much hidden power, the strikes of electric shock that she and her father had once readily faced, a pair of hunters out in the depths of the deep, dark wilderness. She almost wanted to speak to him aloud, to apologize for not keeping such a personal gift where it truly belonged, but she felt quite sure that he would understand.
"Hey." Fang's tone was gentle, and she smiled softly when Lightning walked back again, out into the open, only without the silver chain around her neck. "Just for a while, yeah?"
Lightning slowly let her backpack slide down from one of her shoulders, and she stashed the charm away. "Just for a while."
Fang tapped at the pointy bits of Lightning's hair. "That's the spirit... We'll be out of here again before you know it."
But somewhere deep down, Lightning had a feeling that those words weren't anywhere close to the truth.
It was past afternoon by the time they'd made their way though the various shopping districts and down into the more practical side of town, a region that had much less reason to awe any newcomers with sheer affluence. No, it was the humble home of many blacksmiths and armories, of the craftsmen and tinkers, those who made much more durable garb instead of ballgowns or slippers, and the change in attitude was almost startling.
The smiles were that of someone who had just worked half a day and still had the rest to keep toiling on, yet the people there were creating what they truly loved, things that brought warmth into the world. Lightning took a moment to gaze at an open forge, watching the grizzled old smith who was showing off the proper way to craft a sword. He hammered the metal down in front of so many chattering children, all in awe of the sparks that flew just safely enough away.
There were many people still walking the streets, but they were mostly busy browsing through the nearby wares, the assorted tools and goods out on display by hired vendors. The crowds lingered longer, and they walked away with almost more than they could carry, while their eyes weren't anything near the same as what Lightning had witnessed before.
Fang suddenly spoke in a low whisper. "Not so creepy out here, is it?"
Lightning almost grit her teeth at the memory of such things. "Not at all... But neither of these seem like 'blood in the streets', either."
"It's pretty weird at first, I know..." Fang kept walking down the streets, past the various vendors who tried to get her attention, showing off their various wares. "There's just something strange about that part of the city."
Lightning followed after Fang, and she tried to keep her attention on wherever they were supposed to be going, but the little shops and stalls just kept catching her gaze. There were bits of metal armor, weapons, even gardening tools, or more decorative things like baubles that made noise in the wind, a well as flat metal plaques for the purpose of engraving a sign upon. There were thin wooden rods for hanging clothes upon, stained glass trinkets and big metal cages for keeping birds, and then even vases for holding flowers, some of which already had several tropical occupants inside.
But Fang didn't pause until they approached a long, wide stairwell, one that led up into a much higher part of the city itself. "We're headed up here..." She looked back over her shoulder, gazing at the craftsman's district, and she found her mind wandering back to the other streets that they'd walked through before; vanity versus practicality, perhaps. Fang smiled to herself, and she walked up towards the place that stood right between both the concepts, a cozy blend of aesthetics and function, rather like a certain person herself.
Fang glanced back again, gazing at the way Lightning's hair moved in the wind, fluttery and soft. The pink hue was indeed rather feminine, and her features did little to suggest anything other than that. Fang smiled to herself again, for the next district would definitely fit Lightning, a wandering hunter of the wilds, a true fighter at heart, yet her strong sense of femininity did nothing to steal away her ferocity. Fang knew that she had once fallen in love with the memory of such a graceful woman, one from another life, the one who only bolstered her own will, her sheer confidence, even her soul, and what she'd found out there on the mountainside... Lightning exceeded nearly all of those expectations.
It was only when they finally walked up beside the top of the staircase, only then did Fang pause again, waiting there with a slight flicker of something truly unsteady in her eyes.
"Fang?" Lightning stopped as well, and she tried to follow Fang's gaze. "...What is that?"
Fang took a moment just to stare at outline of something massive, something that was completely covered in a rather gigantic cloth tarp, guarded by more soldiers than she'd seen in at least a hundred years. "It's the monument to Etro... There's a statue like that for each of the gods here."
Lightning peered at the seamless line of soldiers that stood within the center of the plaza, holding guard beneath the covered statue.
"Damn it..." Fang whispered another curse under her breath, and she slowly began to grit her teeth together. "Looks like you were right."
"I wish I wasn't." Lightning took a slow, yet steady step forward, ignoring the sense that if she hadn't taken off her pendant beforehand, that her approach might mean far more to those guards than the actions of a simple tourist. "Let's get this over with."
The midday sun flitted across the distant windowsill, illuminating the deep red hues on each strand of Fang's darker hair. Yet she only watched in silence from her seat upon a cushy armchair, while a small, clever smirk played over her lips.
Lightning was there as well, standing within the back room of the most practical boutique that they could manage to find. She was wearing yet another possible outfit, slowly turning herself around in front of a mirror.
"Well, it's definitely cute..." Fang's gaze swept over the fabric of the thin vest, up to the buckles near the popped collar, something that her eyes were rather drawn to. "But not quite your color, is it?"
Lightning nodded. "I do like the fit of it, though..." She turned one more time, examining the way the trousers had pockets at either side, more useful than for mere decorative purposes. "It's comfortable."
After a moment, Fang glanced at a few of the other patrons of the shop, and she narrowed her eyes at a group of teenagers, those who almost seemed to be snickering very quietly about something. When one of them looked over at the rather disheveled nature of Lightning's hair, a fact that she couldn't quite help from only having access to bathing in saltwater for the past week or so, and when one of the young women tried to stifle a look of distaste, Fang narrowed her eyes even further. She let her fingertips tighten against the arms of the chair, silently debating with herself over whether or not she should even acknowledge the group.
Lightning reached up to adjust the neckline of the shirt beneath the thin vest, before she frowned. "I don't like the cut of this part."
Fang kept her gaze on the whispering teenagers. "Want me to go look for another?"
"One with a nicer neckline, maybe..." Lightning tugged at the fabric again, but then she turned back to walk towards the dressing room door. "Could you bring over a few of those longer pants we saw near the front?"
"Yeah." Fang nodded. "Be right back." She stepped forward once Lightning had closed the door, and Fang moved on just as silkily as her draconic form would often walk, just a whisper against the carpet of the shop. And with that, she passed by the murmuring group with the iciest glare she could manage. "Find something better to do with your time, or I'll find it for you."
Perhaps it was just her protective instincts kicking in again, but Fang stepped away without another word to the young teens, searching for the clothes that Lightning asked for. She knew she shouldn't let it make her blood boil so very hot, that she shouldn't risk possibly breaking her own cover by making that inner fire hiss and crackle, yet there was just something about it that made her want to snap at whatever she could reach.
Hadn't Lightning suffered enough already? Who really cared if her hair was a tiny bit disheveled? She just wasn't the kind of person to bring along more than a simple bar of soap for her journeys, or a small comb for daily care. It wasn't like Fang's own head of hair, a more wild sort of mane that didn't look much different whether she brushed it or not.
A stack of folded trousers awaited her near the front of the store, next to where the desk attendant was chatting up a different group of young adults. Fang looked them over out of the corner of her eye, a simple threat assessment, though none of the group seemed remotely dangerous. If Fang was to be completely honest with herself, she'd only started taking Lightning's brand of 'calm paranoia' seriously once she caught sight of the covered statue. The stories of those who'd turned upon Etro's following always struck her as unusual, yet for Lightning, she was more than willing to take an entire detour just to dispel those fears, yet now that it was so close... Now that it felt truly real, Fang would rather herself be found out by the people around them than have anyone get close to Lightning with ill intent.
She wondered if that was why she found herself turning towards a certain part of the store, a much more expensive section with all manner of beautifully embroidered clothes, even things that bordered on light armor. Was she truly feeling the need to compensate with a gift of higher quality, just to prove that she was serious about the whole ordeal?
Fang silently scolded the way she suddenly felt just like a lovesick puppy, searching for something that Lightning likely wouldn't approve of at first, something far too expensive. Yet when she reached down for the wallet in her pocket, tracing over the outline of her own scales, her own armor, it felt rather easy to justify how much money the protection would cost.
She silently thanked herself for all those long years of saving up, of playing the stocks with a lifespan that would surely be seen as cheating, though she had very little pity left for anyone outside her family. While she wouldn't often voice it out loud, the rest of the world could rot away for all she cared; it could shatter and burn and then crumble down into dust, just as long as she could keep her loved ones safe, her family, and Lightning, she had definitely fallen into that category.
The windy streets outside kept bustling on with the roving crowds, and Fang took a moment just to look at a traveling cart filled with birdcages. How numerous those bright colors were, all of the plumage and tropical hues; Fang found herself thinking back to a certain falcon who just couldn't be caged, wouldn't be tamed at such a time, and she felt her heart swell with such fondness for the memory.
It was only then that her gaze suddenly caught on something, a certain mannequin near the back corner of the store, right out of reach of the window light. It stood among the thick clothing that was meant for more practical protection, looser than metal or full leather wear, yet still enough to protect the bearer from harm.
The garb was simple at first glance, just a long outfit with coattails and a solid hood, one without fur lining, yet it looked more than enough to protect the identity of the wearer. Fang's gaze traveled down to a pair of dark leather gloves, then the strong bracers that stood on either sides of the long sleeves, though the fabric seemed quite thin enough to wear in hot weather. The main body of the embroidered outfit was a low, deep gray, lighter than the gloves, but the shoulders were a slick black, likely made of leather as well, and the inner fabric of the dark hood was a very silvery white, sleek and shiny and soft. While there was no price-marker to be seen, such a thing was rather traditional for a masterpiece, more of a display of the tailor's skill than for actual sale.
Fang smirked to herself, and she traced her fingertips over the edge of her wallet again. Would Lightning approve? Probably not, at least not until she tried it on to see if it fit well enough. But by the time Fang made her way up to the front counter, speaking in a tone of voice that said she absolutely meant business, that she was utterly serious about her inquiry, it was only a matter of time before Lightning found herself standing back there in the fitting room again.
"Fang, didn't we agree on something simple?" Lightning didn't even try to hold back a frown, for she was utterly alone in the tiny room, yet she could still hear Fang pacing beyond the door. "I feel like a solider in these..."
Fang kept walking back and forth, trying to stifle the excitement. "Does it fit?"
In the view of the tall mirror, Lightning stared at the curved end of the hood, before she tugged it down a bit further over her head. "It's definitely inconspicuous..."
Fang sighed. "Is that sarcasm?"
"Yes and no." Lightning looked back at the warrior's garb, at the cloth and leather made for both easy movement and durability, all of the things they'd spoken about before, but she had a feeling that the sheer craftsmanship of the thing was worth far more than her own entire livelihood could make in a number of months. "It looks expensive, Fang, and that doesn't exactly help me blend in."
Fang looked out over the rest of the store, just to make sure that nobody else was within earshot. "Better to be wealthy than a heretic..."
Lightning rolled her eyes at nothing in particular. "We won't know that until we get into the libraries." She looked down at herself again, and she felt her cheeks suddenly heat up at the embroidery that showed off her waistline and hips, a feathery little pattern that ran all the way up either side of the torso. "I meant what I said, it feels like something fit for a warrior."
Fang suddenly stopped pacing. "Can I see it?"
Lightning felt her whole body tense up, feeling rather out of her element in such a beautiful, meticulous garb, something to catch the eye and stay hidden at the same time, almost a paradox of design. "How expensive is it?"
"Light." Fang almost spoke as if she was trying to coax Lightning into being peaceful again, back out upon the snowy mountainside with almost an entire world of hate between them. "Please, let me do this... I want to do this."
Lightning took a deep breath, both silent and soft, before she slowly sat back down upon the bench, and then pushed at the door to her left side. She didn't even glance at Fang, didn't look anywhere but the sturdy new boots on her feet, at the layered treads that looked as though they could scale a mountain just as easily as the city streets. It was only once she felt that gentle touch against her chin, felt it turn her to let her eyes catch upon Fang's gaze, and then the sudden kiss upon her forehead, just as warm as an all-consuming fire...
"Do you like it?" Fang spoke in a low whisper. "I knew you were a goddess."
Lightning let a small scowl crease her face, but Fang quickly soothed it away with a slow stroke of her thumb, warm and steady at all the same time.
"Really, Light..." Fang knelt down to look at Lightning from below eye level, examining the dark gray clothes, the almost capelike flaps of fabric upon her back, even the sharp collar that blended into both the hood and shoulders, like a bird of prey gazing down at her. "Do you like it? I know I do."
Lightning slowly reached into her backpack, retrieving a certain strip of cloth, just as pale as a layer of fresh snowfall. She clipped the ends down against either side of the inner hood, and there it was, Fang realized, those sharp blue eyes that stood there above the white mask, a silver figure perched upon the bench, a predator within a skin that fit her rather perfectly.
"Lightning." Fang stood up again, and she offered out her hand. "Let me do this."
Lightning's gaze flickered up to stare right into Fang's eyes, the green of a deep, dark forest, the color of home. "...I'd feel better if you got something too, otherwise it's going to feel like you're spoiling me."
Fang glanced down at the clothes that she'd worn for several years, just simple things, stitched up in places that had grown much too thin or tattered. "You want me to get something..." She sighed silently, before she nodded, moving away. "Help me out, then... Vanille always says I have terrible fashion sense."
Lightning would soon start to agree with such a statement, at least in the way that Fang couldn't match up a cohesive outfit if her life depended on it. But she definitely had an eye for quality and individual design, that much was true, and before long, they were both standing there in front of the mirror again, gazing down at the chosen mix of attire.
A black top with a deep green layer of fabric above it, one that tapered down into a dark blue at either side, then a thin belt that always seemed to sway with the movement of her hips. Fang turned around, before she leaned down a bit to examine the way her abdomen was slightly exposed, though not quite to the point of revealing her navel, not unless she adjusted it to. The sides of her upper waist were definitely visible, however, even if the rest of the outfit was rather modest, yet still quite formfitting at the top.
"I like it." Lightning was sitting on the bench again. "Not so sure about the skin, though, if we run into trouble..."
Fang's upper lip twitched into a smile. "Don't worry about that." She turned back to face Lightning again, stretching out her arms to reveal the way the fabric on her shoulders made the rest of the upper garb bend like silk; it was indeed an expensive cut of cloth, though not too pricey for Fang's wallet. "Warm weather like this... I guess I really could use the change in style."
Lightning let her gaze travel along the long lines of silken fabric, at the subtle white embroidery upon each edge, like sea foam gathering at the end of an ocean wave. The bottom half almost looked like a gown, but it didn't hang low enough to get in the way if Fang had to move quickly, not would it snag upon doorways or other such obstacles.
"You ready for lunch?" Fang knelt down to pick up her older clothes, including the certain pocket that had her wallet inside. "We'll be getting there after the crowds, so it'll be quiet."
Lightning stood up as well, and she wondered just how long it would take for her to get used to such sleek clothing. It was truly fit for a master of the bladed arts, for a solider, perhaps, or a fleet footed warrior, even for those who stalked deep within the wilds in search of their chosen prey. She slowly detached her sword from her old belt, along with the bow from above her old shirt, before she clipped the sheathe down to her hip and slung the bowstring over her chest, letting the rest of it become hidden beneath the fabric of the cape flaps.
"Now, if the city hasn't changed too much in the last hundred years..." Fang kept her voice low, slowly walking out into the main pathway of the shop. "I remember a damn good restaurant right down the road from here, and you can even take your plate with you to eat outside."
Lightning stepped away from the fitting room; she moved in the garb of a sleek hunter, a true predator, one who shadowed her companion with only a handful of words. "Sounds nice... And we'll get to see just how this compares to my other jacket, out in the heat."
Fang smiled softly, before she reached down into her pocket again. "I have a feeling you'll be impressed."
Lightning would have sworn that such long clothing shouldn't have been so utterly comfortable beneath the sun, but when Fang revealed that she'd noticed tiny pockets of cooling magic beneath the inner fabric, it all became so much clearer. It was the same sort of magic packets that Lightning herself once purchased for the tiny cellar beneath the kitchen at home, making short-lived food stay fresh for much longer than it usually would.
She could feel the tingling sensation near her upper neck and beneath her arms, even near the small of her back, like a low, chill wind that didn't quite make her shiver, yet it kept her body temperature at a very comfortable degree. Indeed, she almost looked fit for winter in such a thing, though she'd already tugged away the hood from her head to erase any suspicion from the crowds; she had nothing to hide if there was no immediate danger.
While she was sitting there on the edge of a bench, watching all of the people as they walked and mingled throughout the plaza, Lightning focused her gaze upon the armored guards that stood watch beneath the covered statue. Was that the only display that had been concealed? Were the other gods under such close scrutiny? Lightning knew that Etro wasn't always revered by the general public, as a goddess of death sounded almost sinister without further context, but going so far as to hide her likeness from the people, it seemed almost unthinkable for a 'city of the gods'.
She waited there, gazing at all of the colorful sights in the crowds, at more people than she had ever seen in person before. And yet she felt somehow tempered to such things, perhaps from the yearly fairgrounds back near her own home, or the dream of a city with buildings that made Luxerion look quite pale, at least in sheer height; it was more than enough exposure to make her feel almost calm and collected, even within the thick of things.
Fang still hadn't yet returned from buying their lunch, and Lightning might have wondered about her remaining funds if she hadn't seen them for herself, back in the little boutique. Fang was truly without worry in that regard, and if the story about a certain hoard of gold coins was more than mere fiction...
Yet Lightning felt her thought process grind to an utter halt when she caught something formless, something that almost seemed to shudder within the crowd; it was all instinct, then, and it took right over when she heard someone shout, when she saw the guards lift their shields and tense up as well, though they didn't move any further than that.
'Blood in the streets', the old woman had said, perhaps there was disquiet in the civilian population due to the concealment of such a deity. Lightning grit her teeth, but she kept perfectly still, waiting to see if any further action was necessary.
The crowds almost seemed to shift, like flowing tides that just couldn't stay in one place for any longer, and before more than a single moment had passed, a sharper cry echoed out over the plaza.
Lightning narrowed her eyes, mere seconds away from drawing out her sword if anything threatening was to appear, anything but blind panic within the masses, but she almost jolted up from her seat when the guards suddenly broke formation, advancing upon the crowd itself, before a long, whistling blade suddenly flew from off somewhere off in the distance, landing with a low, echoed clang against the surface of the billowing fabric.
A rugged sword stood there, one with a long, red ribbon tied to the hilt; it fluttered silently in the afternoon breeze, even when crowds grew so very silent, like never before, even when the soldiers slowly returned to their posts, keeping their shields held aloft. But there was no blood to be seen, not that day, not within the streets or otherwise. It seemed as if it was merely a warning, cast out into the very heart of the concealment itself.
By the time Fang finally returned, the crowds had grown just as casual as before, and she only noticed the spectacle of the jagged sword once she'd sat down upon the bench with two identical plates of food. "Damn..."
Lightning nodded. "This isn't normal, I take it?"
"Not normal at all..." Fang began to dig into a plate of tropical fruit and a small sandwich, one with freshly baked bread, by the scent of it. "Somebody's pissed."
Lightning glanced at where her backpack was resting on the bench beside her, where she'd hidden her charm within one of those small inner pockets. "Someone on Etro's side, you think?"
Fang shrugged. "It hit the statue, didn't it? Unless that was just collateral..." She took a moment to chew on a piece of soft, sweet fruit. "Whatever the reason, someone sure isn't happy about it."
From the plate that Fang had handed her, Lightning picked up the sandwich from beside the small pile of sliced fruit. "We should get our research out of the way just as soon as the library opens again, and then keep moving... I don't want to stick around if a riot does break out." She kept her voice low, just quiet enough for Fang to hear. "And we should find somewhere safe to stay the night."
"Yeah, we've got all day to do that." Fang munched on bit of crunchier fruit, likely some kind of pineapple. "I just haven't been out to shop like this in so long, Light..." She soon picked up her own sandwich as well. "That was actually fun, wouldn't you say?"
Lightning glanced down at her own clothes. "Serah likes shopping for things like this." She took a small bite of her sandwich, which was some form of spiced meat with a sweetened sauce, all chopped up atop a wide leaf of lettuce, with a bit of fresh tomato in between. "She's the one who brings me out there, tries to get me to enjoy it."
"And do you..?" Fang crossed one of her legs over the other, leaning back against the bench. "Enjoy it, I mean."
Lightning leaned back as well, and she tried to make herself fully relax, even with the tension that still lingered from such a sudden shift in the plaza crowds. "...It makes her happy."
Fang glanced up at the covered statue. "And you like seeing her happy."
Lightning nodded. "It makes me feel like everything else was worth it." She took a deep breath, trying to soothe away all the scattered little nerves, the sense that she had to be alert, had to watch out for any possible disturbances within the crowd. "Almost like everything I've done... It really means something when she gets to be that happy."
Fang kept eating her own lunch for a while, watching the sun as it traveled out across the sky, how the rays of light danced down across the black and white tiles of the plaza, even the decorative heights of the buildings. It moved atop the dark spires and tall clock towers, or the metal latticework that was likely hotter than an oven beneath the open heat. Fang knew that Luxerion's general aesthetic was a blend of such colors, black and white, silver and gold, and then the constant gray brickwork that made up the bulk of the city structure. Stairwells were rather popular, and so were the many balconies and grand terraces, a city of whimsical, curling metal, like so many black vines that grew out along the edges of each building. Marble was rarer, yet still utilized in many places, often in the mosaic tiles of black and white, another symbol of the duality of the gods. For even Bhunivelze himself was often attributed in darker motifs, a sharp, blinding figure within a robe of black, while Etro was often depicted as a ghostly white, usually a motherly figure, or a sister watching over her followers in silence.
Fang almost smiled at the memory of a mural she had once seen, one where Bhunivelze's presence was darker than charcoal, yet he wore a crown that was just as bright as the sun, while a pale, winged Etro lingered right beside him, bearing a deep ring of black above her forehead, as if the artist had simply painted a solid void into the mural wall, a crown of boundless night.
Lightning looked up at the sky for a while, pausing to chew on a bit of fruit. "There's something else about this place."
"This part in particular?" Fang took a big bite of the sandwich crust, almost finished with her lunch. "Or the whole city?"
"This district." Lightning glanced back down at all of the little boutiques and fancy storefronts, at the windows that had such delicate wares waiting inside, jewelry and perfume bottles of every color, or even yet another shoe store, as if dozens weren't already enough. "It seems like a nice part of town, but..." She tried to find the right words to describe what she meant, yet they just kept slipping away, far out of her grasp. "I don't know, there's just something strange about it."
Fang looked out over the bustling plaza, at the streetlamps that weren't yet glowing, for it was only afternoon. She found her gaze traveling back to the covered statue, to the sword that still resided against the fabric. "There are some... Not so great neighborhoods across the canal from here, but I always liked this district better than the ones back to the west."
Lightning kept eating her fruit. "Bad neighborhoods?"
Fang nodded. "'The Warrens', they call them, like rabbit holes." She tried not to give the very thought of it a bitter smile. "Rabbits, huh..? More like a den of weasels." Fang took a long, deep breath. "I'm not trying to generalize, Light, but I always get a real bad feeling down there, even if some of the folks aren't too sketchy; a lot of of them are just trying to keep the peace, make a living for themselves... But there's always a rotten apple in the bunch."
Lightning glanced up at the long, jagged sword. "You think someone from there might've thrown it?"
"Whoever it was, they've got incredible aim." Fang almost wanted to whistle at the sight of it. "But I'd rather not stick my nose into anything to do with places like that, not unless I have to."
"So much for a full tour of Luxerion..." Lightning smiled a little, just a hint of mirth at the edge of her lips. "You'll have to make up for it while we wait for the library."
Fang grinned as well, a warm, clever smirk. "Finish your lunch and we'll do just that."
Lightning felt her own smile widen slightly, and she almost wished that she had her hood down to hide it. "We still need to find something to bribe Serah with."
"Or you'll be in hot water..." Fang nodded. "We'll find something nice, maybe tomorrow, in the other districts."
"I'd send her a letter if we weren't... You know." Lightning thought back to the number of people who knew of the exact location of her village, likely just enough to count upon her fingertips. "There's no way I'd send more than a simple message overseas, either, too easy to get intercepted."
Fang let her mind wander off for a moment, finishing up her fruit. "Hey, that talking tree you were telling me about..."
"The chestnut?" Lightning almost sighed. "Let me guess-"
Fang leaned forward a bit. "If they can talk to each other from that great a distance..."
"I doubt the pine tree knows the chestnut, or any other tree we could find." Lightning glanced down at her feet. "And even if he does, the chestnut..." She almost wanted to roll her eyes. "Whenever I try and get Serah to walk out there and talk with him, he always plays dumb and then has a grand old time laughing to himself about it later."
Fang tried to stifle a short laugh as well. "Really?"
Lightning nodded. "I'm not even kidding, he thinks it's so hilarious whenever Serah thinks I'm an absolute nutcase."
Slowly, Fang bit down on her bottom lip. "...Nutcase."
"Tree puns." Lightning pinched at the bridge of her nose with her fingertips. "I hate tree puns."
"Nah, it was a good one." Fang leaned back again, and she slung her arm around Lightning's shoulders, resting against the back of the bench. "So there's really no way to get the message out, is there?"
Lightning took a brief moment to think. "Not unless I had it sent directly to one of my contacts, maybe the mayor in Bresha..." She suddenly leaned forward, staring out into the distance. "My contacts, they could-"
"But are you sure it'll even arrive before we get back there?" Fang set her empty plate down against the bench. "How long do you usually stay out on a hunt?"
Lightning took another moment to think. "She might've just assumed that I was staying out there for an extended observation period... Since I sent Odin back, she'll know that I reached the mountain at least."
Fang nodded to herself. "Is it normal for hunts like that?"
"It actually is, but she's probably wondering why I didn't take a trip back down to send word about it." Lightning thought back to the time when she'd stayed in the southern villages for about a month longer than she'd expected, sending back letters and updates on her progress to Sunleth, and by extension, to Serah and Hope, who always seemed so excited about even the simplest forms of research. "But with the winter weather, and how hard it is to get back down a mountain, much less climb it..."
"So, we've got a few options." Fang stretched out her arms, slowly sitting upright upon the bench. "One, Serah knows that observing a dragon is something that doesn't come around very often, and she's only a little worried; two, she's furious and ready to whip out her bow just as soon as you get back home."
Lightning tried not to wince at the thought of that. "And three?"
"Three, she thinks some nasty old dragon got the better of you up on that damn mountain." Fang tried not to smirk. "But we know that story isn't entirely true."
Lightning glanced at the sword by her belt, and then at the bowstring on her chest. "I almost won."
Fang hummed quietly, before she rose back up to her feet, carrying her empty plate along with her. "We'll call it a draw."
Lightning picked up her last piece of fruit, and she chewed on it while she stood up as well, holding her own plate in both hands. "A draw..."
"Unless you really want a rematch." Fang carried her dish back up towards the little restaurant, where there was an outdoor bin to return plates and silverware without having to go inside again. "I do seem to remember a certain challenge to spar..."
"I've healed up enough." Lightning glanced at the new sleeves on her arms, at where a gryphon's talon had once scratched against her skin, more than enough to cut and make it bleed. "My head feels fine, too."
"I can't even see bruises anymore..." Fang's voice was suddenly quieter, with almost a twinge of steady guilt. "I'm not always one to play it safe, Light, but-"
"...We'll take it easy." Lightning set her plate down in the bin. "We should use this time to rest up; if we still have all that way to fly, and then fight, we're going to need our energy."
Fang set her plate down as well. "Sounds about right."
Lightning glanced at the deep green fabric near Fang's shoulder, almost like a sash that ran all the way down to her belt. "Where should we go now?"
Fang smiled, and she stepped back towards the plaza, walking along the black and white tiles, before she gestured for Lightning to follow. "You'll see."
The shop door opened with a slight creak and the sound of jingling bells. Lightning peered at all of the aisles with odd bottles and small metal cases, and when she sniffed at the air, the scent was almost overpoweringly sweet, like rich sugar or honey, along with many flowery aromas.
Fang stepped into the store with a gentle hum, glancing around at all of the various little objects on the shelves, before she gestured for Lightning to follow after her.
It was more traditional for a shopkeeper to greet customers as soon as they walked inside, but for every store that they'd found within Luxerion, it seemed as if the customs were quite different than the usual ways. While the merchants themselves weren't aloof or unapproachable, a solid sort of silence filled most of the little boutiques, standing in sharp contrast to the noise of the crowds outside.
Lightning followed after Fang, and she wondered what she could possibly be searching there for, especially in a shop full of what seemed like mostly body products and personal cosmetics. Fang knelt down after a moment, and she began to examine a few vials of clear liquid, one of which she picked up to sniff at.
"What are you doing?" Lightning glanced around to make sure that the other patrons of the shop weren't within distance of hearing them. "Perfume, really?"
Fang nodded, and she hummed yet again. "Try this... Take a sniff."
Lightning leaned back slightly when Fang held out the bottle, one with a scented sample tag, but she slowly reached out to take it. "What kind is it?"
"Almond, I think." Fang picked up another bottle and sniffed at the tag near the cap. "Do you like perfume, Light?"
Lightning took a quick whiff of the almond scent, before she handed the bottle back to Fang. "I don't dislike it... I just wouldn't wear it."
Fang set both bottles back down on the shelf. "And why's that?"
"I doubt I could smell anything else if it was on me." Lightning shrugged. "Unless you get used to it... I don't know." She turned to look at the front windows of the store. "My mother used to wear some, she'd smell like oranges half the time, and then something a little like cinnamon."
Fang nodded, reaching for a different bottle. "If you want to look around, I'll be just a minute here."
Lightning glanced at the windows again. "Would you mind if I went to pick up a few things? Back on that other street, I saw what looked like a general store..."
Fang looked up at Lightning, trying her best to smile. "Sure, if you'd rather just meet me back here when you're done?"
Lightning smiled softly as well. "Sounds good."
Fang turned back to look at the little bottles, and she kept trying her best not to frown at the sudden absence of companionship. When the door jingled again, she slumped back, sitting down beside the rows upon rows of perfume, silently debating with herself over whether it was better to let Lightning have her space, or to be honest with her own disappointment. Weren't they supposed to be shopping for things together? Fang nearly frowned again, for while it seemed that Lightning did indeed enjoy the scent of incense, the same might not be said for more personal aromas.
Yet that sudden stubborn streak began to run high, bright and burning, for Fang had often caught the way Lightning would lean in against her whenever they were feeling intimate, and it seemed like she must enjoy her natural scent, for why else would she always snuggle so close? No, even if Lightning didn't seem very keen on hanging around in the store itself, Fang swore to herself that she would find something absolutely perfect.
The minutes passed in silence, bottle after bottle, row after row, until her nose almost started to feel numb from it all, enough that she had to step over towards one of the open windows, just for a breath of fresh air. Fang leaned against the windowsill, gazing out at the crowds and the distant plaza, where the covered statue was still guarded without pause.
"Do you need any help, ma'am?" One of the shopkeepers walked up with a small box in her arms, before she set it down near one of the shelves with scented candles. "Or are you looking for something in particular..?"
Fang tried not to sigh. "Well... It's just a little hard to find the exact thing, you know?" She turned around to look at the shopkeeper. "The right thing... I'm pretty sure I'll know what it is once I smell it, but I haven't found it yet."
The shopkeeper gave Fang a warm, knowing smile. "If you could try to describe what you're looking for..?"
Fang stepped away from the windowsill. "It's for me... And for someone else, too-" She glanced at the entrance of the shop. "To go on me, you know?"
"Ah." The shopkeeper lowered her voice ever so slightly, as if they were sharing a secret. "A special someone else? If you could just tell me what they like, I could try to point you in the right direction."
Fang nodded, but she caught herself before she could utter the word 'she'; while it wasn't quite looked down upon for women to be more than friends, at least in most places, there was always the chance that someone might find it rather strange, or even worse, be perplexed or downright hostile at the notion.
"Well, it's for someone a little more... Outdoorsy, than most." Fang followed the shopkeeper back down towards the perfume aisles. "Can't have anything with orange or cinnamon, though, that'd be a little weird."
It felt almost strange to be conversing with a stranger again, Fang realized, for she often skirted human civilization in favor of living out on her own, or with Vanille, during the time when they'd kept each other safe in more ways than from mere physical danger. How unusual, Fang thought, to be playing the part of a true human again, only it was for far more than a simple transaction. She was speaking about Lightning in a very indirect sense, how they were still well-within the stage of new commitment, right past the tipping point of mutual affection and attraction, off to the point where she was beginning to feel rather responsible and obligated to do such things, just to better herself for the both of them.
Fang had a feeling that the shopkeeper had heard the same tale many times, of a pair who were just starting out, testing the waters of what each other liked and disliked, only it was often rather difficult to rope in a certain someone to gauge their feelings on certain things.
"Practical, yes, but nothing too simple... Definitely not plain." The shopkeeper was kneeling down to rummage through one of the shelves, searching for something within the rows upon rows of perfume bottles. "And not too overpowering; I know a lot of people who want just that, but your 'special someone' doesn't sound like the type to indulge to that point, not excessively."
Fang smiled at the memory of how Lightning had fretted over the price of clothing on that very same day. "Yeah... Something that isn't extravagant, but still enough to make a real difference."
"Here, try this one. Tell me what you smell." The shopkeeper held up a tiny blue bottle, though she covered the writing on the glass with her thumb. "Just tell me the first thing that comes to mind."
Fang closed her eyes, before she leaned over to inhale scent of the test tag. She breathed in a subtle, almost faint aroma, both soft and sweet, almost like fresh rain. Fang took a moment just to think it over, despite what the shopkeeper had said, and when she caught the last few notes of what smelled like soft flowers floating within the wind, that was when she realized what it was lacking.
"Not enough presence... It's just like ambient noise, you know?" Fang opened her eyes again. "It smells pretty, yeah, but I need..." She paused, searching for the right words. "It's just too much of a pushover."
"Oh, you need power." The shopkeeper nodded sagely, before she started off towards a different section of the shop. "Something gentle, but not passive... Strong, yet not overbearing."
Fang genuinely wondered for a moment if the boutique was employing psychics, something that she knew only existed in a telepathic sense. But such things were incredibly rare in humans, and the shop that she stood within wasn't even on the map in terms of high society.
"Just like the heat of a hearth fire after coming home from a long day at work..." The shopkeeper paused beside a certain aisle with several narrow vials of perfume. "Something with force, for sure, but not necessarily something that hits the nose and blocks out everything else." She picked up a certain bottle with a rich amber liquid inside, before she held it out for Fang to try. "I'm going to tell you something that many people never quite understand about perfume..."
Fang closed her eyes again, and she breathed in the scent.
"The golden rule is to use just enough to first catch their attention..." The shopkeeper's tone was almost that of a laugh, joyful and honest, like a very old friend. "But to use just little enough to leave them leaning back in for another whiff."
It was a thicker scent, but like the shopkeeper had said, not overbearing, nor commanding, though it was immediately arresting, as if her attention was simply drawn in by a warm, easy smile or the dark curve of a smirk. The scent was a blend of what smelled like strong ginseng, that of the tree that grew at the very center of the image, and then the familiar rain that trickled down along the leaves and grass, the warm sensation of a summer storm. That was all the inner scent, Fang knew, and the aromas that lay beyond her first impression were both bright, rich and creamy, like pale flowers within the grass, yet the scent was was far more tenacious than a mere blossom. She swore it was almost like a set of claws that scratched so gently at her skin, sweet, wild and heady all at the exact same time.
Fang's next few words scarcely left her throat. "What's the flower scent?"
"A certain variety of tuberose." The shopkeeper kept standing there patiently, still holding up the tag for Fang to sample. "It's a flower that grows in clusters... Very strong and fragrant."
Fang let herself lean back again, still feeling the aftereffects of the scent, like tart little berries that left her tongue with an almost sweetened aftertaste, yet she just couldn't help but sense the impression of a sleek, wild creature resting beneath gentle raindrops and soft, dampened leaves.
The shopkeeper kept quiet for a moment or two. "Is this one more to your liking?"
Fang slowly opened her eyes, and she smiled.
The general store was almost just as crowded as the city streets, but the customers were luckily quite efficient about picking out what they needed and leaving without pause, something that Lightning felt was a rather refreshing change of pace.
She reached for up a tin of plain toothpaste and added it to the basket of daily supplies, one that she was carrying around the store. She'd also chosen a new toothbrush and a box of medicinal tablets, something she had never tried before, in lieu of her own herbal powder. Lightning glanced around at all of the unusual things, the tiny bottles of juice and even light wine, the boxes of tobacco that stood behind the front counter, and then even the case of magically cooled confections that were being clamored over by a small group of children.
Things were truly different in such a massive city, Lightning knew that much, though ever since she'd learned of such a place even existing, and then traveling to it in person... She paused, watching the way that an elderly couple walked out of the store with a full basket of goods, hand in hand, talking quietly to each other. It felt as if the deep mystery of the city was still as strong as ever, yet the old fairy tale had been utterly shattered; there were people who lived there, just like her, living, breathing people, no more unusual than any other person she'd met before.
They were almost surprisingly normal, Lightning realized, so very in tune with the abundant wealth of their city. It was almost as if there had never been any other way of living for them, no hardship or famine, nothing to steal away their homes nor those who lived within them. She slowly turned back towards the aisle of goods, and she slowly picked up a small box of candles. Was she the unusual one? A previous vagabond, a mere loner with only her family to protect, isolated and unknowing of so much of the world that waited beyond her own valley.
Perhaps she was. Lightning closed her eyes for a long moment, before she placed the box down into her shopping basket. Perhaps she truly was the odd one out, the friend of talking trees, a dragon, of spirits, and then even the goddess of death.
She could hear someone talking, even while she stared at the basket in her hands, someone who thought she couldn't hear them; it was someone who wondered out loud to one of their companions about her unusual set of clothes, more fit for evading combat than a casual day out at the plaza stores. Yet Lightning ignored it, turning a blind eye to whoever gave her more than a second glance.
A wide variety of cracker boxes awaited her in the next aisle, and she began to examine all of the different flavors. Such biscuits would stay fresh for months, wouldn't spoil in the heat, not like fruit or vegetables or milk, or even several of the other things she'd bought during the wine festival. She picked up a box or two, gently placing them down in the basket, right beside a new bar of soap and a fresh roll of sanitary tissue.
She reached down into her pocket for her wallet, walking back over towards the front counter. She still had a bit of money, though the items in her basket would likely cut it in half, leaving only the means for emergency funds. Lightning glanced up at the short line of other customers, and she quickly queued in behind them, listening to all of the different voices that ranged from calm to positively conspiratorial.
"I'm telling you, they're not going to put up with something like this... You heard what happened outside the priory, didn't you?"
"Just one wounded isn't cause for alarm; they'll weed them out before too long."
"Nobody weeds them out... They're practically the city itself by now, you know?"
"You're overreacting."
"You won't think that when the next headline reads more than a single injury... I'm telling you, I've seen it, seen them, and they're out for blood."
Lightning kept her gaze very low, but she almost swore under her breath when the group of speakers reached their turn in line, bringing the conversation down to an utter halt. They paid for their goods and left the general store, leaving Lightning as the sole occupant of the line.
The man at the counter nodded at her. "Good afternoon."
Lightning stepped up with the basket, and she placed it down on the counter, reaching for her wallet. "Afternoon... I'm a little new in town; I assume there's tax on these?"
"No tax on essentials." The man shook his head. "Nothing over two thousand gil gets taxed."
Lightning quirked a single eyebrow at that, but she simply waited for the man to count out the price of her purchase. "...Did you happen to catch the conversation, just a moment ago?"
"Terrible thing." The man shook his head again. "All I've heard was that there was a rather brief scuffle outside the priory, left one of the Order with a broken bone or two... Maybe a busted nose." He picked up the last few items from the basket. "Would you like these in a bag?"
Lightning shook her head, before she took her backpack down from her shoulders. "A scuffle at the priory... Religiously motivated, you think?"
"I've got no earthly idea, and it's far better off that way." The man nodded at the items on the counter. "Three hundred and seventy six."
Lightning rummaged for the right amount from her wallet. "Still safe to walk the streets, then?"
"Of course." The man smiled when she handed him the gil. "Just don't go into any dark alleys, stay close to the guards, and you'll be right as rain." He stole a quick glance at the sword on her belt. "Unless you're itching for some action, of course, but I can tell you this much... Stay away from the Warren."
Lightning picked up the supplies to tucked them away in her backpack, before she clasped it shut and slung it back over her shoulders, leaving the counter without another word. She pushed the door open with her shoulder, before she glanced around at the street that led back down towards the plaza. The crowds were still quite dense, even in the late afternoon, and she couldn't help but wonder if the person who had thrown that jagged sword was still out there, somewhere.
The walk back to the more recreational types of stores didn't take very long, but Lightning still lingered slightly, hoping that Fang was finished with whatever she could possibly want from that fancy little boutique. It wasn't that Lightning didn't appreciate such things, only that one too many girl-talks with Serah had made her quite weary on the entire topic. The hassle of making oneself more presentable than simply waking up and trekking out to clean the stables, for example, there was just simply no time for more than a quick face washing and brushing of one's hair before getting back to work for another day.
Serah did favor certain forms of makeup and hair products, even if they were somewhat hard to purchase when their only real contact with the outside world was with the nearby villages. But most of the local general stores did carry things for hair, the cheeks and face, smooth pigments for the mouth and tins of powder for general scent, even bottles of liquid perfume if such things sold well-enough at the time.
But whenever the topic of conversation found its way to how Serah thought Lightning should experiment more with her looks, just to see if there might be something she'd like, their interactions almost always devolved into a debate over just how practical it was to focus on trivialities when they had a paddock gate to fix or a water pipe that'd just sprung a leak, or even a roof that needed rethatching.
Lightning worked with her hands almost every day, and she'd always find herself sweaty and rather worn out by the time a longer job was finished, and the thought of even having to clean her face with more than a simple rinsing, it would often halt any ideas of attempting any of those extra things. Even if she'd sometimes admit to trying out a bit of lip coloration, either from a certain type of rubbing powder, or in rarer cases, a solid stick, that was just about the only thing she could truly stand with day to day usage.
And in that moment, Fang was likely still looking around for such things, and the mere thought of it made Lightning want to just wait outside, to not even chance the possibility of being coaxed into trying anything in there, no matter how innocent the gesture might be.
But when she made her way down the sidewalk that led between the rows of cosmetic shops, she suddenly caught sight of Fang herself, for she was leaning back against a lamp post, watching all of the various wagons that rumbled down the city streets.
Lightning almost wanted to smile. She quickened her pace just a bit, moving on through the crowds to walk next to Fang again.
"Hey." Fang smiled when she caught sight of Lightning. "Got everything you needed?"
Lightning nodded. "You have your own toothbrush, now."
Fang's smile widened slightly. "Hope you bought enough toothpaste for both of us..."
Lightning almost narrowed her eyes at the memory of so much foam dripping down Fang's chin, though she couldn't quite scold her for not knowing. A woman who lived as a dragon for most of her life, she wouldn't have any way to tell just how much of something like that was truly needed. But she was human, Lightning felt sure of that much, for her body was no illusion, neither of them were, so she only needed to learn more about daily human things, not just how to purchase something or walk among the crowds unnoticed.
"You okay, Light..?" Fang leaned away from the lamp post. "Just thinking?"
Lightning nodded to herself. "We should find somewhere to stay the night."
Fang took a moment just to look around at the streets and the nearby plaza, mentally envisioning a map of the city and all of the places where she and Vanille once stayed at, from certain rented housing to actual inns. Whenever Vanille had gone on a bit of a researching spree, it was often cheaper in the long run to simply find a place to rent, but if they were only there to find a few answers, and then move on...
Lightning glanced at the sidewalk beneath her boots. "We could try to find another inn."
"Sounds about right" Fang turned to face the street that would take them northwest. "There's a nice one not too far from here, just as long as it's still actually there..."
Lightning knew that it must be unusual to see the rise and fall of so many businesses within one lifetime, not to mention the flux of entire nations and populations, the constant tide of humanity that she herself could only read about in history books. Fang could very well have become a walking encyclopedia on the history of the world, if only she didn't have a tendency to live out in the woods for several thousands of years at a time.
They made their way through the crowds, hidden within the guise of simple tourists. Lightning kept her hood down, and she followed closely after Fang, who didn't seem the slightest bit unnerved when the city streets grew more and more massive, longer and wider and filled with so many more people than before, most of which looked dressed up enough for high class events.
"Prayer days." Fang murmured it just loud enough for Lightning to hear. "People get all fancy for these, more than usual..."
Lightning glanced at a woman who wore a rather distinct gown, golden yellow and tied with long strips of white fur at both the waist and neckline, likely the hide of a mink or an ermine.
"Non-mandatory, though, just a chance to dance around..." Fang bit back her next few words, and she only spoke them once they had reached a narrow pathway that led up to what looked like an inn. "Dance around in 'devotion', or in reverence to the gods."
Lightning followed Fang through the gated path, glancing around at all of the tropical flowers that grew on either side of the lawn. "And you wonder why I don't go to church?"
"I do wonder, only because of the way Etro operates." Fang stepped up to the entryway, where more than a few people were loitering around on the terraces above the gardens. "We'll get to the bottom of this, Light."
Lightning just kept following after Fang, up into the grand front hallway, where she slowly approached the front desk, stepping out across the polished marble floors. "I hope we do."
"We will... And I've got my ways." Fang reached over to squeeze Lightning's shoulder. "Let me handle this one, okay?"
Lightning's nose suddenly twitched at the scent on Fang's wrist, which hovered right there in her peripheral vision for a moment, before Fang suddenly moved away, walking up towards the front desk. But what was that strange smell on her skin? Had she actually put some perfume on herself?
Fang just stepped up to start the process of booking a single room, chatting up the inn attendant in a rather casual way. It was enough to make Lightning step up beside her, though she kept her gaze anywhere but upon her companion.
It was perfume, she felt sure of it; Lightning tried not to let her nostrils twitch as she took a deeper breath, lingering right beside where Fang was leaning slightly against the counter of the desk. Why did it feel like she could barely catch it,, Lightning wondered, why was the scent so incredibly elusive?
Fang seemed quite oblivious to the presence at her side, yet in her mind, she had to fight back a smirk at the way Lightning almost brushed up against her, a keen nose on the trail of something quite new, and hopefully intriguing.
Lightning narrowed her eyes slightly, and she stifled the urge to bite at her bottom lip. How frustrating it was, Fang must have planned it, she knew that much, just to gauge Lightning's own reaction to wearing such scents, purchasing some for herself to wear, and then lure her in.
"Full bathroom included?" Fang smiled softly at the thought of floral shampoo, something she'd also bought at the very same boutique, a bottle of which was resting right inside her shoulder bag. "Excellent."
Lightning tried not to shiver at the tone in Fang's voice, and she waited in silence, listening to the sounds of a ticking clock at the very center of the lobby. She felt her heart quicken when Fang leaned back slightly, just enough to brush against her own clothes.
The lobby itself was rather empty and soundless, all except for a couple of people who were sitting in the armchairs, reading what looked like stacks of printed paper or chatting among themselves, and a few were even playing cards. But Lightning had a feeling that none of them were even looking their way, so she felt safe enough to let herself lean back against Fang's touch.
Fang's smile widened, but she let it drop slightly when the receptionist returned with their room key.
The minutes ticked on, and Lightning almost felt herself start to scowl at the fact that she couldn't just lean over and figure out what that scent could really be. For what began feel like more than just a moment or two, she let herself plan out exactly what sort of retaliation was appropriate.
Before long, they only had a rather short walk away from the desk, yet the two of them still said nothing even while climbing a long flight of stairs, past the paintings of old hotel owners, some of which Fang actually recognized. They were likely all lost to the passage of time, but Fang's mind soon drifted back to other things, to the way Lightning was staying absolutely silent.
Fang took a very deep breath. Was Lightning annoyed at the new scent? Her eyebrows were closer to each other than usual, a clear sign of disquiet, but did that mean she truly wasn't pleased? Fang kept walking up the stairs, gripping the room key in her palm until it started to leave a mark, but she ignored the small twinge of pain.
It was only once they approached the door of their room, one that stood right beside the light of a window, only then did Fang suddenly feel herself get shoved forward as the door creaked open, before her hand was swiftly grabbed in gentle, yet steely grip.
"What is that?" Lightning pushed the door shut with her boot, slowly forcing Fang to back up against the wall, before she leaned in, inhaling against the wrist within her grasp. "What did you put on?"
Fang smirked just a bit, and she peered the way Lightning's nose kept twitching ever so slightly, trying to find the source of the elusive scent. "Maybe that should be a secret..."
Lightning fought the urge to merely pinch Fang's wrist, and she leaned in instead, searching for a stronger hint.
Fang exhaled, before she let out a hum when Lightning breathed against the bottom curve of her throat, a certain pulse point where the perfume would only intensify from the heat of her blood. Lightning felt herself lean in further, felt Fang's arms wrap around her waist, beneath her backpack, before one of them snaked up and around to touch her shoulder.
"You like it?" Fang spoke in a low murmur, and she leaned back a bit to catch Lightning's gaze. "Took a while to find one that felt right."
"It smells like you." Lightning felt a slight bit of hesitation; such intimacy usually only occurred when they were both quite settled in or sleepy, hardly ever within the height of daylight itself. "Not like your normal scent, but... You."
"I won't wear it if you don't like it." Fang nipped at the edge of Lightning's jaw, listening to the almost silent sound of surprise, and then the way Lightning began to hum just as silently, just a slight vibration in her chest. "I want us to be... In tune with this, you know? It should feel special."
Lightning kissed at Fang's jawline as well, before she slowly leaned away. "Maybe tonight will be special."
Fang felt her mouth slip into a smile, and then the sudden warmth against her lips, just a bit of affection, reassurance that she had indeed chosen something that Lightning liked, it was more than enough to kiss her next few breaths away.
"...I need a bath." Lightning leaned their foreheads together. "I just haven't had the time to get my hair untangled in days."
"It looks fine." Fang's smile almost faltered at the force in her own words, an unintended push of protection, a protest that didn't seem to have any visible source. "It's... It's just fine, Light."
Lightning narrowed her eyes at whatever could possibly be hidden there, at why Fang felt the need to defend her lack of thorough hygiene.
"They should have warm water here." Fang stepped away to approach the main room, where only a single bed stood, though it was much wider than the one they'd slept in before. "Haven't had a freshwater bath in ages..."
Lightning pulled her backpack down from her shoulders, and she set it down on a chair beside the bed. "I bought some new soap."
Fang sat down against the edge of the bed, tugging her boots off from both of her feet. "What sort of soap?"
"Plain soap." Lightning picked up the tiny chunk of soap from her pack, a bar that was wrapped in a sheet of wax paper and a thin bit of twine. "Nothing fancy."
Fang let her own bag flop down against the sheets of the bed, where she started to rummage inside it. "Alright, Light, here's what we're going to do..."
It felt like more than an hour had passed by within the tub, submerged in a bath of warm, bubbly water, swirling with far more scents that she had any idea how to process.
And Fang was there, near the very edge of the bath, gently scrubbing at those soft pink locks, working out the tangles with each of her nimble fingertips. The shampoo on her hands had since foamed out into a delightful lather, thick and solid and creamy.
Beforehand, Lightning almost tried to protest the whole idea, perhaps out of concern that Fang was trying to coddle her again, but those damn puppy dog eyes just caught her right off guard. She'd just bitten back a soft sigh, then lowered herself beneath the water, resting her head against the end of the bathtub, enough to allow Fang to have that moment of tenderness.
Perhaps she was just making up for lost time, or trying to find a way to be more than simply useful. Perhaps Fang had those sudden moments of loneliness as well, and such things could be channeled away with caring for one of the people who stood closest to her heart.
"You aren't asleep, are you?" Fang's words barely left her mouth, just as silent as the little bubbles between her fingertips. "I wouldn't mind."
Lightning shook her head. "You'd better finish this up so I can do the same for you."
Fang's smile returned, wide and warm beneath the afternoon sun. "My hair is untameable."
"Nothing's untameable." Lightning opened her eyes for a moment, hazy and soft from all of the sensations wrapped up around her, from the warm water and floral scents, almost intoxicating in their own right. "I tamed a dragon, I can tame a mane of hair."
Fang leaned in to whisper against Lightning's ear. "But what if the dragon tamed herself..?" She smiled at the subtle shift in Lightning's breathing, how it quickened at those sudden sounds. "What if she's still just as wild, but she plays nice because she likes you?"
"Then I'd say the dragon is too full of herself..." Lightning stretched out one of her legs to rest it against the nearest edge of the tub. "That she might think she's wild, but she cares too much about her friends to live like that."
Fang's fingertips began to slow against Lightning's hair, moving to gently rub along her scalp. "What if her friends are wild, too?"
Lightning closed her eyes again. "Then they can all be wild together." She almost shivered at the sudden kiss at the back of her neck. "You're going to get soap in your mouth."
Fang shrugged. "It's worth it."
"Sure..." Lightning released a quiet sigh, drifting back into silence again. She could feel the fingertips moving beneath her hair, how they made sure to touch every inch, every bit of skin that they could possibly clean. "What sort of shampoo is that?"
Fang smiled again. "Smells almost like lemon, doesn't it?" She glanced at the bottle that stood on the floor beside her. "Just something that someone helped me pick..."
Lightning murmured her next few words, breathing in the various scents."You really went all-out, didn't you?"
"I won't have the chance to do stuff like this once we leave here." Fang took in a deep breath of the scents as well. "Not until we make it back home... To your home."
Lightning sat up slightly, and she glanced back over her shoulder, still quite covered in bubbles. "It can be yours, too."
Fang leaned forward to cup a bit of water into her hands. "Only if you let me do this more often."
"...I'll think about it." Lightning closed her eyes, but she still moved to help Fang rinse the soap away, leaving her hair all shiny and slick, a much darker shade of pink than whenever it was dry. "Do you know much about human traditions, Fang?"
Fang reached out to flick away a bit of bubbly shampoo from Lightning's shoulder. "What sort of traditions?"
Lightning squeezed her eyes shut tighter. "Maybe we should talk about this later."
Fang leaned back a little. "Why's that?"
"Because I was about to use Snow as an example... He's already asked for my blessing with Serah." Lightning took a deep breath. "I don't want to think about him right now, but you're really going to need to make friends with Serah once we get back."
Fang fought down a smirk. "...And why's that, Light?"
Lightning tried not to smirk as well. "Because she's going to find out sooner or later, and she'll hound you down once she realizes that she was right."
Fang reached up to stroke her fingertips against Lightning's jaw. "That you prefer women?"
Lightning shook her head. "That I don't prefer anyone... You just waltzed right in and broke every rule, Fang, and I'm not even sure how you did it."
Fang took a moment to think that over. "It could be that you don't prefer people who you don't know very well... Maybe I was the first to come along and do that."
Lightning shrugged. "You're the first of something, but I don't know what." She moved over in the bath, making room for Fang to step in as well. "...It's not that I ever used to have trouble with friends."
Fang nodded, before she stepped over the edge of the tub.
"And I do like feeling this way." Lightning leaned back at the other end of the stony bathtub, relaxing within the soapy water. "But I didn't need it before, not like this." She took a moment to stare at all of the patterns on the ceiling, a similar sort of checkerboard print as the tiles of the plaza, only it was much harder to see where each color stood against the other. "I think it's only because you're like me... You know what I'm feeling, and you know what helps to make things better."
Fang eased herself down into the warm water as well, and she soon placed the bottle of shampoo down on the edge of the tub. "I'd bet telepathy helps."
Lightning moved forward again. "Don't discredit yourself." She waited for Fang to relax, before she began the very same treatment upon that long, dark mane of hair, watching the way that the shampoo made the sleek red outlines glisten all the more brightly. "Even without that, you're a very loyal friend... You don't back down when it really means something."
Fang almost purred at the feeling of Lightning's fingertips within her hair, soothing and lathering the soap up into a fine layer of bubbles.
Lightning lowered her voice to a whisper. "When I was... About nine, I think, just learning swordplay, some of my friends were having a sleepover one night, the one I told you about."
Fang closed her eyes, relaxing into the gentle massage.
Lightning tried not to sigh at the memory. "I don't even remember her name... We didn't know each other very well, all the better to take up a dare." She scrubbed at those dark locks of hair, and she almost smiled at the way Fang leaned right into her touch. "It was just... It was like nothing, just skin on skin, not like the way you make me feel whenever we kiss."
"Nine, that's pretty young, I'm not surprised you didn't feel much... I think right now, you just need it to be someone you really know." Fang hummed quietly, still with her eyes shut. "Someone you care for... Sounds about right?"
"I think the problem is that I don't care about a lot of people." Lightning tried not to frown. "I'm not trying to be cold, or arrogant-"
"No, nobody can care for everyone." Fang reached back to pat at Lightning's knee. "When you lose someone, Light... It's really hard to start caring about anyone else."
Lightning nodded. "In case you lose them, too..."
"Exactly, don't tie up the strings in the first place and they won't get snapped away." Fang opened her eyes again, gazing at the marble sink and the small cabinet on the wall, but she soon focused her attention upon the windowsill, where the afternoon light still played so gently beneath the clouds. "I won't lose you."
Lightning reached down to squeeze one of Fang's hands, holding it beneath the layer of foam and water.
"I won't lose any of my family, not again." Fang closed her eyes once more, before she slowly relaxed against the warmth of Lightning's chest. "It's happened too many times... But I'm powerful, now."
And Lightning felt it, then, the force of a slumbering dragon, the steady guardian of their inner hearts, primal and wild, yet loving all the same.
"I'll burn it." Fang could feel Lightning's heartbeat thrumming against her spine. "If anything tries to take this from us, I'll burn it."
Lightning slowly moved to keep washing the locks of Fang's hair. "...I believe you."
"Vanille's tried make me a pacifist, at least on my own terms." Fang suddenly smiled, a dragon smile, a show of teeth and that deep, underlying pride, the desire to reveal just how absolutely deadly she could be. "I don't hurt anyone... I try not to, but they can burn if they get between me and my family."
While Fang's wings could carry them both, they could shelter and hug, they could even hold, it was her fire that chased away any threats, and it was her teeth and claws that could rend their foes to shreds, could keep her loved ones safe from such harm. Lightning wondered about that for a moment, and she wondered why she felt so utterly safe with such a powerful being in her arms, though she was careful to keep that thought to herself. Was it because she knew Fang was afraid to lose her? Or perhaps Lightning just trusted the human side, the fact that Fang was not a true loner, that she was willing to die for her family's sake.
Such a gentle gesture, washing out her long, wild hair into smooth waves and curls, making the tangles unravel and flow like water again. Lightning ran her fingertips down over those dark locks, and she could smell the strong scent of the soap, the aroma of the wild perfume, more like the chosen signature of a dragon than anything else. Something that could be just as soft as flower petals, yet strong enough to shield them both from whatever threats they might find out there in the world, within the deep gray city of blooded streets, a place of both utter divine light and a lurking, boundless dark.
Bottles and plates clinked against the wooden tables, and a single candle flickered near the windowsill, illuminating the evening air and the slow, cozy atmosphere of the little restaurant.
Fang's hair was clipped back slightly, Lightning's own handiwork once they'd finished bathing, and there was a certain sheen to the red outline since it had been treated with such a silky shampoo.
Lightning sat there as well, feeling fresh and so very clean again, not in the way that saltwater would always leave her with more of a tacky feeling against her skin, like the salt itself was clinging to her.
"Little places like this..." Fang lowered her voice just a bit, gazing at the light of the candle. "Holes in the wall, if you can find the right ones, there's no other place in the world that can compare."
Lightning smiled softly. "This doesn't look like a hole in the wall."
"For Luxerion it might be." Fang lowered her voice even further, just a whisper. "Bunch of snobs, most of them... Hard to get a decent conversation out of anyone in those fancy districts."
Lightning stared at the wooden table for a while, drawing invisible designs beneath her fingertips. "How long do prayer days usually last? Just the weekend?"
Fang nodded. "We'll have a day tomorrow to look around, maybe we can check if any of the other statues are getting the same treatment..." She took a moment just to smell the various scents of nearby food platters, but it seemed as if their own table would just have to wait. "Crazy stuff, Light."
"I know." Lightning slowly leaned back in her chair. "It was like the crowd just went tense all at once, like a school of fish clumping together... Like they were panicked."
Fang tried not to frown. "You know why fish panic."
Lightning almost wished that her pendant wasn't back up there in their hotel room, safely stowed away inside her backpack; if only she had it there with her to touch it, to feel the familiar chill of silver between her fingertips. "I couldn't see anyone suspicious in the crowd."
Fang nodded, before she leaned forward, resting her forearms against the table. "But you know better than anyone else..." She lowered her voice to a softer whisper, and her gaze flicked up to look right into Lightning's eyes. "Just how easy it is for a wolf to walk around in sheep's clothing."
Lightning would have been lying if she'd said her blood hadn't started to run cold, or if she didn't feel the slightest bit of curiosity at the truth within Fang's words. "Fang... Do you know of people in Luxerion who worship Etro?"
A small, almost saddened smile, before Fang let her gaze drop back down to the candlelit table. "Like I said, most elusive of the bunch." She stretched out her legs beneath the table, careful not to bump them against Lightning. "Like wolves, you know; you hardly ever see them if they don't want you to."
Lightning folded her arms against the tabletop, and she slowly closed her eyes. "Blood in the streets..."
Fang smiled again, softer than before. "Don't mess with the wolves."
They walked over the path outside of the dimly lit restaurant, wandering back through the evening air, swept along by the scents of so many cobblestones and distant flowers.
Luxerion was truly haunting at night; the washed out grays grew almost black without the light of the sun, and the pathways became even more distinct, with only the streetlamps to reveal them. Chessboard patterns, the symbolic motif of the entire city, they seemed to be everywhere in sight.
Lightning leaned in against Fang's shoulder, holding her hand beneath the fabric of her cloak, so that nobody else could see it, none but those who looked at them from the front. And yet Lightning held no fear in her heart, not of Fang's presence, nor even of the sheer silence in the streets.
There were still a few scattered crowds, mingling beneath the glow of the streetlights, like so many downy moths taking shelter beneath a small speck of flame.
Fang smiled at the chill breeze of the air, a welcome relief from the heat of the day. Though her skin prickled slightly at the sound of a stray cat, one who yowled as it darted beneath the edge of a unattended carriage, before it quietly meowed into the darkness.
"We should get some rest." Lightning slowly rubbed her thumb against Fang's knuckles. "It'll be nice to sleep in an actual bed again."
Fang felt a bit of deep warmth in her chest, kindled by the soft touch of Lightning's fingertip, slowly circling around the knuckle of her index finger. "Better than blankets on the ground?"
Lightning smiled slightly, but then she reached up, tugging her hood down to hide it. "I think you know the answer to that."
It was a slow pace, beneath the light of the moon and the distant streetlamps, just a gentle touch of one mouth against the other, before the door clicked shut behind them with a dull echo.
"We can sleep if you want." Fang felt Lightning's breath quicken against her lips. "I won't-" She was silenced by that sudden warmth, of a hooded figure leaning up to kiss her, stealing the breath from her lungs.
Lightning's eyes slid shut, and she didn't even open them when Fang gently tugged her hood away. "I don't want to sleep yet."
Fang traced over the outline of such thick fabric, down to the leather belt on Lightning's waist, where her sword still lingered beside her hip. "Right, but you'd tell me if you weren't up for it, wouldn't you?"
Lightning opened her eyes for just a moment. "I won't mess around with this... If I say I want you, I want you."
Fang smiled softly, before she leaned in for another slow swipe of her tongue, just bordering at the edge of Lightning's lip. "I just don't want you to ever feel obligated."
Lightning leaned in as well, but she broke away for just a second or two, breathing deep. "Do I seem like the person who'd do this under obligation?"
Fang murmured something quiet into their next kiss, deeper than the first few, a mesh of tongue and warm breath, of testing and tasting, pushing back any boundaries that might have still been hanging on by a thread. "Point taken..."
Lightning pushed, nudging Fang further and further into the darkened room, relying on the mere moonlight to see where she was going.
"You mind if I try something new?" Fang whispered into the space between kisses, a breathless sort of pause. "I think you'll like it."
Lightning reached up to tug at the sashlike fabric at Fang's chest. "Yes... Now stop talking."
Fang blinked when the back of her own thighs brushed against the edge of the bed. "No talking?"
"You can't kiss me when you're talking." Lightning pulled the clasp open at the side of Fang's waist cloth, right above her belt. "Not even you're that good-" She almost gasped at the sudden heat, how Fang kissed her soundlessly, deep and rather dominant.
I am that good. Fang squeezed Lightning's hand, running a single fingertip across her wrist. Dragons are pretty prickly about their prowess, if you didn't know...
Lightning leaned in further so that Fang could set the pace, murmuring something unintelligible whenever they broke for just a moment of air, before that clever tongue touched her own again.
"You look amazing in that..." Fang sat herself down against the edge of the bed, before she slowly trailed her fingertips up and over the curve of Lightning's waistline, beyond the leather chestpiece, hidden by the soft gray fabric above. "But you'd look even better with it on the floor."
Lightning narrowed her eyes. "It goes on the chair, or on the table... It was a gift from someone very close to me."
Fang smiled, before she leaned in again, leaving a single kiss against the end of Lightning's nose. "And who was this 'someone'? Should I be worried?" She reached down to unbuckle the top of the gray outfit, helping that soft skin to stand free again, an almost ghostly white beneath the glow of the moonlight. "Is it someone handsome?"
Lightning bit her own bottom lip when Fang slid her hands across the small of her back. "I think you already know the answer to that..."
"Well, then I'll whip them to hell and back if they ever hurt you." Fang nuzzled at the curve of Lightning's chin with her own nose. "You just have to tell me."
"You won't hurt me, Fang." Lightning shivered when Fang helped her out from her top, leaving only the thin wrap of cloth around her chest. "You won't-"
"Can't fault a girl for being protective." Fang slid her hands down against Lightning's waist, right above the edge of her belt. "Dragons are always protective, you know."
Lightning reached for the clip upon the fabric around her chest, but she paused when Fang moved in to unclasp it for her. "Protective... Am I a gold coin, then? Just a part of her treasure?"
Fang growled, soft and low in her throat. "No."
Lightning shivered again when the fabric fell free, and she leaned over against the bed, planting her hands on either side of where Fang sat. "What am I, then?"
Fang nipped the fluttering pulse in Lightning's throat, before she leaned back, bringing her down with her. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were a dragon, too."
Lightning almost smiled, and she leaned in to kiss at the top of Fang's forehead. "I'm not a dragon."
Fang felt the way that Lightning slowly settled atop her waist, halfway upon the sheets with both of their legs dangling off the side of the bed, yet she just couldn't muster up the effort to care. "What are you, then?"
Lightning breathed out a low scoff, leaning in for another kiss. "I already asked you that."
Fang hummed in response, before she welcomed Lightning's mouth with a steady hand at the back of her head, threading her fingertips down into the locks of that soft pink hair. "Well..." When they finally broke, still breathing heavily, Fang took just a moment to think. "You're still wearing pants."
Lightning closed her eyes when Fang's hands dipped beneath her waistband, circling the curves of her hips.
"As far as I know, jaguars don't wear pants, so we can rule that out." Fang reached back up to unbuckle Lightning's belt. "But you're certainly just as agile as one."
Lightning almost shivered as the cool air brushed against her skin, before she moved herself over towards the middle of the bed, tugging off the rest of her trousers while she did so. "These will not touch the floor."
Fang sighed, but she merely she set down the pants that Lightning handed her against the seat of the chair, the one that stood right next to the bed. "Yes ma'am."
Lightning pulled off both of her boots and the socks that lay beneath them, which she set down beside her own end the bed. "I'm not a wolf, either."
Fang smiled, before she crawled across the sheets like silk, silent and intent, yet still gentle in a very certain way. "That's debatable."
Lightning felt her breath hitch when the sudden warmth of Fang's hands cupped the bottom curve of her breasts, bare and soft, so pale beneath the light of the moon.
"Not a coin, not a wildcat, not a wolf..." Fang smiled at the way Lightning squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to squirm beneath the experimental touch, the gentle squeeze, even the soft breaths against one of her nipples. "I'd almost say you were human."
Lightning bit back a whimper when Fang kissed the swell of her breast.
"But, you could be my little bird again if you like." Fang reached up to smooth one of her hands through Lightning's hair. "I remember painting something like this, this pose... You were always so good at keeping still."
Lightning almost wanted to retort that her current rate of breath was anything but still, that the mouth teasing some of her most sensitive skin was anything but relaxing, though she'd never wish to halt it, all the same. For her blood was rushing, and her heart was fluttering like the nickname Fang had once chosen, like a tiny starling in her chest.
"But you're no songbird..." Fang leaned in, leaving her previous place a bit more than cold and wanting, before she whispered each of her words against Lightning's cheek. "Silent, that's what you are... You only sing when you see fit." She slowly nipped at Lightning's bottom lip, and then at the base of her neck. "You're too honest to sing when you don't mean it."
Lightning reached up to tangle her hands into Fang's soft muss of hair. "Why'd you stop?"
"Because we still have a question to answer." Fang moved her hands back down to Lightning's chest, silencing any protests that would've arrived if she hadn't. "You're only mine if you want to be... It just wouldn't be real otherwise."
Lightning felt herself start to pant and arch her spine when Fang returned to her chest, finally paying attention to her breasts again. Perhaps she didn't need an answer, not right then, not when there was so much need in those soft little whimpers, not when she'd tamed the jaguar down into a kitten, brought a hunter to her softest state, still just as strong, but open to every long stroke of her tongue.
"Fang." Lightning bit down on her own lip again, shifting her hips against the silken bed sheets, but Fang just kept licking her in slow, easy circles, taking more and more into the warmth of her mouth. "Fang..."
Fang just hummed against Lightning's breast, before she slowly reached to down squeeze the curve of her backside. Lightning squirmed without really meaning to, still gasping and panting so softly, and she moved her legs around Fang's waist without even realizing it, drawing them even closer together. Fang licked a smooth stripe between Lightning's breasts, tasting the heartbeat beneath her skin, a thudding pace, far louder than the roar of thunder in her ears. Lightning felt the rumble in her own blood, felt the way that Fang suddenly straddled her waist to take off the last few bits of her own clothing, clearing every bit of space that stood in between them.
There was no cage she could build, no desire to lock Lightning in, no will to stifle that burning flame, the spirit in her heart, and Fang almost cursed the rest of the world for the very nature of doing so. But perhaps Lightning didn't see it, or had learned to ignore it, choosing to live within her own terms, something that Fang knew better than most anyone else. Lightning reached up, leaning forward to kiss Fang again, drawing her away from those bitter thoughts. She knew not to dwell on such things, knew to let them slide off of her skin like rainwater, harmless and only just as weighted as the strength of the storm.
Fang kissed her back, she hummed into Lightning's mouth, against that warm tongue and those soft lips, tasting the breath from her throat and the quiet sounds when she tested another touch. It was no small wonder that Lightning was so muscular, so soft and steely at the very same moment in time, and when Fang slowly leaned back down again, urging her to stay still, to rest against the plushy pillows, those muscles made themselves known in the way Lightning's arms reached up again, just to keep Fang still as well.
"What are you doing?" Lightning cupped Fang's face in her hands, stroking across the curve of her cheekbones. "Don't leave."
"I'm not leaving." Fang soothed one of her hands over Lightning's taut belly. "Trust me, okay? This'll feel good."
Lightning slowly relaxed, sinking down against the pillows. "...Something different?"
"Very." Fang leaned in to kiss Lightning's cheek. "Just relax."
Lightning tried, she honestly tried, but her fingertips just kept shaking and twitching to the point where she gripped the sheets beneath her, trying to ignore the way Fang's warm breath drifted against her lower stomach.
"It's alright to be a little nervous." Fang leaned her cheek in to rest beside Lightning's navel, gazing at the silver stud of her piercing. "I'll be real gentle."
Lightning fought to keep herself still when Fang rubbed her fingertips around the tiny bit of jewelry, as if she was admiring the way it looked beneath the moonlight.
Fang purred against Lightning's skin, moving lower. "Relax."
Lightning swallowed on an empty breath, feeling every short moment pass by like an utter eternity, before she felt herself curl up and gasp at the first touch of a warm, soft mouth against her inner thigh.
Fang kissed along the smooth skin, the strong, tensing muscles, before she smoothed her hand over Lightning's other leg to try and help her calm down, for she surely realized what was about to happen. Lightning squeezed her eyes shut, shivering at the warm, fluttery breath on her skin.
"Do you want this?" Fang's mouth lingered at the spot she'd kissed. "I need to know, Light."
Lightning forced herself to breathe slower, though it was still so ragged and tense, and she slowly nodded her head. "Yes."
Fang leaned in to inhale her scent, to witness the pink curls that seemed much darker in the moonlight. "Just breathe."
And Lightning did just that. She brought in a sudden breath, trembling with every iron muscle, right down to her toes, which slowly curled at the way Fang began to kiss her outer folds.
"Lightning." Fang reached up to hold Lightning's hand, gently tugging it away from the sheets. "Relax, love."
Lightning fought the urge to shiver again, but it became uncontrollable with the way Fang kissed her so deeply, so soft and warm, almost like a normal kiss, but so much more nerve-shattering. "How.. How am I supposed to relax?" She tried to keep herself from trembling or crying out, so incredibly sensitive all at once. "You... Can't do that and tell me to relax."
Fang lifted her head to sit up slowly, even when Lightning almost seemed to protest, despite the little shivers that ran down her spine.
"Don't stop." Lightning took in a deep breath, steeling herself, before she rose up to press her forehead against Fang's shoulder. "I'm sorry." She almost shivered again when she was swept into Fang's arms, held tight against her whole body, and then nuzzled at her own neck.
"Don't." Fang smoothed her hands down Lightning's spine. "Don't be sorry... We all get nervous."
Lightning could feel the slightly unsteady pace of Fang's heartbeat, but it was nowhere near as frantic as her own. "Why aren't you nervous?"
"Because I remember." Fang spoke each word into the pulse of Lightning's neck. "I remember you like this, only when you weren't nervous... When you were just as brave as I've ever seen you." She reached up to stroke beside her ears. "Weakness doesn't make you any less of a person, Light, it just makes you human."
Lightning leaned in to rest her chin against Fang's shoulder. She could smell the faintest hint of perfume, washed away by the water and soap, but it was still just enough to tinge Fang's scent. "I'm already a pretty weird human."
"And I wouldn't want it to be any different." Fang held her tightly, before she leaned back a bit, letting Lightning sit against her lap. "...Then we wouldn't both be weird humans."
Lightning bit her bottom lip again, and she slowly eased back to look Fang in the eye. "You know how I handle fear."
Fang nodded, leaning forward to press their mouths together, and she breathed out her next few words. "I do."
It was simpler, then, just to let Fang press her back down into the sheets, not quite a dominant gesture, but strong all the same. Lightning leaned in for those breathy little kisses, even when Fang set a single fingertip against her open mouth, halting her for only a moment.
"Let me try again?" Fang let herself lean back, and she waited for Lightning to speak.
Another moment passed, just as silent as the gentle moonlight, before Lightning nodded, reaching to squeeze both of Fang's hands. "I trust you."
Fang leaned down to kiss Lightning's navel again. "Same here."
Lightning closed her eyes, and she shivered all at once, feeling the way Fang kissed down her stomach towards the short curls between her thighs, and then, when that tongue found such sensitive skin again, only then did she whimper and breathe out with tiny, shaking gasps.
Fang flicked her tongue against the skin above Lightning's clit, finding it, taking it gently beside her mouth, and she could feel the steady, thrumming pulse from where she was still holding Lightning's wrists.
Lightning cried once, low and breathy and ragged, but she didn't move away, slowly churning her hips into Fang's gentle touch, not anywhere else, not anyplace away from that wonderful heat, against the softness of her tongue.
Fang licked at the warmth further down, and she hummed low in her throat. She let go of one of Lightning's hands, letting it grasp at the sheets, before she took her own fingertips to rest against one of those shivering thighs.
Lightning turned her head around to press against the pillow, desperate to do something just to quell the coiling heat in her lower belly, a tightening sensation that only wound more and more rigidly with each press and roll of that warm tongue, each stroke at the gathering liquid between her curls.
Fang hummed again. She remembered the way Lightning had once gripped down at her hair in another life, breathing hoarsely while she did just the same sort of thing, drawing on the sensitive bit of skin for all she was worth, but it was seemed too early to do something like that. No, Lightning needed a gentle touch, needed something to build up the trust and make it solid, to let her tumble from such heights into Fang's waiting arms, something to prove those words down into a fact.
Lightning panted against the soft fabric of the pillow, and she squirmed slightly when Fang moved to breathe in her scent, though she swiftly pressed back down, taking that same spot of nerves back against her tongue. Was she just going to keep touching her until it became too much to handle? Lightning's eyes drifted out of focus, and she slowly reached down to touch at Fang's mane of hair with her free hand, still twining their fingertips with her other.
Fang purred at the stroking touch, just enough gentle encouragement to keep holding her at the very edge of darkness, at the point between physical pleasure and the great void beyond consciousness, the stars that would bloom beneath her eyelids, blinding away her from everything else, even the thoughts within her mind.
It might have been the way Fang suddenly squeezed at Lightning's hand, or licked that one last time that would push her over the edge, for either way, Lightning cried so softly that the sound barely left her throat, tensing, releasing, finally bucking against Fang's mouth with a ragged whimper, but even then, she only came on a quiet cry, tightly hugging herself to the bed sheets.
"Shh..." Fang took a moment to lap her tongue beneath those warm, wet curls. "You're okay."
Lightning still panted such sharp little breaths, and she trembled in her sudden high, like she was floating away again, like the first time Fang had touched her and brought her into such a humble state, soft and vulnerable within their chosen resting place. Lightning's eyes slipped shut, dazed and blinded by sheer white, and she barely even felt Fang move up to plant a steady kiss against her shoulder.
Maybe it was that very state of being helpless, exhausted by the way her muscles tensed and seemingly exploded into nothing, maybe it was the way Fang leaned in so gently to kiss each of her eyelids, a tender gesture, full of warmth and love, or maybe it was simply the chemicals in her mind running wild. She'd lost herself for that brief moment, letting go of absolutely everything, and when she finally opened her eyes, still so bleary, to glance at Fang's face, there was that same look of gentleness in her gaze.
"You look a little dreamy..." Fang settled herself down on the same pillow, and she let herself listen to those uneven little breaths for a while, envisioning the sound of Lightning's heartbeat. "Felt good, didn't it?"
Lightning tried to nod, yet she could only blink, and then twitch the muscles in her neck, before she slowly leaned in to brush their foreheads together.
Fang knew it was only a matter of time before the exhaustion wore off, giving way to reciprocation and many more kisses than she could count, but in that moment, she held no desire to rush such things along. Lightning was there, and she looked so utterly at peace, so sleepy and sweaty, soft pink hair fanned out against the pillow. Her chest rose and fall, and her breasts were still a bit rosy from the lingering attention, not to mention that one spot that Fang had nipped along her neck.
They would dance again, would press themselves closer and closer to the edge of oblivion and back again, would play along the primal lines that ran far deeper than either of them could see, the base desire of having a partner to indulge in, if only for that a brief little while.
A soulmate, Fang realized, was one that she could always find herself flying back to, someone who made her feel as if she was finally at home, at peace within herself and the world far beyond her own skin. Soulmates were bound by that same invisible force, drifting back and forth like the traveling stars, like the waves of a bottomless sea, two hearts settling beside each other and held together like a pair of fluttering birds. The two of them were given the choice to take their own pathways, to wander that cold earth in solitude, a far safer path for the heart, but not for the spirit within. A family often began with the two who encountered each other and found much more than companionship, found someone steady to lean on, someone who'd felt once that very same pain of loss.
Fang reached up to push a lock of pink hair behind Lightning's ear. There she was, the one who would readily take the pain for her family, would accept one who didn't quite fit the standard definition of human, though if she was to be honest, Fang knew neither of them really matched with the rest.
Perhaps she wasn't a wolf, yet the world would often see her as one. They would look upon a predatory force, the one who must live on her own to escape being seen in that way.
Fang closed her eyes, and she let her thoughts wander away until Lightning was ready to move on again, to let her lose herself as well, caught within the gentle, tugging snare of darkness.
It was a dream that found her late in the night, a vision brought on by both exhaustion and a blank state of mind, one who was ready to see what had once occurred in a life beyond her own.
The air was heavy and thick beneath the summer sunlight, and Fang sat there on her doorstep, watching the way Bahamut flew up above.
"Hey, kiddo."
Fang glanced up at the sudden voice, and she actually smiled at the visitor, quickly standing up to give him a tight hug. "Hey, you."
Her uncle was a man of words, unlike her father's current state, but they were both men of the spear and arrow, a warrior trained in the art of battle. "Heard about the day before..." Her uncle patted the back of Fang's head, before he stepped back a bit, glancing at the doorway. "I've gotta give you my apologies for that; I didn't think the silly girl would start nosing around in things she shouldn't mess with."
Fang slowly shook her head. "I'm not the one to apologize to, really... Light just doesn't need prodding." She looked her uncle over, at how his facial features were so close to the image of her father, almost a twin. "How are things at the tower?"
Her uncle shrugged. "Quiet, like always." He looked back at the doorway again. "Is your dad home?"
Fang shook her head. "He's out by the paddocks; there were a few more horses who got loose."
Her uncle let out a weary sigh. "Then I'd better lend him a hand... I'm off shift today, finally got a new recruit for the place."
Fang knew that her uncle's position at the tower of seers was mostly traditional, a martial guardian for those who communed with the spirits and the forces beyond, and if there was ever any disturbance in such a place of silent meditation, he was one of the men to deal with it.
"See you later then, kiddo..." Her uncle smiled, and he turned off towards the path that led out to the fields. "Give my apologies to the lady in question herself, if you can."
Fang tried not to frown. "She hasn't turned up today."
Her uncle paused. "She ran off, your father said..."
"She came back." Fang turned to peer at the distant woods. "But then she flew out there again... She said she wanted to keep looking at the books today, but she hasn't shown up yet."
A long moment of silence passed between them, before her uncle looked out at the forest. "Might be a good idea to check up on her, then... Just to make sure she's alright."
Fang watched her uncle as he walked off towards the farmlands, and she herself looked back at the woods, wondering where exactly Lightning could be. She reached for the doorknob of her house, and it was only a matter of time before she had her satchel and spear, along with a full canteen of water just in case Lightning had gotten thirsty, along with a fresh roll of bandaging material.
Fang started off just as quickly as she could, shadowed by Bahamut up above. But it almost felt like the minutes dragged on into hours by the time she finally approached that wide stretch of thistles and brush, bridging the gap up towards the trees.
Bahamut swerved to the side at a signal from below, and before long, he flapped back down to land atop Fang's wrist, listening for whatever she had to tell him.
Fang knew that certain species of eagles were far more intelligent than others, and that Bahamut was quite smart enough to understand simple phrases, including what not to search for. "Friend." Fang pointed at the towering woods. "Search."
Bahamut waited for Fang to lift her arm and send him off, before he swiftly disappeared into the darkness of the tall forest boughs, deep within the shade of the woods.
While the dream carried on in Fang's own eyes, with the way she traveled over the fallen trees and sharp branches, further and further into the verdant greens and mossy browns of ancient bark, her own perspective slowly started to split. There was the sudden sound of a slow heartbeat, of ragged breath, and then the sudden realization that a being who had never grown tolerant to bacteria in the air, nor resistant to basic diseases, that they would be left utterly vulnerable to such things.
Fang's visage in the dream tried not to let panic take hold, but her dreaming mind, far away in another world, she felt that fear of loss, of a friend stolen by something she could scarcely fight, something she couldn't just fend away.
It was from beside a cave that Bahamut signaled a hunting cry, but it was not a search for any prey, merely for the falcon who lay sprawled there upon a low pile of moss and leaves, breathing out a steady foam of saliva and blood.
