Primogenitor
Chapter Five
Quiet, undisturbing sizzling-noise woke him gently up.
The feeling of fluffy fabric was all around his body; keeping his temperature stable.
Midgardsormr could smell fresh- no, icy air, when he heard somebody opening a door.
Blinking lazily, he saw a Lalafell walking into this foreign room that must be located in Coerthas, since he recalled how displeasing the touch with these breezes were. The Dunesfolk gazed friendly into the chamber, but her eyes were filled with sadness.
As if she was trying to rather distract herself than the one who she spoke to, the woman twaddled: "I wonder if Yugiri will search for her mask. After all, she's meanwhile used to it. But it would be totally sad if she would continue to hide her face. Don't you agree, Alphinaud?"
Still exhausted, the dragon turned his head minimal around until his eyes found the Elezen.
The boy sat on a chair, too, but wasn't wrapped into a blanket. Nodding subtly, he responded: "That's right, Tataru. But I find it in the first instance very strange, that she thought it was necessary to hide the fact that she's just like Cecilia an Au Ra." "Hm... Perhaps because Ceci looks more like... the rest us? Uhm, I-I don't mean her hair! Or her eyes! Or her scales, of course! I mean her skin! Yugiri is compared to Ceci so... pale and all! I bet she didn't feel well to see such a rosy skin next to her very own, ashen exemplar. She didn't want to look like a corpse, I guess."
The dragon yawned disinterested and turned towards the chimney next to his chair.
Mortals and their problems... As if somebody was responsible for his or her very own genes...
"Oh, just look, Alphinaud! Ceci's tiny companion is finally awake!" Tataru said cheerful. His ears twitched in the second he heard this. 'Who do YOU call tiny?' the dragon thought cantankerous; eyes burning for a moment in red light. Of all things, a Lalafell dared to say that about him... Unbelievable. For his true shape, she wouldn't even be a snack... Only a single bite.
"This puppet is full of surprises, isn't he?" ,Alphinaud became suddenly more talkative, "Imagine: First of all he helped me to escape the prison – with a salvo of fire! Then, he stayed the whole time by my side without a break. He left my head not until we found Cecilia plus the other Warriors AND sat with them safely in the carriage. I have never heard of minions being so loyal to someone who isn't their rightful master. So, he must be a very intelligent creation. Intelligent and lifelike. That's why I wasn't surprised, when he suddenly fell asleep when we reached the Enterprise."
Tataru neared the chair on which he lay; a kindly smile for Midgardsormr on her lips.
Dropping his ears as a silent warning, the dragon eyeballed her full of distrust. She ignored it – naturally! – and tried to pat his head. It was a frustrating déjàvu, but he still had to remind himself, that this Dunesfolk was not Erik. Therefore, he only hissed unaffable at her with exposed fangs.
"Oh... I fear he doesn't like me..." she said and withdrew from him a little.
Alphinaud chuckled slightly and stated: "Well, I think he doesn't like me, neither."
"Correction, friends: He doesn't like anybody of us." a familiar voice said in the same moment as the wooden door opened for another time. Midgardsormrs goony companion entered the room – still dressed in her scandalous magician-outfit; still with the Blackmage-scepter on her back.
He stared at her with a piercing expression while she walked to him; indignant because of her words which proved for another time, that she believed only into his bitterness considering mortals. Thus, he didn't even think of affirming the opposite. When she came to a standstill right in front of him, the Methuselah in the shape of a baby-dragon snapped her uncoated hand when she reached out.
"See? He bites if somebody comes on a personal level too close to him. In other words, he prefers to have the dominance while we interact with him. Having him on our shoulders or heads is fine, since we are then his vehicles. But never try to fondle him. He may tolerate caressing barely when I'm the one who tries it, yet that's already the limit." the Raen explained offhandedly.
Tataru nodded: "Yeah, this makes sense... After all, you're his master."
Before Midgardsormr could protest via a salvo of fire, Erik and the other four Warriors entered chewing the chamber; holding a few sandwiches, a teapot and several cups in their hands. "Haurchefant was so friendly to loan the kitchen to us. I'll make later dinner, too." the leader said and handed respectively one sandwich plus cup out to Cecilia, Alphinaud and Tataru.
While the other mortals took seats around the wide desk, the Au Ra grabbed a seat-cushion and planted herself next to Midgardsormrs chair. Although her friends were busy with each other, unfortunately the dragon couldn't avoid wondering about her reason to come to him. He might have not bitten as harsh as he could have conducted, yet it had been intense enough to leave marks.
But thinking about marks... Her weals were gone. This was a relief.
"You want to eat something? Or at least drink a little bit?" the maiden asked him and leaned herself against the seating of his chair; studying his face attentive with a neutral mien. Meditative, he gazed at the food in her hand and the tea in her cup for a few seconds. Then, when his eyes found hers, hesitantly the dragon nodded with a helpless expression. She answered instantly with a smile – beautiful, like he described only this one mortal simper.
~C~
While Cecilia shared her food with him, he didn't leave the fluffy blanket completely. And he dove at once back into the fabric, after they had eaten everything up. She smiled softly at him; the Crystal and the Jewel sparkling in contentedness. He couldn't completely force himself to successfully push that direful addiction to her away. Hence, his face was heated by shame. And longing.
'A long time passed by, since I yearned for the friendship of a mortal...' he thought doleful.
Despite the fact, that it revealed his mental weakness, he sighed in complacency when the maiden corrected for him the blanket around his base of the neck. She had been the one who placed him into this comfortable 'bed'; he was sure of it. "Thou art unnecessarily kind..." he mumbled calmly and let her maugre his indirect protest adjust the fabric around his legs.
Oh Hydaelyn, he enjoyed this here too much... It altered his intentions too much...
The warmth coming from the chimney; the softness of this cloth; the maiden's care...
Midgardsormr had no interest left for the other mortals in this room, yet for her all the more.
Impulsive – when she wanted to drew her hand back from the blanket – he pressed his head frivolous between her fingers. Of course he realized his mistake at once, but still he sought her palm and hid his face there. Eyes shut, he inhaled her scent; snuggled to her silky skin.
The dragon could feel her perplexed gazes all over his body – it was, as if his very own conscience was staring disbelieving at him. And indeed... If the maiden as a mortal recognized the falseness in this odd situation, then it was just logical that his awareness as an ancient dragon did the same.
But he couldn't retire. Not now. Even with the sheer shame amongst his mind.
This gesture was an error, he knew. And he would regret it- He already regretted it.
But Midgardsormr wanted to feel her. To assure her, somehow and without words, that he was glad about her presence or rather bare existence. If the Mothercrystal had made a mistake to chose her for waking him up- He did not know that. And he didn't care for this. The maiden herself was reason enough to stay with her and watch every step she made. He couldn't formulate this sentiment because he wasn't all too sensitive thanks to his age. But... She should believe into him...
She became precious to him... With every day more.
By this realization, he breathed heavily out – trembling inwardly.
When he raised his ridiculous small head, his nose ground along her skin.
For a moment, he couldn't restrain himself, so he opened his muzzle and tasted her.
Cecilias eyes were widened as his lids parted; allowing his irises to look at these open windows. She showed only one other reaction – and this was blushing in delicate pink color. Satisfied by this, he licked once more with lowered eyelids over her palm. Her taste was surprisingly sweet... Sugar, but not flower. Not peach-blossoms. Rather sweet like fruits. Delicious like them... She was lovely.
'What am I thinking...?!' he noticed with fear of himself.
His own eyes widened, Midgardsormr retired slowly while staring into space. The dragon's thoughts were constantly flashing over, because his impulses had brought him in severe difficulties. For her, this occurrence was belike just a simple badinage – after all, Cecilia snorted now resigned. But...
For him, this was truly no bagatelle. He had given her a sign of clear sympathy. The fondness, which he had granted once his own children when they were young. Surely another dragon would mistake that situation for a test-purpose of the Raens sapidity... After all, she tasted indeed good... However, no older dragon would lick a mortal's skin without the intend of guzzling her.
And Midgardsormr counted himself to aforesaid generation.
Plus... If another dragon would have read his mind, then the gesture would no longer only look like a fatherly action. He had enjoyed her taste... in an addicted manner. A measure, which was rather... common for taking an interest in 'physical amusement'.
"You're really an old meanie..." the girl grumbled meanwhile and folded her arms.
The dragon sighed and wondered, if she had originally planed to utter the flowery word 'scumbag'. At least, that was how he felt at the moment. He hadn't bantered her – made no bad joke. Albeit... his behavior must give her that impression, since he had bitten her before. And this was worth for insulting him a thousand times. She was right to feel like a toy.
"I apologize..." ,he murmured with downcast gaze, "Thou hast not deserved this brazen hoax." Cecilia slackened her arms and said: "Well, as long as you don't think of me as your personal snack, I'm not angry with you. But you like it to cause awkward situations for me, don't you?" Jerkily, Midgardsormr lifted his head and eyeballed incredulous her serious face. In his opinion, it was just the other way round – she pushed him frequently into malaise. Although... he must admit to himself, that she had endured already often enough his elderly alias geriatric harshness.
Turning his gaze away from her; to the chimney, he chuckled inept.
"Thou hast my sympathy." his voice carried the words weakly.
~C~
Hail fell down from the clouded sky.
Normally, Midgardsormr wouldn't have cared much for this, but his new shape was yet filigree.
While the Chocobos trotted along a protective cliff in order to avoid contact with the ice-gobbets, the dragon demonized once more the disadvantage which this baby-body offered. It was a miracle, how the mortal resistibility against the weather outmatched his own; at least for now. He doubted, that the Warriors and their birds would already keep up with ordinary, grown-up dragons.
Edgar gave a tender 'Kweeh.', when Cecilia pulled the hood of his harness properly over his head. Dressing a Chocobo like a Whitemage had been pointless in Midgardsormrs eyes; beforehand – now, he realized, that the girl hadn't done it only for flighty glamour. Actually, her white bird seemed to endure the atmosphere much better than his fellows. Even Erik's smoke-black Chocobo froze despite the heavy armor it wore.
"And you think the Ixal will not recognize us, yeah?" an adventurer asked, who had joined the troop for reconquering several stolen properties. The Warrior's leader nodded: "The volley hurts them – just like us. Nobody stands per will under an icy shower." "I still don't get it why we have to do this. Doesn't Camp Dragonhead employ a few own errand-boys? Why can't they fetch the stolen stuff?" another unknown face complained. "Well, nobody said 'we'. If you're not interested into the reward, then go home. The Warriors of Light; we owe asylum to Coerthas. Not you guys. You can still wander around and care not a fig for the politic of Ul'dah. Must not have in mind what your host plus friend risks because of your safety." Erik stated bluntly.
Uncomfortable silence surrounded the mortals until the Bard-Miqo'te – as apparently usual for her – lightened the general mood with a few jokes. Midgardsormr should really try to memorize her name instead of labeling her always by her job, but she was and would always be just a mortal creature in his draconic opinion. Particularly, he recalled 'Erik' only because he found that man annoying. Otherwise was no need to remember any of these adventurers by name. They were exchangeable. Replacing one Bard with another wouldn't make any difference. If they used the same gear, everybody who counted to their funny organization was a mere gear-wheel.
As if she had heard his thoughts, Cecilia harrumphed loudly.
Her allies gazed therefore irritated at her, but she excused herself quickly by mentioning a cough she had developed this morning. Not, that the dragon believed this alibi, because he knew that aforesaid sore-throat wasn't as bad as she demonstrated now. Ergo: She lied to her companions.
The archmage let Edgar decelerate his speed, so that they brought up the rear of the group. Snorting, Midgardsormr eyeballed her face unimpressed in the moment she looked at him. She was angry, obviously, but he hadn't done anything wrong, which was why he sat unperturbed on her shoulder; waiting for her to tell him whatever whirred through her mind.
"Why do you constantly behold Tammy with that dismissive gaze? She has only cheered the others with her kindliness up! … And don't tell me, you're allergic to sensitivity." the maiden said sharply in a manner similar to Erik's behavior. The dragon would not care much for this – because he could blindly trust into her dulcet nature – if there just wouldn't be the expression of her left eye...
The Crystal was stinging with the pressure of thousand needles while she looked at him.
Ah, he had forgotten how protective she was...
The Raen was grim whenever someone harmed those who were close to her.
For a moment, he had been shorttaken by the unusual severity. But there was no reason to fear her – she was no dragon who would rupture his body. Thus, he cocked his head slightly and replied: "Pardon, but thy friend acts fatuitous when she cares for the view of these strangers. Thy leader was not mistaken to rebuke them for disencouraging the troop. So, it is a useless effort to be kind."
"And you think that teamwork functions this way, yes?" ,she snapped, "Listen, we adventurers are absolutely NO dictatorship in which a single person is in charge for everything. We don't follow such hierarchies like the states and Grand Companies do. Everybody is important and everybody has his or her very own thoughts! You dragons seem to have a hierarchic system – I don't know if you even understand anything I say now. But discipline and kindness work hand in hand for us – there's no simple black-and-white-morale like you want to force on me. It's no mathematics where only 'right' and 'wrong' exists. This insular concept of life... That's your thing; not ours!"
The dragon lifted his brows.
He? And thinking in such a narrow-minded manner?
How negative was the view the Au Ra had considering him; truly...?
Speechless, Midgardsormr studied her wroth face. Whenever this maiden showed him new depths of her personality, he sometimes questioned if it was still the same girl who talked to him. Sometimes... Cecilia appeared to him like somebody else. Somebody, who was much older and clearly less naive than she was – in a mental AND emotional kind. She partly resembled dragons in these moments; the oldest exemplars. In a way so truthful that he couldn't deny it.
Remarkable about this behavior was, however, that she recognized in these situations specific facts which mortals should rarely do. He would dare to say, that she could sneak into his mind, although Midgardsormr had never heard of mortals who were capable of telepathy. Yet it was irrefutable, which precise comprehension Cecilia demonstrated in his near. She must have a sixth sense for him – if not for all dragons – whenever she just 'guessed' something.
"Yes, my world-view is indeed outmoded." ,he shrived with closed lids in order to avoid the Crystal and it's stinging gaze, "And perhaps I am too sober... Down-to-earth in an extremum, if thou insist on calling it this way. But I am not forcing it on thee. At least thee as a single person. Other mortals – I will not even try to comprehend their motives. But thou art spared as thou hast Hydaelyns guard as well as attention even while Her gift is sealed within thee. Hence, thou enjoy my consideration. This and my honest attempt to understand thee better than an ordinary attender."
Parting his eyelids minimal, he looked directly up to her mien with piercing irises. The expectation to meet Cecilias unfriendly gaze once more was choking him to an extant where he became irately, for which reason he prepared himself for the worst.
How surprised Midgardsormr was, when he discovered the opposite.
The maiden was sulking; brows knitted and cheeks discolored in pink staining.
She stared at his face without blinking plus ground her teeth simultaneous. For a moment, it seemed as if she would even bite into her lower lip. He should find this childish, but it reminded him of himself as well as his own offspring when they weren't grown-up. Although she wasn't talking – exceptionally – the dragon was satisfied with the effect his words had now on her.
Nevertheless, there was something he had to prevent this time from occurring: "I am not making any kind of fun in this instant. I do want to understand thee. That's an honest wish of mine."
Reluctantly, she nodded and looked away from him. There was still this delicate blushing on her face which drew him emotionally closer to her. Sighing resigned, Midgardsormr placed his 'hand' under her seadragon-like ear while he fought against the impulse to lean himself against her neck. Unfortunately, the cold air strengthened his need of her rather heated presence...
"Do you freeze?" the maiden asked lowly. Before he could answer, she lifted him from her shoulder and placed him on her lap. Confusion spread over his mien; also panic as he didn't feel comfortable whenever she grabbed his body. But... It was pleasantly warm here.
Despite the disgust for mortal touches, Midgardsormr decided to stay until the Warriors would reach their destination. After all, there was nothing wrong with taking advantage of her nice temperature... This contact to Cecilia was nothing personal; just like that ride back then in the Black Shroud.
He was in control of the situation – there would be no undesired approaching of her.
Nodding slightly, the dragon was sure to have convinced himself.
~C~
With a loud splash, the maiden caught the sixth fish within a short while.
"Amazing, Ceci! I wish I had such a talent!" her Miqo'te-friend cheered joyful.
The Raen giggled and replied: "Perhaps I have just more luck than you because I'm patient. Or it's again a measure of gear. You started fishing weeks after me, right? So, I bet it's no joke of the chef when he tells newcomers to always update their stuff whenever they develop better skills."
While the two women were chatting about the fishing-guild, Midgardsormr sat on a rock and stared into the water; filled with relaxation. Remarkable, how lively the fishes in this pond were. It was already an half hour ago, that the volley had stopped and revealed so a clear afternoon-sky – nevertheless the animals seemed yet to rejoice. Just as he did, in fact.
The adventurers had quickly gathered all stolen objects without greater resistance, but the weather hadn't changed before they were back in Camp Dragonhead. Because of this awful experience – including several hits of the falling ice-pieces along his whole body – the Methuselah enjoyed every single moment under the warm sunbeams. Also, he found the plan of Cecilia and this Miqo'te... Tammy more than acceptable, to catch several fishes for today's dinner.
Despite the circumstances which had caused the stay in Coerthas, Midgardsormr was indeed curious how skilled the Warrior's leader might truly be as a cook. Erik wasn't praising his snacks and meals for one-handed consumption, although the other adventurers were every time excited about them. Although even an ancient being could enjoy these things. Because of this, the dragon wanted to see which 'wonders' the Hyur could let happen when he possessed the right ingredients.
But admittedly... Midgardsormr was skeptical about boiled or fried fish.
Partly, he even hoped for Cecilia to allocate one or two small, raw animals to him.
Not, that he thought negative about cooked meals... No, this wasn't the case when it came to him. Despite the nescience of the younger dragons, how good the food of men could taste, he had been one of those 'pangolins' who had once enjoyed the mortal hospitality. Yet, that was it... Once. Eternities had passed for the mortals since these happy days. Humanity had changed a lot...
The chant of several birds distracted him, wherefore he lifted his head and looked up to the place where the tiny creatures sat. As if they were mocking the cold air plus celebrating the sunshine, sparrows gave their very best to make as much noise as possible. They even danced jumpily around in the moist snow. Ridiculousness was a fitting word to describe their actions, albeit they were – presumably – far away from being able to understand the word's meaning...
Another loud splash filled the air.
Paying once more attention to the two mortals, the dragon reminded himself, that they were in fact just like the silly sparrows. Left alone with a short lifespan to handle, all they could do was rushing in order to make use of the little time they had – which would usually end in the waste of hours. Eating, drinking, sleeping, working... All these things had no meaning if one died as fast as them. Above all, humane generations were necessary for finishing dreams that a single dragon could fulfill in one phase of his long life, easily. Mortals were a natural misconstruction.
Yet... He had always been fascinated by them. It felt wrong to compare men with birds.
No matter, how foolish they acted nowadays and how much their ideals irritated him at times...
And after all, he was not perfect, neither. Jealousy zapped his brain a little as Alphinaud appeared, because the boy earned like always this sweet pitch of Cecilia that she had reserved for him alone. Luckily the teenager didn't stay with the two women as he was busy with getting a few ingredients for the dinner. Or rather 'fortunately', to be more precise... Midgardsormr was already a bit fed up with watching the friendliness between both white-haired mortals.
Flying to the maiden, the dragon eyeballed hissing every step the Elezen made, until the child was finally out of sight. Only then he landed on her shoulder – realizing frustrated that she didn't notice or didn't care for his disapproval considering her interactions with Alphinaud. But that sentiment was on the other hand acceptable; compared to a new disturbance. Steps through the snow revealed, that there was somebody else who intended to visit the two fishers.
Cecilias annoying white Chocobo went unhasty to them. Staring like always unaffable at him, Edgar barely tolerated Midgardsormr on the girl. Not, that this was a surprise... He had only acted like a well-behaved pet before thanks to the distracting volley. But now, the bird waited palpably for another chance... For trying anew some of these pecking-assaults.
And he was determined to attack nobody else, above all.
In fact, the chocolate-brown eyes had never shown any sign of disapproval whenever Alphinaud or other mortals came close to the maiden. The only disgust they revealed were focused on the dragon – a trait, which became slowly a true nuisance.
Tss, if the bird could at least refuse Erik... Having this sentiment in common would make it easier; whether Edgar would still distrust Midgardsormr or not. But as fate could be a cruel thing, the very frustrating opposite was a fact: The animal with snow-white plumage adored the Warrior's leader. Realizing this before in the territory of the Ixal had become the most annoying information about Cecilias Chocobo. Because... When the bird was even fond of such a mannerless plus gruff man, there existed no possibility Edgar could ever accept this dragon here.
Growling muted as the white creature came threatening close to his place on the maidens shoulder, Midgardsormr wondered, why this large 'pet' couldn't be tricked via the cute, innocent disguise which looked like a baby-dragon. He couldn't be aware, that the spirit in this corpus belonged to something as big and powerful, that only the physical death could bind it. Edgar couldn't know this. So, why must of all things HE have a larger brain than all the other Chocobos?
Just as if he wanted to strengthen Midgardsormrs negative impression, Edgar pecked his head followed by a quick blow against the vulnerable ribcage. The dragon jerked in agony, but was ready to pay the pain instantly back. His red eyes were already shining in stinging light – he would rebuke the daredevil bird with an impressive flame hot enough to burn all feathers in its near down.
But he hadn't expected, that someone else would lose patience.
Fast as lightning, Cecilia stopped fishing, turned around and slammed the rod on Edgar's left wing. The wooden stick was similar to a whip in this moment; making the same sound in the air, even. Rather shocked than hurt, the Chocobo jumped and stepped backwards. Yet, he seemed not to be wrathful in any way. It was anxiety which spread instead over his face.
All three of them – the dragon, the bird and the Miqo'te – stared at an angry Au Ra.
"What have I told you about pecking him?!" the maiden snapped harshly and placed simultaneous her fists on the hips; emphasizing her yet suppressed rage. Edgar lowered his head in shame while something like an apology in Chocobo-tongue seemed to leave his beak. Cecilia eyeballed him with clear disbelieve in the eyes; the Jewel burned like fire and the Crystal was ice-cold.
Words over words with a serious pitch fell now down on the bird.
As Midgardsormr was distracted by them, he quivered in negative surprise when Cecilias free hand made casually contact with his injured ribcage. 'Quasi' casual, of course... She was obviously busy with telling Edgar off, but her fingers went volitional slowly over the damaged flesh.
If she wouldn't hold the rod in the other hand, still, she would probably aim to grab him again... This imagination of her typical odd behavior was almost more unpleasant than the current touch... Yes, it was absurd, but a fortiori she was the cause for physical contact, a fortiori he felt jeopardized in every possible regard. Therefore, it was a good thing that she had to hold this fishing-rod.
Eyes widened in restrained panic, he endured her fingers.
But he was not sure about the possible outcome of this occurrence.
Hmpf, now joined even Tammy the speech in order to make Edgar realize, that his doing was not acceptable or correct... The Miqo'te had seemingly not known, that the Chocobo had a problem with Cecilias new 'puppet', wherefore she wanted to support a quick, peaceful solution for this trouble... What a bad joke, that the women wanted to force some sense into Edgar's head, when a few battles offered most likely the needed permanent decision.
The hand on his ribcage still didn't go away.
All the words spoken by the women reached his ears suddenly only like an echo. His vision became blurry a fortiori the contact with his body lasted. He wanted to scream, that Cecilia should stop it, but he couldn't as long as the Bard was around. Using telepathy instead would be an option, if this wouldn't mean at the moment to burn the maidens mind with his mental pressure.
Indeed, his physical death had left his soul with awful weaknesses...
And this small body made it worse.
He wanted to bite her, when she grabbed his corpus with that single hand; holding him like a kitten. Midgardsormr was close to ruin her face with a fire-salvo, but just in this moment she switched from fisher to whitemage. She placed him like a baby into her arms while starting to heal his injury. Taken aback by this experience, his senses regained their usual functionality.
With a clear vision, he saw, that she gave him a look full of frustration.
A silent insult lay in her eyes; telling him how crestfallen she was about his missing confidence into her intentions. Cecilia wasn't trusting his reasons for staying with her, but she expected him to have no doubts about the relationship they had formed. He felt this with every fiber.
She let go of him before he could consider the fact, how similar the two of them were.
As if nothing had happened, she and Tammy continued their smalltalk plus returned to their fishing. Letting both him and Edgar stand next to them as if the confused guys were thin air. The Chocobo gave several irritated 'Kweh?', before he sat down without any complaints. Midgardsormr didn't feel like testing his luck, yet he took also a seat. There, he recognized with wonderment, that Edgar didn't try another attack despite the close range. Actually, the bird braced himself, as it seemed.
While they watched silently the two fishers, the dragon felt a little over-strained.
Had the harsh confrontation this time been enough to tame Edgar's instincts?
If so... Why? What was it, what the Chocobo could see, but he not...?
There must be something about Cecilia... Something... different.
~C~
Wrinkling his nose, Midgardsormr watched the unusual view.
Erik had conquered the whole kitchen for himself; entirely indulged in cooking.
As the dragon was used from the brunette man to wear the ugly outfit of a marauder alias warrior, seeing him now in a proper culinarian-attire felt already wrong. But even more unrealistic was it, which precision the Hyur possessed while using his utensils. Apart from the harsh steel-blue eyes, nothing reminded of the impolite person who was more on the rough side of humanity.
This here looked like a civilized, skilled cooked. A handsome exemplar.
"Isn't he fantastique?" the maiden finished her question voluntary with a french term. Sighing, Midgardsormr cocked his head plus folded his short arms. He shifted his weight on her shoulder, before he gave Cecilia an answer: "Erik must be a devil. Another explanation would not suffice... However: Thou hast not informed me, which skill truthfully slumbers within him. I expected him rather to be a lucky cook instead of a serious gourmet. Watching this occurring explains definitely, why he does not praise the simple meals he creates." "And therefore I'm sure, that you will enjoy every single dish in this evening. When you liked his snacks, his masterpieces will bewitch you."
The Methuselah nodded and payed again attention to the cook.
While the other Warriors had been kicked out of the kitchen by Erik, the Midlander seemed to enjoy Cecilias presence. Now and then his eyes searched for her; testing, if she followed his actions. Because she gazed attentively at his hands, she might not see this, but her unrestrained curiosity pleased the usually bearish man. In fact, he smiled at the most only for the maiden.
Midgardsormr wondered honestly, why they were as close as siblings.
Nothing about the two mortals suggested a strong bond; in consideration of logic. Erik was not open and especially not charming. His thoughts were a secret until he let them become audible in a blunt, impolite manner. And apart from his duties as a leader, he never acted extroverted. To see that man as some kind of big brother did still not explain, why Cecilia was fond of him.
For the dragon, it was easier to tell, why the other way round worked.
After all, he wanted to stay in the maiden's near, too.
The aromatic smell of fresh fish and condiments in a frying-pan filled the air.
Despite his strict intention to not judge about the cooking-process, Midgardsormr let the neat odor wander through his nostrils with an undeniable amount of pleasure. Yes, the faint taste on his tongue was more than tempting... He would surely eat later several bites. The smell alone was good enough to ignore his original skepticism. Raw fishes existed plenty enough for some other time.
Actually, everything here had a nice aroma. The fish, the flesh, the vegetables, the Coerthan fruits and the different spices... One could envy mortals for their creativity when it came to food. Even if their lives were meaningless to the almost eternal dragons, it was remarkable what men could do with the gift of existing. He recognized this over and over in the last while.
It was a little bitter, that of all things Erik reminded him of this.
On the other hand... Who would have guessed, that this Midlander with the dark brown hair and steel-blue eyes was behind the usual attitude of a marauder a genius of the kitchen?
Curious, the dragon left Cecilias shoulder and flew in circles over Eriks head. The Hyur gave him for six seconds an irritated look, before he ignored the 'puppet' in the air for the sake of his cooking. This allowed Midgardsormr to watch each motion of the chef at close range – surprisingly, doing so amused him in a childish way. The dragon couldn't recall to have ever seen a master's routine, wherefore the whole process was fascinating or rather entertaining. He enjoyed it truly.
Never had humane passions delighted him more than now.
Caught in his curiosity, he didn't recognize the moment when Cecilia left the kitchen.
Just when Erik prepared the last part for dinner, Midgardsormr broke free from his half-trance and noticed the maidens absence. Despite his wish to watch the Hyur's doing until everything was ready, the dragon didn't feel well with not knowing, why the Archmage had decided to disappear. Hence, vanishing instead of staying here for gazing at a mortal's cuisine was beyond question.
A last glimpse at the delicious dishes – then the dragon was gone, too.
~C~
He flew hasty through the large building.
The atmosphere coming from the stony walls felt awfully cold compared to the heated kitchen. Since he sat this day usually on Cecilias shoulder, he hadn't perceived the cool air with the same strong intensity like he did now. Growling because of the uncomfortable sensation on his skin, Midgardsormr stopped for a moment as his whole corpus shivered uncontrollably.
The bad hoax never ended... He was already tired of this disguise, but there was no other option left for accompanying the Au Ra, still... Although his strength wasn't gone, it rested within his true, unfortunately lifeless shape. There was only a tiny part he could extract from his dead body in order to travel through Eorzea. And this energy was yet not completely accessible...
Apart from this nuisance, it was plain, that a full-grown dragon would be more than a problem here. All people in Coearthas who weren't heretics feared dragons deeply and (respectively or) wanted with all their desperate might to see them dead. They would attack all kinds of dragons – no matter, if it was a standard full-grown exemplar or a creature as huge as his original body was.
While he came across several knights, Midgardsormr felt their skeptical gazes all over his corpus. Fortunately they regarded him as a detailed toy that belonged to one of their heroes... Otherwise, they would probably take him from his 'owner' away – whoever it could have been, if Hydaelyn hadn't chosen a person who was classified as a sympathizer – and vivisect him...
The dragon shook his head with closed eyes.
Once more he thought too negative about mortals. Indeed, they could anatomize him, but the men in this settlement were only akin to the people of Ishgard. Here, corruption was only weak; no matter how intense the real vitiation within the city-state's walls might be. Judging was out of place.
A faint sound attracted his attention; bringing him back to the here and now.
Still clueless about Cecilias whereabouts, he followed it into the direction of an half-opened room. While he moved cautious through the air, the dragon also realized, what this muted sound meant. He remembered now... It was the tune of a needle diving through a rougher fabric. Sewing.
Midgardsormr had lost the connection to mankind thanks to their betrayal to such a grave extent, that his memorization partly rejected every unnecessary work. This realization made him wonder, how his children felt about this topic... Did they unconsciously push all positive experiences away, even if this would leave them empty inside – as much as they denied the good moments with men? And if they truly did this... Would they consider a change?
Would they consider a second chance for mortals?
His notions irritated him rootedly. But how should he focus on them, when he saw now something so unexpected – yet so delectable, that he lost every train of thought...?
There was the maiden he had been looking for. Holding a pincushion and a needle. A pullover made of poorest fabric pinned between the wooden tool, while she sewed with high-qualitative yarn, although other weavers would find this action preposterous. The clothes' young owner sat on a stool next to the maiden – a girl; almost a teenager. She watched the skilled crafter suited in a red, aristocratic-looking dress, as if a queen would condescend to repair her cheap pullover.
Purest gratitude was entirely written in the girls eyes.
"My Mama had made it for me, you know...?" ,the Elezen-child spoke shyly and pushed a thick, brunette lock out of her face, "But she died one year ago... It's the last gift she ever gave me... So... Nobody could repair it – my Papa is awfully bad in sewing..."
The girl fell silent, but Cecilia only chuckled gently about it and responded calmly like a mother: "Well, now you got somebody who can fix the holes for you. And I can teach you a few techniques, which would allow you to repair clothes by yourself. In case, of course, that you like this idea." Clapping, the child replied enthusiastic: "Yes! That would be wonderful! Oh.. Uhm... Excuse me, my lady, that was not a very polite response." The weaver giggled and shook her head. "Please, there's no need to act so stiff around me. I'm just a simple adventurer."
Nodding, the Elezen-girl watched tacit the repair for a few seconds, before she asked: "You made this beautiful dress by yourself?" "Sure I did. And my nightgown was also sewn by me. Sewing is after all my favorite activity as a crafter. Nothing makes me more fun than this."
"I wish..." ,the girl murmured, "...Mama could have met you. I bet you would have become friends. She loved sewing, too. And she always dreamed of visiting Ul'dah one day in order to learn from the masters who live there... If just... If just that dragon wouldn't have killed her..."
Cecilia looked up from the pincushion and gave the child an aghast gaze full of sorrow.
Midgardsormr, on the other hand, looked down to the ground in shame. Usually, he didn't care for all the losses which mortals had to endure... It was their own fault. Their punishment. But this...? This here was a young girl. A child. She needed a mother in her life, yet.
By what right could his kind take a child's mother away?
"Your mom was surely a talented weaver. This cheap fabric doesn't fall apart despite all the holes." Admiration flowed through the maidens words, as she tried to distract the girl. The later giggled with an embarrassed expression and smiled brightly; forgotten was the entire suffering at once. What remained was the joy about the rescue of her dearest piece of cloth.
Grinding his fangs in wrath, Midgardsormr looked at Cecilia. Only because of her, he waltzed through these halls like a toy – enduring the fact over and over, that men forgot things so easily. Wouldn't dragons attack them constantly, they would forget the tragic memories completely and leave his kind entirely alone with the never-ending pain.
So, how could the Raen dare to make the agony of this Coerthan child disappear...?
~C~
He watched the repair with disdain; sitting down on the cold floor.
Motionless, he waited without ever blinking for the sake of his vulnerable eyes. This body here shouldn't stare that much, since the irises were yet not fully developed, but he didn't care for this. He was too angry. Too indignant. Men never stopped outraging him inwardly.
As she had suggested before, the weaver showed the Elezen-child several sewing-techniques after the reconstruction of the pullover was done. The girl demonstrated eagerness at first – which led to some errors; resulting in many small knots of the yarn. But then, it was even to an ancient dragon like him visible: She had inherited her mother's talent.
Patiently, Midgardsormr beheld the two mortals until they were finished.
It was not until the child wanted to leave the room, that he started moving again. Her eyes found naturally right away the 'strange toy' which stood in the door-frame. And as 'it' resembled dragons, the girl froze because of her fear. The 'puppet', on the other hand, wasn't hovering or walking, wherefore the child's anxiety was an unnecessary reaction.
"Just leave the room. There's no need to be afraid as long as you don't try to caress him."
Although he found these words offending, Cecilia encouraged through them the girl to keep going. With a confused look in the blue eyes, the small Elezen passed Midgardsormr – keeping just in case an obvious distance to him. Also, she held her dearest piece of cloth tightly against her chest, as if she feared he would burn the pullover in every second. Or would even savage herself.
Hmpf, he was angry, but no idiot who attacked helpless children.
She was insulting the dignity of a higher creature without even knowing it.
Cecilia, however, recognized the humiliation very well. He sensed this in her look, when he finally arose from the floor and flew unhasty to her seat, where she still packed her materials. "Don't sulk. She's a traumatized girl who is deeply afraid of dragons. And you don't look like a friendly giant who doesn't eat kids when he's bored. In fact, you are in this shape even more unsympathetic."
Hissing, he frowned and felt the stinging glow of his red eyes emerging.
"Thou art not lightening my mood in any regard. Perhaps it was wrong to search for thee."
The maiden lifted her brows and looked directly at him. "You were wondering, why I had left you together with Erik alone in the kitchen?" Midgardsormr didn't respond to her brazen question. Instead, he tried to suppress the anger which boiled within his core. He was very mad at her for making him feel guilt and shame considering the actions of his own kind. But... The enragement about himself exceeded this emotion with an unspeakable strength.
He had become too addicted to her...
Closing his eyes, he listened to her helpless chuckle: "Hehe, what a lucky blockhead I must be in your demanding opinion. That you deign to look after me... Especially, when you are wrathful. ... Midgard, tell me the reason for your frightening face. Why are you so sullen?"
He heard her movement, but when his lids swung open, it was already too late to avoid the contact. Cecilias right hand landed on his head; caressing his forehead and ridiculous long ears. He growled, but actually it was not because of his panic considering the moment when mortals touched him. Rather, he wanted to remind himself of the necessary distrust for humankind.
Shifting; shivering under her self-confident fingers, which revealed how less she voluntary cared about the danger to provoke him, Midgardsormr was caught in his wrath and bewilderment, simultaneously. "Thou hast distracted this child from her suffering..." he whispered partly fraught; muscles tensing under his inner pressure. She should stop to touch him as if it was natural...
"I would do this for everybody who suffers because of the war. I just don't have the power to do it. Yet, this doesn't mean I can't try my best. Same goes for ending the war. Nothing would be better than erasing the source for all the pain. So, it's my biggest wish to be one day able to stop the battle. For your very own sake, too." she said forthright.
He widened his eyes: "M-my sake...?"
"Yes. Since it must be cruel to have been unable to do anything since fifteen years. Death means for you not the same thing like for us mortals. For you, it was no end, but an endless chain. Additional, whatever you may remember what I do not know about the past... It seems to hunt you every time while I am only touching you. As if... you fight something that was once dear to you."
This moment... The way she uttered this soft 'you' once again...
Her pity and empathy sent a shiver down his spine. Not a disturbing one, surprisingly. Rather... pleasant like water ran down a dry throat. A burden inside of him seemed to lose its weight a little, when her comprehension for his situation reached him.
His face heated as she caressed his head gently. It wasn't anger which let his skin burn. Only shame. How could a mortal see so much, when he tried his best to ignore the magnetic pull he felt...? Also, if this maiden could understand him without his support for this, why did the other mortals not see, which misconducts and -conceptions ruled in Ishgard...?
'Why must you be a human being...? Why are you no dragon...?' ,he thought in informal manner – sadness filled his head entirely, 'I would be proud to call you a descendant. To call you a daughter. Why is Hydaelyn ill-humored enough to send of all things you as the one who calls out for me? Who wakes me from my slumber and seems to need me...? I can't help you to fulfill your wish... Because of all the lies in Ishgard, I do not know how to assist you...'
Her hand slipped slowly away from his head.
It was reluctant – as reluctant as he let her end the touch.
Something had changed. The physical contact triggered by her will wasn't the same threat anymore, which he was used since one-thousand years. That he had experienced until now in this disguise. Lids lowered in befuddlement, he didn't know, if he should stop Cecilia and place her hand back where it had been just a few seconds ago.
But his intellect and instincts prevailed once more over his sentiments.
Midgardsormr couldn't trust her blindly. Not now. Not so soon.
She had yet not proven, that she deserved his faith.
~C~
Cocking his head slightly in perplexity, the dragon sat down on a bench.
The Warriors of Light were all excited in this moment – clapping and jubilating.
Of course he understood, why Erik's comprehensive dinner enthused the adventurers, but they were not yet eating the dishes; only waiting for him to hand them out. So, the optic alone shouldn't be enough reason for them to flip out. Although he couldn't contradict the delicious smell...
When a plate lay right before Cecilia on the table, the odor of the fish alone made his mouth water. Condiments which he had prior to this never tasted, so that he saw them today for the first time, allured him in a derisive way. Midgardsormr was once more assured of his wish to eat a few bites. He didn't know, if he should be glad or ashamed about this...
The maiden next to him chuckled lowly.
"I will share my dish with you, don't worry." she murmured gently and took her silverware.
While she cut the steaming fish open, he sighed bashful. "Thou hast no idea, how mortifying it is, when an ancient dragon is contingent on a mortal creature. Especially, after my kind has sworn to... No, never mind. We must not ruin the dinner with such a talk..." the Methuselah whispered muted. Cecilia blew air on a small morsel, which she had pierced with her fork, and handed it over to him. When he opened fainthearted his muzzle, she said: "I know, what you mean. Actually, you should not waste your time with us and kill instead every living mortal in these walls. That is, what your... moral-concept – or however you may call this ideal – tells you, doesn't it..."
He ate shyly the flesh she had given him. It tasted wonderfully.
But the insight she had when it came to his thoughts made him melancholy.
At the first sight, this maiden seemed to be naive and young. The oddest creature he had ever seen. Yet, his judgment of her personality had probably been too early. There was indeed more about her. He was just not able to appoint it. Neither to comprehend it, to be honest...
While he chewed well-behaved every bite she gave him, he wondered, why she could enrage him since the very first moment in horrible extents, although he enjoyed her near unmistakably. Nobody – not his own children, descendants and especially not mortals – meant such a contradiction to him. Starting with her appearance, she allured him with the same poignancy like he found her alarming. And her personality was not any different. It unsettled AND attracted him, too.
But this counted only for her... All the other Au Ra, who he had seen meanwhile... No matter, if men or women... They all had not even a similar impact on him. They were just mortals – like the Hyur, Miqo'te and every other little creature in Eorzea. Not even their smell resembled hers.
'Who are you...?' ,he thought abstractedly while he watched her eating, 'Why do you appease me, while I can't help but feel simultaneously disgruntled...? And this magnetic pull... What is that...?'
The gruff voice of the Warrior's leader woke him from his trance: "Has everybody still some space within their stomachs left for eating a dessert? It's nothing special, but I made a chocolate-pudding, since I haven't cooked anything proper in the last time. Let's call it... an acceptable completion."
Alphinaud and Tataru, who had acted contained until now, looked at each other with sparkling eyes and came forward as the first persons who wanted some pudding. Erik grinned, before he handed small bowls with aforesaid dessert on to the last remaining members of the Scions. "I should have anticipated the obvious." ,the Hyur said in a good temper, "You two have after all a sweet tooth." "Well, who could resist the chefs magnificent skills?" Tataru answered smiling.
Furring his brows, Midgardsormr noticed, that the Midlander became unusual communicative whenever the topic of his dishes emerged. Perhaps, that man had truly taken the wrong path when he decided to become an adventurer. He might succeed in this career; especially because of Hydaelyn's gift – the Echo – and do a good job as a leader... Nevertheless, he didn't look happy. Unlike Cecilia, who seemed to be born for this life.
If Erik could change the past, he probably wouldn't pick up the battle-axe.
The archmage got herself also a bowl of pudding. Sniffing, the dragon couldn't recall, that he had ever tried such a sweet in his life. Moreover, he would perhaps not like it, since this slimy thing here was a man-made, unnatural mishmash of... Well, he had not really an idea, what chocolate was. Coming to the realization, that he was uninspired in consideration of the ingredients, the dragon folded his short arms and eyeballed the dessert absent-minded.
The Au Ra fell silent, although she was currently enjoying a conversation with Tammy and Tataru, and gazed at him from the corners of her eyes. "You can try it, if you want." she finally whispered – holding her spoon unhurried right in front of his face. He withdrew a little from the silverware, while his eyes examined the brown, wobbling dish with an askance expression.
Then, he leaned careful forward. Opened his muzzle irresolute, when she met him half way. Midgardsormr let the substance glide onto his tongue; tasting it with skepticism. He was surprised, when the unnatural sweet flavor appealed to him. Lowering his lids, he felt odd, when the maiden pushed meanwhile gently a leftover from his lips away. Her touch and this unperturbed smile nettled once more his preposterous addiction; heating his face drastic.
He felt desperately helpless in this whole situation.
She offered him another bite – he couldn't resist, although his stomach was full.
When the pudding went once more slowly down his throat, her fingers slipped under his chin as if she feared, that she had blotted him unintentional. Now, her smile was shyly, but he found the view as alluring as before. Actually, he had no idea, whereabouts with himself... His consciousness wasn't in the condition for dealing with this... whatever it might be.
But his emotions rejoiced in this instant as if they had never been alive until now.
They got out of control, when Cecilia ran two fingers once more over his lips.
Her attention felt so... GOOD. So redemptive...
~C~
"Listen, my friends! I have wonderful news for you!"
The booming voice of this Fortemps-son, Haurchefant, destroyed the weird moment.
With a wide smile, the Elezen stepped into the room plus looked satisfied at the adventurers as well as Alphinaud and Tataru. "May I ask, what you want to insinuate?" the white-haired boy asked, while the others gazed puzzled at the knight. Being a self-proclaimed politician, the teenager was despite his failure as the Crystal Brave's commandant still seeking to fulfill his role of a leader. Something, which would surely end one day in a life-crisis...
Haurchefant smirked, while he made an elegant bow. "It is my greatest pleasure..." ,he began while returning to his usual posture, "...to inform you, that you all are invited to see our holy city Ishgard with your very own eyes. My father, Count Edmont Fortemps, decided to act as your guarantor, wherefore you all live from now on under the protection of house Fortemps. In other words, you are now his guests and allowed to enter Ishgard whenever you want."
The mortals looked at each other – entirely speechless. Eyes widened in verve.
Midgardsormr, meanwhile, was bewildered by this novelty. Because it sounded surreal...
When the people of Ishgard had decided to close their gates – to keep strangers and outsiders at bay – especially persons from other countries had never again seen the inside of these 'holy' city-walls. Adventurers, first of all, were never welcomed and rather treated like dirt; as much as he had realized because of the information he had heard from Cecilia and everybody else.
The Fortemps-knight continued smiling: "Settle down in our house and let yourself time to think about your next steps. There's no need for rushing to whitewash your reputation. Here in Coerthas, you all have proven to be our trustworthy heroes. Whatever Ul'dah's Syndicate may claim, we know that you are unblamable. And it is an honor for us to welcome you in Ishgard."
"Forsooth, these are truly good news. We accept gladly your hospitality." the boy answered politely, while the others nodded happily. Only Erik demonstrated minimal elation. "Sounds nice, I think... Although I wonder, what your chiefs will say about it." "Don't be skeptical. Your long-lasting visit will be no problem. Sir Aymeric was glad to hear, that you sought shelter in Camp Dragonhead. Also, the Pope himself – Archbishop Thordan VII – indicated interest into your safety. You have supported all four royal houses of Ishgard, when you traveled for the last time through Coerthas – there's no reason to deny you protection." the enthusiastic knight explained.
Erik folded his arms, reflected a few seconds on Haurchefants words, and nodded finally. "Well, then we should pick up our stuff, hm... I hope, you guys didn't make yourselves too comfortable in the meantime. We shouldn't let the Count wait. Don't want him to change his mind..." the Hyur grumbled while his right hand ran aimlessly through his hair.
Cecilia and Tammy, who hadn't given the building a personal touch, decided to wash the dishes, while the other mortals got their belongings. The women's doing was no special activity to look at, wherefore the dragon decided soon to follow Erik through the corridors. Something about him was quite unusual, although identifying this seemed to be impossible... Thus, it was better to make sure, that nothing negative or rather threatening would emerge.
The cook had spread several ingredients in different corners; in order to make sure that they all would be stored correctly. An odd technique, that had been of course developed by a human mind... Despite his obvious irritation about the 'playthings' company, the Hyur didn't mind his 'stalker' while he picked the vegetables, small bottles and spices up. He even payed barely attention to 'it'. However, when Erik had obtained everything that belonged to him, he studied Midgardsormr.
That human mimed imperturbation, but the dragon instantly knew it was faked.
"You're a funny puppet. I would say, your creator was a mastermind." the Warrior's leader said. Stretching his arms, he added muted: "Be a good minion and stay by Ceci's side, will you? I doubt, that I can always be in her near... She's not like our friends. And luckily not like me..."
Midgardsormr stared confused at the strange man. He didn't grasp, what this mortal wanted to say... Why wasn't the maiden like the other adventurers? Or the other Warriors of Light? And what did Erik mean with that reference to himself...?
"She's important, if you ask me. Meant to do something about or rather against that dragon-war." ,the Hyur uttered, "She's a calculation which I couldn't foresee thanks to the last time's happenings when I experienced Ishgards tragedy. She's like a completely new chance. That's why I agreed to her inspection of those airship-leftovers in Mor Dhona. Originally, it should have been me."
The dragon widened his eyes while he focused on the brunette Hyur.
Did he... know it...? Did this mortal know, who the 'puppet' was in truth...?
Eriks steel-blue irises had fixated Midgardsormr in an unpleasant way. They expected something, which the dragon couldn't name. "This time, we must stop the catastrophe in the north. No matter, what might happen to us. Don't leave her side ever again, when we reach Ishgard. She's a gift which must be protected whenever her strength doesn't suffice. Because she is our key to fight the disaster. A key that we didn't have the last time when the catastrophe was close."
Midgardsormr vellicated his ridiculous large ears and glared at the mortal being.
'He knows something, which I am not aware of... Like this frustrating bird. But other than Edgar, Mister Uncommunicative has great interest into nettling me with his knowledge. And yet... I can see why he refuses to reveal his true, given name... Hydaelyn, thou hast sent a man from another world. Although I'm not entitled to question thee, I wonder if this action was the right decision.'
The serious expression of the Hyur extenuated while he observed Midgardsormrs sullen gaze. Grinning keenly, he stated: "You have no idea, what I'm talking about, hm?" Then, Erik chuckled – didn't wait for a possible answer. He shrugged his shoulders, also, before he turned around.
Dumbfounded through the mans behavior, the dragon wanted to spat a fire-salvo at his head. Another mumbling stopped him from doing so, however: "Oh well, it's not like you're the first guy who can't recall anything. You see, that's why I'm so fond of Ceci. She's indeed new here."
Perplexed via this nonsensical information, the dragon blinked a few times.
After this, he followed Erik finally. He flew next to the cooks face – watching him.
Once more, the man grinned a bit and studied Midgardsormr in return. From the corners of his eyes, Erik gave him such a bold look, that burning his face down sounded like a good idea for the dragon. Guzzling the brunette would also probably work, but ruining one's stomach wasn't necessary...
"You can sense it, too, am I right? That my 'little sister' has something about her which nobody else in Eorzea possesses. Not even Minfilia owns this kind of a peculiarity." the Hyur muttered quietly. Constricting his lids in huff, the Methuselah looked away. Erik sighed following and stated: "Yeah, that's how I thought you would react. The topic – or rather Cecilias considerable extraordinariness jangles your antique nerves. … At least you haven't changed your personality."
Frowning, the dragon wondered, why Erik was suddenly so talkative...
And why it was even more bothersome than the odd maiden...
~C~
The Hyur spoke nothing else to the dragon.
Actually, in all likelihood he wanted to keep this monologue a secret.
At least that was Midgardsormrs impression, while they passed a few knights who patroled through the building. Because those men had appeared a few seconds after Eriks last conclusion. And when they were out of reach, the Midlander didn't open his mouth again. Instead, he switched classes, whereby his corpus was again 'appareled' with that hideous armor of a Marauder alias Warrior.
Erik left the building and went over the courtyard to another construction, where the sentinels allowed him to enter without hesitation. Midgardsormr hovered the whole time next to Eriks face, because he still expected the guards to distrust his disguise. Hence, he was avowedly a bit relieved, when his eyes detected in the hall just in front of him the improperly dressed maiden.
She stood next to a wooden writing-desk; talking with that Fortemps-son.
Obviously they were enjoying a blitheful conversation, because both looked entirely happy.
Yawning, the Hyur stopped walking and folded his arms – vanished was the hurry from before. Midgardsormr couldn't help but glare at him. Although the man did have a point here... It didn't look like anybody else of the Warriors of Light would be ready, since even Tammy hadn't been present despite her claim to have no possessions scattered.
Thinking about her... The dragon could hear the Miqo'tes voice now.
Outside of the building, she was blabbering full-throated with the Paladin-Roegadyn. A chat so incidental and plain, that their discussion sounded like noise to his ears. Also, hardly recognizable, there were the voices of the Blackmage-Elezen plus the Whitemage-Lalafell in the background.
"Ah, finally they are ready. Thought we would grow roots meanwhile." Erik said dozily.
The Raen had noticed her leader's presence, but only now she reacted to him: "I'll just say goodbye to Haurchefant, if this is okay for you." Waving shiftless with his right hand, the Hyur responded: "Yeah, yeah, do this. I teach meanwhile our allies some manners. Their sense of time is awful..."
Snorting, Midgardsormr thought repining: 'Your manners are certainly worse.'
Not following Erik out of the hall, the dragon watched instead unemotional, how the Elezen anticipated the maiden up-front. Haurchefant looked with loving eyes at Cecilia, when he said: "Until tomorrow, my heroine. I promise to visit you in Ishgard as soon as my duties allow it."
Obviously embarrassed, the Au Ra blushed and bit into her lips. Nodded smiling.
The dragon couldn't help but averting his eyes in this moment.
Here it emerged again... His rage. Albeit it was rather jealousy of the knight, this time.
Speaking sweetish words to a maiden was surely something which all females liked – no matter, which species might be their very own. But that an Elezen had to be Cecilias charmer, while already this aristocratic-looking teenager must be her personal favorite, didn't help Midgardsormr with this strange sentiments he owned. Also, he didn't grasp, why male Elezen seemed to appeal to Cecilia. After all he hadn't forgotten, what he had heard in Ul'dah...
The Azure Dragoon was also a friend of hers. And as much as Midgardsormr had noticed through mortal's palaver, then this man was also an Elezen. Hmpf... Thinking about it, he remembered now Alphinauds phrase from the celebration... 'A Dragoon with a sharp tongue.' Tss, surely his weapon was sharper than any words he could pronounce.
Midgardsormr quivered, when an index-finger tipped against him.
He looked up to the maidens face; softening his stiff glance when his eyes found her tender smile. "I'm glad when you try to get along with Erik. You always seem to despise him." she expounded. Closing his lids, he let her hand glide over his left ear. "Thy leader is a mannerless person. I was... only surprised to see, that he owns nevertheless amenities. So I followed him somewhat."
Midgardsormr took a seat on her shoulder; relishing the feeling of her warm skin.
He didn't want to think too much about the aforesaid Hyur.
On the other hand, there was something else dwelling in his mind, which was baleful.
While the Warriors saddled their Chcobos, he didn't vocalize it. He even concealed his thoughts, when the ride began and the gate to the Steps of Faith came into sight. Focusing on Alphinaud and Tataru, who sat helpless like potato-bags on the large birds of the Paladin-Roegadyn as well as Blackmage-Elezen, he tried to distract himself from that queasy feeling which had nothing to do with the beclouding, dark-blue evening sky.
But when the adventurers and last members of the Scions dismounted in front of the construction, he couldn't oppress it anymore. Leaning his head slightly against Cecilias right ear, he whispered: "Thou thinkest, to find yonder salvation? Bury this hope. Thou will find nothing else but deception, desperation and death." He answered her gaze, when he felt it – her odd-colored eyes showed imperturbable resolution; his own emphasized pure disillusionment.
"We will go." ,she said after a few seconds, "There's no other place left for us. And even, if I'm just an ordinary adventurer... I will try to end the war. It's the wish of our hearts – mortals and dragons. We all yearn for peace. Perhaps we might share not exactly the same hopes for the war's outcome... But if there's a way left to coexist with each other... I want to make it happen."
Midgardsormr widened his eyes. She was deadly serious. Like a true dragon would be.
Sighing, he closed tired the lids. "Then continue. I'll stay by thy side."
