Primogenitor
Chapter Eleven
A tremble ran over his spine.
Gooseflesh spread as the quake conquered him; muscles tensing.
Was this, how he should experience the frosty environment from now on...? Didn't seem so different compared to his experiences with the puppet-like vessel... At least the first reaction of the new form was quite understandable. Exposed to the sharp air, it just behaved like any young dragon would do. Albeit there were no wings on the back which could function like a shield...
Midgardsormr blinked.
Hydaelyn had been levitating him while she created the new disguise that matched in her opinion his request at the most, yet now Her grace put the Methuselah carefully down. His feet hurt when they touched the ground – the sensitive skin protested noticeably against the cold. For a moment, their flesh heated up in order to protect itself... Toes freezing in the icy snow as the first body-parts just after the phenomenon of higher temperature vanished quickly.
But strangely enough, these feet became totally numb and resembled rather ice-blocks clinging to his legs than functional limbs. A reaction confusing as well as amusing him, simultaneously. This, as much as he could guess, must be normal for all mortal creatures who weren't blessed with Cecilia's unbelievable warmth.
Looking at aforesaid maiden, he nodded determined.
On his shaky, craned stilts he balanced to the carriage-leftovers. Not used to walking on two legs that were much longer compared to any draconic 'construction-plan', he wondered how men and Chocobos alike were able to move as fast as they did. Without a drawn-out tail – ANY tail, especially, he found it troublesome to navigate this lanky design.
Yet, this body was surprisingly strong for a 'beanpole'.
Freeing the blanket in order to get it for the Raen was a mere children's game.
When he wanted to return to her, Midgardsormr glanced unintentional at the dead carter. That Hyur didn't need anymore something which protected him from the cold... but this living disguise here did. Still, the changed dragon hesitated for a moment because of respect he had somehow developed for mentioned man, yet he knew it was a necessity to obtain something to wear.
He couldn't walk around next to people without clothes.
Carter's cheap cloak was the only piece which hadn't been damaged. The Methuselah would have taken the pullover underneath it, too, but the wool was soaked with blood, which disgusted him. Smeary fabric was something he had never liked while he was interacting with men in the past, wherefore even this current, extreme situation couldn't change his mind.
Midgardsormr enveloped his freezing skin in the coat. Amongst the unusual process, he recognized, that his new vessel possessed exactly the same injuries like the puppet-shape before. Seemingly, Hydaelyn used as a base for the new form his own creation...
The damages were deeply red compared to the skin. The open flesh was a huge contrast to the pale, slightly rosy facade, that was far away from resembling his former, dark-toned disguise. Probably, this body would need medical care... He wasn't good in determining, when mortal shapes actually required treatment and how serious bleeding scratches on them were. Howbeit the word 'scratches' matched perhaps not the way how people thought of those... wounds. At least he knew absolutely, that sleep alone would not suffice to cure this torso.
Teetering back, his corpus felt a bit better thanks to the clothing.
It made him exhale deeply while he sank next to the maiden on his knees. For a moment, the visible 'steaming' breath constrained his view – he had forgotten that this was a common trait alias disadvantage of mortals. Something counting from now on for him, as well. Nevertheless, Midgardsormr cautiously wrapped Cecilia into the blanket.
He was a little nervous when his arms enclosed her fragile shape, since every injury he couldn't see might strengthen the damage inside of the Au Ra if he just touched this body in a wrong way... But, even under this risk, there was no other possibility to rescue her life. It was the only way.
For the first time – in reality; not in a dream – he pulled her to his chest.
Just a handful of centimeters made him larger than the maiden. Holding her, the old dragon doubted the disguise's stamina thanks to that, yet had no other choice than to trust into Hydaelyn's miracle. Not always were things like they seemed, so he had to try... The soothing scent of the precious girl in his arms helped him to not lose control over his boiling panic and worry.
When Midgardsormr lifted Cecilia from the floor, he was despite his concern still perplexed.
She was indeed not as light as feathers; not like he was used from mortal creatures. A draconic body with the high his new vessel owned would already find her petite; fine-boned shape unnoticeable... But considering how the fugacious disguise was designed, that discovery must be a natural reaction. Matching her size on corporal level changed the conditions.
As he stood now upright in the snow, the Raen felt on the other hand pleasantly heavy in his arms. If her life wouldn't be in danger... he would have enjoyed carrying Cecilia today for the first time, after it had always been the other way round. Pulling softly closer, he leaned his face for a moment against hers; listened to her breath in order to check her health again. There wasn't much time left... even though she was indirectly stable. That much he could tell.
Midgardsormr began walking – tramping with much pressure within the legs in order to make sure, that he wouldn't lose balance. No risks allowed, yet no time to waste... Like that, the Methuselah started to climb the stretched spiral-way up; hoping to leave the Witchdrop soon.
He simply must succeed...
~C~
Eyes squinted tight; teeth ground harsh.
The snow-storm had perhaps lost strength, but remained still troublesome.
Midgardsormr was unable to walk as fast as he yearned for. Thanks to the sharp gusts which hilariously 'burned' on his face – as well as to the unaccustomed corpus. In the overwhelming cold, endlessly shivering was unavoidable. His feet had become so stiff, that he slowly expected from them to never recover after this task would be over. Permanent damage was logical... And there, where the cloak didn't cover his legs anymore, the numbness had conquered all flesh entirely...
The father of dragon-kind looked at the unconscious, weakened maiden in his arms.
He truly missed her naturally high temperature. She had always been his shield since the moment Hydaelyn made him join her... She was his protector... Generous, unconditional guardian...
Thinking about this turned his stomach upside-down.
He himself was powerless... Relaying on a naive girl was worse than anything the Mothercrystal could expect from chosen children, since Her grace could not interfere like dragons were able to. The only one who treated Cecilia like a pawn was the ancient fool who carried her right now...
Never would he have thought a mortal creature could gain something more meaningful and valuable than a dragon's sympathy. But now, in the back of his head crept the vague notion of being not more like simple penalty for a sin this maiden didn't even have committed. He had doomed her...
The worst about his realization was, that she would never admit this fact.
As he went further and further through the whirling snow, the vessel's heart hammered painfully against its breakable ribcage. Of course the Methuselah knew, that mortal shapes suffered usually fast under exhaustion... Yet, it was a nuisance to be confronted with this weakness in a moment as such trait wasn't allowed. Also, he recognized nervousness emerging from his subconsciousness when Camp Dragonhead's stonewalls finally appeared before him; making the beat even worse.
He needed calmness... Anxiety wasn't an option...
But a trained gaze was still stronger than an ordinary mortal eye. It allowed him to behold a proof, that worry wasn't inappropriate... How much it was correct to assume hostility...
The sentinels of the castle-complex's gate reacted alarmed, when they saw him in the distance. Their lances were instantly gripped in a threatening manner. Watching that, he marginally noticed gooseflesh on his skin; an ice-cold air-stream underneath the cloak although this wasn't possible.
Yet, the snowfall within the storm reduced slowly, wherefore the knights were thankfully able to see more than just a suspicious man coming to their home.
The two Elezen jerked slightly in shock when they recognized the unconscious Au Ra in Midgardsormr's arms. Calling full-throated for a doctor, one of them ran straight into the settlement, while the other went quickly to the dragon caged in a mortal vessel; dutifully seeking to help him. An unusual experience... If the soldier knew, that he faced an enemy, it wouldn't be this way...
The Methuselah remembered pretty well the feeling of metal; carved into his scales.
Rashly, the armored man reached out for Cecilia. "Let me help you. I can bring her to our physician so we won't lose important minutes." he offered. Even though it was an unalloyed noble intention, the ancient being in disguise shook his head.
With determined footsteps through Camp Dragonhead's gate the Methuselah signaled following, that the maiden's weight was yet no burden. Nevertheless, the Elezen walked right behind him: "Okay, but I'm here in case it becomes too hard for you. Just tell me when you need a break."
The disguised dragon nodded, yet knew he wouldn't accept the help.
In secret Midgardsormr didn't want a stranger to hold his precious girl. The bare thought vexed him. Surely blind possessiveness wasn't logical now, but... He could hardly keep himself in check. Beholding people on the street who noticed him with their whole consciousness made his instincts run wild. They might just see one of their kind and therefore he had no reason to fear them... Anyhow, nothing had the power to convince him of safety.
Nothing except her... Only Cecilia could do so...
A doctor and his female assistant appeared. The second sentinel led them with lots of space between their bodies; as a trained Elezen much faster than both Hyur. He looked worried at the Au Ra before duty forced him to return even unwilling to his place in front of the gate, since at least one person had to nonstop guard it. His reluctance was strange to behold... Probably, Cecilia was much more famous in Central Coerthas than Midgardsormr had realized so far...
"This adventurer...! What happened to her?" the doctor called appalled, while his feet had not yet brought him to the Methuselah plus the clingy gate-guarding elf who still overlooked the situation. Aforesaid Elezen next to Midgardsormr replied instantly: "These two were attacked by heretics!" Such words seemed to be a standard-response, as the bespectacled physician nodded knowingly.
Panting, he sprinted the last few meters in order to reach the unconscious Raen.
While Midgardsormr approached the Hyur as well, he noticed something disturbing... Apart from the gazes of the humans on the street, to be clear... His corpus caved slowly under missing strength. As the doctor was instantly busy with examining Cecilia per pulse-check, the dragon found it more and more exhausting to hold her. Those reserves which his new vessel owned seemed pretty low... For a draconic ratio, a comparable adult body would endure much more than this pitiful shape.
How could mortals be okay with such limited bodies every single day?
The eyes behind the doctor's glasses became deadly serious: "Firstly, I prescribe a proper treatment of her injuries in a heated sick-chamber after rendering first-aid – you keeper-idiots should have brought her quickly to me instant of urging this slow old man to leave his surgery! Secondly-"
"CECILIA!" a familiar voice boomed in the air.
Midgardsormr was in private relieved to see the familiar face of Haurchefant Greystone afield. Finally a mortal who didn't unsettle him... As one of Ishgard's best swordsmen, the Fortemps-son was in the blink of an eye by their sides; beholding hastily the favorite Warrior with widened, anxious irises. His face was a frozen mask of horror.
"What's wrong with her?! Why is she so pale?!" his voice almost cracked by fear as he nearly shouted these questions. Seeing Haurchefant out of control like this made the Methuselah realize, that at least a small remnant of self-discipline was left within his ancient mind... "SECONDLY..." ,the doctor repeated sharply while he sent healing energy into Cecilia, "...she is in a coma."
As the last word reached their ears, both Midgardsormr and Haurchefant winced in shock. Coma...? The mysterious condition which mortals were not always overcoming after losing consciousness? Something which could take a mind forever away even if the body seemed to be intact?
THIS was happening to the precious girl...?
Stomaching aforesaid information was harder than the increasing loss of stamina... The old Hyur, nevertheless, continued the explanation without noticing Midgardsormr's grave shock: "Her system was probably at the most damaged on the inside through a heavy fall instead of ordinary attacks. Magic might have weakened her drastically as well as paralyzed her nerves, but what truthfully almost killed this woman was a forceful impact with hard floor. It's a miracle that her heart still continues beating."
Keen eyes. Educated mind. Precise words. This spectacle-wearer needed not more than looking at the maiden and checking her pulse for knowing so much. He also stabilized the knock in her chest as if doing so was a mere blink of an eye for him. It was... quite impressive to behold. Especially, because this man was younger than teenage-dragons. Hence nothing could be more unbelievable than the fact how wasted mortal existences were with this hilarious short lifespan.
Hilarious... that the father of dragon-kind was now like that, too.
The first-aid seemed to be done as the physician withdrew from the Raen. "Now, could we bring her to my surgery, finally? I won't be able to do much more for my patient in the cold air as a doter, don't you juveniles think?" the speccy man demanded impatient; embarrassing his female assistant who was much younger than her boss.
As commander of Camp Dragonhead, the Fortemps-knight should probably reprimand the doctor, but he didn't concern himself with the harsh words. Lightly touching Midgardsormr's left arm, Haurchefant asked instead with a direct gaze into the dragon's wide eyes: "Can I carry Cecilia...? I'm worried about her... And you look tired... Please, am I allowed to...?"
~C~
Sky-blue irises examined the bewildered Methuselah observant.
Unable to hold eye-contact, Midgardsormr looked down at the maiden's face.
All his instincts fought against the decision, but he knew this new vessel was reaching its limit. Plus, the Fortemps-son deserved at least a little bit trust... Probably as the only inhabitant of Ishgard as well as generally Coerthas. Because... The unconditional faith in the Warriors of Light demonstrated a true rarity amongst humans of this area. A benign, warm heart. That was, after all, what Cecilia herself liked so much about the showpiece-Elezen.
He gave in.
Lifting the maiden into Haurchefant's arms, the dragon couldn't help but also loose against his need. When the good knight held her, Midgardsormr touched her left cheek. As if a small boulder was removed from his shoulders, the Methuselah felt a minimal warmth under his fingers. Not much – practically like a small burning candle in the coldness – yet next to her heartbeat a glimpse of hope. A sign... that her body could perhaps recover.
But... what about her mind...?
"Thank you..." the Fortemps-knight said hushed with a little smile on his lips.
All the dragon could do as some kind of response was to nod slightly. It felt too strange ; too foreign to think of ANY words meant for a person who was not Cecilia. Above all, the situation became even more awkward in this very second: Erik came to the fore. Keeping a bit distance, the Marauder internalized with raised brows the scene. It was very likely, that this man was raging inwardly... Nothing could make the Warrior's leader more aggressive than pain inflicted upon his 'sister'.
Haurchefant and the doctor set off – not recognizing the Raen's 'brother'.
Anyway, the physician's assistant didn't leave. Instead, she studied Midgardsormr – the dim eyes seemed to pity every millimeter of his battered disguise. Without Cecilia in his arms, he didn't know which reaction might be appropriate to counter such an unabashed stare.
The female Hyur stated: "You are not in a good shape either, right? You got hurt in the fight, too... Come later to me – I will treat you. What's your name? I have to write all patient-names down..." Pulling out a small scratchpad from her robe's pocket, she stared at him even more.
This woman seemed to be attracted to his mortal shape – even he as an antique fool figured that out. But he couldn't care less for a fatuitous nurse... His mind was busy with developing an answer to something as banal as the question of a dragon's name. Normally it was self-evident for mortals how to address their sworn enemies; formerly allies. There was no need to introduce oneself...
How could even somebody care, which appellation this dispensable, featureless vessel here wore...? It was a false front... Would sooner or later die... Who cared for its name?!
Feeling Erik's sharp eyes in his neck like a blade, Midgardsormr was entirely over-strained.
The only response he could think of was the joke Cecilia had made a few days ago – days that were seemingly eternities away from today. And... Not directly a joke, no... When the archmage mentioned how she would have called him – as description for the cooperative children helping her to find the runaway 'puppet' – in case he had been humane...
"Midge... Luminae."
His voice sounded foreign in his ears.
It was too bright; too young. Simply altered. It sounded like it had once been millenniums ago... When he was not even a father yet. When he had just been, what humans described as young adults. The pitch was quite similar to Aymeric's voice...
However, his mortal disguise itself must be younger than he was expecting. The realization made his heart skip a few beats. Nervously, he lifted his right hand – let it brush over his forehead. Mentioned action pretended to push a hair-strand out of his face, but in truth he palpated the skin. This texture felt clean and was quite flat; possessing no deep wrinkles.
While his perplexity petrified the dragon, doctor's assistant nodded as response to his declaration and wrote the lie down into her scratchpad with a sharpened pencil. Gaping for a few more seconds at the Methuselah, her gaze wandered suddenly in shame down to the ground.
"Oh! You have no shoes!" she mentioned startled. He jerked a little as the nurse studied his feet with worried eyes. Before he could respond, she said: "Here, you can have my old Maple Pattens. They were always too big for me and I already bought new ones. Sentimentality didn't let me trash the only gift my boss ever gave me, but you definitely need them more than I do. It's really okay when you take the pattens. You don't need to pay me."
Not asking for permission, the assistant took the shoes off and put his feet into them. The touch was too swift for him to avoid, but he felt deeply debased to be physically contacted by a foreign mortal. Aversion mixed with shock slipped over his mien. Remnants of his true body's death. As she stood again upright next to him, the woman beheld his stressed or fierce expression. As if bitten by a dog, the assistant hurried to return to her workplace; leaving a confused dragon behind.
~C~
His irritation got quickly diffused.
Because Cecilia's so-called brother came closer to him.
Looking at the vanishing nurse, the man's attention lay of course still on something else.
"Wow, trends reach me obviously way too late when I would like to take part. I haven't recognized, how popular 'Extreme Nordic Walking' had recently become. Say, would you recommend the sport for an amateur like me?" the ill-humored Hyur asked with a mocking smirk. The gray-blue eyes glanced additionally for a short moment sideways at Midgardsormr – in an insulting, harsh way. They demonstrated, that Erik was inwardly angered, even if he acted in an amused manner.
Sighing, the dragon caged in a humane corpus lowered his gaze at the ground.
He wasn't in the mood for any sick discussions with an enraged brother-figure who just waited for the right moment to behead him... After all, Erik knew for sure what the word 'coma' meant... Fearing, that the beloved 'sister' would never recover, could easily turn the Hyur into a savage.
But... even if the Methuselah hated to do so... Even detested his new- old- or whatever voice... He could not stay quiet even with a battle-ax within reach. The churning chaos inside of him was very close to take him over, too, so he needed something to channel it.
"Making jokes does not unburden the situation..." he muttered consumed by anger; guilt.
The bright, stinging glow of his irises emerged for a moment, just in order to wither quickly because his self-hatred drowned in the pure worry for the archmage. He felt awkward to experience so many sentiments in the same moment... Wrath; rage; sorrow; anguish; confusion; frustration. Such a fast contrast-bath of emotions was foreign to him; almost unworldly.
There had been akin moments before in his past, but...
Not so intense...
Despite his bad mental condition, he noticed, how Erik shrugged unperturbed. Without another sign of sarcasm, the Warrior stated: "We all need from time to time somebody who acts like an uncaring, foul idiot. It makes us realize how glad we can be to have sensitive hearts. You should be happy, that you still possess such strong feelings like regret and anxiety, Midgard."
The Methuselah raised his head in an instant. Eyes ripped widely open.
"W-What...?" he began perplexed, but no more words left his trembling mouth.
Erik bestowed now a direct smile at him, but that mortal mien showed no longer devilish facets. Those metallic windows of a humane soul reflected honest pity, while the man's lips barely held up the try of a comforting expression. Somehow, the gruff Marauder seemed to have suddenly unleashed his sentimental side.
"I know you." ,Erik started almost dovelike, "So why should I not distinguish the old-timer-dragon whom I'm used to, when he just appears in another shape...? I figured out, that you would do a lot – as long as it's for Ceci. Edgar is quite the same, after all, though he comes from my Eorzea..."
Over-strained by these words, the dragon couldn't react.
Everything happening without Cecilia close to him had a paralyzing effect...
Thus, asking for details was impossible – even though he wished to finally question things.
His interlocutor noticed that, so he continued: "The bird betrayed me when we reached this Eorzea. See, he became loyal to her in the very second he lay his chocolate-eyes on my personal sister. Before that occurrence, nobody else than me would have been able to ride on this white Chocobo. And now? Tss, not even I can dream about his devotion. Therefore... it is no miracle, what you did. That you sacrificed yourself for her. You might be another version of MY geezer, but... It's always the same thing with you bullhead. The one chosen by you... gains all of your dedication."
Erik smiled suddenly in a vulnerable manner.
As if an old wound would have again opened – bleeding him empty.
"Albeit I must admit... Giving your immortality up... impacts on me by far more than the last action your other version had done for me. I thought his powerful kamikaze-performance in order to cover Edgar's and my escape from our dying world would be the greatest- most selflessly renunciation Midgardsormr would ever be able to go through with... Yet, I was wrong... Because you surpass it. You surpass him. Your friendship with my sister surpasses ours. She affects you so far, FAR better than I could have ever hoped for to do for my companion. Cecilia is... like a remedy for you."
The dragon shook slowly his head; the widened eyes full of overstress.
He couldn't take it to hear her name now.
"Thou must be mistaken... Thou cannot be serious in this moment... I am not... what thou try to picture me as... I am not... like a hero... If I was such a being... she wouldn't be now in a coma... Nothing and nobody would have harmed her... I would have kept her SAVE...!" his voice lost from word to word its usual calm, muted nature; almost screaming the last letters in self-abhorrence.
Groaning intense, he squinted the eyes and held his head. Tore on the rather short hair of this skull. Bit the humane lips with clenched jaws. Tasted the altered blood in his mouth. Oh Her grace, Hydaelyn... He wished to destroy the corpus for which he had prayed way, way too late...
If the maiden's mind shouldn't recover...
He wouldn't survive the loss...
~C~
"Kweeeh...?"
Tender, anxious tweets filled the silent air.
Opening his eyes, the Methuselah saw a familiar white bird approaching.
The chocolate-brown irises studied him; wisdom wafting in their expression. Midgardsormr noticed slightly crestfallen, that the Chocobo identified him once more. Despite the different disguise, somehow Edgar had no trouble to see through the illusion; to see the ancient dragon.
He came slowly close to him and lowered the feathered head with that threatening beak.
Closing the lids in expectation, Midgardsormr uttered soundless: "I deserve it... Do thy worst..." Strangely, the bird didn't peck him this time. Instead of that, he abruptly nuzzled the Methuselah with both face and spout. Giving compassionate gazes when the dragon dared to look at him.
"I-I... I do not understand..." the antique male stuttered muted.
Edgar continued unperturbed; fine plumage pressing softly on Midgardsormr's right cheek. Gentleness lay in the action which was the pure opposite to his normal behavior. As if the Chocobo had completely forgotten, how he used to treat him... But... Was this perhaps... supposed to be some kind of comforting?
Glancing helpless at Erik, it didn't look like that man was going to help him. The Warrior's leader just chuckled minimal with a weary smile... Then, Erik folded his arms and commented: "Let him. My ex-vehicle was sulking since the moment our old geezer had sacrificed himself. The lost version of yours made sure that we could escape from our decaying world – albeit that meant to be on the cost of his life. Hence, Edgar could of course not stand it to see Midgard again. It doesn't matter, that you're another exemplar. You are still you."
Sinking to his knees, Edgar tugged cautiously at the cloak's sleeve. Doing so several times with more and more strength, the Chocobo's doing irritated Midgardsormr. Beholding the weird being, he payed nevertheless attention to Erik's next words: "Above all, his beloved Cecilia cares obviously a lot for 'the new Midgard'. In other words... You were additionally angering him. It's not, like he would share her willingly with a 'disloyal bandit'. But in spite of that, he is still fond of the old dragon we got to meet in our world. And as he owns lots of sensitivity, he feels your pain now. How much my sister means to you. This proof of affection makes him forgive the 'traitor'."
Letting go of the sleeve, Edgar nudged Midgardsormr's ribcage two times.
"What art thou doing?" he whispered confused. It hurt where the bird touched him...
Impatience slipped over the Chocobo's face. Before the dragon could react to it, that beak snatched his cloak; tearing at the fabric. This creature possessed obviously lots of strength, because it easily dragged him without trouble onto its back despite his struggle. Erik watched their interaction with unhindered malicious-joy – laughed devilish when Midgardsormr stared over-strained at him.
Holding the hurting bones, the Methuselah complained: "Thou thinkest this is amusing...?!"
"From my point of view, it is." ,the rude man replied, "Your alternate version made always sure Edgar wouldn't push too hard. I suppose in return he prevents any additional exhaustion for you because he feels like owing you the favor. Well, just let him carry you to the medical office. Supposed, that you do not want to be injured longer than necessary." Mildly laughing, the Marauder watched when his former pet stood up with an upset, disguised dragon on its back.
While the Chocobo trotted unhurried along the way so Erik could keep up with his tempo, Midgardsormr recognized quietly: "I'm irritated... It always seemed this creature was adoring thee... But thou said he does no longer allow thee to ride on him..."
"Of course not. Ceci is Edgar's self-chosen master in this world. He has switched his preferences. … We are still best buddies, if you are worried about that point. Thus he 'adores' me, like you said. Only the intensity became weaker in favor of my sister." Furrowing the brows, the Methuselah got for a short moment distracted by a returning patrol who carried a familiar looking Hyur-corpse, before he gaped disbelieving at Erik.
"You dragons really have a personal problem with 'betrayals', huh?" ,the impolite Hyur stated in a mocking tune, "I recall when my geezer was not happy because I sympathized with Haurchefant. Since I was 'dropping' Alphinaud. But in the very moment I got to befriend Aymeric, oh well... Midgard was completely enraged for days. The only way he would communicate with me were furious snarls and hissing."
"Thou art awfully talkative when thou art speaking to me..." the dragon noticed when they reached the targeted building. Helping him down from Edgar, the Marauder answered: "I always get excited when I think about my ancient comrade. For an unknown reason, none of my friends' versions in this world trigger this excitement, respectively, but you do it all the more. Special case, you see. Perhaps because I'm happy whom you choose this time. I would no longer match you. As I got... disillusioned when my world died."
Erik squeezed Midgardsormr's hand before he let go of it; confusing the Methuselah.
Hardly enduring Edgar's impatient head pressing him to the door, he asked: "Thou hast lost faith? And therefore, even thy bird chose somebody more... bright...?" Shrugging, the Ax-bearer opened the squeaky wood for him. "Like the dragons got shocked by what happened to one of their kind... we humans can also be changed forever." "Thou know about...?" the dragon-father couldn't speak any further as two humans stood in the entrance-room.
Smirking, the Marauder pulled Midgardsormr's head slightly to the side; leaning his gruff mouth against the left ear of the disguised being. His voice was a husky, almost evil whisper: "Ratatoskr? Of course I do. The one telling me about her in my world, after all... was you."
Paralyzed by this information, the dragon couldn't move.
An abrupt snort and rolling eyes demonstrated Erik's displeasure about it, yet the Marauder simply pulled Midgardsormr to the room where the nurse from before was currently writing down something in a thick book. "Got already time to care for my buddy?" the Warrior's leader said with a pitch sounding entirely wrong. It was... a charming tune. Under tender glances coming from those normally cold steel-eyes, the assistant blushed: "O-Of course I can treat him now. M-My boss doesn't need me at the moment as he called for a skilled healer to support him. Therefore, naturally your friend will have my fullest attention. Y-You can stay if you want."
"Good to hear." the manipulate man stated contended.
~C~
While the woman led Midgardsormr to a stool, the dragon couldn't help it.
Using telepathy, he snarled quietly: 'Thou show me another reason for disliking thee...' Erik grinned like a demon; fully aware of the sin. Then, Her gift – truthfully wasted on this man – made him able to respond self-absorbed: 'I CAN be nice to other humans despite my personal scars, even though it's just a means to an end. Strangers bore me. And the mirrors of familiar faces in this world do hardly hold my interest. For Cecilia, on the other hand... I don't feel like faking it.'
The only thing they had in common...
Clear affection for this special Au Ra was all what connected them.
Sitting down, Midgardsormr beheld skeptical as the nurse tried to take the cloak away. Unsettled by the prospect of another unwanted contact, he murmured: "This is... the only piece of cloth I wear..." She raised her head and stared with big eyes at him; Erik chuckled ill-humored about the situation.
How could another Midgardsormr have ever been attached to this man...?
"W-Well then... Under these circumstances, I will just open the upper part of your cloak. And set your arms free. Is that okay for you?" the nurse aspirated embarrassed. Nodding, the dragon signaled full cooperation, wherefore she did what she had announced.
Gooseflesh spread over his skin thanks to the exposure; not for the air as the chamber was warm. He gave his very best to stay in control as she palpated his skin in order to check the injuries' state, yet, it felt so unnatural... Mortal fingers on his vulnerable chest were wrong even though his body was also humanely... The disinfection afterwards burned worse than a sharp sword cutting through his scales or organs, but he stayed notwithstanding motionless.
'Keep the panic down... Keep. It. Down...' he told himself over and over.
Rubbing thick ointment into his flesh, the woman didn't notice the pained expression lingering in his eyes. Erik, however, was attentive: "Please be gentle with my buddy. He is a shy man and doesn't dare to admit when something hurts." His words made the nurse's head become deeply red. The darkened color didn't vanish albeit her eyes did never look up. Midgardsormr glanced irritated at the Warrior's leader. 'Why is thy phrase making her feel uncomfortable?' he wanted to know while those hands on his wounds touched him much more careful.
The steely eyes observing him glistered in amusement. 'Keh... Innocent old geezer... She got an adult mind. Or should I say... dirty? Just count one and one together.' that nasty man suggested. Wrinkling his nose, Midgardsormr understood now the abstract idea this woman must have in mind. As a bandage was put around his chest, he replied cold: 'I pity this female... Not being able to see how much I despise thee made her fall for thy pretended consideration. Thy lie. Unabashed as only thou would be... Above all, thou playest with her seemingly romantic thoughts.'
Tiny chuckling assured him, how less Erik cared for the insult. But for the trick itself he showed some interest: 'Women tolerate not only, but love couples of the same gender. In my world, I was victim of their fluffy imagination in consideration of Haurchefant. This was sometimes helpful, sometimes a pain in the neck. Although Aymeric didn't like that at all. Hence, you old dragon rebuked me often. Telling me to not overdo my luck with those favoring me.'
Midgardsormr furrowed his brows.
While the nurse tested, if his bandage was not too tight, he asked: 'Thou art... not picky when it comes to thy mate's gender...? But didn't thou speak sometimes kindly of this dead woman, Moenbryda?' Odd silence lasted for a short moment. And astonished eyes studied him. As if he had uttered something hilariously wrong. But then: 'Meh, just look who behaves typical for his former- original standards. Hah, poor Midgard. I had forgotten that YOU are not used to me being bisexual. Hope this will not make you grow now some grey hair.'
In fact, it didn't disturb the Methuselah. Because of Cecilia's preferences, it wasn't shocking to hear, how her so-called brother was similar different compared to ordinary mortals. The only thing which confused him was the mention of Aymeric's name... The way how Erik pronounced this name... Restrained agony floated in the sound his thoughts made.
The nurse let finally go of Midgardsormr. He was relieved to feel no longer these foreign hands on his body, yet didn't forget this time his manners. It was appropriate, after all, albeit his words revealed shyness: "I thank thee... Thou hast not only cared for my injuries, but hast also given me thy shoes before... This was... very bounteous..." She smiled embarrassed at him. There was really no denial, that her mind was drawn to his disguise...
"Do not let him woo you." ,Erik grinned, "He is for sure too old for such a pretty, young angel." Listening beet-red to the compliment, the woman laughed abashed: "Oh, aren't you a sugary rascal, Mister Marauder." With that, her attention drifted entirely to mentioned man.
Sighing eased, Midgardsormr got dressed.
'Do not misinterpret my friendliness. I just prevent her from becoming too attracted. It's better when she doesn't adore you more than necessary as long as you can't take it well. We have no time for collecting silly devotees who don't get you.' the calculating Hyur explained. As the dragon gripped with a shiver in his hands the cloak's last button, he trembled slightly. 'In spite of thy maliciousness, I fear I have to be grateful... Her touch was indeed over-straining me...'
Feet quivering, the Methuselah stood slowly up.
His mental reserves were slowly falling into a never-ending abyss...
If Erik had recognized that issue or not, he couldn't tell for sure, but the Hyur was anyways helpful. He asked bluntly: "Can we go to see my sister or does the doc need more time?" Shaking her head, the nurse replied: "Perhaps you can visit her already, but it's better to ask my boss before doing so. Wait a moment to let me call him."
While she pulled a linkpearl out of the pocket, the Warrior's leader commented: 'These things really have come in handy... While I was at Whitebrim, Haurchefant phoned me because Ceci didn't return from Steel Virgil. I passed the knowledge per linkshell to the others in Ishgard, but told them to wait before doing anything headless. And when I returned to Camp Dragonhead plus heard the sentinel shouting for a doctor, guess what I did firstly before coming to you.'
The nurse's call was short and quick; resulting in the allowance to see the maiden. But...
"When you walk to the respective sick-room... Please be prepared that she'll be still fast asleep. There's no miracle going to happen." ,the woman said with a compassionate expression, "Her body is going to recover comparably quickly in the next weeks, yet this counts not for her consciousness. We cannot say if or when she will wake up."
Midgardsormr squinted the eyes in agony; unable to breathe.
Erik scratched audible his head: "I'd lie if I pretended to have not hoped for nicer news... A straw we all could clutch at... Uff, can't be helped anymore, I guess. Let's go, Midge."
~C~
Haurchefant stood next to a small bed in the chamber's opposite corner.
Softly, his hand rested on her pale forehead; caressing the maiden as he beheld the peaceful face.
Midgardsormr gulped when he saw this scene. Knowing, how much the Elezen was holding Cecilia in his heart, made him feel unneeded as well as out of place. It wasn't his right to be here... Especially not after failing to do the right thing. To do the right thing in the very first moment – when he woke up in Witchdrop's depths... His realization; his prayer had almost been too late. Almost taking her life. Something as unforgivable as Ishgard's sin in the past...
The Fortemps-son, on the other hand, would probably not have hesitated to sacrifice whatever was necessary to save her... He wouldn't have needed a moment to realize, what to do...
"She's... on the inside gravely injured. The doctor said, she had surely died in case one more hour would have passed." the knight spoke soundless. Like a blade, these words were cutting into Midgardsormr's chest albeit he had emotionally been aware before of her condition.
Erik nodded and stepped to Haurchefant's side: "Yet, her body will recover. Ceci's a strong-willed, energetic woman. Do not bury your head like an ostrich into the sand – or snow. She will be fine." "If it would be that simple... It's frustrating we can't help her." the Fortemps-son sighed gloomily. Apparently entire natural, the Marauder patted Haurchefant's left shoulder. "Stay as positive as we know you. She's surely not happy in case you'll lose your smile." The corners of the Elezen's mouth went a little up: "Thanks... Still, I wish I could just do something for her."
"How about getting her to a proper environment, then?" a masculine voice asked.
Turning bewildered around, the dragon spotted Cid Garlond right behind him. The engineer payed no attention to Midgardsormr, though. Instead of this, he passed him and stopped in front of the bed – eyeballing the other two mortals with severe gazes that resembled a wolf's glance.
Raising one brow, Erik stated: "That was indeed quick... I didn't expect you to be so early here." The white-bearded man shook his head in resignation. Afterwards, he grumbled: "Biggs and Wedge can work for a moment by themselves. After all, they did so for five years... No need to point it out. But Cecilia isn't able wait that long. We should bring her as fast as possible to Ishgard."
"What?! You can't be serious!" ,the knight protested indignant, "She is in a deadly weakened state! How can you even consider a transport?!" Studying Haurchefant with caustic eyes that were even harsher than a dragon's judgement, Cid stated soberly: "No horse or carriage could be as smooth and fast as the Enterprise. Besides, you think of the drawbacks to let her stay in Camp Dragonhead? It's not save here, if you compare the settlement to your Holy City. And due to better medical care, recovering is more likely for her in a warm chamber of Ishgard."
"But her condition... What if the travel is too much for her system? Do the two of you really think she could take it now?" the Elezen asked worried while he looked at both men. Erik just nodded; the engineer responded: "A change of mind won't happen – since we know it's the best for Cecilia. Especially in case the Count allows us to use a permanent guestroom in the manor instead of temporarily abidance which the Warriors had asked for. That would be far more effective than any shabby room in this settlement. Not meant to offend you, but all resources for a good treatment can rather be found at your official home than here."
"You really think so, too, don't you...?" Haurchefant asked hopeless while he gazed into Erik's eyes. "Yeah." ,the gruff man replied, "Even though I know how discomposed you feel, I must still insist on the rational solution. Greater safety plus more specialized doctors are an unignorably advantage we simply don't have here."
Under these solid arguments, the knight looked down at the floor; eventually forced to give in: "Okay... I accept your reasons... Just let me ask the physician if he's fine with the transport."
It was not directly a miracle to watch how Haurchefant utilized like the nurse before a linkpearl for the short-lived discussion with mentioned spectacle-wearer. Yet, ostensible he had been the only one who needed a lot convincing, because his call ended quickly with the result of satisfying that wish both Hyur had formulated.
While all of this happened, Midgardsormr just kept silent. He didn't know, what would be the best for her, since dragons didn't do more than simply sleeping until their injuries vanished. Therefore, he hoped Erik's decision would be the correct thing to do, as he himself was entirely useless...
Was this, what mortals called a depression?
Cid folded the arms when Haurchefant had announced the doctor's decree.
Leaning his head onto the right shoulder, the engineer questioned Erik: "Are you sure, by the way, that Count Fortemps will welcome the 'assault'? I heard you guys were not accepting an offer to stay at the mansion." The Marauder sighed shortly: "Well... For now, the Lord is fine that we unfaithful asked to borrow a sick-room. But it wouldn't be wrong to ask explicit for a longer stay, that's right. We preferred the tavern while we had the chance to live in Fortemps' villa, so indeed Sir Edmont will probably not enjoy our greedy request. Yet, we will nevertheless beg him."
Putting the linkpearl away, the knight added earnestly: "Excuse me, my father is a generous man. Because of everything what you Warriors of Light have done so far for us as Coerthas' inhabitants, he is unconditionally proud to call you all friends of the Fortemps. Thus, you rather dishonor him when you do not ask for help. At the most, when it is for Cecilia. I never kept it a secret how much she means to me, hence my father knows about her importance."
For a moment, this statement was hurting Midgardsormr.
But the dragon forbade himself to dive deeper into this feeling of jealousy. He had all done what mere dragon-kind could do for a mortal maiden – even more than that. Now, it wasn't his place anymore to demonstrate possessiveness.
"We need some kind of stretcher to bring her to the Enterprise." ,Cid recognized concentrated, "Carrying Cecilia on my shoulders would normally be no problem, but I doubt her state of health allows such an action now." How taken for granted the engineer could pronounce this last phrase... On his shoulders; just like he had embraced her back then in Abalathia... Narrowing the lids, Midgardsormr pushed the memory of Cid holding the amused girl into the air aside.
'Stay in control.' he commanded himself sternly.
Haurchefant left the room in order to obtain the requested object; passing the disguised Methuselah with a perplexed expression in the eyes when those noticed him standing next to the door. Seemingly, nobody was caring enough for him to question his presence. Which should really be delighting the dragon – if there wouldn't be a urgent question pressing onto his brain...
When the knight returned, it was him who asked the thought which burdened Midgardsormr's mind: "Say, what about your friend, Erik? Where will he stay?" Raising the brows as if a banal topic would have come up, the Marauder didn't bother to give an answer. Instead, he took the stretcher from Haurchefant and put it next to the bed on the ground.
While Cid helped the 'brother' to place the maiden – mostly covered in a thick brown blanket – carefully onto this aid, the white-bearded man asked: "You don't tell me, that you want to take him to Ishgard, right? Without any allowance from higher instances, the laws won't let you pick this unjustified visitor up. In worst case, Inquisitors will use him to condemn you for betrayal."
When the two Hyur slowly lifted the stretcher, the Warrior answered focused with severe gazes at Cid and Haurchefant: "No law is going to tell me I have to leave my friend behind. Can't you see how shocked he is? He's the most peaceful adventurer you'll ever going to meet – and he was confronted with such a horrible situation like watching his beloved one almost dying. I can't live with separating him now from Ceci. And I hope none of you could."
Both men stared over-strained at Erik as well as Midgardsormr. Completely bewildered, however, the dragon wasn't able to react. His brain was busy with encoding the meaning behind these words. The Marauder, though, wasn't unsettled or impaired in any way: "C'mon, guys, let's carry my sister to the airship. Today, if you don't mind."
Cid – meanwhile positively surprised – did as Erik asked, so they passed the irritated knight and frozen Methuselah. However, the adventurer stated loud-mouthed in the corridor: "Haurchefant, could you take Midge to the Enterprise, please? I guess his shyness is paralyzing him right now. Surely he's not yet officially used to being Ceci's darling, but I can promise you anyways she'll get plumply angry with us in case we let him now alone like that."
Jerking, the Fortemps-son got a grip and asked politely: "Shall I show you the way, Midge?" Staring with widened eyes at the knight, Midgardsormr nodded helplessly. His visible awkwardness seemed to calm Haurchefant's own trouble, because the Elezen smiled knowingly and put a hand onto the dragon's shoulder. Oddly enough, the contact wasn't unbearable. It was comforting.
"Everything will be okay, I promise." the sympathetic man uttered.
~C~
Right in front of Camp Dragonhead.
Next to the road on a flat spot, the Enterprise had been landed.
Cid's airship seemed to brave even the returning snowfall. Unperturbed by the icy gusts, it's sail did barely move with the air-streams. Bent not under any kind of pressure. Surely the construct wasn't for nothing the most valuable thing which the engineer owned.
As the little group walked through the ice-crystals, Midgardsormr was in secret relieved thanks to the unorthodox vehicle. Imagining, how far away Ishgard truly was and how long the Steps of Faith were, he wouldn't have agreed on transporting the archmage by feet. At least so much he knew about mortal health: Walking in the cold took too much time plus reserves. And yes, a carriage wasn't much better thanks to all these quakes while driving on the snowy street.
Edgar accompanied them.
But it wasn't for joining the trip. The Chocobo bore only interest into seeing, if his master was treated in the way she deserved it during her transport. His brown eyes were silently speaking of helplessness and resignation, thus the animal wasn't considering to go to Ishgard as well – despite nothing preventing him from doing that. Such intelligent bird was truly a rare occurrence...
Cid and Erik went without problems onto the object; laying the stretcher down in the ship's middle. While the former started the motors, the later helped Midgardsormr to climb onto the Enterprise. Tight grip around his right hand, the Marauder pulled him quickly up. This wasn't going all too well with these unaccustomed legs, though, wherefore the dragon stumbled.
Fortunately, Haurchefant stabilized him instantly, so the Methuselah wasn't falling backwards. "Careful, Midge. Don't hurt yourself." the knight said gently; confusing Midgardsormr who still wasn't coping well with being treated like a human. While Erik dragged him now swiftly aboard, the Elezen followed only when he was sure that the disguised dragon was fine.
Such gentleness coming from an enemy was foreign to Midgardsormr...
He didn't know what to do or how to behave, which made him feel quite nervous. The anxiety was choking him to the point where no word would leave his throat even if he wanted to. But at least something small could distract his petrified mind... As her 'brother' checked Cecilia's breath, Midgardsormr found an option to make himself useful. Next to the stretcher, he sat down in order to hold two of the carry-handles. Just in case; to avoid any turbulences.
The Marauder and Fortemps-knight meanwhile took standing-rooms next to the steering-wheel. Glancing at the maiden, Cid frowned and navigated afterwards the Enterprise into the air. Strange... Wasn't he acting very self-confident before...? Looked like Erik's stubbornness had not entirely convinced the engineer of the transport...
Anyway, the vehicle's movement was unusual for the disguised dragon. So far he had only traveled on airships due to occupying the maiden's shoulder or weapon. Therefore, it startled him a bit to feel all the vibrations unhindered. Watching Cecilia's pale face with worried eyes, he hoped the flight wouldn't last any longer than necessary. Even as a smooth possibility to reach Ishgard, he was afraid every single tremble could strengthen her injuries... In the next few minutes, the Methuselah kept perfectly still to hold the stretcher in place; not twitching a single muscle.
Then...
Reaching Ishgard's port made the Enterprise shake notedly underneath.
Thus, his hands clawed unintended into both carry-handles; jaws clenched and eyes widened. Logically considered, the ship's quake wasn't troublesome. No problem at all. But an ancient dragon who wasn't used to such voyaging could nevertheless find the halt quite unsettling. He cramped... Only when Cid's vehicle stopped entirely, he dared to let the stretcher go.
Standing up on slightly shaking stilts, Midgardsormr looked nervously around.
To his relief, the airport wasn't very lively. There were only two employees; nothing to care for...
When Erik and Cid gripped once more the stretcher, he tried to demonstrate readiness to help them. By placing lightly a hand onto Erik's, he silently enforced eye-contact which emphasized his wish to do more for Cecilia; to be no burden for her friends. But her 'brother' shook smiling the head. "It's okay, let it be for now. Recover at first your own reserves." the man assured him softly.
This made the dragon look bewildered at the Hyur; not putting the useless hand in the air down. What kind of tune was that, suddenly...?! It was not the pretended direful friendliness from before... It was real kindness – something too foreign considering the gruff Warrior.
"Come, we take the two of you to my father's manor." Haurchefant stated gentle and offered Midgardsormr support for climbing down the airship. Touching mortals had never been a problem, but feeling their grip was still an agonizing occurrence... Even if just the expectation to sense pain loomed over his head... Reminding himself, what he was now – what Hydaelyn had turned him into, there was yet no possibility to deny the knight's open hand.
When their feet touched the stony floor, Midgardsormr heard something. A familiar noise; children. The ones who had helped Cecilia to find him days ago. It was a clear coincidence that they were playing under the gazes of their parents not far away from the airport, but still they were here. Noticing the maiden on the stretcher instantly.
The girl with her long hazelnut-brown hair ran immediately to the small group.
"Oh no, what happened to Ceci?!" she called with that noisy, high-pitched voice. Her brother appeared right behind her: "Is Ceci sick?! Got she injured?!" Like an incarnation of pure patience, Cid explained calmly with fatherly tunes: "It's so: Ceci was hurt when she helped out at Steel Vigil. Yet, a doctor of Camp Dragonhead took already care of her. Do not worry, kids."
The siblings looked a bit anxiously at Haurchefant, whose face had become gloomy in the second the engineer was telling them the rough story. But as the personal hero of the poor and homeless, the knight was quickly regaining his positive, almost shining mood: "Little ones, we're bringing her now to Fortemps' villa. With the best medical care, I'm pretty sure that Ceci is soon recovering from the accident." "So, she'll be alright?" the boy asked hopeful.
Nodding, the Elezen knelt down next to the two Hyur. "I'm sure she will one day play again with you two rascals, yes. But in the meantime you must truly be good children and do well-behaved your homework instead of annoying your parents. Are you understanding this?" the knight said with a mischievous expression. Smiling, the children nodded in agreement.
Their parents came also slowly to the group.
Midgardsormr recognized their faces – the maiden as an Astrologian had helped these citizens several times out. As he contemplated when both adults embraced comforting their offspring, it was undeniable how much the view of an unconscious, as-white-as-a-sheet archmage troubled them. Pity and worry were written in their miens. The couple offered following to help, but – of course – Erik didn't accept: "I prefer carrying my personal sister with my very own two hands, thank you. Walk by our sides, if you really want to support us."
Although the words were polite, Midgardsormr clearly noticed the absent gentleness. The soft pitch which the Marauder had given him before wasn't present. Hence, had Erik just manipulated him? For having less stress? Or was he simply not interested into exhibiting some positive sentiments after the other two men had already cheered the children up...?
However, the family with their striking hazelnut-brown hair accompanied the group indeed.
Passing the Astrology-guild, suddenly the small girl stared at Midgardsormr. Albeit he walked next to Erik, it seemed he was still drawing attention... Impossible to figure out, though, how he could even be a matter of interest... Why an adventurer with this specific charisma shouldn't overshadow an ordinary mortal corpus. At least Midgardsormr didn't find this disguising shape here noticeable. It had a normal skin-tone, as much as he could tell. Wasn't unnatural large. He might not know hair- or eye-color, but as long as his irises were not filled with rage... Ergo a crimson glow which even Her grace seemed unable to take from him, there was no reason to be worried.
This disguise didn't reveal, what he truly was.
Yet, these childish eyes lay never-ending on him. Curious; sort of disturbing...
"Would you please stop studying this handsome man? You are embarrassing us!" the girl's mother told her in a hushed manner. "But he is so silent! Just like a ghost! And he looks so stiff as if he was walking on a minefield." the little one noticed muted. "Where are your manners? He's one of Cecilia's friends! Be more respectful." ,the woman scolded, "If all of us would be so rude like you, the Warriors of Light would surely never again enter Ishgard!"
Haurchefant laughed lighthearted and shook his head: "I'm sorry for overhearing your conversation, but... I doubt my friends would leave just because of a little bit curiosity. Especially not when it comes from a child. They would tell you instantly, if something bothers them, so don't worry."
"At least this counts for me." ,Erik added grinning, "If any should insult me, eating impolite kids for lunch is a hobby of mine." The Marauder chuckled when both siblings ripped their eyes open. Complaining about his ill-humored joke, the girl pointed at him plus waved her hand.
Midgardsormr felt a tiny smile crack over his mouth.
They were humans just like the others, but their innocence was delightful. To be honest, he had always been glad to see the maiden interact with children in general. Not because of the illusions in his sleep how her younger self might be, but for the joy the Au Ra felt when she cared for them.
Recalling her happiness made a stronger, yet sad smile flit over his mien. He remembered to have adored new beings of all kinds long before mortals betrayed his species... Meeting Cecilia back then would have changed so much... If she would just have been born a few centuries earlier...
They reached Fortemps' manor as the snow fell stronger from the sky.
"We will head home now." ,the children's father stated, "Hopefully Lady Cecilia will recover soon." "But Papa, can't we see if the employers will really take good care of Ceci?" the boy asked worried. His mother shook instantly her head: "Don't be ridiculous! We cannot waltz into a royal building without allowance. The guards would throw us out." Scratching his nose, the father added: "Although we know the brave Haurchefant here very well, there's no need to over-strain our rights. It isn't necessary to risk our knight's good reputation for a bagatelle."
Mentioned gentleman coughed a little, before he gave his best to interfere: "Let me try to convince my father before you give immediately up. At least for the children, I'm sure the Count wouldn't mind a short moment of their presence even without a matching status of your family."
Smiling gloomily, the parents looked down to the ground. "We are just mere citizens. Thanks to Halone's blessing we weren't born into the poorest families, but still there exists nothing which justifies our visit. Other, than the Warriors of Light, we have never hold a weapon in our hands or helped Coerthas out in another important way. With that, our children must understand which rights they have and which not." the man said full of devotion.
The couple led the children away, who were helplessly staring at their cherished Raen-heroine while they still had to move forward. "Take care of her, please!" the girl called desperate; gazing directly at Midgardsormr as if she could feel how much he was connected to the maiden. Unintended sorrow glided over his facial expression; he nodded guilty in the last moment the child glanced at him.
How idiotic it was to experience pity... As an ancient creature who should see her as an ordinary ant underneath his talons... But he couldn't help it. Imagining he would be separated from Cecilia just like this made his heart ache, so the child's pain appeared familiar to him.
~C~
Haurchefant meanwhile sighed frustrated as he opened the manor's door.
"That's because they were treated ill by the Dzemael. A few years ago, a member of the poor family was accused of stepping over his rightful frontier. Or should I say, of thievery?" Letting Cid and Erik walk into the entrance-hall, the Elezen continued: "When the father's brother worked as a cook for Count Dzemael, one evening he dared to keep the dinner's leftovers for himself instead of tossing them away as they were so many. Above this, the employer brought mentioned food home – of course his family ate everything up."
"And somebody didn't like that." Cid guessed while Midgardsormr stepped with hesitant motions into the building. "Of course not." ,the Elezen replied, "Some knights were against this action, because they thought it wasn't the cook's right to take any of the meals. Not to forget, how 'egoistic' he was to give it to simple citizens. Unimportant they were his family. With lots of overreacting, these swordsmen urged the Count to punish the 'thief'. And even though the servant was only fired, everything changed. The family no longer dares to seek contact with those living in royal houses. Hadn't I been friends with them already, I wouldn't be the only exception."
Walking behind the others, Midgardsormr gulped nervously to hear this. With that humanely shape, the tiniest mistake could also turn him into the victim of mortal's twisted morale. Surely he knew Count Fortemps was a fair man, but in case the lord wouldn't give him shelter in Ishgard... Probably, it was better to leave the Holy City as soon as possible. The thought alone let his heart clench painfully, but as long as the maiden was safe, nothing else mattered.
It wasn't Edmont alone who waited for the group's return.
Apart from the other Warriors, of course Alphinaud and Tataru were there.
But also – to Midgardsormr's wonderment – crabber Estinien and Sir Aymeric stood in the large, luxurious reception-chamber. While the Azure Dragoon was famous for normally avoiding aristocratic associations, the Lord Commander of the Temple-knights was well-known for acting uncomfortable around the Raen; around her species in general. Yet, both were here...
All seemed horrified to see the unconscious Au Ra, but Alphinaud alone could let go of the shock. Or rather, he was the one who jumped headfirst into open desperation. Walking quick as a flash to the stretcher's right side, his words bubbled eagerly out of his mouth: "How much is she injured?! Will she recover or won't all damage heal?! Please tell me! I must know it...!" Many tears appeared in the dark Sapphire-eyes; the voice almost not able to finish his plea.
Surprisingly, it was the Azure Knight who held the teenager back before he could uncontrollably grab Cid's jacket. As if Alphinaud weighed nothing, a single hand in his collar sufficed to stop him. "Stay calm!" ,Estinien ordered with a muted, yet harsh sound alias snarl, "Let them at first carry her to the guest-room. Then, there's enough time for talking."
Erik nodded and added: "Haurchefant, you can explain the situation. Cid and I are right back after we put her into bed." A female doctor who stood unnoticeable in the right corner stepped forward: "If the gentlemen would follow me, please. I will show you the way. And check her condition."
Midgardsormr stayed by Haurchefant's side as the later explained everything.
Although he would have preferred going with the other two, he knew it wasn't his right.
Still... He yearned for being in Cecilia's near... Also, his mental reserves were at their limits – he had experienced today already too much direct contact with mortals. Their eyes on him were unsettling; their silent question who he might be stung into his brain. When Haurchefant finally explicated, that the unobtrusive adventurer next to him had saved Cecilia's life, fullest attention of all these mortals was nearly choking the Methuselah to death.
"I didn't allow you to embarrass Midge. Nor you all to stare at him." Erik's earnest reproof saved the over-strained dragon. As the Marauder and Cid came back into the room, Count Edmont apologized politely: "I am sorry for making your friend feel uncomfortable. It was not our intention to do anything inappropriate. But he seems very devastated – and his mind is obviously distracted. As if he was more concerned about your personal sister than even yourself are."
Midgardsormr wished to defend the Warrior's leader, but was unable to do so. He couldn't handle this mortal existence he was caged into with so many people around him. Erik knew this, obviously, and decided for an offensive way of dealing with the trouble.
"Of course Ceci's and my friend is concerned! Who wouldn't in his situation?" ,the Hyur continued the specific lie, "He was head over heels yesterday and is just one day later forced to fear she might never wake up again! Could you try to imagine how hard it was for this shy soul to tell my sister, that he had fallen in love with her?"
Erik's comrades made big eyes. Even the quiet Blackmage looked like a surprised puppy. And while the three more or less noble Elezen of Ishgard as well as the young scholar demonstrated irritation, Tataru beamed like the sun: "Ceci has now a boyfriend? Really?! Oh, that's wonderful! Grandiose! If Minfilia was with us, she would be so happy to hear this! You must tell us more!"
Nodding, the Warrior emphasized the faked situation: "We had befriended Midge a long while ago due to his preferences as adventurer – and us bumping quite often into him. Luckily he wasn't misinterpreting these encounters as stalking... Well, got to spend lots of time when we weren't yet thorns in Lolorito's eyes. Maybe you remember all these gathering-trips she and me undertook. Back then, it was very exhausting to behold Ceci's and Midge's interactions as he grew fond of her. I tell you: He's a fraidy-cat when he has to confess something."
Tammy's tail became puffy: "Hey, no kitty-jokes allowed! Besides, why 'exhausting'? It's romantic when a man doesn't go bluntly to a woman and asks her to be his date." "Yes, it's very sweet when someone thinks about how to ask the question. Men shouldn't be so rude all the time." Annika said and glanced angered at Carlos. The later ignored her complaint. "I fear we come from completely different planets." distinct disappointment escaped Bertram's mouth.
A slight grin appeared in Erik's mien: "Probably this 'sweetness' is why she accepted him yesterday to be her property when he finally came out of his shell... Whatever, it's mere chance I'm the first who was honored to know about them. Ceci had wanted to spread the news when we would return this evening." "And just when everything seems to be fine, fate must be cruel and send of all things heretics to destroy their joy. That's truly a misery." the Count noticed sympathetic.
Right on cue, the brows of the gruff Marauder went up.
"I hope this means Ishgard won't kick him out." "Of course not, Erik!" ,Edmont responded quickly, "Your friend alias Cecilia's partner enjoys the same rights as you all do. I will officially make him another protégé of mine." "That's great!" Tammy and Annika chirped happily, while the others smiled good-humored about the Count's decision.
The mortals seemed – without doubt – to be convinced of 'Midge' being Cecilia's boyfriend...
Pleased by the outcome, Erik gaped at the disguised dragon. Albeit the later was indeed grateful for this morale-support, it was hardly brightening his mood. He was paralyzed by all the emotions flowing through him – plus the helplessness to be incapable of acting like a normal human. Furthermore, with the three curious females approaching him, the stress became unbearable.
Panic whirling wildly, Midgardsormr was on the verge of passing out.
"Count, we must ask a question." the thoughtful Blackmage said.
Unknowingly saving the Methuselah, Carlos distracted the women by the hint of a specific problem. Annika turned her attention immediately to Edmont: "That is correct... My Lord, may it be alright when we occupy one of your guestrooms for a longer while? We might have asked for today, but..." "...as you learned right before, my sister will perhaps not recover as fast as her body. In worst case, recreation could take forever. Thus, I need to personally beg you for sanctuary, even if we do expect too much from our benefactor." the Marauder finished.
Folding their hands, Tammy and Tataru stared with puppy-eyes at Lord Fortemps.
Everybody else gazed also at him. Expectation written on their faces, but a negative one.
Crestfallen, the Count examined his guests: "Your question is unbelievable... Tell me, how bad do the other city-states treat adventurers, that you fear I would deny you such a little favor? Have they ever let you down, that you expect me to say 'No.'...? I can't allow you to bring Cecilia to a place with less comfort while her health even prevents her awakening! If you had wanted to bring her to your beloved tavern, to be more clear, I would have insisted on her stay at my home!"
The little outburst was quite irritating, but the mortals reacted fast with relief.
Midgardsormr had trouble to handle such an odd 'Yes.', on the other hand...
Another important resident shared this opinion. Aymeric explained: "Indeed, we cannot allow that one of Ishgard's heroes rests in cold rooms under thin blankets. There's not much we can do in order to change the city's ways in a larger extent, but at least we can help our friends when they need us. In case the Count would have refused, we Temple Knights had granted her shelter."
Looking at each other, Erik and Carlos seemed to be undecided what to think of these words. Estinien, however, demonstrated a sharp tongue as always: "Your respect for her is a bit suspicious. Are you sure to care for the situation not because you're afraid of Cec?" Shoulders visibly stiffening under the armor-plates, the Lord Commander answered: "I... admit her scales do unsettle me, yes... But Lady Cecilia is just like our other heroes a bright view to behold."
This didn't convince the Azure Knight, whose arms folded in clear disbelief.
"If all adventurers are like her willing to shield foreign nations without obtaining any benefits..." ,Aymeric said hastily, "...we must open our city as well as hearts for them! No matter, which species they may belong to. Also, Haurchefant told me every single story of her selfless actions in Coerthas. I can't be afraid of somebody who shows so much unconditional devotion and love for others. Rather, I don't know how to handle the admiration she causes me to feel."
"I... know the feeling just too well..."
Everybody except for Erik stared surprised at Midgardsormr.
The dreamy smile on his lips died down while he noticed that he had spoken the very first words next to all these mortals. His heartbeat became too fast, while so many eyes studied him perplexed. It was a relief when the fatherly Roegadyn started laughing: "Buahaha, oh man, just look at him! Dang, Erik, your friend turns red like a cherry! Aymeric's speech must really have carried him away, when he could overcome his shyness briefly." Coming to the dragon and patting his shoulder gently, Bertram continued: "Don't worry, buddy. We're nicer than our boss, so if you get along with him, you're surely soon warming up to the rest of us. Don't stress yourself meanwhile."
Letting a Paladin touch him was similar to taking bitter medicine...
But he got quickly distracted: The female doctor from before appeared in the room.
With a discreet pitch in the voice, this Hyur said: "I overlooked Mademoiselle Shirone's injuries and renewed the care my colleague had given her. If you please, you can visit her for a short moment. Yet, she needs still lots of rest and quiet."
When she wanted to leave, Aymeric called hastily: "Wait one minute, please." With raised brows, the woman asked: "Yes, Lord Commander?" Looking for a moment at 'Midge', the Elezen cleared his throat and explained: "This gentleman is the Lady's legitimate partner. Does her state of health at least allow his presence whenever he wants to be in her near? I am sure he wouldn't disturb her while she still has to recover." Skeptical, the doctor eyeballed the disguised dragon. "If he doesn't make any noise, I do not forbid his unconditional attendance. But he must behave well or otherwise I will strip him of the visiting-rights."
Dear doctor's antipathy didn't only cause 'Midge' to jerk. It also provoked his 'comrades' or rather self-proclaimed 'friends'. "Of course he will act quietly in her near!" the Fortemps-knight protested. Cid added nonchalant: "He doesn't even seem like a talkative guy, Miss. It's pointless to strengthen the pressure on his shoulders. If anything, we cause trouble in your eyes before he would."
"This bundle of worry looks like he wouldn't even dare to breath if it was a nuisance in our eyes." ,the Azure Knight noticed, "He's probably afraid of every possible misstep." Midgardsormr jerked as these harsh words fell down. Such unabashed, correct analysis... Unnatural for blunted fighters... Only a short look into the Dragoon's grey-blue irises was enough to make him instantly avoid further eye-contact. This blue metal frightened him – due to his helplessness in this body. After all... Estinien would surely destroy him in case he could see through the disguise...
"Please excuse him, Midge." ,Aymeric said with a stern side-glance at his old friend, "I suppose, that our mightiest knight loses his little manners completely when something makes him worried." The Azure Dragoon wanted to remonstrate, but the words didn't leave his opened mouth. Grumbling, Estinien crossed the arms and looked away. The Lord Commander, on the other hand, came to Midgardsormr's side and suggested: "Let's go to your partner. I promise we others will just stay for a short moment, so you may not fear the doctor's ban."
Aymeric bestowed a friendly smile upon the disguised Methuselah.
Studying the tender facial features, the dragon understood why Erik had seemingly been close to that Elezen in his former world... He was an open book. A noble man with formidable manners plus a gentle heart; somebody who truly had earned his status in mortal's hierarchy in Ishgard. Although... There was something overshadowing this good man.
His familiar background made the Commander's life obviously more troublesome than even Haurchefant's roots could ever do. A while ago, Midgardsormr had at least heard from the Warriors, that Aymeric suffered under being the unofficial son of Archbishop alias Pope Thordan...
"Can I show you the way?" the dark-haired knight asked politely.
The ancient being looked doubtfully into these eyes which had even a stronger color than the blue of Haurchefant's irises. With an anxious, yet decided feeling in his chest the Methuselah nodded. Forcing himself to vocalize what he needed deep down: "Please bring me to her..."
The Elezen smiled knowingly: "Of course-" "Hey Aymeric, should not I be the one who asks him such question? It's still my father's house." Haurchefant complained rather half-hearted. At first, both swordsmen raised skeptical their brows – just in order to chuckle a little. In the next second, they broke out laughing; demonstrating amused their long-lasting friendship.
Afterwards, the elves decided to lead 'Midge' and the others together.
~C~
So much attention... Too much attention...
Following both knights into the corridor, his nerves were rebelling...
Midgardsormr didn't like it how everyone wanted him to walk in front of them. To not leave their field of vision. Like a wild animal in bright spotlight. Thus, he struggled to go more or less ahead... If it had been his choice, he would prefer to be the last one – just as Estinien. But Haurchefant plus Aymeric gave him open patience, so he pushed himself to match their humanely expectations. Walking almost between both, he made sure to keep up with their steps.
Since he was busy with focusing on his impression in the mortal's eyes, he hardly payed tribute to the luxurious mansion. But while muted, female 'Aahs' and 'Oohs' behind him spoke about Tammy's and Tataru's fascination for some paintings on the walls, the dragon knew even fullest concentration would rather not change anything... He was blind for any art as long as his heart was suffocating...
After a short while both Lord Commander and knight stopped abruptly.
"Here... This is the room." the Fortemps-son said, while Aymeric gently paused 'Midge's' movement via a hand on his left shoulder. Apart from the unwanted contact, it was mortifying, that a human had to prevent him from reflexive-proceeding. But Haurchefant opened already the door, wherefore discontent about the moment had to wait. "I had really hoped she would accept father's offering, because this guestroom would have surely appealed to her." the man explained meekly with a smile. Then, he signaled with a slight bow that 'Midge' should enter first.
Hesitantly, the disguised dragon stepped into the room.
Cecilia slept in a large bed on the left side, which stood rather close to the door's opposing wall.
Her bedding was wine-red; the furniture's wood ebony. Next to this sleeping-berth, a small desk with some books plus a flower-vase stood in the corner. Beside that diminutive shelf had a wide, dark-red armchair been placed, so a person sitting in it would have the window in his alias her back in favor of looking at the king-size mattress.
The chimney on the right side kept the chamber warm; no miracle due to the luxurious architecture. In fact, all cupboards full with a variation of literature as well as the wardrobe and the round table within this room looked expensive. But Midgardsormr knew he cared for them only because he was so aware of the maiden's preferences. How she cherished every good text-selection and thought that big desks were practical for her various handcrafts.
Thinking about his precious being was too much. He could barely control the pull any longer...
In the warm shine of several porcelain-lamps along the walls, the Methuselah approached the large bed soundless. He stopped next to her face; eyeballed every single detail in order to tell, if at least her body was fine. While the majority of mortals came also closer, their presence unsettled him noticeable less than before, as Midgardsormr was too relieved about the returned color of her lips. The rosy petals reflected the light in their usual manner.
Even though... her skin was yet a bit pale. Not anymore like a corpse, but definitely not yet okay. For the specific Au Ra feature... He wished to touch her scales. Only by looking at them, he wasn't able to tell for sure, if they were again smooth and stable. But he didn't have the courage to do it. Touching the maiden in any way seemed impossible as long as all these humans were here...
He could also not dive into his desperation under so many eyes...
Alphinaud dared to come to Midgardsormr's right side.
Since the boy was so focused on Cecilia, he surely didn't notice the tiny red glow coming from 'Midge's' irises. For a short moment, the dragon glanced angered at the teenager, before he realized how inappropriate this reaction was. Even if this young Elezen was a foolish mortal as well as in some way a rival, he showed always suavity and consideration towards others. Rebuking himself, the Methuselah answered when Alphinaud looked up to him. Concern dwelled in the dark-blue eyes which recognized Midgardsormr as just another human. Within them, there wasn't this positive, distinct wonderment the boy had given the puppet. Yet, something else could be found now.
"I am so glad you were there to save her. Thank you..." the young Elezen whispered.
Irritated, Midgardsormr watched as this child bowed deeply down. What an over-exaggerated, nonsensical gesture... Thanks to his clear displeasure, 'Midge' obviously confused Alphinaud when the later returned to a more comfortable position. Nervously, the boy asked: "Did I offend you?" Brows furrowed, the ancient being beheld a far too sensitive reaction of the teenager: Several drops alongside the narrowed lids which tried to hide the Sapphire-irises.
"Sentimental kid..." the sharp-tongued Dragoon commented from the room's entrance, where he leaned against the door. Count Edmont next to him gave the Elezen a warning glance; Aymeric, Haurchefant and Cid shook their heads. The Warriors – except for Carlos who harrumphed – ignored the statement and rather gazed curious at Midgardsormr.
Cheering a mortal up wasn't the Methuselah's strength. He had even failed a few times when it was for the precious maiden. But however, he should do now something in order to not act suspicious. As good as possible, he tried to mimic Cecilia's gentle behavior towards the boy: "No need to worry about me. Considering myself, everything is fine. I am just struggling with her state of health. Never before was she injured in such a life-threatening way while I was spending time with her... It's still unbelievable to imagine she will not wake up soon."
He forced himself to smile a little for calming Alphinaud's anxiety better.
The boy answered the gesture, albeit for a short moment he pushed the present drops out of his eye. Meanwhile, Bertram patted once more Midgardsormr's shoulder. "I see why Ceci likes you. Comforting others is a talent you two have in common." "Only difference is your shyness. But I bet we can do something about it." a smirking Tammy added next to the Roegadyn.
The other adventurers including Tataru and Cid were also close to him, but somehow it felt natural. As long as the dragon could see his cherished girl, her friends were the lesser evil in this mansion. Erik seemed to grasp him, because the Marauder said into his mind: 'Sooner or later it will be better. Even without a chosen one in your near, it'll be easier. Having people around yourself won't be stressful forever. You may differ in case of your shape, but... otherwise you're like my old geezer. He got used to all of them – and so will you.'
Midgardsormr gaped at the Hyur.
Just as everybody else, Erik was busy with watching the maiden. Therefore, the Methuselah allowed these telepathic words have their effect on him. Albeit he was only grudgingly accepting the Warrior's care, somehow it was no longer something to detest.
Rather, it was a sad circumstance. Sentimental matter...
Almost longingly, he studied the man who had been the chosen mortal of another Midgardsormr. There existed once a reason for preferring this Hyur over all the other humans... A good reason... But it couldn't be helped... When Midgardsormr looked again straight ahead, the bare view of Cecilia's face was enough to convince him, that she was the one who he sought to protect.
"Don't overdo it." ,Estinien admonished the adventurers, "If you stay for too long, the doctor won't appreciate it. Say all goodbye to Cec and then we leave." While the majority of mortals just did as the Azure Knight had recommended, Carlos grumbled: "Since when is this nuisance of a cousin caring for any manners? Don't tell me, that you really want to help Midge with sticking to the terms. You aren't so selfless." The Blackmage waltzed in a threatening way to the disdainful Dragoon. Watching them, Annika whispered: "Oh-oh... This again..."
"It's unimportant if I care for him or not." ,the Azure Knight replied snippy, "As long as Cec needs from time to time any medical treatment, none of you should mess around with Ishgard's doctors. She is no ordinary casualty who you could cure by yourself with a finger-snip." The Lalafell-healer inhaled the air in order to protest, but Carlos was faster: "As if you bigmouth are even able to cast the tiniest spell. Your talent for magic is just as bright as my black hair."
Passing his grand-cousin, the Blackmage seemed to be self-satisfied.
"You mean: Just as bright as your talent for the lance." abruptly the Dragoon stated poisonous. Carlos turned grumbling around and glared enraged at the full-armored Elezen. The later responded with the same expression, that was despite the helmet on his head noticeable. They were both angry. "Dare to say that again." the Blackmage hissed unfriendly. "Sure. Just as bright as-"
"Could you two please stop this?" Aymeric asked crestfallen; interrupting both relatives. Haurchefant nodded: "If you really want to argue, do that outdoors on the street." "How about that? I'll bring them to the Vanu. Maybe Bismarck can cool their heads a little bit off. And I bet the whale loves tasty company to bits." Cid added with a wolfish grin.
Count Fortemps sighed: "Let's all just leave Midge alone, so that he has no need to be worried..." The Warriors, two scions and the engineer nodded, while the Lord Commander and Edmont's son were already stepping out of the chamber. Erik, though, was the only adventurer who didn't instantly follow the advice afterwards. He paused his foot right in the moment he lifted it up. Additional, he strained the jaw visibly as his eyes searched for 'Midge'. "I'm later checking on you. So don't think I let you down." the Hyur emphasized with a serious expression.
"Wow, do you want to cheer him up or to scare him to death?" Tammy asked arms akimbo plus head-shaking while the mortals waited in the corridor for their odd leader. Erik rolled his eyes: "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, sun-worshiper."
The Marauder slightly rubbed 'Midge's' shoulder before catching up with the others; a distinct worry in the hard steel-eyes when he looked one last time at the camouflaged dragon.
~C~
The door closed without any sound.
Shivering, Midgardsormr inhaled following the warm air deeply.
He wasn't good at this... He was miserable in interacting with humans. And to think, that a doctor had to care now and then for the maiden's condition, made things surely not easier in any aspect... Nervousness emerged just by mere imagining... But well... At least for now...
His fingertips sought cautiously for the scales on Cecilia's neck.
Closing the lids, the Methuselah was unspeakable calmed to feel their usual softness and flexibility. Even with so much guilt and panic swirling within his consciousness, this little sign of life was taking a burden from the stiff shoulders.
His lungs let the breath escape for a long moment; his head tilted a bit backwards due to his relief. There was more than just her recovering scales... Meaningful... She was developing again warmth... Her own warmth... This specific heat he had grown to adore with every cell of his former, vulnerable disguise which had sought her near countless times.
Looking fondly at the sleeping beauty, he wondered, if his new shape would ever be able to stand the cold. After all, it was just some shell formed like a Hyur. No comparison to this generous Au Ra. He doubted, that his current vessel – made by Hydaelyn in her weakest state – would ever be able to face obstacles like Cecilia did. Especially thanks to his handicap. As long as he was just minimal controlling this shape, his clumsiness was troublesome...
Sighing, he stepped away from the bed. He could hear steps echoing through the corridor. Thus, Midgardsormr sat down onto one of the wooden chairs around the desk. His intuition told him, that standing in the way should better be avoided...
In the very next moment, the doctor entered the chamber.
She payed not much attention to the dragon, though. Her eyes examined him for several seconds, yet her interest switched fast to her current 'fosterling'. The physician checked the maiden's pulse and administered a pill; changed carefully the patient's position on the mattress for preventing pressure-marks and let a bit healing energy flow through Cecilia's corpus.
When everything seemed to be done, the doctor walked to the exit.
But before her hand pressed the knob down: "You can take a seat in the armchair next to the bed. It's okay when you're close to your girlfriend. My work isn't affected by this." "I thank thee..." Midgardsormr responded irritated. "No need for this." ,the Hyur replied down-to-earth, "I just do, what I have to. It's so: Even, when they are unconscious, it is proven that patients recover better when their loved ones are present. Albeit nobody can tell for now, if Mademoiselle Shirone will ever wake up again, it is still not absurd to rely on this old fact."
Listening to these words made his heart gain speed.
Trying to control an impulsive quake which ran down his spine, the Methuselah asked: "Is there... truly no possibility to tell, how intense the inner injuries were for her system...? For her... mind...?" The doctor stepped purposeful out of the room, but nevertheless answered: "The aftereffects can hardly be debated by now. It needs time for her corpus to recreate, yet the damage on her brain could even take eternities. That is, of course, IF they will heal. We can't get Mademoiselle Shirone out of the coma no matter how good our medical knowledge is."
With that, the woman let him alone.
If he wouldn't have been sitting on a chair already, his legs would have caved in this second.
It was irrelevant, that he already knew... Whenever someone mentioned the word 'coma', the feeling was as if a large abyss opened right under the Methuselah's feet – ready to let him fall. To let him tumble into a darkness far beyond his horizon. His mental instability was pulling at his very core...
Despite shaking stilts, he stood up and went to mentioned dark-red armchair.
His eyes were focusing on the maiden, while he sank into the bolster. Apart from his militant panic, doubt was gripping into his mind... Probably, the maiden didn't need anybody in her near to recover – in the unlikely case her fate meant survival. But he was not such stubborn creature who believed without skepticism into a self-chosen path. He wore an old stigma deep down in his heart. A scar... that spoke of his helplessness to honestly trust any other humane being than her.
If Cecilia wouldn't be in his near...
Whimpering, he knew that it was most likely for him to run amok. She alone kept his anxiety and sightless wrath in check. Because he had placed more hope into her than he had even realized. Losing the maiden would mean to lose his last purpose in this world, so he would irrationally fight against acknowledging her death. Pure egoism, probably, but with all misdeeds in Eorzea as well as the tragic history of his family, a walking corpse like him possessed no reason to stay faithful without a real incentive... Without such a thing, he would probably join his raging son...
Leaning backwards, Midgardsormr rubbed through his wet, burning eyes.
It couldn't be helped... There was nothing he could do for her.
Nothing but staying by her side and praying...
~C~
The last sun-rays were gone.
With a blurry vision, he moved his neck a little.
All the time 'Midge' hardly dared to do anything... Apart from breathing and batting his eyelashes, the dragon sat mostly as motionless as a statue. His vessel, though, protested via aching muscles and an ill feeling in its stomach. But he wouldn't give in...
The Methuselah refused to abandon this position. Did not intend to do anything which would take his concentration away from the precious maiden. It was his duty to be here... On a personal level, he owed her the loyalty – since he was taking advantage of the maiden since second zero... Perhaps, rather indeed he hadn't willingly woken up from his deadly slumber when she came to him, but... She had been his excuse to see the current state of Eorzea's situation.
Cecilia didn't need him, but he – all the more – was in her debt.
"Your dejectedness is screaming to the sky..." a harsh voice stated suddenly from the other side of the room's door. Midgardsormr winced appalled when Erik stepped uninvited into the chamber. "Thou hast no manners..." the dragon grumbled after he had recovered from the negative surprise. The Warrior's leader shrugged and replied: "I told you that I'm later coming back. Forgetful gramps. Now is a good time for visiting, don't you think?"
Walking to the mattress, Erik placed gently a hand on Cecilia's head.
The steel didn't look away from her when the Hyur mumbled: "Just to assure you, good grandsire... I am not nonstop reading your mind. That I can recognize your negative thoughts is only because your other version was so close to me." Moving his aching shoulders slowly in little circles, Midgardsormr wasn't convinced: "How am I supposed to tell this... In this shape, I do suffer under several problems. Like a lesser scenting ability, for example... enervated vision... My faith into natural abilities- simply into everything is smaller than ever before..."
Snorting, Erik shook his head a few times.
"Man, you really are a stupid geezer... That my sweet sister here holds you so dear would sound like a bad joke if I didn't know it any better. With her by your side, you make A LOT more progress than my Midgard ever did, but what do you do...? You are still complaining. Have still the nerve to search for excuses to distrust people..." the gruff man complained.
Looking directly at the bristling ancient being, he continued: "I understand it. Your mind is restless. The whole situation is over-straining for you. I comprehend that all these different impulses of both body and brain must be tearing at your sanity. You pull yourself together, yet the whole pressure is nevertheless breaking you apart."
Inhaling, the brunette man added: "But...! Midgard, you are now a human. No doubt. And as such, you have to eat sometimes a little bit to stay healthy. I don't care, if you refuse. For Ceci, at least, take care of your digestive-tract!"
The Methuselah furrowed the brows. "What has eating to do with that?" he wondered confused. Harrumphing, Erik hit his forehead with the left palm and grumbled. "I'd cut you with my axe if you would stay currently in your real shape, gramps... We 'awful mortal beings' are no big dragons who can starve for many days without any disadvantages. So, in case that you feel like vomiting: Bravo, it's because of your empty stomach."
Midgardsormr narrowed the lids with a low growl in his throat as Erik walked to the armchair. Unfortunately, the Hyur didn't flinch: "It's odd that you still own draconic features... Pay attention, that none of the knights notices. They'll surely turn you into shashlyk. … Now stop this bollocks. Stand up and come with me. I make you something to eat."
Gaping at the maiden, the father of dragon-kind hesitated. But it didn't look like he had a choice. "Come on, grandpa." ,the Marauder pulled him per force onto his feet, "The earlier you cooperate, the earlier you're back. And it's not only for your stomach, that I insist on this 'annoying nonsense'. You'll see, what I mean."
~C~
Begrudgingly he followed the mannerless Warrior.
Four guards stood in the entrance-hall; they nodded knowingly and saluted.
Leaving the villa, Erik led Midgardsormr down to the Foundation. Not passing any other mortals on their way, the evening was lonely and cold. Being unseen by humans should have a calming effect, but it hadn't. In fact, the dragon caged in a mortal shell felt oddly weak compared to before...
Was it normal for mortal bodies to lose easily strength...? None of his shapes prior to this had ever experienced such trouble in case they needed any nutriment. Not his vulnerable, puppet-like vessel; not his young self before his children even existed; at the most not his fully grown corpus...
Snow fell in Ishgard's usual pace from the black sky. With that, the scenery resembled a little an abandoned ruin. It was a pity to think, that there were homeless on the streets... Men, who would give their last money or food in order to have for the night a shabby room...
Pushing the thought away, the Methuselah went right after Erik into the guesthouse.
"Anything special you want for dinner? I don't accept 'No.' as an answer, to clarify this." the Hyur urged him to reply. Gazing at the ground in order to avoid the expectant irises, Midgardsormr answered unmotivated: "Maybe a fish would be nice... Something that... Cecilia would like..." Argh... Uttering her name hurt a bit in his chest...
Shrugging, the gruff man thought loudly: "I hoped to cook something challenging. At least a classic. It's so long ago that I made cutlets solely for you... But well, fine by me. Just afore a short stop in my guestroom before we go into the kitchen. There's something I want to give you." The dragon was clueless, what Erik had in mind, but in all likelihood it was a nasty issue... As uncomfortable as the company of this awful mortal...
On the way to Erik's digs, they passed in the corridor a mirror.
At first Midgardsormr lowered his gaze; determined to avoid the object.
But then... A single impulsive changed this. So the Methuselah looked hesitantly up. Unwittingly, his eyes widened as they saw a proof for his assumption. This vessel was indeed young – perhaps not much older than the maiden. While its hands as well as missing wrinkles on the face's structure had already been suspicious, the rest of the visible flesh owned indeed a hue plus optic akin to Cecilia's youthful physique. The rather short, tousled hair growing on the Hyur-corpus strengthened the impression of rosy skin-color. It was an opposite scheme; dark-green with highlights. Like hues of several areas in the Black Shroud which let everything reddish shine brighter.
Despite the sympathetic appearance...
The ancient being couldn't bring himself to liking his mortal cage. Everything about this humanely, unimpressive disguise was foreign to him. Of course except for its injuries, which had already been his own and were carried over, and additionally... well... these irises... Just as his doll-form before, this corpus possessed dim eyes in red color.
"Unhappy with your look?" the smirking Marauder mocked him when the Methuselah turned away from the mirror. A tired, frustrated glance was the only answer which Midgardsormr was willing to give the Hyur. Erik, however, demonstrated once more keen talkativeness considering the dragon: "I remember the phrase 'handsome' when that family's mother spoke about you. So, it seems a bit over-exaggerated to sulk now. And – not to offend you – but an old geezer like you wouldn't fit under other circumstances into our group, don't you think?"
Pah... As if he had 'planned' to join the adventurers...
~C~
They reached Erik's digs.
When the Warrior's leader opened the door, a familiar stench hit Midgardsormr's nose.
Frowning, he glanced at the Marauder. How could that man live in a chamber that stunk like booze? On the second thought, it was in fact only the wood which was drenched with the bad odor. Stepping into the chamber made that more clear. Although it was surprising, that the whole room was more or less cleaned... Somehow, 'Midge' had expected bottles laying all over the ground, since Cecilia's 'brother' seemed not like the type who cared for a room's mess.
Looking around, there was yet something which matched a characteristic cliché.
There leaned a few different axes against a free wall. Swords. Shields. Bows. Even lances.
For adventurers, it was common to own a collection of weapons. Not only if the humans were good in using them, but also just in case for possible future need. Such as a changed personal preference. Or an enemy that would be better faced with another type than the current exemplar.
While he wondered about the variety of tools, the Warrior crossed meanwhile through the room. Aforesaid one seemed amused by Midgardsormr's wonderment... Tsk. Some truly disdainful mortal. Of course all of them hardly knew their place, but this one was by far the most ill-bred of their kind who had ever provoked the Methuselah's attention.
Erik opened a wardrobe. Pulling one of the drawers out, he explained: "Here... You can have them. Don't worry, I never wore any of these. They are unworn. I... Well, I think I never deserved them. And you should own definitely more than just an old cloak and a pair of Maple Pattens." Slightly, he grinned when he mentioned the sparsely items Midgardsormr possessed.
But the mischievous joy didn't last. When he carried a few clothes over to the bed, it looked as if... the mortal was holding treasures in his hands which made him reverential. He placed them carefully onto the mattress; handled the pieces of fabric like something breakable... Midgardsormr tried to comprehend possible motives for that, but couldn't see anything which justified the wariness.
"Have you tried crying? Let some emotions out?" Erik asked suddenly.
Irritated, the Methuselah studied the Marauder. A sad smile flitted over the later's lips: "Never mind. I should let you alone while you change clothes. There are some potatoes I have to peel." Resigned, the dragon caged in a mortal vessel watched as Erik left the room.
Shyness was nothing he would impute to that man, hence the sudden escape seemed out of place. But he wasn't good in following Erik's train of thoughts. Just because the Hyur could easily look into the dragon-fathers head didn't mean this worked also vice versa.
Midgardsormr furrowed his brows in depression.
While he doffed the cloak, the strange questions Erik had asked before echoed through his mind. For which reason should he weep? He had done so while he assumed, that everything was over... But with Hydaelyn's approval of his wish, there was no need for crying. And letting emotions out? Of course he wanted to indulge in his deep sorrow and aboil guilt... But for what should he release these sentiments in any audible way?
He placed the shoes properly onto the ground; being entirely bared apart from the bandage placed around his chest. This tight object... He gave the white fabric a tug – it was an annoying thing. Albeit he understood the necessity of treating mortal injuries correctly, the Methuselah became ironically impatient when he imagined how long it might take to get rid of this confining item... Dragons weren't made for enduring such man-made healing-processes. HE wasn't made for this...
'Wrong... I have to adapt my way of thinking... I am now a mortal, too...'
This realization still hurt his ancient pride.
Sighing, he took one of the clothes – a dark-brown undershirt – and put it on. When the fabric glided over his facial skin, Midgardsormr inhaled casually. Urgh... It owned a fusty, moldy smell; surely due to the long stay in Erik's wardrobe. But... There was also something clinging to the cloth which wouldn't leave his mind at rest... An aroma he found familiar...
In the moment his head poked almost out – when his nose ran along the neck-line... The scent was here a bit stronger. Clear enough, that the restricted humane nose could completely decode it... … His eyes became big while the vessel's face emerged. This shirt... This plain object without flaws... HER scent was tied to it... The item had been weaved by the precious Au Ra.
Midgardsormr petrified. Shivered. His vision started drowning. Tears began to flow over his face. The long stilts caved under his weight, wherefore his trembling torso landed on the mattress. Squinting the eyes, the dragon clawed with both hands into the fabric – realizing, that all clothes which Erik was willing to cede to him must have been created by the maiden. Cecilia...
'I can't live permanently as a mortal. I can't! Not without you...!'
He sobbed desperate. Begged silently for her recovery.
Cried an ocean because his heart fell apart...
~C~
Walking with some sniffs through the corridor, he felt strange-to-say better.
Perhaps that oddity was, what the gruff Hyur had tried to tell him... It was for humans a relief to cry. This – and warm, handmade clothes. Something that kept his fragile body-temperature more stable than a single cloak would do. Casual, he lifted his arm. The sleeve. With it, he wiped his cheeks dry. Breathing simultaneously in, the whole outfit he wore now calmed his restless thoughts because of those discreet remnants... Cecilia's peach-scent... As if she was indirectly with him.
He knew she had made them for her 'brother', but nevertheless he felt the love she had weaved into the clothes. It was just as the story Estinien had told him about that stuffed bear... Every emotion, which she put into her creations, resonated forever within the objects...
Sneaking around the corner, he sighed slightly.
Ostensible, none of the other mortals was present... A blessing. Of course this thought was mean... But getting used to humane contacts was easier when he started that in a humble rhythm. To jump for the whole day headfirst into cold water had been exhausting... So, Cecilia's self-chosen brother might be a nuisance, but as he knew 'Midge's' secret, he was nevertheless the best choice to develop some trust for. Or at least... something of that kind. Favor, maybe.
Unsure, Midgardsormr stepped into the kitchen.
To his relief, there was actually just the gruff man. Although... Wearing Cecilia's craftsmanship under Erik's curious glance felt strange... As if he would commit in some way a crime... Thievery... since he wasn't who was meant to own them... However, the odd Midlander didn't comment verbal on the clothes. Erik was too busy with cleaning a few fishes with a knife. The steel entirely tethered to the flesh which the man still had to cut.
Inhaling relaxed, Midgardsormr took a seat on a simple stool. Marginal, he noticed a steaming pot which stood on the stove. Was this cook so fast in peeling something? Or had the dragon just wasted so much time? Not, that he could tell for sure... Mortals had a completely different sense for time... But this vessel here was shaped to match their standards, after all...
"Fried fish and roast-potatoes to your liking?" the gruff Hyur asked while he took two frying pans out of a cupboard. Perplexed, the Methuselah studied him for a short moment, but then got a grip and nodded observable. Erik didn't say anything else as long as he flavored the fish, but afterwards – when he placed the flesh into the heated skillet – an unusual question became audible: "I suppose, you want to sleep at the manor? In Cecilia's room?"
Blushing embarrassed with wide eyes, Midgardsormr jerked a little.
"So I'm right." the Hyur noticed grinning. His obvious complacency- cattiness was sickening... and made the dragon's irises glow slightly. Anger and bashfulness both fighting against each other. "Do not act conceited." ,the Methuselah kept an abashed stutter with a severe tune down, "I have NOT planned to rest in her bed." Chuckling, Erik responded: "That's nothing I would have expected from you. But I was sure you wouldn't let her alone for the night."
Turning his gaze away, the dragon grumbled: "I am not foolish enough to think that I'd deserve sharing the sleeping-berth with the maiden while this here is no unobtrusive puppet. But I can't live with the thought to stay away from her. Albeit a humane existence does not allow me this luxury... since it forces me to partake in mortal routine... At least at night, I still want to be with Cecilia."
"Makes sense... You have given her so much faith, that the two of you already surpass what I and my geezer shared. Hence, you are already loyal and feel connected to my sister." the cook sighed and adjusted the temperature of the fish, before he poured the pot's water out.
Taking a bowl which stood next to him, the Warrior turned it above the second pan upside-down, wherefore chopped onions and bacon fell onto the warm area. A wonderful odor came from them as they began to fry; making 'Midge's' mouth develop additional saliva. The fish smelled too discreet, but the bacon had a strong aroma...
After a short while, Erik added the potatoes and several spices.
When he had stirred everything, the Midlander murmured: "You are surprising me a lot, you know... I was overwhelmed to see, that her life means more to you than your own immortality. But when I think about it, there were so early signs for your trust into Ceci... You allowed her to touch you, while nobody else was plus is granted with this endurance. That you sat on her shoulder was also not pure egoism to have a mortal vehicle. It was also for feeling physical contact to her."
Biting into the flesh next to his back-tooth, the dragon avoided the expectant steel. An audible smile of the Warrior followed: "No reason for sulking, Midgard. Otherwise, I as her brother should rather be the one who does so... After all, you told me right before an unbelievable secret... You did sleep... while you were not more than a toy- a stuffed animal... by HER side."
Hissing, the father of dragon-kind eyeballed the Hyur.
Erik, however, smiled brighter. "I thought you wouldn't ignore your dignity for anyone... There was no day in my world, in which Midgardsormr would have allowed anybody to sleep by his side. Much less to hold him. But seemingly, Ceci is somebody with the power to change a bitter heart."
After these words, the annoying man placed the food on a plate.
"Here, bon appétit." With that, he served Midgardsormr the simple, yet delicious smelling dinner. Although the ancient being was frustrated, he accepted the fork and knife that Erik offered him.
"Uhm... Can you use them?" Cecilia's 'brother' wondered curious. Exhaling with a wrinkled nose, the Methuselah answered cynical: "I have seen generations of thy kind. Watched their steps from birth to death. Thou thinkest I have no idea how these tools work? Also, there were plenty of meals thou adventurers hast consumed in my near. I am surely clumsy, but I can hold a knife plus fork. The only thing I have to figure out is how to control these hands precisely."
Following, the dragon cut a piece of the fish and put it without trouble into his mouth.
"Doesn't look like you haven't done it before. This was quite natural... Maybe you have just too little control over your feet." the Hyur remarked proud. Closing the eyes with a resigned 'Hmpf.', the ancient being took a bite of the roasted potatoes.
~C~
Holding his head with the left hand, Midgardsormr felt drained.
The falling flakes strengthened this sensation with their hypnotic effect...
Glancing at the Marauder, he asked: "Why did thou find it necessary to escort me?" Erik shrugged and tousled his short brown hair in order to get rid of the snow. "This city is no place for somebody from your kin. And as long as you have to get used to your new body, I think you walk outdoors better not alone around. Especially not at night." the Hyur explained.
They reached the villa – greeted the guards with a nod.
Walking to Cecilia's guestroom, Erik stated: "You will really not consider sleeping in the grand bed? I mean, she is – in terms of the public – your legitimate girlfriend..." Shaking his head exhausted, the dragon replied: "Thy lie does not affect my decision. And as long as I cannot ask Cecilia myself, if she accepts this disgraceful falsehood, I am not even imagining such situation."
The Marauder paused all movements.
Irritated, Midgardsormr turned around and scrutinized that confused expression in the man's mien. But since Erik didn't seem to overcome whatever was petrifying him, the tired dragon didn't posses any motivation for pushing an explanation. Aside from that: The guest-room was right behind him, so nothing would bring him to relinquish the strong need alias magnetism to be finally back.
But in the moment he pushed the doorknob: "Midgard, what exactly is my sister for you?"
With an earnest, exhorting side-glance the Methuselah tried to hide his emerging nervousness. Yet, fooling Erik wasn't completely succeeding. "I know you won't call any mortal willingly a friend. But I'm sure you have more sympathy for Ceci left than my geezer had for me. She's your protégé. All I can't figure out here is your true intention. In which way you treat her as something special."
Midgardsormr frowned while he studied Cecilia's self-chosen brother.
Fortunately, he was in no aspect forced to answer, but... Without a response, there wouldn't be rest... Since this 'sibling' was a protective one. If this Hyur got wind of any problems, he called for them before they could surprise him or the persons he shielded. And he would insist on this right as long as the present knowledge he had gotten didn't suffice.
Dead end...
Blinking in a twitched motion, the red eyes shone for a moment in discreet light. "A part of me..." ,the dragon shrived, "...wishes for her to be my daughter." Just a piece of his conflicting sentiments. The only piece which he was clearly able to grasp. But still important enough to get him out of this. To make her 'brother' understand how stressful that ignorant question had been.
Agony slipped over Erik's expression. Guilt for being insensitive.
"You adore her so much..." the Warrior's leader marveled full of empathy. The ancient being wasn't in the mood for talking any further about his feelings, hence he nodded only. Not, that a gruff Hyur needed any permission from him to continue... "This makes the circumstance indeed complicated... I shouldn't have make fun of your youthful appearance when you have fatherly feelings for Ceci. Let alone announcing you to be her boyfriend. I'm sorry..." the mortal apologized.
Shaking his head minimal, Midgardsormr stepped into the dark chamber.
There existed no reason for this man to feel guilty. All he had done was trying to help a dragon... For everything else, he wasn't in charge. Nothing that went wrong today was his fault.
"Forbearance doesn't suit dragons." ,Erik stated gently – reading seemingly again 'Midge's' mind, "But I can't pretend to dislike it. Feels good when for once a wyrm does not want to guzzle me. … You'll be fine by yourself tonight?" "Of course I will." the Methuselah assured him promptly; refusing to act softly towards the mannerless Ax-bearer. Rejecting to spoil this nuisance.
Mentioned Marauder gave a little smile: "Okay... See you tomorrow, gramps."
When the door was closed behind Erik, Midgardsormr sighed intense.
Nasty exigency... Socializing. Why must the only second being who knew him in this world own such contrarious traits, that an ancient dragon could hardly decide for whether or not liking him? Under standardized instances, not even the tiniest glance of sweetness would persuade a Methuselah to fall for one as frustrating as this alien mortal. Just because they had been friends in another world didn't make them automatically comrades at this place.
Gazing at the sleeping maiden who looked even beautiful in the discreet chimney-light, the feeling of tiredness caught him. Made his anger abate. Thus he went slowly to her right side. It felt natural, when he knelt down and placed his arms on the mattress, wherefore he couldn't resist the need to put his head on the folded limbs. Shyly, his right hand touched hers underneath the blanket.
'Your brother is exhausting...' he thought with a faint smirk on his lips.
But this weak joy vanished quickly. Once again he realized the unignorable eventuality of death. She might never learn about Erik's specific quirks in case that her coma lasted forever. And only this understanding was enough to open the abyss underneath him.
Squinting his lids, he stood up. His tremulous hand would crush her fragile fingers if he wouldn't make sure to not touch her meanwhile, so this physical distance was necessary... Partly blinded by burning water, he dragged his feet reluctant to the big armchair. Was the giant hole which threatened to consume him ever going to become smaller...?
Like a dog would, he convolved as good as feasible on the pad. He couldn't dare to lie by her side... Not with this humane shape. Not even during the urgent need to feel her warmth...
