Real talk though, my goal for this fic is for everyone to have a huge crush on Lucatiel by the end.
Like right now you might be like, 'yeah, she's a pretty chill NCP. Definitely better than Patches.'
But I hope in reading this fic you join the "Lucatiel is the best part of DS2 and I love her with all my heart" club and you grin every time you see her in game.
Thats my goal.
You almost forgot about Benny. The sight of that bright blue (fake as frick) sword startles you as you draw closer to the entrance of the Shaded Woods.
"He-" No one says 'hey' in Drangleic! "Hello!" You correct yourself, waving.
Benhart slowly looks up at you, appearing to have been daydreaming. "Have you business with me?" He asks sharply.
"Not... Particularly?" You allow. It didn't seem so antagonistic before. "I'm just trying to get to the shaded woods, I guess. What about you?"
He nods sagely, "The way yonder's all blocked up you see, by this god-awful statue. Heavens above. Who thought it a good idea to put it there!"
"Well..." You start, glancing at said gate. "I'll be right back actually. Don't- do anything." Leaving him with a light frown, you dart over to the strange gate-like structure. Honestly, who designed this place?
Brushing off the questionable architecture, you take care of the first two prisoners. You then open up your inventory and grab the fragrant branch you grabbed back at Sinner's Rise. It really doesn't look like anything important or magical.
I wonder... In Sinner's you hadn't even considered smelling if (you were still in a state of mild shock) but now...
"It won't hurt," If I just took one sniff it, right? You think, slowly bringing it closer. You take a hesitant whiff of the dusty branch, your nose wrinkling instantly. Cherry cough syrup and death, is your immediate judgment.
"Yeah, no." You shudder.
You shove the offending twig under Rosabeth's nose with a pitying frown. "Sorry about this, friend."
There's a short pause, just long enough for you to second guess your memory and wonder what kind of person thinks giving a statue a disgusting smelling branch is a good idea.
Thankfully she wakes up before you get skittish enough to make a break for it, and goes falling backwards. You blink in surprise.
"Sorry! Oh god, I would've caught you if I had known!" You apologize, moving to help her to her feet.
She shakes her head, coughing violently. "It- it's fine! I just-" She tries to take a deep breath and ends up coughing again.
You kneel down next to her, frowning fretfully. Curse your instincts to comfort people. You can't just hug everybody in distress, (y/n). "Take it easy. Goodness knows how long you've been petrified." You say.
She smiles weakly in return, pausing to get her bearings a bit more before answering, "Th-thank you. I do appreciate it."
"Are you sure you're okay?" You ask. "I can spare a life gem."
"I'm fine, I think... Hrgg!" She stops, hitting her chest and grimacing in pain.
You reach into your pack and offer a life gem, telling her, "Seriously, it's no trouble!"
"No no no, I'm fine! Really, I am!" She protests, pushing your hand back. You roll your eyes and remain quiet. "...fine." She finally concedes.
You snicker as she crushes the small gem, "Better safe than sorry."
She gives you a strange look, pressing her lips into a thin line. "Um, my name is Rosabeth! Of Melfia."
"I'm (Y/N)." You say, smiling gently. "It's a pleasure to meet you, although this is... A pretty weird first meeting."
"Thank you so much for rescuing me. Phew…" She smiles, glancing around curiously. "I was attacked, and turned to stone…I think… I owe you my life! If you had not come..." She heaves a sigh, patting her destroyed clothing and pulling out a prism stone. "Oh, perhaps you can take this as thanks?"
You laugh but accept it, "Sure! You really don't need to thank me though, it was no problem. You look like you need some help getting back on your feet." You hadn't meant to point out her ruined dress, but that's how it seems. Oops.
"I feel shameful... wearing these rags." She pouts and you can't help but think how adorable she is. You wanna big sibling the hell outta her, to be perfectly honest. "Um, I hate to burden you further..."
"Rosabeth." You interrupt, " It's totally fine, not a bother at all. I've got tons of extra equipment." You immediately open your inventory and flick through your options. You're almost certain you got a few pieces of the pyromancy set in No Man's Wharf.
"I'll take anything, whatever you don't need. I'm not particular when it comes to apparel. Anything at all will do." She blushes in embarrassment. "Just put it on the ground, and I'll change into it later."
"Of course." You say.
She slowly gets to her feet while you go through your inventory and select a reasonably cute outfit. You've only got so much to work with after all, and you're definitely keeping the best things for yourself.
"Do you know what year it is?" She asks hesitantly.
"What?" You pause. "Uh... No? I'm not exactly from around here."
She makes a humming noise, "Was anyone else nearby then? An older sorcerer perhaps?"
You briefly consider telling her straight out that her previous teacher is wondering the continent without her, but that seems rude. "Uh, unless you're talking about the guy with the electric blue sword over there, I'm gonna go with no."
It's quiet again while you finally come to a decision on what to give her and she wonders around the immediate area. "Here." You say, placing the clothing in a neat pile. "I'll go chat with that knight. See you back in Majula, I assume?"
"Ah, thank you so much! I do hope we'll meet. Majula may be my best bet to find Milord." She responds cheerfully.
You flash her a smile before descending the steps outside and joining Benhart. "The path's clear." You say, trying not to seem too smug.
"It is?" He asks dubiously, making as if to stand.
You hold out bout hands in a stop motion, "Ah, nooo, friendo. That 'statue' is changing her clothes at the moment."
"Really was a person then?" He looks disturbed.
"Yes. And I revived her." You confirm.
"Haah, didn't think you had it in yer pal." He laughs, shaking his head.
You don't even bother to keep your expression neutral. "Excuse me?"
"No, no, no. That's not like it sounds, you know! It was a pleasant surprise, that's all." He corrects, seemingly sincere.
"...sure. Half-assed apology accepted." You say.
This makes him roar with laughter, his face betraying his shock. "You're funny! Name's Benhart. Thanks to you, I can resume my journey." He holds out his hand, which you cautiously shake.
"(Y/N)."
"If we share the same path, I'm sure that we are gonna meet again. I'll repay my debt to you in battle. And I swear it by my sword. The road ahead's gonna be long, but I'm here to help. Gah hah hah hah hah!"
You're not sure what's so funny about that last sentence, but you smile nonetheless. "I will hold you to that promise, Benhart. For now though, I'm heading back to Majula."
He offers no formal farewell aside from a short wave, glancing at the gate as if he's waiting for Rosabeth to leave before proceeding. At least he's a gentleman... If not a bit condescending.
There are worse things to be, you decide. Especially in Drangleic.
The first thing you did upon returning to Majula was find Rosabeth again. It wasn't too hard, although you've learned people don't stay in the same place constantly like you remember.
She's a fantastic teacher in your opinion, and is a tremendous help with your pyromancy. Not to mention how great a friend she's turning out to be. In fact, she's your favorite person in Majula at the moment.
You had put away the scrolls for today, and are now exchanging tales of your home lands. It seems Rosabeth is just as fascinated by your home as you are by Melfia.
"Wait... Do people still throw balls and stuff like that then? With the big dresses and socialites and stuff?" You ask excitedly, trying to picture yourself attending one. You, in formal clothing, the very thought is amusing.
Rosabeth laughs, nodding. "Of course! The Academy threw a few every year. Do you not?"
You roll your eyes, "Well, we had parties and formal dances, but they're not that formal. I think the most formal dance I've ever been to was my senior prom, and someone spiked the punch. I was fucking wasted by the end of the night."
Her eyes go wide. "(Y/N), such language!" She mock scolds, trying not to smile herself.
You grin in return, "I'll watch my damn language. For you."
She gives up trying to seem stern, laughing, "You're horrible."
"That's fair." You agree with a shrug. "Now it's your turn. Tell me about these fancy dances of yours."
"I don't actually remember most of them..." She hums, looking away in embarrassment.
Cute... Wait. "You don't remember? Were you hammered or something?" You laugh in shock, happy to learn that's still a thing in this time frame. At least now you've both got embarrassing stories from your youth to share.
Although it is hard to picture Rosabeth drunk. At a magic academy too. Now that is intimidating. You can already see soul spears being thrown around willy nilly. Or people trying to replace fireworks with soul shower.
She blushes, twisting her skirt this way and that. "If 'hammered' is another term for heavily intoxicated, then yes. I am a bit of a light weight."
"A bit." You repeat, raising your eyebrows.
"Well, I'm not as bad as some! I had a friend who tried 'fire breathing' not an hour in." She grins.
You've gotta hear this story. "Not the magic kind of fire breathing I'd assume."
"Of course not." She snickers, going on to describe her friend using kitchen oil and a torch to act out his 'fearsome encounter' with a drake. Apparently it had been quite the tale.
You're both cackling by the time she breathlessly finishes, you more so than she.
"Wait, wait, did they punish him?" You laugh.
"They gave the entire cleaning staff a day off." She snickers happily. "He did have help from the other trouble makers..." She pauses, staring at something over your shoulder. "I have not seen you around Mujula before."
"What?" You respond, realizing she's talking to a newcomer a second later. Rosabeth rises gracefully, while you scramble up to see...
"I would think not." Lucatiel hums, obviously amused.
"Oh." Your eyes go wide, taking in her strangely casual choice of apparel and lack of hat/mask. Goodness gracious is she gorgeous. The realization hits you like a truck.
The blonde raises an eyebrow, "Hello to you too."
You grab Rosabeth's hand, pulling her closer to Lucatiel. "Rosabeth, this is my- the knight I told you about, Lucatiel of Mirrah."
Rosabeth giggles, "It is a pleasure, Knight Lucatiel. I'm Rosabeth of Melfia. Your friend here rescued me from petrifaction."
'Rescued' is overstating things a bit, you want to add. You can't summon the annoyance necessary to correct her though. Lucatiel is in Majula and this is something you never planned on, but damn are you happy for it.
Lucatiel's eyes light up with understanding, "You must be the pyromancy teacher."
"Indeed." Rosabeth confirms, glancing at you. "Speaking of which, I... Need to talk to the armor merchant."
"Wh-"
Rosabeth shushes you with a shoulder pat, shaking her head. "We can continue training tomorrow, and I'm sure Lucatiel can keep you company in the mean time." She purrs the Knight's name.
Are you trying to set me up? You watch her leave with narrowed eyes.
"I assume she doesn't need armor?" Lucatiel finally says.
"Actually, I think she's trying to give us alone time. Which is... I don't know." You respond, still thoroughly baffled. Either Rosebeth has a sixth sense, or I'm way too obvious. "...She never really struck me as a shipper, but hey."
Lucatiel laughs, nodding. "I have missed your strange dialect."
This makes you smile, shyly looking her in the eyes. "Have you now? Enough to warrant a hug?"
"Don't get ahead of yourself." She teases, taking a step closer and snaking her arms around your waist nonetheless. "Better?"
"Much." You hum happily, shifting back enough to look at her properly. "What's up with the clothes? Or, lack thereof."
"The blacksmith is repairing all my equipment. I've been loitering in Majula while he does so." She says, her lips tilting up. "I heard your laughter and realized you must be correct in assuming staying in one place is the key."
You blink, finding it quite the challenge to find your voice with Lucatiel looking at you like that. "The key to... seeing each other more often?"
"Of course. I can't claim to be your Knight if I'm not protecting you." She says, smiling. "And speaking of which, you seemed to be in low spirits after the Sinner."
"Ah... Yeah." You look away, pressing your lips together. "I didn't know it would be... It always seemed so heroic before but now it's just... Necessary. I need the Lord Souls to continue."
She nods, "I understand. You're new to the battlefield, are you not?"
"Yeah. Before Drangleic I didn't..." You to say your previous home was much safer, but that's not exactly true. "My home was dangerous in a different way. At least Hollows make their intentions clear." You scowl. "And don't like, harass me. Which is a definite plus. All we needed was a zombie apocalypse apparently!"
You might be getting a little too worked up over this.
"We do not have to speak of it." She assures you.
You pause, willing yourself to calm. Admittedly it's much easier than usual. "What do you wanna talk about?" You ask.
"What have you been doing? Aside from saving petrified maidens, of course." She smirks.
"Is someone jealous?" You respond snappily, sniggering.
"Oh, extremely. I'm afraid you've trapped yourself." She tightens her grip on you, laughing. "It is my responsibility to keep the future monarch safe, after all."
You roll your eyes, "Pshhh, I'll have you know I'm a bonafide pyromancer now. I can throw some sick fires." Okay, maybe you purposely use more slang to make Lucatiel laugh, but that's not a bad thing.
She snorts, shaking her head fondly. "Can you now?"
"Yes." You hum. "You're more than welcome to keep me 'trapped' though."
"What a marvelous idea." She laughs, looking down at you warmly.
Forcing yourself to remain still, you feel an embarrassing blush creep up your cheek. "Stop that." You finally say, biting down on your lip.
"Stop what?" She seems much too amused to not know what she's doing to you.
"Looking at me like that!" You huff, looking anywhere but her cornflower blue eyes.
She shakes with barely contained laughter, giving you a dazzling smile. "Oh? And how I am supposed to look at you?"
"Not intensely enough to make me blush, preferably. You're not helping this whole crush situation." You stop suddenly, realizing your mistake. Why do I always over share when I'm flustered?
Lucatiel leans down the tiniest bit to press her forehead against yours, grinning wickedly. "Crush situation? Are you certain that's the phrase you want?"
Yeah, she's definitely teasing me. And you have to admit it is working.
"...Crush is another term for fancying someone." You finally respond. "It's just way less pretentious sounding. Who even started that trend? It makes no sense. At least with the term 'crush' you can equate it to crushing feelings of oh my god you are so pretty. You can't really do that with 'fancy'."
You're just distracting yourself at this point. It's much easier to seem unaffected by her proximity if you concentrate on linguistics.
"(Y/N)." You glance up to find Lucatiel's eyebrows scrunch up, her mouth set in a positively adorable pout. "For someone so easily flustered you seem to throw compliments around with ease."
"What?" You raise your eyebrows, smiling lightly. "You mean calling you pretty? I hate to break it to you, but that's literally a fact. Shalquoir is a cat, you're pretty, I'm horrible at flirting, etcetera."
She bursts into laughter, pressing one hand against her face as if to smother the sound. You suppose she feels awkward without her mask. "Is that what we're doing?" She asks.
You gasp dramatically, pressing a hand to your chest. It's hard to act offended when you're laughing though. "Ice cold."
"Good thing we have a pyromancer then." She snickers.
"Lucatiel, no."
She's just too cute.