Rising From the Ashes
Rated: T
Story Summary: Clive returned from the final battle victorious, and more importantly, alive. According to Jill, it still felt as if she'd been thrust into a lofty dream by having her love safely back in her life yet saving the world from certain doom didn't mean all their troubles ended there. Now with rumors of Joshua's survival spreading across the land, it seemed there was more work to be done than ever before.
MAJOR SPOILERS for the ending of FF16. You have been warned.
… Aw, shit, here we go again. I really can't stop y'all. I need the brothers to be back together so this is me huffing more copium as I patiently wait in hopes for confirmation in some DLC… And also plenty of Clive x Jill fluff to top it all off because these precious babies deserve nothing but love and happiness. T_T
Before starting this fict, I recommend you read "To You I Will Always Return" but if you don't want to, the basic premise is Clive returns after the final battle with Ultima. Tearful reunions and all that ensue before Clive falls asleep and this story picks up when Gav and Jill bring an unconscious Clive back to the Hideaway.
Enjoy!
Clive didn't so much as stir as Gav and Uncle Byron carried him inside the Hideaway and into his chambers. Lying him gently upon his sheets, Clive remained entirely limp and unresponsive as Jill and Gav stripped him of his armor, sword, leathers and underclothes until he lay completely bare upon the wrinkled bedding. Jill taking extra care in moving the Phoenix feather in Clive's possession to take a treasured spot atop his mantle before they got to work.
Armed with a tub of warm water with a mix of fragrant oils, flower petals from the gardens and two soft sponges, Jill and Gav busied themselves by washing Clive's entire body from the top of his head to the soles of his feet and everything in-between. Cleansing his skin of all the remnants of blood, sweat and dirt he'd acquired from his prolonged battle with Ultima.
Once finished with her task, Jill gently laid a blanket over Clive's hips to protect his modesty as Gav finished rinsing the willow oil from Clive's hair. Otto and Byron stepped forward to lift Clive's prone form as Gav and Jill quickly changed the now sodden and filthy sheets. Once the freshened bedding was safely tucked under the hay-filled mattress, the two men ever so carefully laid their leader down for a well-deserved rest.
Jill let out a sigh of relief at the improvement of Clive's appearance already.
Clean of all the smeared stains of dried blood, viscera and grime spattered across his skin, he looked merely sleeping rather than knocking on death's door. She couldn't help but reach out to began brushing her fingers through his slightly damp hair yet her grooming only lasted a moment for Tarja soon appeared through the doorway armed with her wooden box of medicinal supplies.
Nodding in approval of his cleanliness, Tarja quickly pushed the others aside. The no-nonsense healer quickly going to work to disinfect, stitch and bandage the many new wounds inflicted upon Clive's battered flesh.
Clive's stiff curse-addled left hand taunting Jill the longer she stared at it from as close to his bedside as Tarja allowed. He had promised before he'd fallen asleep that the blight would not spread to the rest of him but the worry and anxiousness flooded her anyway. It was a miracle Clive had returned at all, a prayer answered, yet Jill was terrified it was merely an illusion and this new affliction would soon be the cause of his demise.
It felt like a lifetime passed before Tarja finished gauzing and plastering the last of his many wounds before the talented healer began carefully studying the afflicted hand with a discerning eye.
Midadol walked in unannounced, standing by the pacing Byron in the doorway. Pink bottom lip bitten firmly between her tense teeth, jaw clenched as she watched the physician quietly access the situation. "Clive is going to be a-alright, isn't he?" Cid's daughter asked, not able to hide the audible wobble of her voice.
Heart trembling in her chest as they all waited upon pins and needles for Tarja's response.
Gav's hand on Jill's shoulder nearly bruising in its grip. Jill's palms laced with half moon imprints from how hard her nails were digging in from her permanent fists. Otto appeared stoic but there was a storm under the surface of his calm demeanor. Byron's frantic pacing only increased while Mid looked to be on the verge of exploding. Torgal, ignoring any and all glares from Tarja to keep away from her patient, lay his large head near Clive's; the wolf's soft pink tongue and black nose nuzzling against his beloved master's jaw.
Never had silence been so loud as they awaited her verdict.
An entire sun cycle seemed to pass before Tarja let out a relived sigh once her examination was complete. Fingers lifting from Clive's curse to gently squeeze at the much softer supple flesh of his forearm.
"I'm not sure how, but the curse is contained. It's only afflicting his hand and shows no sign of spreading whatsoever..." Tarja's voice held such reverence as she skimmed her fingertips over where the dichotomy of his flesh changed from a freckled pale gray of stone to the warm tan of his skin. "I've never seen anything like it, but, I truly believe he'll be alright. With plenty of rest of course even if that would be a first for Clive 'ere," the physician chuckled in fond exasperation as she looked down at her most difficult patient.
An audible sigh of pure alleviation swept through the room. A weighted burden that was so heavy on all their shoulders lifted with the wonderful news.
"Oh, fuck. Thank the Founder…" Gav muttered, reaching down to pat Clive on his bare chest, his voice stuttered with utter relief. "Y-You hear that, Clive? I fear you're going to be stuck with us awhile yet. Damned good thing since you still owe me a full round of lager in the mess. I promise you're the one going to be throwing up on my boots this time. I swear it, my brother."
"Praises be…" Uncle Byron choked back a sob as he approached his nephew's beside to gently grip Clive's knee through the blanket. "Oh, my nephew, I'm so glad you're alright. Now's the time for you to get some rest and you'll be right as rain in no time. Now, I must tell all the others the wonderful news." he smiled with tears leaking down his face. The happiness in his outward expression did little to mask the misery of losing his other beloved nephew Joshua lying just beneath the surface. Byron squeezed Clive's good hand before he quickly vacated the room to deliver the tidings to the rest of the Hideaway's nervous residents.
Mid smiled widely with tears slipping down her face as she stepped further into the room and over to Clive's bedside.
"Yep! And I hope you haven't forgotten about my flying ship! The new prototype is almost ready and I'm going to be needing your services to fetch me all the equipment needed to build the sails!" she choked out a sob as she reached out and lay a gentle hand upon his shoulder. "…My dad would be so proud of you. I know I am… So you better get well soon, okay? This ship isn't going to build itself!" Midadol quickly wiped her eyes before running out of the room like the whirlwind of energy she was.
The silence that followed her absence was not as comfortable as Jill would have liked for as marvelous as it was to have the sun back in her life, there was still a dark cloud hanging over all of them.
An absence of two souls far too prominent to ignore.
Tarja and Otto stood nearby, questions probably lingering on their tongues that were forcefully bitten back amidst Clive's unconscious state. Seeing no way out of this conversation or situation, Gav let out a sigh, wiping the tears from his one good eye before sitting near Clive's hip. Torgal playfully nipped at him a bit before the wolf lay down his head and closed his eyes to join Clive in blissful slumber. The good news was not lost on the hound after all.
Jill glanced at Gav, his green eye peeing into her own as a look of resignation fell across his exhausted features.
With Clive out of commission, the burden fell upon his shoulders to deliver the news no one wanted to hear. "As you probably already realized, Joshua and Dion are dead." Gav broke the news quickly as if swiftly tearing off a bloody plaster.
Tarja lifted her hand to her mouth, eyes welling with fresh tears as she glanced towards where their infirmary was located. Most likely considering the young woman Jote who dedicated so much of her life to Joshua and his mission. As distracted as she currently was with the new mother and baby in her care, it was only a matter of time before the news of Joshua's fate would send her world into an endless abyss and cripple her emotionally. Jill bit her lip and allowed herself to commiserate with the pain she knew all too well but probably felt tenfold by Jote who obviously loved Joshua so deeply.
"Both of them died as heroes then…" Otto, practical as always, said after an agonizingly long silence broken only by Clive's breathing and Torgal's soft snores.
"Yes they did." Jill agreed whole-heartedly with a nod as her fingers reached out and began weaving through Clive's wispy raven locks. The action meant to comfort herself more than anything. How could she ever forget the visceral agony lacing Clive's voice as he sobbed and wailed for his brother. The sounds of his heartbroken cries echoing in her head and tearing her heart out all over again.
Gav cleared his throat, "We'll be sure to honor their sacrifice by whatever means necessary."
"Yes we shall," Tarja sighed, reaching to grasp Clive's gray left hand, "And we'll start by taking care of Clive and make sure he's alright… I'm sure Joshua and Dion would agree."
Clive slept through the first day peacefully.
Amidst the commotion of jumping back into the fray of the new world that Clive's, Joshua's and Dion's sacrifices brought into reality, it wasn't until late in the evening when Tarja realized Jote had disappeared as if she'd never been there at all. The only evidence remaining of the Undying woman's presence being a small folded piece of parchment left unopened on Clive's writing desk.
Three sun cycles had passed in a whirlwind of activity, and still, Clive slept on.
As the fifth sunrise dawned since his return, all at the Hideaway began to wonder if their leader would ever wake again.
On the sixth day, Jill began wondering much of the same...
It had been seven moons later and Clive had yet to open his eyes.
Breathing steady and slow in slumber and as always, Jill and Torgal remained ever vigilant as Clive's constant hovering shadows. Gav, Otto, and Uncle Byron working tirelessly to pick up the pieces as the entire world began to adjust to a life without crystals, without a hint of magick to rely on. The rebellions, the skirmishes and the panic that waxed and waned like a churning sea all leaving them with little to no sleep.
And yet even with all the chaos surrounding her, Jill's main concern was the sleeping man in her arms.
"Come on, Clive, only a little bit more…" Jill whispered. One of her hands cradling his head in her lap as she placed the stone chalice once more against his bottom lip. Encouraging the unconscious man to take another sip of the nutrient-dense tonic Tarja made to keep him hydrated as well as sustained. The color and slimy viscosity of it so unpleasant even if the herb smell was tolerable, even slightly floral. It was perhaps the sweetness of a bountiful amount of sugar in the recipe as well as his taste buds being dormant with sleep probably the one reason Clive was able to stomach it.
It took a few taps of encouragement before adorably, his nose wrinkled and his body decided to finally obey. Thick lips parting slightly as she slowly poured the liquid into his mouth. The remnants trickling down his jaw but ignored as his Adam's apple bobbed as he finally swallowed the remainder of the tepid beverage.
Jill let out a sigh as she placed the now empty goblet on the small table astride his bed. So grateful that Clive had been more cooperative today than yesterday as she used a handkerchief to brush away the stray droplets in his beard with a fond smile. One that quickly fell as her worry for his state continued to haunt her.
As if sensing her distress, Torgal bumped her thigh with his nose. The wolf with his beseeching golden eyes nuzzling against her hip before he rested his head once more upon Clive's shoulder. Those intelligent eyes peering at Clive's face as if begging his master to wake.
Even their beloved hound was becoming increasingly worried.
Everyone was worried.
Jill was terrified.
Tarja had been in multiple times these past days to measure his progress and found nothing amiss. Clive's wounds sustained in battle were either fully healed or well on their way. Curse-addled hand unchanged and showing no signs of spreading whatsoever even if it sadly would forever remain stiff as stone. He had no fever, no infections nor any other ailments as far as Tarja was concerned. Even Harporates had even been delving into the texts to search for information regarding this sudden bout of prolonged slumber with nary an answer to be found.
And that was the scariest part of all.
It was as if Clive simply didn't want to wake up.
Perhaps the grief of losing his brother was too great for him to handle. The thought of his mind and soul merely slipping away into the aether leaving his body to slowly break down and waste away was almost too much to bear. Jill's mind was running in circles with all the possible reasons, wondering if perhaps using all the power of the Eikons and absorbing Ultima's essence to finally destroy the last ever crystal left his consciousness somewhere he simply couldn't return.
What if that the brief moment they shared in the boat would be the last time he'd ever open his eyes…?
Shaking her head to rid herself of such morbid thoughts, Jill gently lifted Clive's head from her lap and placed it back on his chocobo-feather stuffed pillow. Forcing herself to leave his side in order to get ready for bed; hoping for the sweet abyss of dreamless sleep instead of the nightmares plaguing her as of late.
Tooth powder rinsed from her mouth, hair braided to prevent tangles and now comfortably dressed in her white sleeping gown, Jill glanced back towards their shared bed. A smile lifting her lips amidst the rampage of the sweeping and upsetting torrent of emotions when she saw Torgal fully nestled against Clive's right side. The wolf's large fluffy head resting upon against Clive's shoulder as the hound snored softly.
Bare feet soundless as she approached the bedside, Jill couldn't help but gently ruffle Torgal's fur before pulling back the blankets and stretching out against Clive. Lying on her side, Jill gently maneuvered Clive's arm to slip her shoulder into the gap of his armpit until her head rested comfortably against his collarbone. Clive was so wonderfully warm. Bare skin the perfect combination of firm from his musculature to the give of soft supple flesh. The multiple scars and sparse hair gave her hands wonderful amounts of texture to smooth over as she drew closer against him before her hand finally came to rest upon his bare chest where her palm lay flat over his pounding heart.
The feel of his heartbeat such a comfort to her as of late. Hardcore evidence that Clive was indeed still alive, only merely sleeping. Resting. Gaining back the strength he'd used so much if not all of in the final battle with that depraved so-called 'god'.
Jill studied Clive's profile in the moonlight.
Handsome face so soft and open in sleep. No furrow of his brow or the famous scowl he tended to wear according to Gav. Jill's eyes flickered to his thick raven hair over his regal nose and sinfully soft pouty lips. The curve of his strong chin and jaw all covered with his thickening beard. It was a face she knew better than her own. One she adored and yet none of it felt right since it'd been far too long since his cobalt blue eyes had opened. Only the thick dark black lashes fanning across his cheeks when all Jill wanted was for him to simply wake up.
The backs of her eyes burned. Jill bit down her desire to break down, to fall apart and instead peered towards the open door leading to their small balcony. To witness the night sky full of stars and the moon rising high above them all. So large and full lingering proudly against the strokes of blue and purple painting across the inky black. The spattering dust of white stars twinkling in the abyss, Jill's icy blue eyes were drawn towards the dark spot where the red star Metia she'd pray to ever night had went dim; the sight of it still glaring a hole deep in her chest.
Jill closed her eyes and nestled further against Clive's warm body, her ear above his sternum listening to the beautiful thrumming beat of his heart.
"...Please…" she prayed against the steady pulse in his throat. To whom she was praying, she didn't know. Perhaps to Joshua who she saw immortalized as the sunrise every morning since his tragic end. The suns rays all capturing Joshua's kind warmth and brilliance as he watched over them from his spot in the heavens. "…Please, Clive. Come back to me…"
On the ninth sunrise, Jill opened her eyes only to meet Clive's sleepy gaze.
"Jill…" he whispered with that rare smile she adored so much and it was as she was staring deep into deep cobalt blue that she knew everything would truly be alright now…