no one can control me

ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀɢᴇᴅ ʙɪʀᴅ ꜱɪɴɢꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ꜰᴇᴀʀꜰᴜʟ ᴛʀɪʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴜɴᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ʙᴜᴛ ʟᴏɴɢᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪꜱ ᴛᴜɴᴇ ɪꜱ ʜᴇᴀʀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪꜱᴛᴀɴᴛ ʜɪʟʟ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀɢᴇᴅ ʙɪʀᴅ ꜱɪɴɢꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜰʀᴇᴇᴅᴏᴍ.

Her point of view took Delita by surprise. He had anticipated a positive spin on his words, something to make the honest truth look a little less bleak. He understood the impulse to paint Ivalice in a more hopeful color, but at present, it simply didn’t look feasible. As a commoner, Delita felt utterly powerless more often than not. He could see that it wore some people down, crushing their spirit and subduing them into silent obedience.

At times, it nearly did that to him. But when his sense returned to him, Delita knew that anger would be the only thing to get him through this. Where Teta met life with a grace and calm that fortified her, Delita let his ire towards injustice strengthen him. It was the one thing that no noble could take away from him. 

Delita found it interesting that she’d been residing at the convent for essentially her whole life. He’d always envisioned people choosing to go there (or perhaps being sent there regardless) at an older age. His first instinct was to believe that it would make her experience and perspective so different from his, but so far she hadn’t admonished him for leaving service, or for criticizing the ruling class. He was still expecting her to find a sentiment that didn’t sit right, to turn on her heel and leave him alone in the garden. 

“Are you truly confined here?” he questioned, looking around and then to her. “Are the stakes too high to ever leave? I’m being sincere in asking. You have more worth than what you can offer to others, you know,” he said, leveling her with a genuine expression.

“Being of service to others is noble and charitable. But that isn’t enough to sustain a person. That alone isn’t enough. You wouldn’t be selfish to want more.”

At least in his eyes, it wasn’t. Delita couldn’t picture the kind of sacrifice it would take to lead a life such as hers. Maybe he was too selfish to ever attempt it, and certainly nowhere near faithful enough. But even if he were, Delita was sure that it couldn’t possibly be enough to fulfill a person entirely. It would be a life half lived.

Ovelia could tell that her words took him by surprise. Her fellow sisters offered words of comfort and praise to reassure all who came here. A fancy delusion to offer sweet nothings that their hard labor would help form the kingdom into the powerhouse it once used to be. Smarter than that or perhaps offering the same honesty he gave her Ovelia felt no sense in mincing the truth in the matter. To her they were equals, equals with a hunger for more than what life laid out before them.

Ovelia heard how some of the sisters who came from nobler families spoke of commoners. It saddened her to her core, teachings of love and acceptance fell on deaf ears. That when they spoke their soft prayers it was often interpreted as a two faced demeanor to her.  Within these walls Ovelia could attempt to try and show that the royal family did truly care about the people. Why else was she sent here if to not show compassion and integrity? These people worked themselves to the core, farming, blacksmithing, tailoring. A tireless life with sweat and blood being poured into it to make a life worth living. It was often thankless, from what she could tell, but to deny that they were less because of their blood? 

Laughter bubbled out of her, louder than she anticipated coming out. She meant not to belittle him but it was very solid now that he truly had no idea who he was speaking to. It would happen time to time when she would speak to those who did not know of her status would realize halfway through their conversations. Throwing themselves on the floor, bowing and begging for forgiveness for speaking so freely to her in such a manner. 

“Sometimes I think the stake is higher for those around me than myself. For me this is all I will ever know, unless I am called upon and needed elsewhere.” Mulling over her words carefully Ovelia inhaled sharply. “Perhaps it’s not sustainable but I often wonder what more I would want if I were to sprout wings and soar away. My wish is no more than that, a wish unfulfilled and I have come- rather I need to come to terms with accepting that is what it will be. I can fill my head with childish desires and feed into my want of something more, yet who would it benefit but myself? For one living here, the desire alone is selfish enough, our teachings ask of us to be selfless and provide to those more in need. If this is where I am told that my people need me, if this where I can help Ivalice, then here I shall stay.”

It made her sound nobler than she really felt. So selfless and giving to others, that her desires was just a blip on her path. A mistake to even mention them. To tell someone her desires that she had never expressed them before made them real. With each careful word she spoke Ovelia spoke her wish into existence, could she quench the fire of her desires if she continued to feed them? Ovelia looked to him and found herself wondering what his something more would be. What was it that fueled him everyday to push him to strive for more? For him freedom was an option, but perhaps not the same freedom Ovelia longed for. Each word was given a meaning by definition, but each person it was given a purpose.

Wishful thinking aside, Delita hadn’t truly expected her to join him in the garden. It was probably–almost definitely–too much to ask of someone like her. But the worst that could happen was nothing at all, making it a low-risk offer to extend.

Once he was outside, he sucked in a hearty breath, at least glad to be out in the open. The sound of a voice, her voice, addressing him made Delita turn around once again. At first, his brows furrowed, not understanding her question. But then they relaxed once more as she clarified. He laughed lightly, giving a good-natured shrug in reply. 

“I’m sure what I’m about to say will sound ungrateful, though that’s not my intent, but the compensation for my labor isn’t ideal.”

Delita knew that this probably wasn’t the response she expected. Though when he pondered it further, she herself had a thankless position in society. Those in the upperclass expected people like him to feel thankful for even the most demeaning of positions. Keeping a stiff upper lip and gritting one’s teeth any time someone punched down was expected. The wages that were given were but a crumb, and citizens like him were expected to stretch it out for a comically long time.

It wasn’t a pretty truth. It wasn’t a pleasant topic. But Delita rarely minced words, and he felt too tired to even try right now.

“Hours spent in fields and large estates tending the property, or running errands for people privileged enough not to have to do it for themselves – they never add up. But there’s little else to take in terms of work right now. I’m sure you’ve heard, even from here,” he continued, gesturing to the church and convent as a whole. “I’m certainly not the only one in Ivalice feeling the pressure of a crumbling economy.”

He sighed, then gave a genuine smile. “Perhaps I should have given a more succinct answer. If I had, it would have been: no, I don’t enjoy them. But one day, I hope to. One day I aspire to be doing something more fulfilling.”

Placing his hands in his pockets, Delita began strolling the garden at a slow pace, inwardly noting the clusters of flowers and greenery. He made sure to keep a respectful distance from the girl, letting her know that his intentions were simply to walk and converse with someone. 

“And yourself? Your work here, do you find it fulfilling? How long have you resided here?” he asked, still maintaining a leisurely pace.

“You and the other sisters here are a source of great hope. When things feel too heavy to bear, people can turn to you and find meaning in it all. That’s no small feat, I’m sure. It means a great deal.”

It was a silly question, not many people dreamed of doing hard labor their whole lives. More often than not she heard from the older men who’ve resided her complain about aches and blisters due to hard and diligent work. “I prefer honesty, not often I hear the blunt truth that isn’t the form of complaints from those that are... of seniority. I am used to only hearing of what happens outside the walls through rumors. When I delve further into finding the truth I’m met often with honeyed lies.” 

Again, all she knew was whispers. Letters from the palace was rare, this used to sadden her when she first arrived now it was something she’d grown accustomed to. To find out real from fake she often spoke to those who stayed under their roof. Yet most people preferred to water down their opinions whenever she inquired more, seeing as who she was. “I know of some things, but not as much as I desired. I would be ignorant in saying I did not see a change coming with how bustling the church has become.”

Dwelling on his question, her work was fulfilling that much was true. Ovelia knew it was a small comfort for the people, the help that was provided here. Still she longed for more, how much more help to her people could she really be if she was out there? Or even in the palace? She knew things were in less desirable shape than often and she found herself to be smart. What would it be like if she was with her father? Could she offer answers unseen to those around him?

“The people do look to us, providing for them here is all I’ve ever known. I’ve lived here since I was young.” Continuing to stand at the entrance of the garden a forlorn sigh left her lips. “I often wish of doing more. There is so much of Ivalice to see, so much to help. To be confined here makes often wonder if we truly make much of a difference. If I were able to spread hope farther, then I would.” 

Making small steps closer her eyes travel to the clouds, where birds soared above. If she could travel just a mere fraction that they could maybe she could help calm the fears of the people of Ivalice. Her duty to the royal blood could be honored that much at least. Fixing a crumbling economy was a no small feat, something Ovelia wasn’t sure she could do, but providing hope and reassurance was that something that she did.

While he didn’t want to stare, it took Delita a slightly longer glance to realize that he must have been talking to one of the actual residents of the convent; this wasn’t merely a passerby like him or Teta. He could only assume that meant that the young woman was wholly devout, making him conscious of having lodged his foot in his mouth moments before. But she didn’t seem to mind, much to his relief. 

When she spoke of spending much of her time in prayer, Delita nodded, his delayed realization confirmed. He was glad for the fact that Teta hadn’t heard him speak so informally about religion in front of this girl. She would have quietly chided him for it, or worse, simply given him a disappointed look. Teta took these matters more seriously and oftentimes cared for the opinions of others more than Delita did. It wasn’t that he meant to offend, but he didn’t approach conversation with the same interpersonal awareness that she did.

There was a moment of silence, one which Delita wasn’t sure what to do with. He still felt uneasy, desperate to distract himself from his current surroundings. Before he could muster up something to say, the girl had beaten him to it – though it wasn’t necessarily what he anticipated. It was a genuine attempt, though, and he appreciated that. This was something he could work with.

“The season is a generous one for odd jobs, as well. I’ve been taking up positions as farmhands, harvesters, errand-runners – you name it, I’ve done it. Luckily I’ve had enough opportunities to keep me afloat. That certainly wouldn’t be the case in the colder months,” he said, nodding to her. He didn’t normally divulge very much about himself to others, preferring to keep it to small niceties and then move on before the conversation could get any more involved. But for once since arriving there, it felt good to share a tidbit of his life with someone other than Tietra. 

The service itself began, and Delita steeled himself for the words of religious wisdom, the preaching, all the things he avoided. He fidgeted in his seat before looking over at the girl beside him. He knew that this wasn’t just a service for her; this was her job, but he still felt the urge to invite her out to get some air. If he were to only stick around the church and return before the service ended, then Teta would be none the wiser and he could return with her to the convent. 

As quietly as possible, Delita leaned slightly down and whispered, “To be completely honest, I feel stifled in here. I’m going to breathe in some fresh air and stroll the garden just outside. Should you feel inclined to join me, I wouldn’t be upset about it.”

So as not to draw attention to himself, Delita quietly slipped away from the pews, letting himself out the door. Whether or not she followed, he was glad for the space from the entire event. If she did accompany him, however, Delita found himself looking forward to a chance to speak to her more.

Skip the service? Why, the thought of it alone was blasphemy for someone serving the convent, let alone the royal family. Yet the thought of it alone filled her whole body with exhilaration. If she were caught, the punishment- well, she didn’t even know what that would be! All she ever did was what was expected of her but to sneak out of the service and with a stranger no less? She allowed herself an internal argument for just a brief moment. Being part of the royal family meant you were to make decisions and to be firm, did it not? No one respected a weak-kneed ruler. Rather, that was what she was telling herself in attempts to convince her anxieties that this was okay. 

A swift glance as he walked out, his voice replaying in her mind. He didn’t seem too bothered by her awkward conversation either, while she stumbled with words he replied with ease. It comforted her. Excited her. An adventure, albeit a very small one, in her favorite spot in all of the convent. To her this was similar to crossing mountains and seas. Ovelia picked herself up quietly, following him like a mouse scurrying off with small crumbs. 

If she was good like the other sisters, she would have half the mind to lecture him. Lecture herself. Yet Ovelia chose to see this as an opportunity, they say God lets everything happen for a reason, all a part of his plan... That, and he was forgiving. The breeze between the arches hit her face when she made it out of the church, gentle and reassuring. Reminding her that this very moment was real, that it was no dream. 

Clasping her hands infront of her she continued to study him, trailing behind with her gaze never breaking. This very moment, she didn’t want to forget, it would replay in her mind before she slept. The way the spring sun would hit his back when it peaked between the arches. The color of his hair and how it moved with the gentle wind. The sound of their steps as the walked to the garden. 

The main reason that Delita attended prayer was for Teta’s sake. His sister, more shy and demure than Delita himself was, wanted to attend but felt too skittish to do it alone. Unable to ignore her sincere, simple request for accompaniment, Delita agreed to be with her there. In truth, all he wanted to do was crash on his bed. The day had sucked all the energy out of him, which was already a small reserve to begin with. Every day, Delita felt as though he was constantly attempting to catch up on rest, but inevitably his sleep would be restless. This place was too foreign and his mind was too burdened. His work hours, when they existed at all, were lengthy and arduous. It was nowhere near reliable enough for Delita to feel stable. Though he and his sister were getting by, he wondered when it would finally feel easier. These weren’t things he would ever speak aloud, lest he make enemies of the people currently housing him, or offend Teta. Their parents had been their own brand of faithful, finding a spirituality that made them feel closer as a family. It never felt like a show, and it never felt like an obligation. Perhaps that part of Delita died along with them. For Teta, her faith didn’t waver in the face of their death. It only seemed to strengthen, granting her a form of comfort that nothing else seemed to. Delita almost envied it. He wondered why he couldn’t see things more similarly to his sister.

Following the line of people in through the church doors, Delita scanned the room and found that the pews were packed. It only heightened the discomfort he felt. After a moment, he saw Teta waving to someone who sat near the front. She turned to Delita, smiling shyly.

“I know I requested your company here today, but would you be very angry if I sat up front with Florens? She’s been kind to me and we have a lot in common.”

Teta looked a little guilty for dragging Delita to the church only to sit elsewhere, but he didn’t mind. He didn’t truly mind doing anything for his sister. She was all he had. She was all that mattered.

“Go on, I insist. I’ll find you after the service,” he promised, reassuring her with a smile. She returned it, and then happily made her way up the aisle.

This left Delita at the back of the room, where he shuffled uncomfortably until he spotted an empty space in the pew closest to the door. There were only a few other people sitting there, some already bowing their heads in prayer. When he sat down, Delita looked to his right and spotted a young woman there. She was younger than at least half of the attendees in the church; probably around his age. It was a relief to be near someone he felt he had at least an age bracket in common with.

Delita stayed quiet for a moment, unsure whether it was too improper to speak to her during the service. Throwing caution to the wind, he looked over to her.

“This is only my third time visiting the church during a service, but I can’t recall it being quite this crowded those times,” he said, keeping his voice low. He wasn’t even sure if the woman would reply to him, but he felt the need to distract himself and continue speaking. “My sister, Tietra, is seated at the front with a friend. She requested my presence here and yet…” he left off, laughing.

After a beat, Delita sighed, sitting slightly more forward nervously rolling his sleeves to his elbows.

“I apologize for my restlessness. This is still new territory for me. I’m sure you didn’t arrive here today thinking that a stranger would ramble to you and interrupt your prayer,” he said sheepishly, still wearing a smile.

Perhaps sitting in the back was a bad idea after all, quelling her inner thoughts became harder in the silence. Sitting closer to the front would have pulled her attention. The church as quiet as it could be with murmurs of prayer being offered up to God only mad her more lost in thought. In a daze she hadn’t noticed the young man take a seat in the same pew until she heard soft laughter come from him. It pulled her from her anxious trance and she offered a smile in return of his laughter- too shy to ask him to repeat fully what he said. She picked up some remnants from what he spoke.

Ovelia’s rolled the hem of her sleeve between her thumb and index finger. When he spoke to her, it was rather informal which took her by pleasant surprise. Brown eyes blinked in wonder as he spoke. Did he not know who she was? Was not so uncommon, the convent was rather far from the royal palace and the occasional person who knew nothing of her would casually speak to her. Heart pattering and climbing it’s way to her throat, these conversations made her heart swell with joy. For just a moment should could play pretend like a child would. Such a thought could make her laugh most little girls pretended to be a princess and she would pretend she was not one. Right now she was not Princess Ovelia, though it wasn’t as if she weren’t proud of that identity, she could be her. So often she was a Princess she often wondered who really was Ovelia.

 “It has become quite energetic here.” Ovelia agreed in a whisper so soft as to not bring attention to this rare moment. Her eyes glanced over and examined the young man next to her. “It’s no bother to me. I think it would not surprise you that I spend most my day offering prayer so- no, I do not mind.”

Silence fell between the two, the awkward kind one could cut with a blade. The blonde, rarely often engaging in casual conversation, never knew what it was people talked about in their daily lives. In her mind she jostled around different topics the sisters would speak about. Mostly religion, how those who would stay here should turn to God. While she was thoroughly devoted to God, she knew He was not always the most thrilling conversation for all. 

“Ah... The season has been kind to us has it not? The weather has been so gentle and perfect for nature to grow.” She could feel her cheeks burning. Oh God, did she just give the awkward equivalent to ‘How’s the weather out there?’ She felt as if she could die and God could take her up right now. They could even have someone give a eulogy.

‘What a horrible conversation starter, Ovelia. You were put through so many teachings for etiquette, for conversation.’ Scolding herself mentally blonde felt herself shrinking in her seat.

Spring had over taken the convent. While life inside these walls became such a blur, it was spring that offered the brief respite that Ovelia so desperately craved. The ever changing colors of the garden offered her a new view, ever changing in their life cycle. Poppies as red as jam, the hydrangeas a blue so soft they reminded her of the clouds above her. The garden was a perfect place to sneak away, even for just a moment. 

In this garden it was just her and the lush nature. They paid her no mind and she could be, what she assumed to be, just her- just Ovelia. Not Princess Ovelia. Not your Highness. Alone and so far away from it all, if the other’s in the convent didn’t constantly hover over her she’d also not think herself royalty when in this garden. Though who was she to complain? This was the most of her ‘duty’. 

Stay here, study, help at convent wherever it was needed. What made her so different that she alone was sent away? Oh, how she wished the flowers could speak to her. Maybe then she would get an honest answer. Kneeling down beside a small patch of daisies her fingers ghosting over the petals. Knowing that even if she were to never truly know why she found comfort in knowing that this was something she could do to protect Ivalice. At least it was what she had told herself.

A few moments pass next to the daises, silent except for the occasional whisper of the wind. Her ‘break’ had ended, she knew she was expected to go back for prayer and if not someone would surely be sent to find her eventually. Picking herself up and a soft pat to remove any dirt on her dress Ovelia made her way into the halls of the convent. Usually it would only be her foot steps she would hear in echoing with each step, but to deny that things in Ivalice’s air was changing was to use a feeble crutch of bliss. While the princess may be confined within the walls she was not deaf. The sisters who lived beside her shared hushed whispers of rumors from those who traveled to the convent. 

Ovelia herself chose to ignore them and throw herself into the work. While those around her might call her ignorant, it was the job of the royal family to help calm and quell the peoples’ fears. How strong is a country if the ones who rule it shake and tremble at the slightest rumor? 

Since! I am going to try this out again I am going to treat it like I am 100% new. So... I apologize in advance but you’re going to see promo posts sometime in the future, haha. 

But- if I’m going to treat it like I’m new, a small intro! 

Ummmm hi!

I’m really bad at starting these awkward convos lmao so I’ll just dive right in! I’m not sure WHO is still on their account but hope you’re staying safe and well.

If you don’t remember me that’s fine, I rped my main muse, Ritz on viera-blessed but I cannot remember the login to save my life so ówò I was inspired to come back and write for ritz but until I can find that login maybe I’ll float around here. I haven’t used tumblr in years and in case I go awol again I do have twitter!! It’s bloompho! Or there’s insta: senkusakii!

Just because I know I had a lot of people I used to talk to and I’d like to maybe start doing that again now that I have the time and inspo to be around!