where angels fear to tread

Ares snorts (another way he and Tencendur are far too much alike), but quirks half a smile at her comment. 

“If he likes you, then yeah. He is.” 

Lene’s hand is curling toward her hip, and he bites his cheek to keep his smile from widening. She’s so obvious. 

“You can pet him, now that you won’t surprise him. He really likes his neck stroked.” 

Ares had been doing just that, absentmindedly, but he steps aside to give Lene space to do the same, if she wants. For all her talk of “big and smelly” Tencendur is gorgeous even before Ares’s careful grooming, and his coat is shiny and soft.  

“He’s almost like a dog about attention. I think it’s because he was neglected so.” Ares keeps his voice soft. It still makes him furious if he dwells on it.

After flashing an exaggerated albeit appreciative smile at Ares, she takes his place and addresses the stallion once more in the same pleasant voice as before.

“Awful big for a dog, aren’tcha?” 

The patient advance of her hand belies anticipation. It comes as a surprise when a few caresses of Tencendur’s coat prove to be softer than she expects with smoothness akin to velvet.

“Well, he’s lucky to have you now,” she asserts promptly. Ares was neglected too in his own way by Jabarro as far as Lene is concerned, but she doesn’t feel like bringing that up now. He’s learned the truth, the hard way. Besides, they’ve begun a new journey with better company towards a better cause. 

“I thank you, but how you learned yields little effect on how you dance, if you ask me. There’s nothing wrong with being self taught, and your wonderful dance was very much proof of that.”

Another desert? Tethys was already intrigued, even more so. “I see…Yes, it’s my homeland. Also a desert…seems we’ve danced on similar sands, hm?”

A smile spread across the width of her face, cheeks warming from the praise. Compliments from friends were always appreciated, but to have those sentiments echoed by one of Tethys’ skill were another thing entirely. “Thanks for saying that. My mother was is a dancer. I get it from her, I think. I still have a long way to go though. Your turns are so seamless.” 

Seliph let Lene guide them through the dance, beaming the entire time. She made it seem so easy, but Seliph knew if he had any other partner, he would probably look like a fish out of water, especially if they tried to spin him (or worse, the other way around). 

He took a chance and carefully dipped Lene. He may be the farthest thing from the best dancer, but he can always rely on his own physical strength. “I’m glad,” he said through a chuckle. “You must be thriving out here, and surely everyone is mesmerized by your dancing.

“I’m having a good time, too. It’s nice being able to relax and enjoy myself at an event like this for once.”

Seliph is full of surprises— the pleasant kind. He continually mystifies her by deviating from imposed expectations, then daring to surpass them in his own way. And she loves watching, waiting to see just how he’ll surprise them all next.

“Lord Seliph,” she gasps in delight. “How adventurous of you!” Steady hands resting at her back embolden Lene to follow up with a leg lift for added flair. “I hope so— else I’d be out of a job.”

“Self taught?”

 Perhaps it shouldn’t surprise her so much. There’s probably plenty of dancers that were in her position, if Jehannan bazaars and street corners were any indication. There was likely more dancers than there were teachers.

“My…that makes two of us, then.” Tethys smiles warmly, taking her hand and giving it a gentle shake. “My name’s Tethys…I don’t suppose you’re from Jehanna, are you?”

The other girl didn’t look it, but from the way she dressed and danced…

“Really, you too?” she remarks cheerily. “I’d have never guessed! I mean it. You’re quite good, Miss Tethys.”

Lene is expressive in the way performers should be and her face’s tells are still an act she is learning to fine-tune. Body language is telling. Handshakes alone can reveal much about a person. For example, she has inferred this Tethys is mature, deliberate even in thoughtfulness— she does not hesitate in eye contact and the gentleness of her shake is backed by confidence.

Seliph was happy to see a familiar face on the dance floor. “Good to see you, Lene!” he greeted her with a smile. Even though he was flustered by her when they first met, he’s since come to enjoy her bubbly presence. He took her hand and laughed gently. “I have to rely on the expert dancer to take the lead. I’m still learning.” He knew to be mindful of where his feet were, at least. “Are you enjoying yourself tonight?”

The smile is reciprocated instantaneously. “You’re in good hands, Lord Seliph!” she affirms, eager to help him let his hair down a bit. Festivals were just such an occasion where the well-deserved time off could revitalize the spirit.

He snorts just slightly at her question. 

“Quite the opposite of asocial, actually. If you let a stallion roam he’ll try to mate with all the mares, fight any other stallions he finds, and might pester the geldings too, just to prove himself. He has to be kept apart so he doesn’t cause trouble.” 

It’s a pain but it’s worth it for his strength and speed and aggression – and, Ares thinks, quietly even in his head as if wanting it too much will jinx it, for the foals he might be able to breed in some far-off, nebulous time of peace. Tencendur could have a family; a veritable army of perfect children.

Lene is tentative, but clearly not frightened as she approaches, hand steady, though Tencendur is almost twice her height. She always finds new ways to impress Ares. The apple is gone from her palm with a mighty chomp, swallowed in another, and Tencendur immediately snuffles her for more, shoving his nose into her front in a desperate search for pockets. This time Ares laughs in earnest, surprising himself, and pulls him back sternly by the bridle. 

“Behave!” 

Still, despite the lack of decorum, Tencendur didn’t snap his teeth or flick his ears back. Between Ares’s usual calm and Lene’s well-forced serenity, he seems quite at ease.

“You’re not hustling me again, are you?” Ares asks Lene. “About knowing horses? I think you’ve won him over already.”   

Apparently horses and people had more in common than she thought.

“Hey, now, those aren’t apples.” The sudden prodding is unexpected, but Ares is quick to reign in his mount. “Sorry, bud. ‘m all out. But I’ll bring more next time, okay?” She coos as if Tencendur has any conceivable concept of time and will understand her proffer. A handful of coin is a small price to pay in exchange for the opportunity to spoil her friends. Horses counted as friends - Ares had insisted on this fact whenever urged to make more.

She waits until Tencendeur has calmed before daring to move again. He’s anything but a kept pet yet some part of Lene feels the urge to reach out and pet him, though she refrains until she is told it is alright to attempt it.

“You’ll get better with practice– I did. Don’t worry about it. Bigger men than you have done the same and I’ve lived to tell the tale. ” She attempts to dispel concerns by waving them away with a hand. 

Corpul is a sweet boy Lene has learned after living under the same roof for the past few months. When their relation had come to light, General Hannibal did not hesitate to welcome Lene into his home and family. Not once in her life had she entertained the prospect of adoption, but he extends the offer all the same. Corpul is clever enough to at least try to mask his disappointment even if some part of him takes it as a personal slight on behalf of his caretaker. 

It’s for the best. She declines because she is hardly a child anymore, not in the way Corpul is. General Hannibal is as good a man as any and her little brother deserves a guardian who can provide for him all the opportunities she never had. Lene knows she will always be her mother’s daughter however many times they invite her to be a part of their happy little life in Thracia. Hannibal may be Corpul’s father, but he is not hers.

how i feel about your character in canon

i’m always sad to see good characters get killed off, but i appreciate her prpofound impact and the little references to her post-death (ie. henry/lissa). there’s a lot more i would’ve liked to know about her, more supports pre-amnesia, etc. with the addition of memory prisms in fe15 i feel like she could have benefited from one or two focused on her.

uh i’m not sure if it’s alright to refer to the MK by his name? but he’s a welcome addition to the world of valentia! i have to admit i wasn’t sure how to feel at first because of how celica’s story relies on her status as the sole survivor. however, i warmed up to him quickly. he’s a likeable guy and i think his potential outweighs any reservations i had. celica deserves the opportunities he allows her to let her guard down and know she isn’t shouldering all her burdens alone.

what i like about how you play your muse

Time slips away from her like grains of sand through her fingers. These days, Lene is still chasing phantoms across the continent while most of her friends have returned to their respective motherlands. Sylvia’s fate remains unknown, but if Lady Lachesis can show up in Agustria after all this time then maybe it isn’t wishful thinking that she too is out there in some remote corner of Jugdral…

In the meantime, accounts of Sylvia that her daughter managed to weasel out of the older generation are used to nurse the longing. Lene doesn’t believe in any grand fate not wrought by one’s own hand, but even she can’t deny feeling grateful for the circumstances that have reunited her with Corpul, a fortune the likes of which she had thought to be lost in war.

She sighs as she moves to massage her callused feet after they’ve had their day’s fill of practice. “I just don’t get you, Mother. I’m sure you had your reasons, but how… how could you separate us like that?” The idea is tossed around before she decides, for better or worse, she can’t make sense of it. If her parents truly believed she wasn’t safe with them, then why… why conceive yet another child… only to give him up as well. But it’s impossible to understand the motivations of a woman she’s never met so Lene pushes the thoughts away upon the arrival of company, a welcome distraction.