rien n'est éternel

"Those are precious words, sister. Of greater value to me than all the rings and bracelets across all the worlds, I can only hope that they may be true. That Nil should agree with even a fraction of that statement and take pride in knowing me."

Humility, one might say of the Fell Heir who had spared no effort, no ounce that he'd ever owned, in bringing Nil's dying wish to fruition. What pride might Nil possibly withhold or fail to feel for someone who had given him all? But, still Rafal hoped.

But, even then, Rafal in truth hoped for even less. That Nil should exist in some farfetched and imaginable way, that no matter how immaterial his form, no matter how faraway, somewhere a youth too gentle for Gradlon bore witness to a land where his anachronistic kindness was upheld as proud standard. Important that he did; that he learned of a place where his true self would not be shunned, and where he would not be condemned an even greater failure than Rafal.

After all, that Child, born to the wrong era, would have flourished here.

He would have suited his black uniform - charmed the whole of Garreg Mach with his undefeated cheer and boyish good looks. He would have trained himself to the brink of exhaustion that he might catch up with his siblings and betters. Studied and struggled and gloried, making few enemies and many more friends. He would have shed tears of joy as Nel did now, or perhaps brooded over his failures like Rafal no matter how salvageable or great. Perhaps.

( . . .just, perhaps. )

"My father travels quite a bit. It is not something I have had the opportunity to indulge in myself yet, but I would like to some day, to see all that there is to see in this world."

Mm. A complicated answer, certainly. "It is a long story, and perhaps one difficult to explain to those who have not experienced it themselves, but I traveled here from Elyos-- though it is not my place of birth. My brother arrived before I did, and is a fellow professor of the Black Eagles." She'd offered a description of her own family, hadn't she? It's only fair to return the favor. "Perhaps you have met him. We are similar in stature, though his hair is an ivory in direct opposition to my own. I have been told that we both appear to frown quite a bit; it is not my intention to do so." It might be Rafal's, she has no intention of saying.

It is not worth asking. If it proves to be true, it will be a present surprise for later. "I do not know your brother." Her description sparks no noteworthy memory. If they had passed in the halls, then it was an inconsequential meeting, not worth remembering. "Nor would I bother to think of him if the conversation concerns only you. It is a terrible thing to only be considered noteworthy by the existence of another. That without its roots / cannot stand without support / and is forgotten."

She might be guilty of the same, of course, but it has never been by her own volition that others seek to tie her constantly to her father's reputation. Best to remove the bandage before the wound can fester. Mitama shrugs and picks up her tea cup again. "My father's identity is by no means a great secret. If you wanted to know who specifically, you needed only to ask." She really does wish that this tea was sweeter. "I will spare you the trouble of having to wrack your brains with further thought. Professor Azama is my father."

Now that she thinks about it, this is likely the closest she's ventured to the Goddess Tower since arriving at the monastery. The students generally had their little tales to go along with its significance, but Nel herself had no intention of sneaking onto the premises when its legends centered around affections unspoken-- now, though, with her hand in his, it seems like she's playing the role of a smitten teenager as they duck into the shadows as the guard moves past the two of them. She wants to laugh at his reaction, her other hand covering her mouth to stifle the reaction. There's a better way to do this. Across the walkway, she can spot the higher wall that leads into an open bay window-- her fingers tap on his shoulder as means of encouraging him to follow as she quickly drags him along. It's laughably easy to use her strength to hop just high enough to grab the ledge with one hand, letting go of his in order to haul herself up and over. Only a few seconds pass before her head peeks over with a smile, reaching down to offer him her hand. It's a simple enough endeavor to assist in lifting him up as well, easily out of sight of that lingering guard that would likely make another round through the grounds. A huff of effort is all she spares once they're both on even footing again, lithe fingers immediately finding his-- as if she'd hated even the scant seconds they'd been apart. She had, of course, but there's no reason to voice it. "I can see why students attempt to frequent this area." It's private, moonlight casting long shadows across the stone floors; there's stairs that lead upwards from what she can spot, but even here has a beautiful view of mostly clear skies. "This is... a first for me. I had no interest in exploring, initially." Well.. "At least, not until you came along." A light chuckle follows, brow arched as she glances over at him. "Fortunate, am I not?"

Light fingers tap along his shoulder, the only warning he gets before she pulls him along. Laslow follows willingly, as he so often does. There's never any hesitation on his part. Perhaps it's a little pathetic--he just wants to be wherever she is.

He releases her hand with no small amount of reluctance. Lips part in surprise as she disappears over the wall, pulling herself up with the same ease he flips through the air during a dance. Nel's smiling face pops into view; he grins back on instinct, all incredulity and love and incandescent joy.

Their palms connect again; gravity momentarily abandons him, and then he's once more at Nel's side. "Well," Laslow says, breathless, "I never realize quite how strong you are!" He entwines their fingers with a little laugh. "Thank you."

He gives an absent nod. For once, he's not paying attention to their surroundings. Moonlight casts Nel in shades of silver and blue. She looks ethereal; something out of a fairy tale, glowing from within.

Her gaze turns expectant, the echoes of her laugh fading around them, and he realizes she's asked him something. "Ah, forgive me, my darling! Can't blame me for getting distracted when you look like a painting." His voice grows softer. "Lady Fate has smiled upon both of us, indeed. Shall we?"

It's his turn to lead her; with measured steps, they ascend the staircase. Empty tree branches stand watch beyond the windows, hiding Laslow and Nel away from the world. They emerge onto the rooftop a short while later, the low railing surrounding it offering them a nearly unobstructed view of the Academy grounds.

"Typically, I'm no fan of heights, but I don't mind this," he comments, though he does stick close to Nel's side. Just to ease that flicker of anxiety curling in his stomach.

Nerves of a different origin turn his palms clammy. He swallows them down, hoping she can't feel the way his pulse has quickened. "Ah, Nel....there's something I'd like to ask you."

Laslow faces her fully, briefly catching her eyes before settling on staring at the space between her eyebrows. "You are someone I've grown to cherish deeply. You're compassionate, witty, kindhearted...and rather strong, heh," he adds, if only to dispel his nerves. "That is, my heart dances whenever we're together, and it would be foolish if I never told you the depth of my feelings. After all, who knows what tomorrow shall bring, eh?"

The squeeze she gives his hand is a silent reassurance: should you fall, I will catch you without fail. Should you step within harm’s way, I will shield you— body or soul.

Who knows what tomorrow will bring?

A being who has lived for thousands of years cannot begin to decipher what could unfold even hours from now; the ways in which fate can bend in even a second’s beat is something that goes hand in hand with life’s precious value. They are both here today— and she thinks she’s come to a conclusion on her own as he speaks soft words that kindle embers in her heart into a raging fire.

Her hands are calloused, always meant to be tools for war. With every moment that passes in his presence, after thousands of years, Nel believes— wants— yearns to grow. To use those same wearied hands for gentler pursuits, to use them to heal in the same way that he does.

To use them to love. To use them to gently cup his cheek when that question comes, even as her eyes widen and every ounce of breath leaves her lungs.

She doesn’t answer, because she knows that words aren’t enough. There’s no term in the language they share for how readily she will offer her heart to him— once before, she’d known that should he ask for her hand, she will give it. Should he ask for her heart, she will give it. Should he ask for the stars, she would take flight and give the noblest effort to bring them back to him.

When her lips meet his, it’s a manner of answer in and of itself. The smile that curves against him is wide enough to make her cheeks hurt, arms winding around his neck to close whatever distance remains between them. It’s not close enough, it’s never enough— but it will do for now.

She breaks away just long enough to whisper a “yes”, her forehead resting against his. The familiar prick of tears at her eyes is embarrassing, surely, but ignored in favor of her words. Even if her voice is thick with the effort of swallowing. “Yes. I will say it as many times as it is needed. Yes.”

Tomorrow will be a time for reflection and recognition of what this entails— tonight, a moment to feel alive, and a moment to love in the way she’s always been meant to.

Lips part to offer something, anything--an apology, a backtrack, a half serious quip that he'll jump off the Tower and never speak to her again--when she kisses him sweetly. Shocked, he doesn't reciprocate until her palms leave his face and her arms are wrapping around his neck.

Returning her kiss is as easy as breathing. His hands flutter lightly atop her hips, like even now, he can't quite believe this isn't a dream. She pulls back; streaked in moonlight, dark eyes glittering with too many emotions to name, she is a dream.

Laslow can't hear past the roaring in his ears. He sees her lips move. Smiles a little stupidly as his hearing returns in time to catch the last half of her sentence.

“Yes.” Moving from his ear, she presses another kiss to his cheek.

“Yes,” Softer this time, a kiss pressed to the tip of his nose.

“Yes-“ And then, finally, it’s a perfect fit for her to gently press their lips together— even as she laughs into their embrace. By the time she pulls away, her eyes sparkle with a million different emotions… but most importantly: unrestrained love and affection. Perhaps those words can’t be said in this particular moment, but her heart swells with the feeling of fondness.

“Does that satisfy you?” Murmured in the scant space between them, Nel’s arms loosen only slightly— they’re alone here, thankfully, and it enables her to bury her face in the crook of his neck without prying eyes. “I have no qualms convincing you further.”

Pulling away is the hardest thing she’s done tonight, but she immediately takes both of his hands in hers. How funny it is that their hands intertwine in a flawless manner that suggests that maybe they had been made for each other.

“Thank you, Laslow. This night… I will never forget.”

It’s been long, and there’s been so many things to do— now, however, she’s more concerned about throwing herself into her own bed and falling asleep. Recharging after this will take plenty of time, and….

“Leave with me? I do not want…. to part just yet.”

(Heart on full display, walls carefully deconstructed. How deadly his love is to her, and he isn’t even aware.)

@laslow

She whistles quietly as she approaches Nel, tapping the other woman on the arm with her wrist as she offers her one of the two champagne flutes with a smile - bright, but not put on.

"Sooo, how'd the outfit end up working for ya?" Nel looks good, in her opinion. The suit look definitely suits her. "Any complaints? I'll be sure to remember them for next time so we can find ya something better."

And now, the far less important but also still relevant question. Yunaka wags her eyebrows playfully as she lifts her glass. "aaaand, what does your date think?"

"Oh, Laslow?" Huh...you know, that's a surprise, but also makes total sense. "Yeah, I know him. He asked me out when I was teaching the Lions back when I first got here. So he asked you this time, huh?"

That had been...messy. Mostly because of her own baggage and stuff more than anything Laslow had actually done, but it had still spooked her a little with how fast everything seemed to have happened. She still kinda felt bad for trampling all over things like that back then, but it was good to know he'd managed to move on, at least.

Nel plows on like she doesn't care much about the subject, so Yunaka just shrugs and sips at her second glass. She finds it hard to imagine that Nel wouldn't have known his reputation before agreeing to something like this, so she must not be bothered or worried by it. She certainly gave off that impression.

“I see. When we spoke at the Goddess Tower, he did mention his tendency to… flirt, I suppose.” That was a part of the conversation she nearly missed, too enthralled with everything else spoken between them. “I do not believe he will do anything questionable.”

Was it even wise to mention the Goddess Tower? She wasn’t entirely aware of all the rumors and significance of it as a whole, but Nel knew vaguely that it was associated with romance.

Nobles’ tastes. That draw a huff of laughter from her, elbow resting on the arm of the couch. By birthright, she too is royalty— with no land to lead and no land to claim. Maybe that’s for the better, considering what she’s observed here.

“You are correct. Too many sweets, not enough other things. Mauvier did show me chili oil— it is the only thing I have enjoyed tonight.”

"That is for you to find out. Fortunately, at this height that ought to be possible."

Behold, then said Rafal across an anticipatory look. He need not gesture, need not utter, only direct his gaze downwards in the direction. Ask and so he had received - from her, from him, from them. Procured at the behest of Rafal who spared no effort in his mission to collect an eden's worth of blossoms, so amassed for such individuals who had given for one reason or another.

This was that fruit:

As two otherworldly dragons looked on, an ethereal realm of flowers gazed back. Blooms of all kinds perched upon every spire and roof within reach of the eye; at times a colorful makeshift weather vane, at others a wreath or embellishment upon tile, in the end the lifelike replication of a meadow where a meadow ought not be. Magic, as it were, on both that front and another; that beneath the stolid witness of the night sky, these cheery pops of color seemed only to emulate the mystical.

"I readied these preparations shortly before our arrival. It took no effort to fly from roof to roof with the great advantage of a dragon's form." Who else might be capable of scattering blooms overnight ubiquitously and without detection? A mischievous, totally self-satisfied smile tugged at his lips. "—Of course, this spectacle will be sure to draw attention come the morning when it is discovered. And, naturally, there will be those who do not approve of such an unsanctioned and vandalizing display."

In the morning, there would doubtless be no shortage of speculations toward this mysterious sight. Only Nel and Rafal might understand that it was no mystery at all. At best, perhaps the most clever of minds might form a theory or two, at the curious dragon who'd fluttered in all seeming directions across the whole of the Ethereal Ball.

"Nevertheless, even if only for a night, I hope it will remain untouched."

Nevertheless, he observed the stars, appeared only to admire their light, then turned his attention beyond them with a fathomless affection transcending this plane. 'Someone who would never appreciate, never be able to repay', yet was honored regardless; the same stars looked on with silent apathy, but between them existed a dragon-child's kindly traces, lost between worlds yet found forever in the sky that stretched above these worlds all.

"... I believe he would have loved you. Unconditionally. Just as you do him."

Leaning to the side, her head rests against the slope of his shoulder; there's no place in the world she'd rather be, and Nel's hand finds his own to rest on top of it. Always a perfect fit, always a grounding comfort no matter the circumstances. "Thank you, Rafal. Nil can see them, I am certain. He would have pressed them anyways-- if only to preserve the sentiments you have sent to him tonight." To live as Fell Dragons in a peaceful world, to abandon the fight for survival... "You have made my greatest wish come true, and you are not even aware of it."

"if i may, professor?" dorothea's gloved hands brush the front of her skirts, smoothing out the fabric before she adjusts herself in a manner that takes on an air of earnestness. "it's true that you're far more experienced than i am when it comes to a great deal of things. but when it comes to relationships, let's just say i'm no amateur."

a sympathetic gaze holds nel's.

Such words are difficult to hear, yet also something that causes her heart to hammer at a rapid pace. She can feel the heat creeping up her neck, and for once, Nel doesn't find that she despises it. However... She remembers the sting of grief when blue wildflowers bloomed across the gardens of the Somniel, even after her Divine Dragon had fallen in battle-- how each and every one only brought back the memory of them sharing the sight together, and how gentle he had been when handling them. Eventually, centuries later, they had all crumbled into ash, returned to the soil that had once helped them grow. Each and every one, she watched fade into grey. As if slowly, that Divine One was getting further and further away from her reach. Even now, there are days she startles awake with the memory of their fingers interlocked in the pinky promise to return home-- and even now, sometimes it hurts so badly that she thinks that perhaps someone had stabbed her in the middle of the night. In Laslow, she sees the same kindness-- but he is his own person, and Nel dare not compare the two of them. He is a perfect reminder of the happiness that once ruled her life... and maybe, just maybe, she won't be doomed to be consumed by that gut wrenching agony. When his hand covers hers so perfectly, she remembers what it feels like: To love.

"... I do." More than he will ever know, more than she could ever put into words. She's never done things in half-measures, and despite the harshness she's been forced to adopt... "I do. Perhaps he will only exist for a portion of my life span, but I believe those years will never once leave my memory."

And with rucked brows so he did. Reminded all at once that such would rule as sacrosanct among Fell Dragon twins: give and take, protect and be protected, speak and silence, each in turn and in perfect proportion to the other. The smooth Nel and dentate Rafal, both harmonious and contrasting; commensurate as two pieces broken off the same dragonstone, and when shone beneath light, just as different. An inviolable system between two halves of a whole, of course - therefore, an uncontested one. And, after all is said but not yet done between them?

Before Nel's caged posture, all her now-freed revelations, his fury waned to a sleepy smolder. His fire to disappear as if one with the crisp night air alongside his darkness and demands. What remained was the younger's contrite expression, the reminder that such a thing as terror even following the visitation of Nel's once and former end had never been Rafal's to feel alone.

"It appears I have spoken selfishly and behaved more than unjustly." He looked askance, appropriately scolded though Nel did not—need not—say a word. "Ruled by emotion, I demanded for answers you were not prepared to give. Your misgivings on this matter were those I failed utterly to consider. My angry approach was unwarranted. For these, I would apologize."

Rafal shook his head with a sway of soft downy fringe. Upon the conclusion of this movement, all semblance of sharp and formidable edge briefly returned - coalesced in a long, meaningful stare. "—However, my concern remains. But as the time for such talk is unsuitable, as you say, we will spare it for the future. Its hour will come."

Threat; promise; both. Accompanying this return to the Fell Heir's usual pointy comportment was also the return to a specially bejeweled night. A trip to the very apex of the Goddess Tower made for one reason and one reason only. Relinquishing his hostile effects, the paler dragon drew nearer to the roof's boundary where he seated himself with one leg packed toward his chest and the other dangling off the edge. He directed an inviting look at Nel, then for greater measure:

"Thank you professor." The words are devoid of emotion, a hollowness to them that he just can't seem to fight off for the moment. Still he takes the towel, and does his best to dry off his sleeve. For a moment he clenches it, wondering if he should just leave.

Yet he was already a weakling once tonight.

Instead he raises his gaze, meeting those crimson eyes before giving her that same bitter smile. "I must commend you. Twice tonight you have now aided me. Despite what happened..."

The laugh that escapes is bitter. "Surely at some point you must realize such things aren't worth the effort? I must say, compared to last time a dragon influenced me, you have a much different way of going about it."

Just his own nightmares catching up to him, reminding him of his weakness.

"I know many who may disagree with you about what I deserve. In fact I think I danced with one or two of them tonight." Now the smirk returns, only a bit more subdued. Still he moves from the wall, and lets out a sigh.

"Professor. Not tonight, but some time soon... I would like to have a more honest conversation with you. About not only what happened before, but also an explanation on my part. I have told you some, but not everything. Explain myself, at the very least."

Part of him couldn't believe he was even offering this. Yet at the same time, perhaps it would be good. After all, at least revealing the truth would give them both a reason to never interact. Though the idea of Nel looking at him with the same disdain as any Deliverance member was painful...

She whistles quietly as she approaches Nel, tapping the other woman on the arm with her wrist as she offers her one of the two champagne flutes with a smile - bright, but not put on.

"Sooo, how'd the outfit end up working for ya?" Nel looks good, in her opinion. The suit look definitely suits her. "Any complaints? I'll be sure to remember them for next time so we can find ya something better."

And now, the far less important but also still relevant question. Yunaka wags her eyebrows playfully as she lifts her glass. "aaaand, what does your date think?"

"Have you done everything you wished to this evening? I cannot say I have seen you often- but my eyes do not catch everything that happens." Not to mention, there's plenty of more secluded haunts around the monastery better suited to quieter conversations. Haunts she'd been in herself, she neglects to say. "I do not intend to spend the entirety of the night at my partner's side, nor would I expect him to either."

"Mmm. It's less about being domineering and more..."

Well, nobody wants to feel like they're overstaying their welcome, do they? Yunaka is used to being alone, but she's never liked it.

She shrugs and waves it off. It doesn't actually matter. Everyone having a good time, that's what matters, and she's not about to dim anybody's evening by talking about how she can never quite shake the feeling of being the odd one out.

She's much more interested in the high praise Nel heaps on somebody she's never talked about before. It figures she would, she doesn't seem like the type to entertain people just cause they asked her to, but she's surprised she's never even heard a hint or a whisper about this guy before.

"Sounds like a dream." Or a nightmare, depending on your personal preferences. "Anybody I know?"

Has she done everything? "...dunno." Yunaka shrugs and sips some more of the champagne. "Never thought I'd actually attend one of these properly, you know? I always had a job to focus on when I went in the past, so I never really got to think about what to do."

No; what he desired most was a means of denial, a path by which he might tread backwards and renounce this all. Confirmation from Nel herself that all he'd seen and heard could be consigned to mere misunderstanding. A selfish, self-soothing, hopeful attempt to shirk all acceptance of the unbelievable; the unacceptable.

"You did not think it worthy of note?"

At last came his piece. Delicate nostrils flared on an inch of frustration, then several more as he waved his hand through the air like he might banish the disbelief that permeated the space around him. "This is an unprecedented decision. Your time in this land has amounted to little more than a year, need I remind, and already you accept the invitation of a human? Do not take me for a fool, sister. You think him special. You favor him!"

What upheaval amidst their difficult lives, that Rafal might lecture the elder who had once spared no effort in reprimanding the course of her destructive and too-sacrificing younger brother; but, perhaps, between two halves of equal standing, this were ultimately no upheaval at all. At present, stormy eyes blazed before Nel. He could not deny that he perceived it as a betrayal, to know of such significant news from the mouth of another over his own sister, but mixed within that concoction of hurt was—

Arms crossed over her chest, the chill that runs down her spine isn't borne from the crisp, frigid air of winter. Instead, it's apprehension that digs its claws into her, refusing to release its grip even when she clears her throat to ensure the lump there doesn't get a chance to fully form. "The difficulty does not arise in regards to the man in question. Professor Laslow has shown nothing but good character- if anything, this matter would have long since been resolved were I..." Braver? No, that's not entirely right. "... It is too early for me to have told you. You know well enough that this is not a simple topic for me-- there is hesitation that remains in the form of... fear, I suppose. Fear that history will repeat itself should I allow myself to lower my guard. It is why I have not made you aware of this matter yet, not out of a desire to betray or hide, but simply because speaking it into existence is terrifying beyond my ability to describe." Her knuckles run white with the squeeze she has on her own bicep, though the sting quickly reminds her to lessen her grip. That thought alone has her blood turning to ice, but she quickly shakes her head as a means of grounding herself. "Tonight is not the night for this conversation. You have my word, Rafal, we will speak more in depth soon. It is something that comes with positive feelings, but also others not so easily dredged up from the past."

She whistles quietly as she approaches Nel, tapping the other woman on the arm with her wrist as she offers her one of the two champagne flutes with a smile - bright, but not put on.

"Sooo, how'd the outfit end up working for ya?" Nel looks good, in her opinion. The suit look definitely suits her. "Any complaints? I'll be sure to remember them for next time so we can find ya something better."

And now, the far less important but also still relevant question. Yunaka wags her eyebrows playfully as she lifts her glass. "aaaand, what does your date think?"

"Honestly, I think I gave you the better outfit outta the two of us." Her dress is cute and all, but when Yunaka shifts her weight onto one foot to hold the other out in front of her, she's sure Nel can see what she means. "My feet are killing me. Don't tell anybody though." She winks playfully, then goes for a sip of her glass. "Can't let people know this look isn't flawless."

The tights help in covering up a lot of her scars, and the ones on her hands and arms...well, people have seen them by now. No sense hiding those.

"My night's pretty uneventful. Not that it's not fun, but it feels a little awkward trying to find people to do stuff with without feeling like you're monopolizing their time, y'know?" Lapis and Alcryst obviously don't want a third wheel, and she feels bad hanging off of Diamant all night, not to mention she's not even sure where Rafal is right now.

"Have you done everything you wished to this evening? I cannot say I have seen you often- but my eyes do not catch everything that happens." Not to mention, there's plenty of more secluded haunts around the monastery better suited to quieter conversations. Haunts she'd been in herself, she neglects to say. "I do not intend to spend the entirety of the night at my partner's side, nor would I expect him to either."