everlasting flight

*

Amira wondered, sometimes, what would happen if she ran away.

No warning, no goodbyes, no anything - she would simply leave and go far, far away, never to be seen or heard from ever again. It wouldn’t be easy, she knew, not when she was so easily recognizable now to almost everyone in the realm. She would have to do things like cut her hair, maybe even dye it a different color that wasn’t like her, and style it differently from what she was used to; she would have to change the way she dressed, and perhaps even the way she spoke, and she would have to keep a low profile, stay away from prying eyes. To use glamouring magicks would be easier and far more convenient, but she knew just how easily such things could be detected by a trained eye, and she would rather not arouse any suspicion.

She wondered where she would go, and where she would live. She didn't necessarily wish for an extravagant life, so perhaps just a little house would be enough, but it would have to be somewhere peaceful and quiet. The Steppe seemed like a good place to make a home, and she knew she could trust Cirina to help keep her identity a secret, too. She could have a little garden of her own, where she could grow flowers and even herbs and vegetables. Admittedly, though, she would first have to learn how to cook without burning the kitchen down, or she would end up starving.

She wondered, too, what she could do to earn a living. For a while, she had been entertaining thoughts of being a teacher, of how nice it would be to teach little kids how to read and write. Perhaps if she was able to alter her appearance enough, she could afford to do it without anyone recognizing who she was. It would be rewarding for sure, and it brought a smile to her face to think of young children learning their letters and numbers for the very first time.

Amira wondered, as well, how nice it would be if she could have Aymeric with her. It was something they discussed casually from time to time, after all, the two of them musing about the possibilities of retiring together in the future. She thought, fondly, of how wonderful it would be to have him at her side, neither of them bound by so much responsibility, just living their lives freely and without any worries. Perhaps they could even invite Estinien to join them, and he could teach her how to take care of sheep like he'd promised her.

Sometimes her thoughts went much further back in time, and she wondered what it would be like had she not joined the Scions nor even received Hydaelyn's blessing. She even let herself wonder, in her heart of hearts, how much different things would be had her parents lived, and what her life would be like had she met them, and been able to journey with them.

She wondered if she would even be able to take it, living such a life of peace when she had gotten so used to war. Once upon a time she had confided in Aymeric that she didn't want to fight anymore, and that she sometimes wished she had never been chosen by Hydaelyn, so that she wouldn't have to carry the burden of the realm's fate on her shoulders, and his smile had been rueful as he gazed at her and told her she couldn't have ever turned her back on the responsibility of saving the world. What hurt was that she knew he was right, and that even if she was given the chance to go back in time and choose differently, she would still walk down this same path, again and again.

*

There are words that have to be said, even though they’re already known. Words like “I love you,” and “I care about you,” and “I wish to be by your side, always,” can be fact, can be constant, can even be tiresome in their repetitiveness - but they have to be said, to remind, to convince.

“I love you,” Aymeric says for the first time in a letter, because Amira is an ocean away and he doesn’t know when or if he’ll ever see her again, and he has to let her know before he regrets never even trying. “I love you,” he says again when they are reunited in Ala Mhigo, because saying the words out loud is different from just writing them on paper, and his heart soars when she says them back. “I love you,” he says to her before the fighting begins, and he says it again afterwards when she’s back in his arms, beaten and bloody but safe and sound. “I love you,” he says over and over, whenever he is able to and in every way he can, with his lips and with his hands and with his very being, a constant reminder so that she never forgets.

“I love you,” he says in the middle of the night, when he’s laying next to her in bed and stroking her face, the feeling of her scales and her skin on the palm of his hand a confirmation that she’s real and that she’s right in front of him. Amira smiles in that shy manner of hers, as though saying that she knows even without him saying it, but she repeats the words anyway as she curls up against him, soft and lovely and warm. “I love you,” he says again as she falls asleep in his arms, and he tightens his hold on her as if it’s enough to make her stay.

“I love you” is the phrase Aymeric wishes he could tell her even when she’s gone, far away and in a different star that he can’t reach. Words like “Even when we are apart, you are always in my heart,” and “I will always wait for you, no matter how long it takes, and I will be there to welcome you home,” things that he’d already told her before, suddenly feel like things he’d never said, and there is a desperation in how much he wishes he could say them now. He wishes he could be with her, wishes he could tell her all these things and more - and yet she is not there, and he doesn’t know for sure when or even if she will ever return to him, and he is scared.

“I love you” are the words Aymeric wants to say when Amira is finally home, and she is standing before him hale and whole, looking almost exactly the same and yet completely different from when she vanished. “I love you” are the very words at the tip of his tongue when he looks at her, sees her turn her head to see him and smile; “I love you,” along with “I missed you, terribly” and “I have been praying, all this time, for the safe return of you and yours” and “I thought I would never see you again” and more, so much more that he’d kept inside him all this time.

Instead, “I love you” are the words that are unspoken this time, but are told nonetheless in the way he pulls her into his arms and holds her tight, like he never wants to let her go ever again. “I love you,” are the words that no longer need to be said, even if he still wants to, because they are already known; “I love you” are the words Amira wants to tell him, too, but are already easily conveyed in the way she wraps her own arms around him, clinging to him like a lifeline. “I love you” are the words unsaid between them, but radiate in every touch, every kiss, every sigh into each other’s lips, and for now, that is enough - more than enough, even, for the feeling is apparent without the need for it to be spoken.

*

It was so much harder to breathe when Light was filling every single part of your body, just barely consuming you completely. Amira hadn’t expected any less, but to feel it first-hand was way more difficult than she had thought. She was more than used to hiding the pain she felt, to smiling and insisting that she was fine even though she felt as though she could crumble at any moment, but this time it was hard to pretend. This time it took every single ounce of her effort to not give in to the pain that racked her whole being, right down to her very core, and that only made it all the more exhausting.

It didn’t help that with each breath she took, Emet-Selch’s voice echoed in her head, as if every single ache she felt wasn’t enough of a reminder already.

“You still retain your form and your senses...but you have all but become a sin eater.”

A living being warped by primordial light. She still had control of her mind now, for sure, but it wouldn’t take very long until she became like the rest, overcome with a mindless instinct to maim, to destroy, to kill.

“Whether you will it or no, your mere existence will serve to engulf the world in Light.”

Weakly, she slowly tugged the glove off one hand, looking down at the skin that had turned whiter than ever before, at the scales that had turned completely gold. Those on her face, as well as her horns, had begun to change color as well, but there was no point in bothering to hide it now, not when her friends already knew of her corruption. And yet that did nothing to hamper the shame she felt, did nothing to dissolve her desire to cover herself up completely and hide from them, so they wouldn’t have to look upon a failure like her.

She was supposed to be the Warrior of Light, wasn’t she? She was supposed to be able to handle this. Why couldn’t she be stronger? Why couldn’t she keep it together? Why - 

“Beating yourself up again, are you?”

The sound of Ardbert’s voice no longer startled her - it was a constant to her now, after all, a source of comfort whenever she felt as though she had sunk too low to get up on her own; if anything, not hearing him interject whenever she was feeling like this would’ve taken her by surprise. Relief washing over her at the welcome distraction, Amira turned to look at him with a smile, but felt herself freeze instead at the expression he wore - sad, concerned, pained, as though he could feel what she was feeling. Somehow, that look on his face hurt more than everything else.

“Sorry, it’s just… It’s hard to stop.” One would think that she should’ve gotten much stronger by now, after everything she’d faced to get to this point, and while she had certainly grown from the green adventurer of years past, sometimes she still felt like the child she had always been, fragile and weak. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath in an attempt to soothe her nerves, and instead winced at how the mere act felt like fire scorching her lungs. “It’s… It’s getting worse.”

He was the only one she could admit it to, and he knew it. He frowned as he looked at her, not wanting to say out loud that he could see it getting worse - her very being, almost overflowing with Light, fraying at the very seams. It felt as though a single touch would make her fall apart completely, body and soul shattering into nothing but dust, and it made a part of him glad that he was nothing more than a shade, that he couldn’t actually hold her and risk breaking her, losing her.

And yet…

And yet, there was another part of him that mourned it; a part of him that wished he could touch her, even just for a moment, to let her feel that he really was with her, to reassure her with even just a friendly pat on the back that he was right by her side no matter what. But there was nothing he could do about it, was there? He was a ghost, and no matter how much he willed it he would never be able to feel her, not even once. Had things been different, maybe...

“I’ll be okay,” Amira said before he could open his mouth again to speak. Ardbert looked at her and saw her smile, that smile he knew she wore when she wasn’t fine but insisted that she was anyway. He felt like objecting, but he knew that this was her way of trying to keep herself going. It wasn’t ideal, but it was what she did to keep herself from falling apart, and he couldn’t take that from her; after all, he knew better than anyone that this was what heroes did best, enduring and enduring and enduring because there was no one else that could get the job done but for them. No matter how much pain they felt, no matter how much suffering they went through, no matter how much they had to sacrifice of themselves to save those that needed them, they held on, and endured. “Just a bit more, I think, and it’ll be over… Besides, I’ve got you with me, don’t I?”

*

“I thought you said you were out of practice,” Aymeric mused, with a look of fascination on his face as he watched Amira play the piano. The instrument had been sitting unused in the Borel Manor’s parlor for many years, owing to the fact that the Lord Commander was far too preoccupied with way too many things to indulge in even just a bit of leisurely playing. From where she sat, Amira smiled modestly, her fingers pressing down with a delicate grace on the keys that felt familiar to her.

“I am still a bit rusty… It was only thanks to the concert we held at the Firmament that I managed to brush up my playing.” She remembered feeling rather embarrassed when Artoirel had excitedly presented her the new duet he had composed for her and Francel after she said she knew a little about playing the piano from her childhood, for it turned out to be more complex than most tunes she knew to play. Naturally, she hadn’t wanted to fail any expectations, so she had practiced for hours on end until she was able to play the piece seamlessly, and it had definitely helped her to remember all the lessons she had taken when she was still a little girl. “Otherwise, I fear I wouldn’t have anything to impress you with.”

“You say that, dearest, but everything you do always leaves me impressed.” It wasn’t an overstatement on Aymeric’s part, either. To him, every single thing he witnessed Amira do always made him feel as though he was learning something new about her, and every single discovery only seemed to make him fall for her more and more. He didn’t even need to say the rest out loud, for that single sentence alone was enough to make Amira flush quite red, and her fingers fumbled on the piano keys for a moment.

Instead of responding, she simply continued to play, letting the music speak for her. It wasn’t one of the pieces she had learned from childhood, but a song she had heard for the first time back when she had started on her journey, a song she had often heard Thancred singing at the Waking Sands. A captivating song it was, one that had made her stop and listen, even though she never overstayed her welcome and would often leave as quickly as Minfilia had entrusted her with a task to accomplish. Almost as soon as Thancred had finished, Amira had gone up to him and asked him what song it was, and he had looked at her with much amusement.

“Why, it’s a love song, my dear Amira,” he had teased. “You haven’t heard of it?”

Needless to say, she had felt quite embarrassed then, having to admit that it was the first time she had heard such a song. Thancred had only laughed, but not in a mean-spirited way, before offering to teach her the song if she’d like. And so it had been in her repertoire ever since, but she had never truly played it until today.

It was only now that she had a reason to, after all; how could she not play a love song, when she was in the presence of the man she had entrusted her heart to, and when he was watching her every move like she was the only thing in his eyes?

The mere thought made her fumble again, more than she had earlier, as her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red. “Sorry,” she muttered immediately. “I’m still getting used to it again.” She had meant to give him a good performance in private to make up for the fact that he had been late to catch her duet with Francel at the Firmament celebrations, and yet having his gaze so trained on her now as she played kept throwing her off focus.

Aymeric chuckled softly and shook his head. “Stress not over it. Full glad am I just to be able to hear you play. Besides,” he said, a fond expression on his face, “it’s certainly quite the privilege to have this show all to myself.”

“I-if you say so.” Amira peered at him shyly, looking as though she was trying to find the courage to voice what she wanted to say next, before she finally shifted to one side of the bench, leaving the other empty for him. “Although… Perhaps you would like to join me for a duet, ser.”

*

“Do you think I’m a monster?”

The question took Aymeric by surprise, and he looked up from the papers he had been reading to find Amira wearing an expression that could best be described as conflicted. It was one he rarely expected to see on her, for she was often particular about making sure most of her emotions were kept hidden underneath a mask of neutrality, and yet the woman standing before him now looked as though she was on her way to a breakdown. Her hands, which she had clasped together as if in some semblance of holding control, were shaking, and she couldn’t even look him in the eye.

“Of course not,” Aymeric said, putting his papers down and standing up from the couch so he could walk over to her. Up close, he could see now that Amira was trembling ever so slightly, and that only made him more concerned than he already was. “You are everything but a monster, my dear. Pray tell me, what brought this on?”

“I…” Her expression turned pained, then, as if she was trying to suppress an upsetting memory, and almost immediately Aymeric wanted to hit himself on the head for even asking. He should have realized right away that it wasn’t something she could easily talk about, that he should’ve waited for a better time to ask. Still, Amira shook her head, as if she could tell what he was thinking; knowing her, she probably did. “A-another time. I promise to tell you another time. I just…”

Her head throbbed then, and in her mind flashed, in quick succession, images that she would much rather forget, images of countless bodies, splatters of blood, and death, death, death all around her. In her ears rang faceless voices - voices that cheered for her, that called her ‘hero’, and yet they paled in comparison to the much louder cries of ‘monster’, ‘sinner’, ‘killer’, and the distorted screams of pain and agony that accompanied them.

And then above them all, Elidibus’ voice, as clear as though he was speaking right into her ear, as he wore the face of her dearest friend.

“I see you for what you are. You are death, and only in death shall you serve any purpose.”

Visions, again - of her friends, her allies, her loved ones, falling by her hand. Even Aymeric was among them, eyes cold and distant and lifeless as he swung his sword at her. And then there was Elidibus, again, his voice mocking.

“Even a monster could be someone’s beloved. That is what I wished to impress upon you.”

Amira squeezed her eyes shut, as if doing so would make the thoughts go away. The mere act of keeping herself together while trying to put what she felt into words looked like it was taking a heavy toll on her, and it didn’t take long for Aymeric to figure it out. With a soft sigh, he put his arms around her, holding her petite frame gently against his, and almost immediately she clung to him as if for dear life. Though she was considered rather tall among her people, and though she always seemed larger than life when she was on the battlefield, it was during times like these when he held her in his arms that she felt so small, so fragile. It made him feel more than ever as though he had to protect her and keep her safe, even though he knew better than most that she was more than capable of taking care of herself, that it was she who took it upon herself to protect those around her. He raised a hand to stroke her hair, which seemed to work in helping to soothe her; though she still seemed somewhat shaky, she seemed to have regained some semblance of composure, and she took a few deep breaths before she managed to speak once more.

“Thank you,” she murmured, in a voice so soft it was barely audible, and yet he heard it clearly in the silence of the room. Aymeric allowed himself a small smile as he gave her head a gentle pat.

“Is there aught you need?” he asked. “I could have a room prepared for you, if you need to take a rest. Or perhaps you would like some tea, instead; I could have that fetched for you as well…”

“I… I’m fine now, I think. I…” Amira fumbled, hesitating. “I just… Would it be alright if I stayed here? With you?”

Such a simple wish, and yet one Aymeric would grant in a heartbeat. “But of course,” he said. It was rare for Amira to make such a request, especially when she often thought such desires selfish. “I must only apologize that my office isn’t the most comfortable place there is.”

Amira shook her head, giggling softly. “Rest assured, I feel safe and sound so long as you’re here, Lord Commander.”

Aymeric chuckled softly in response, though the flush in his cheeks betrayed any composure he attempted to present as he guided her to sit alongside him on the couch. “I am but a loyal knight in your servitude, dearest heart.”

His mere presence was definitely enough to help calm Amira’s nerves, and she allowed herself a moment to breathe as she settled down by his side and leaned against him. He felt strong and warm, and he smelled nice and comforting, so much that she felt as though she could fall asleep right then and there without having to worry about a thing, as if just having him this close would help ward off any nightmares, too. She only wished that she herself was stronger so that she wouldn’t slip into such open vulnerability around him, even though it was Aymeric, kind and gentle and loving Aymeric who would love and accept her no matter what, because she didn’t want him to see her so needy, so pathetic, so weak.

After all, wasn’t she the Warrior of Light? As Hydaelyn’s chosen, she was supposed to represent hope, salvation, light itself - everything that was warm, everything that was good, everything that was correct. People looked at her and saw a hero, someone who could save them from everything cold and bad and wrong; and save them she did, for she was there for every new threat that would arise, every new obstacle that barred their way, every new evil that challenged the peace that they sought and desired. 

And so what was she to those who stood on the other side, those that she cut down and trampled to achieve that peace? The opposite, of course - despair, damnation, darkness; to them, she was destruction incarnate, a hindrance that thwarted every single one of their plans, a force that opposed them at every turn. To them, she was the threat, the evil they had to be rid of, the monster that had to be taken down. She was death, Elidibus had said, and Amira couldn’t find it in herself to even think that he was wrong.

Woe betide the man who stands opposed to the Weapon of Light, for death will be his reward. Death for him and his kin and all that he holds dear.

There was a sick irony in how saving one’s life sometimes meant taking another, in how one’s hero could just as well be another’s villain. Amira knew this, and even after all these years, every single time she took a life, she felt as though a part of her died as well. Each time she wondered if there was another way; more often than not, the answer was no, and it was the cruel reality she had learned to accept. Every now and then she continued to hear Elidibus’ voice, continued to see those she loved dead by her hand, and there was little she could do to keep the thoughts away.

She felt Aymeric’s hand, then, his fingers lacing with hers. Just the warmth of his touch was enough to bring tears to Amira’s eyes, and it took all of her efforts to not let them fall as he lifted her hand gently and brushed his lips against her knuckles.

“Safe and sound, yes?” he murmured, and Amira smiled and nodded slowly.

“Safe and sound,” she repeated, nestling even closer against him now.