#architectofhope

     there was nothing aerith appreciated more than a lazy sunday.

     she meandered her way from reeve’s kitchen with two cups of fresh-brewed tea, one in each hand, and a smile plastered on her face. nonsense soap operas driveled from the television and when she rounded the couch with her bounty she was fully ready to dive into the world of the over dramatic. rather than handing her gracious host the near-boiling beverage aerith opted instead to set it on one of the empty coasters on the coffee table before them. when she took her place beside him she tucked her legs up and under the throw blanket, her own drink in hand.

     the theme music to the show in question was as gripping as one might imagine would come from such a program, but still the cetra allowed herself to be drawn into it. more and more of her time was spent with the shinra engineer ——reeve seemed to fill some hole in herself that aerith had been unaware of until their eventful meeting. he was so kind, everything he said and did was so genuine it almost hurt her to consider them fully. but instead of taking that kindness for granted she basked in it, allowed herself to be spoiled in the company of someone who was always eager to share meaningless stories and their time, in some fashion.

     she was not blind to what he was, who he worked for, but instead chose to concentrate on the person inside of the corporation. he was proof that not everything shinra touched was evil, that it wasn’t all damndable, even if other examples tried their hardest to make that case. with two hardy sips of her tea aerith set her mug onto the coffee table as well and plucked her cross stitch into her lap once more. attention was split between the cheesy display of acting in front of her and the hobby in her lap. when she spoke it was softer, as not to distract from the program.

     “ was he the one in a coma last episode? ”

@architectofhope​

@architectofhope

Kingdoms of Gaia - a FFVII medieval AU moodboard for Reeve / The Polymath / @architectofhope​

@architectofhope​

Rhys pulled back on the reins, dark eyes surveying Midgar Castle.

This was it. The culimation of years of hard work. It felt good to finally be acknowledged, in more ways than one.

Clucking gently to Cuckoo, Rhys got the gelding in motion, guiding him carefully towards the stable. He'd use the rest of the day get settled into his new quarters and learn the layout of the castle. The next few months would be spent shadowing the current steward and learning how to run a household the size of... well, of a castle, as well as the surrounding city and farmlands.

He couldn't help but be optimistic about the future, for a change.  He'd finally earned his place in the world.

The optimism lasted right until he dismounted, turned around, and came face to face with his brother.

Perhaps it was the colder air that came with the Autumnal months that caused this bottomless feeling of dread within the Knight. Or better yet, caused by what he considered to be a most embarassing display of courtship ever performed by yours truly. There did the well-renowned knight sit, at the foot of the palace steps with his head buried deep within the safety of his palms and a tankard of mead by his side . Perhaps he should be happier that he was placed so quickly into the company of a woman he did not expect to hold such a deep emotion for, but the way he handled it was subpar to say the least.

Never had the knight looked so frustrated and humiliated. Passerbys that noticed him would give him strange looks before carrying on with their plans for the night, lucky them that they weren’t ashamed as he was. The Actress that he was introduced too earlier was a beauty to behold, and he owed his older brother much thanks in putting together the unexpected meeting... Unexpected. Was this all a ruse to make Sephiroth look like a fool? No, no... Reeve would never do such a thing... Would he? 

It wasn’t until he heard the familiar voice of his oldest friend that he lifted the red-faced head of his, a glare of uncertainty shot towards him. It was uncharacteristic to say the least, the Knight looked so humane for once, that piercing stare nowhere to be seen. The royal knight shook his head, grabbing a firm hold of his tankard and taking a huge swig before placing it back down. Not even alcohol could quell the feelings burning inside of him. 

“Perhaps you could’ve warned me that this meeting you put together involved her? I could’ve mentally and physically prepared myself for this occassion...” No deflecting this time, he was well and truly defeated. Conquered not by the distinction of battle and war, but by love. “I wonder if she thinks I’m a blibbering buffoon after the utter mess of a man that I was tonight. Do you know how hard it is to formulate words of affection when in the presence of one so winsome my dearest Reeve?” 

Hands instinctively grabbed at the folder presented to her before she even knew what was happening. It took a moment for her to register his request and once it processed, she stared at the folder incredulously before meeting his gaze. Stepping backwards, Quistis inhaled sharply and put in her best effort to smile. She held the folder out in front of her, giving him an opportunity to correct his mistake before she did it for him. Asking her to waltz right back into the gaping maw of a ravenous beast only reminded her of how far beneath him she was viewed, intentionally or not. Despite his attitude towards her being decidedly more pleasant than that of the other executives, it still wasn’t acceptable. Not after the verbal abuse she just had to endure, and to think she wanted to save him from the same.

Rita tried her best to mask her surprise. That Ruvie would recognize a different flower carrier, well, that was to be expected. That she recognized her specifically, and as Domino’s relation too...Rita felt a bit touched, by both mother and son. 

“It’s an honor to finally meet in person, ma’am,” she bowed her head. In every phone conversation, Ruvie had been nothing but warm, kindly. Rita always enjoyed talking to her...she didn’t grow up any mother figures. Ruvie was in some small way a taste of what that might have been.

      excitement thrummed at her heart like a guitarist plucking along a song aerith had long considered foreign, yet somehow found herself in tune with. she’d all but buzzed with it from the moment she woke up, a knowing smile creasing at her cheeks for the dinner she’d been readying herself for since it was promise. it was hard not to be excited with him, but she managed to tamp it down to something passable at the very least. she was thankful for the easy day, for how quickly self-appointed chores seemed to carry her through the morning so that she might stop by sector 6 for last minute necessities early enough to not be lost in the swath of glitz and glamour it promised.

      she’d even helped elmyra prepare her own dinner, politely explaining her plans for the evening with as little detail as possible (“ i’m staying at a friend’s, we’re having dinner there ”) though the decidedly scrutinizing gaze had her sure that elmyra somehow knew. details to be considered at a later time. momentary concern was replaced with the ritual of preparation before she left the slums for the evening: a hot shower to wash the dirt from her skin and under her nails before the impossible task of attempting to dry thick waves of hair (abandoned to the air, only oiled to keep it manageable), dressing for the occasion and checking to ensure all necessities had been packed in the modest bag she’d stuffed up.

      black. aerith imagined too many people would make proper commentary on the choice in color - an absence of pastels and decidedly spring palettes in favor of something dark and accentuating, complimented only by the deep emerald of her sweater. it was enough to quirk her mother’s brow on the way out the door, a knowing hum leaving elmyra’s lips when aerith pressed a loving kiss to her cheek and wished her a good night. on the way. --- confirmation to her gracious host, at least enough time to warn him that she’d begun the familiar journey from her little sector 5 cottage to topside.

      the air was different there, simultaneously clean and mechanical when she crowned the steps up and continued along. it was hard to chase the grin from her face, impossible the nearer she drew to the familiar front door. tongue parted tiers, wet at them as she gave a sharp triple knock and snatched at the strap of her bag, expectant.