#clear.sky

a/n: thinking about argenti's s/o consoling him whenever he wonders if spreading idrila's word is pointless and if his faith goes unheard. pairing: argenti x gender non-specified reader warnings: no particular warnings. maybe a bit of information about the knights of beauty. not proofread. category: comfort/mild angst.

Argenti was a typically well-mannered man, with looks so stunning one would think he's the very image of beauty. Fitting, for being a Knight of Beauty, I suppose.

Candid, devout, and warm-hearted were words people often described him as. He bore no ill intent, and although a little exaggerated at times when he directed himself, it was clear he only meant well.

After all, what kind of Knight would he be if he didn't spread Idrila's good word?

Alas, not everyone returns the kindness he offers. And a flower, as beautiful as every, withers like any other if not taken care of.

The kind knight is amicable, but not delusional. He knows well that she whom he follows is well most likely dead — not missing.

This objective of the Knights of Beauty to find their vanished Aeon was starting to seem more like wishful thinking than an accomplishable feat.

And when one's testimony of The Beauty is rejected more often than not, it's easy to grow frustrated — so when your lover strolls with you in the garden with mildly furrowed brows, you can tell the lack of appreciation for his beliefs is starting to get to him.

You take his armored hand in yours, guiding him to a section surrounded by flowers and grass, as you both slowly sit down in between nature's glory.

Slowly beginning to pick apart a few flowers and tying them around each other, you speak softly.

"What is it that bothers you?"

A simple question, but it does bring the knight's attention back to you. He musters a smile, a quiet chuckle leaving through his lips that reverberates through his chest as he gazes at you.

"Dearest, and here I believed that this was meant to soothe us?"

His words are teasing, and well — elaborate, as always, yet, you can tell he's attempting to shift the subject just slightly. Subtly.

But you know better than to ignore when Argenti begins to show signs of distress. So you pry further.

"It is — and I know something is occupying your mind."

And as his breath catches, his emerald hues flicking towards the sky briefly before glancing back at you, a wry smile tugs at his lips — you have him.

And well, it can't hurt to tell you, now can it?

"I still haven't found her."

Those're the first words he speaks. He pauses, before continuing, just a hint of melancholy present in his usually warm gaze.

"And not many are willing to spare a glance at her radiance."

A bit of a complex statement at first, but you're able to decipher quickly enough what he means by his words. His Aeon remains unfound, dead, and any attempt to garner faith for The Beauty has by now been almost but completely futile.

You continue making a wreath out of the flowers, as you hum quietly in response. You know spreading The Beauty's word can for him be, whilst certainly a blessing, also a burden.

"Not many are able to withstand her radiance," You reply in turn, beginning to lift your gaze to meet Argenti's eyes.

"The human mind was not made to comprehend the divine," You continue, finishing the wreath of flowers as you sit beside him, hugging your knees.

"It's normal for a mortal to not believe what cannot be seen," You say to him, not minding his silence as he gazes at you with an expression that slowly turns into a half-hearted, amused, but certainly endearing smile.

"That is very consoling, my love, but.." He chuckles, his lips forming a more genuine smile that has a hint of hurt, not intended to be hidden. "It doesn't make it any less exasperating."

And he is right — even if your words provided a soothing message to his heart, his mind yet remains uneasy. You gaze at him, contemplating his words, and you sigh quietly, as your head leans on his right shoulder.

"There are things that'll remain with uncertainty, Argenti," You state, gazing at the setting sun, the sky slowly shifting into a faded dusk. "Faith cannot be demanded of instantly — it must come of the soul."

Your hand finds his, gently squeezing it, and he still feels a miniscule chill sent through his way with an accompanied warmth from the palm of your hand, despite the armor that separates him from your touch.

"Even if you don't live to see her light once more .." you speak, feeling his attentive gaze fixed on you. You pause, trying to find the right words, before you smile faintly, finishing your statement.

Like what if he's actually so desperate for you to run your hands through his hair and softly touch his horns whilst he doesn't move an inch