#glacierites

You already know that these two are basically besties for me haha 🥰

Mid is good at reading people, so when they first met, she noticed Jill was suffering. She couldn't tell what it was about, but she knew something was going on, and it made her quickly want to offer Juill the support she needed. Mid also keeps a lot bottled up herself, but she doesn't want her friends to do the same, so she always makes sure Jill knows she's willing to listen to her.

When they rarely take time to relax at the Hideaway, Mid enjoys sharing a drink with Jill as they're petting Torgal. It's one of the very few moments they can talk about anything that crosses their mind instead of just talking about the next mission. Which means it's also time for girl talk from time to time 👀😂

╰┈➤ STARTER PROMPTS : Merlin, The Dragon’s Call ( 1x01 ) | @glacierites

HIS HEART SINKS AT THE MENTION OF IT, but he makes attempt not to let it show on his face. he's never been very good at masking his true feelings, but years of living around the woman who he deems ' mother ' has taught him a thing or two about keeping unpleasant thoughts to himself. there is no point questioning why she acts the way she does / why she says the things she does. ( ... even so, he finds himself doing so again as the question is posed to him. he tells himself that with time he'll stop being so naive. ) what she thought about his 'gifts' he would honestly rather have never known.

the look on her face was one of visceral disgust, the likes of which could rival that of one caught in morbol's breath. sufficed to say, clive doesn't consider her to be too pleased by his achievements. he could become the greatest shield to ever have walked rosarian ⸻ no, valisthean soils, and still she would turn her nose to him. even so, clive does not resent that he was not born dominant. at the very least, not for lack of his mother's approval. more than that ... he would rather have been born 'correctly' for the sake of his brother; that he may not carry so heavy a burden. that is why he must push himself to become one worthy of being joshua's shield. to lessen that burden by however much possible.

clive curls his fingers, gaze fixed upon his clenched fist with nose scrunched and brow twisted into a quiet scowl.

" she ... " he begins, but tentatively shakes his head. turning to jill with a shaky sense of resolve, clive unfurls his fist and offers a smile. " it's no matter what she thinks, really. what matters is what you, joshua, the knights ⸻ even father, think. " his uncertainty seems to ease somewhat, then. it's true that despite his mother's grating disapproval, there are those around him who have watched him toil & suffer, and grow stronger as a result of it. those who continue to support him, dominant or no. truthfully, it's what keeps him grounded.

" whether or not she approves ... i will keep honing myself to become a shield joshua is worthy of. after all, it is he who has to shoulder the weight of rosaria's future. " to protect those he loves / the land that his father so dearly loves: that is all he desires. though some part of him may still be that naive child, chasing the hopeless dream of finding self-worth in what his body & his blade can provide for the kingdom, clive has begun to understand that what he wishes for is something far simpler than redemption. it is simply to protect.

@glacierites

And he swings his blade, a powerful slash bringing down the last of his many opponents. Now there was only enemy left, the most powerful of them all. The Phoenix himself, and the Dominant awaits Dyfan with a wicked smirk ━ ...

When suddenly, his sister steps right in front of him, crowns of flowers in her hands and a bright smile on her lips. Blinking, the young boy lowers the wooden sword in his hands as he's pulled from the story he's been playing out so meticulously. The sigh slipping past his lips is as exasperated as it can possibly be when coming from a 10-year-old.

"Niamh...!," he complains gently although there's little heat to his voice. No, Dyfan could never be truly angry at Niamh, especially when she looks so proud of the crowns she has weaved of snow daisies. The mild temperatures that shall last for but a few weeks have finally allowed for the flowers to bloom to their fullest, reaching for the sun with as much fervor as the people are. A smile is quick to curl Dyfan's lips as he reaches out and, carefully, takes the wreaths from her.

"They're really pretty." He chuckles and raises his hands, setting one of the wreaths upon the crown of his sister's head before placing the second one on his own.

It feels so good to finally be able to spend more time at the Hideaway. She enjoys Kanver, of course. She's not being constantly watched by Otto, who seems to want to make sure Mid does nothing stupid now that Cid is gone. But the Hideaway is the place she truly feels home. And there's nothing like being home, with everyone she loves around her.

She approaches Jill, almost running with excitement. "Jill!" she exlaims, grabbing the other's hands within hers. "I heard you kicked that asshole's ass! I hope it'll make you feel at peace with whatever happened to you before." She smiles brightly. "And if you still feel somehow shitty, always know that I can hear you complain about whatever crosses your mind!"

Returning from the edges of non-existence is never a pleasant experience. His consciousness is but a speck in the whirl of Odin's powers until his liege conjures him once more, and he may take the form of the man he used to be. Only this time Sleipnir nigh appreciates it, the comfort of the void giving him time to ponder his confrontation with Mythos and his companions. An expected loss, for the vessel mustn't be damaged, but much more vexing that that… The woman that came with the Phoenix. The Dominant of Shiva. And even whilst his form dissipated, Sleipnir remembered.

━ A boy saying his farewells to an even younger girl. Both torn from their homes to become hostages to their conquerors, never to see each other again. Or so he thought.

Now, returned to this realm and clad in his usual attire, the Lord Commander descends the stairs to the innards of the Einherjar where their prisoner was forced behind bars. His liege graciously permitted him to release her should she truly prove to be the sister he thought long lost, albeit the shackles must remain fastened around her wrists. Unceremoniously, Sleipnir opens the door leading to the various cells ━ all empty safe for one. Shiva's Dominant, awake and alert, less than pleased about her circumstances. As she should be.

For a moment, he simply observes the woman from afar, allowing the barest of hint of a smile to hide his apprehension. Blessed with Shiva's power as she is, there is no doubt that she is from the Northern Territories, and that its blood in her must be strong still. Valisthea breeds not the silver hair that the north does, after all. The door falls closed behind him as Sleipnir steps forth, approaching her with his arms crossed over his chest.

orphan black sentence starters. || @glacierites

FORGIVE HIMSELF ? forgiveness isn't something he feels he deserves, nor expects of anyone else; never mind himself. with jaw clenched and fingers furled into tight fists at his side, clive huffs a sigh from his nose & forces himself to consider her words more delicately. ' find out the truth ... ' the concept is a jarring one, but having been presented with it: the vague possibility that it was someone other than himself who committed that terrible act / who burned and slaughtered and destroyed —— he'd be lying if he said it wasn't an enticing dream to cling to. his tense disposition loosens some, brows furrowing.

" ... forgive me, jill. " clive shakes his head, lifting his gaze but still not quite meeting her own. his heart wrenches with guilt, raw as the moment the truth first loomed over him, but the smallest of flames that had been reignited by his recent ( rather unpleasant, albeit necessary ) conflict flickers amid the ache, willing him to look her in the eye. the concern she exudes is a difficult thing to bear; a reminder of times spent with jill, joshua & torgal as children. perhaps not a perfect time, but back then at least they had themselves. they had each other. now ...

' you aren't the only one fighting something ... '

the thought has the corner of his lips downturn ever so slightly. he thinks of what it means to ' atone ', and of the fleeting possibility perhaps he will never have to. perhaps it wasn't him who tore into joshua, or who burned sir rodney to ashes that night. perhaps he only need atone for the lives taken by his hand the past 13 years, and not those taken by claw and flame. ( perhaps this is wishful thinking. ) he thinks of what they made jill do / of cid's mission to help those who cannot save themselves / of guilt and atonement and finding the truth, and lifts a hand to his chest, both decisive and tentative.

" you needn't worry. until i ... we, find out the truth, i will press on. " offering quite the pitiful attempt at a reassuring smile, clive nods. " i can't tell you how grateful i am that you're here, safe. " how grateful he is that she doesn't think him a monster / doesn't treat him any differently, even knowing that he may very well be the one responsible. not only for failing to protect their home, but ...

he digresses. forgiveness may not yet be something he can will himself to face, but that doesn't give him the right to stop pressing on and let everyone else shoulder the hard work. so long as jill can do so, clive thinks, he has no excuse. everyone here has their own tale to tell of hardship & sorrow, and he would be a fool to think that despite their differences they, too, didn't experience a moment like this: where the ground crumbles beneath their feet, and all feels uncertain.

“ Do you remember the time when we drank so much milk it spilled all over , and the maids thought you had an accident ? ” :) ⸻ @glacierites

𝓐  sudden  embarrassment  tinges  his  cheeks  a  shade  of  pink  ,  spreading  rather  quickly  to  the  tips  of  his  ears  .  despite  it  ,  he  recalls  the  memory  fondly  ,  as  it  is  not  often  that  he  recalls  such  pleasantries  from  the  past  they  shared  .  she  reminds  him  that  there  was  a  time  where  things  were  more  peaceful  ;  when  they  were  ignorant  enough  to  find  some  form  of  bliss  in  their  day  -  to  -  day  .〝   to  think  i  had  let  myself  forget  .〝   he  offers  a  chuckle  that  almost  sounds  half  -  miserable  .  there  are  many  emotions  to  feel  regarding  what  once  was  ,  but  he'd  opt  to  relish  in  the  joys  of  it  ,  if  only  for  a  moment  ,  deserving  of  it  or  not  .