#higaneion

@higaneion continued from here

Most confessions she had seen were large, ornate displays of affection accompanied by flowers and pretty words. She imagined this moment with Roy before, but his comes in the form of a kiss that stole any other thought aside from a dizzy affection. He addresses her, her name sounds the sweetest on his lips, quiet and almost unsure but where words leave him, actions fill the gaps.

          Lilina is silent, trying to process all that happened and come up with a suitable response. After all, how could she say that he was the very definition of loveliness itself, that his smile was brilliant enough to rival the sun, that he charmed her with both his boyish nature and the brave soul of a lion to lead Lycia.

          Leaning forward with the intent of returning a kiss in equal measure, she falls just short, bumping his nose with her own instead. Bashfully, she casts her glance aside as a quiet chuckle leaves her to fill the empty air. She glances back at him. Should she try again? This time, she takes hold of his hands, interlocking them with her own and leans forward, taking caution to where she lands now.

          She had wondered before, oft in her daydreams, how it might feel to kiss him, how long should it be, would she know how. All those previous worries dissipate in this moment of intimacy they share as her lips meet his, hesitant in the path, sure in action. She holds it for as long as she can — he could steal her breath if he so wished — before pulling back slightly, beaming with the shy profession of her feelings written on her face.

          “Roy,” Lilina finally says, letting go of one hand and placing it over his. “Was that alright…? If we are of the same mind, I… would like for us to continue like this.”

Roy was so dazed he barely processed what she’d said. Kissing her was like a living dream, so lost in his surge of affection for her that he barely processed the physical kiss. She’d asked... if it was alright?

“It was wonderful.” He smiled and then barely held back a laugh, realizing with horror it might seem as if he was laughing at her, when really he was just overcome with joy. “Haha, I mean, I could never imagine being with you not being wonderful, much less merely alright.” His hand was still on her cheek. Testing the waters, marveling at actually getting to be close, he stroked her cheekbone with his thumb, eyes on hers, taking in every detail.

Behind the initial fluster and the novelty of their kiss, there was a strong, stable sense that even if this was new, he already knew her. He’d known for years he didn’t want to lose her from his life. Somehow, even if it wasn’t exactly like this, he’d wanted to always have her there.

“Me too. I believe we are of the same mind.” He moved his hand back a little to stroke her hair. “Oh, your hair is so soft.” Stupid. Trying to not laugh at himself again, he gathered the resolve to take what seemed the logical next step, eyes still bright with mirth.

No grades were provided for how they may improve. She could work three times as hard as the dozing student sitting next to her and they would result in the same outcome in this class. This was how her time was being utilized?

The wooden chair scrapes against the floor drawing attention to the young student. All eyes are on her now. Something she must get familiar with, one day it would be a council of men. Today, it is only students who couldn't care less what she has to say.

"Professor," she takes a moment to bow her head. She clears her throat. A little louder now, Lilina. "I apologize for interrupting your lesson, but I must make my leave now."

"I... don't mean to be disrespectful, but I am gaining nothing from this lesson." She doubts anyone else was either, half were asleep or dazing off into space. She picks up her books, holding them close to her. Knuckles turn white as she braces herself for what she has to say next. If she were to be a leader, then she needed to make tough decisions and provide criticism, even if it were harsh. "I wish to give you my attention, but this... this is simply a waste of our time."

Deirdre smiles as Lilina stands and addresses her. She knows that she is far from the ideal instructor. She does not know how to explain the intricacies of how faith and healing magic work. It is something that has always come so naturally to her. Something in her very blood. She certainly cannot blame Lilina for her frustration.

"Of course." She does not hesitate to give her approval. It is not the first time a student has skipped or walked out on her class and she is sure it will not be the last.

Deirdre notices the clenched knuckles, hears the pauses between words as the young woman searches for the correct words. She may not be the best at teaching magic but she thinks, she hopes, that perhaps Lilina might just have learned something else.

"Enjoy the rest of your afternoon!"

Still, she cannot go without saying hello.

Timidly, she approaches him and taps him on the shoulder. Would he see her father in her or would she be just another strange face passing by?

"Um... excuse me," she almost cringes at the formality. "...Since we'll be traveling together, I thought I should introduce myself. My name is Lilina."

He'd been dozing until he sensed more than heard the patter of young footsteps, hesitant, and yet brave - if the tap on his shoulder was anything to go by.

The Ostian redresses himself, standing straight as he steps back from where he'd been curled up against the railing, taking in the sun.

For Lilina, Matthew musters a bright smile in spite of any prior brooding. He's yet to meet her, true,

but Hector's never been good at keeping secrets. He speaks of a young miss from the supposed future and, well, y'know what? At this point, the spy feels like he's witnessed stranger things.

"Pleasure to finally meet you, Lady Lilina."

He bows, sneaking a curious onceover as he rises. She's... not what he expected, not really. How did such a cute girl come from... Bah. She must, Matthew would wager, take after her mother - nebulous figure that she is.

"Your, ah," 'father,' is he supposed to say? "... Hector's told me much about you." In truth, prior to Lilina's appearance at the monastery, Matthew'd had his doubts about Ostia's future. Lord Hector, with a child? One would be laughed out of the council hall for such a statement, no matter how much those old geezers hope and pray for that very thing.

She winces, the name on her tongue feeling as foreign as the man who stood before her. Lilina sighs, shoulders slack for the briefest of moments before returning to her noble-bred posture.

"Um... the point I was getting at was... I've been... selfish and immature. And I'm sorry... for the last time we spoke." She stands there, wringing her hands together, stealing glances up at each pause. "I've been forcing my own narrative on you because... because I miss you."

Hector jolts to attention, blinking owlishly as Lilina's question sinks in. The book lain open before him is forgotten as he shifts his burly frame to face her.

She calls his name, and he knows it's his name, but it sounds decidedly weird. Coming from her, that is. At the least, he suspects that's the problem. Rubbing sheepishly at the nape of his neck, he shrugs, gives a slight shake of his head.

"Uhh... Whatever you're most comfortable with is fine with me."

Because if they were going to be awkward about the whole thing, they may as well not exist to one another. He'd have to patiently wait to meet future Lilina, and she'd have to go back to whatever old bastard of a Hector was waiting for her back home.

(Future Hector had best be taking good care of her. Or else.)

Anyway, he isn't sure he's up to the whole 'patience' thing.

Or so he thinks, but when she stands here before him looking so unsure of herself, his heart leaps despite himself and he finds he is unsure. Unsure of how to approach her, and unsure of what exactly she is saying, even if deep down he's gotten a vague sense of her sorrow from the very start.

It isn't terribly difficult to imagine where that sense is coming from.

"Wait, wait--" She misses him? Rather, misses her father?

He stands now, towers over her without meaning to, and places a hand on both of her shoulders.

"Don't tell me the Hector from your time is a deadbeat dad! Does he not even write you letters?! Why I oughta..."

He squeezes her shoulders lightly, then lets go when he remembers himself. Still, as he crosses his arms over his chest, Hector huffs.

"i have to say, I'm relieved that you agreed to join me today," being so new to this monastery left him rather anxious to exploring it's halls alone. surely he could ask hector, or even lyndis to join him, but they both seemed to have found a comfortable clique here. he was no stranger to playing catch up, though, and it only gave him a chance to meet new friends as well. it was not lost on him the rarity of being able to meet someone such as lilina, the future daughter of his most dear friend. perhaps these things were commonplace here, but he could scarcely imagine something like this before arriving at fodlan. if he hadn't met his own son mere days ago, eliwood might have been ever more skeptical of her claims.

he turned to his company for the day and continued, "i'll be relying on you to help me make a fine gift for roy today." this was something of an agreement between the two, that today they would assist each other in making the perfect gift. alone he could never make something that his son would enjoy, why, he hardly knew anything about him. in exchange, however, he offered to give his expert opinion on what exactly hector would like to see. a grin found itself on his features... much like himself, eliwood imagined hector would melt at anything lilina thought to gift him. it was incredibly endearing, however, to see just how much she wanted her father to be happy. Hector must be an amazing father in this future of theirs... "I haven't forgotten my promise, either," the lord let out a chuckle as he motioned her forward, "i'll help you make the perfect arrangement, lilina!"

"Hmhm~ Blessed by stars and favored by the gods, I am thanked on this wondrous day! My services as your loyal knight finally receive the recognition they deserve!"

So yeah, he's letting a little cheek-kiss go to his head. But even from little Lilina, Sain appreciates an act of affection. He was told his duty was to the students, after all, so to see one returning some of the favor paints his cheeks with blush and mouth with grin.

"With manners like those, you ought to blossom into a fine young lady." From his breastplate he produces a rose, and delicately places it into her hands. "Remember our fated encounter, my dear. Remember that Sain is the very picture of love and loyalty..."

Then it happens. From the corner of his eye he spots an icy stare. At first he assumes it's not for him, but after turning some attention to it he makes out a head of blue and a giant, thundering axe: Lord Hector.

It is most certainly for him.

"W-wait," he begins, his voice losing some of its confidence, "why is that Ostian lout glowering at me..." And he looks back to Lilina. Then to Hector, back to Lilina again. Hector. Lilina. Hector, Lilina--and finally the pieces fall into place. They bear a striking resemblance.

The Black Eagles have always been a determined and studious class. There is much to see under the flag of their eagle, even for the house leader herself. As their seminar goes over various offensive abilities, they split off into duos to commence real-time practice. The princess moves towards Lilina with a glint of determination at the ready.

"There are advantages to the magic you wield. Even so, I prefer an axe or a sword. The way it holds itself is much different than staying at range with a spell." It is for this very reason that she challenges Lilina to a duel amidst their class's training session— Edelgard has always held something of an interest in reason magic, but she cannot fully utilize it when she has other weapons at her present disposal. Still, she is curious how Lilina's magic holds up against her own form.

Task: There isn’t much on the shelves to sell right now, but children come and go as they please anyways. While you’re working on the toys, they’re happy to tell you about their day and offer up their advice. A furry wyvern with sparkly purple wings might not have the broad appeal you’re looking for, though...

Waking up was...bizarre. He felt safe and comfortable, and he knew that should not have been his immediate reaction. Rain pattered down on the roof and dripped onto the windows of the building they had all awoken in, a steady and cozy fire burning in the hearth. 

It would have been all too easy to accept this image, quaint and idyllic as it was, but it was interrupted by a knock at the door and an explanation of rent due. 

Ah, okay, that made...sense. 

Lloyd pressed the pads of his forefinger and thumb against his eyes, giving his head a shake to try and dispel the dreamy cobwebs that were cloyingly doing their best to stick to his brain. This was a dream, this was a scenario. They had a job to accomplish, and if that meant they had to play along and blend in, so be it. The front area was clearly set up as a workshop, tools and some supplies and shelves set up for finished items. 

Toys, something slipped into his mind, but Lloyd also observed some instruments along the walls. Even with the rain, the sound of children was clear and steady; both from outside and milling about the front of the shop, despite there not being all that much for them to gawp at.

While most might not think it, children could be a surprising well of information. They saw more than many thought they did, and even if they didn’t understand all the nuances, they were easier to chat with than adults with specific suspicions. So, running a hand along the work table littered with wood shavings and paint spatter, Lloyd put on a smile and approached one of the youngsters in a near conspiratorial manner. “Got your eye on something special, hm? Lots of excitement coming with all the soldiers...Perhaps we should be moving away from dolls,” he mused, hand curled in front of his mouth as he feigned deep thought, “What do you think?”

That prompt earned excited chatter from some of the children, and disapproving pouts from others. Regardless, it was a clamor of little voices now. They just needed to build up a solid base and sift through the usual childish conversation and pick out actual, useful information on anything they might have seen or heard.