#semperiuvare

Oh, so he was alive. There is a part of him glad at this knowledge, and another part of him that was concerned that he had to be worried in the first place.

“Um… Lord Hector!” Oh, Saint Elimine, what if he didn’t remember? What if nothing happened? Lucius flounders for a cover, and ends with an offering of a drink and a question: “W-Would you be willing to swap tokens?”

"Oh! Uh..." It's the man of the cloth Hector suspected Serra sometimes stole looks at, probably that she might find grounds for some manner of raise or bonus in her work.

He takes the drink, though he doesn't take a sip immediately. Instead, he regards it with mild... curiosity, let's call it. Definitely not suspicion. (Is it sweet? He hopes it's not too sweet.)

Thankfully, in the short interim, his brain supplies a name to the face.

"Thanks, Lucius. And hey, sure thing." Hector sets the drink down - a trial for future him to deal with, maybe - and fishes for a pair of bells from his brooch. "This should do, yeah?"

It's odd, though. He doesn't remember the monk ever being particularly loud or outspoken by any means but...

// not really. soulmates and true love is reserved for stuff like fairytales, and fairytales always made things like true love's kiss insanely contrived. how do you truly love someone you've never talked to before, someone you've never met? how is it true love if you can't even get the other to look at you? if true love is so powerful, why did the girl dissolve into foam at the end?

// it's that kind of thing. a scripted madness. an unhinged impulse that fails even to make you good or the people around you happy. he's more inclined to call it having a screw loose. all it looks like it does is invite ruination or shallow happiness and inevitable loss.

He feels small.

It isn't unusual for Chad to feel this way; He's slight in stature, young of age, insignificant in standing, enough so that even just being in Garreg Mach makes him feel small in the midst of towering hallways and echoing footsteps. It's easy to get lost as an insignificant sliver. It's better this way, even as the world looms large, cold, empty. Let it.

I'm used to experiencing those who hide thorns within their kind words. It is one of the few things that I question my capability to use correctly myself, but I have seen others use it enough to recognize…some the common tells. But only some.

At first, I had thought him the same - but now, I get the impression that he is not like this. Even in a game where it was easy to take advantage of another, his words were genuine. I'm sure of this.

She should have known better than to step on the field herself, but a late-night error had lead to a weakness in their defenses, and there was no one left to cover the space. She felt lucky the only wound she’d sustained was a well-placed arrow in her shoulder. Now, she sat outside Lucius’s tent, trying to ignore the throbbing pain the arrowtip left behind as he wrapped it with clean fabric. The gentle compression of the bandage soothed the ache, and Mark tilted her head to look at Lucius, instead. As he tore the fabric to finish wrapping, he reached for a staff, and pressed a gentle kiss to the fabric. Mark felt her cheeks flushing (was that necessary?) but she smiled regardless as he touched the staff to her wound. 

╰┈➤ STARTER PROMPTS : Chaste Kisses (still accepting!)

"It's ok...! I'm alright, really!!" Nino tries to avoid fidgeting around the bandages Lucius' careful fingers were winding around her forearm, more out of the discomfort of scrutiny than real pain.

"It doesn't actually hurt that much," she tries to convince the other, "It gets better in no time, and I'm used to stuff like this, from when I was in—" Nino breaks off, swallowing the rest of her words with a sigh. She'd only just joined Eliwood and Lyn and the others not too long ago, and she has to remind herself to avoid talking about her life before.

They weren't on the same side of the battlefield, anymore.

The press of gentle lips against the bandage surprises her from her thoughts, and — for a moment, she remembers Lloyd's hands, more calloused than Lucius' but no less gentle when it comes to her. Nino ducks her head, the wistful rush of melancholy welling in her eyes. "Thanks..." she says softly, looking down at the monk's careful handiwork, distorted as it is through the haze of tears. Hopefully, he'll just think it's from the pain of injury, despite her earlier protests.

Even if he doesn’t want them back, Lucius figured it was worth a try.

A chuckle meets the other monk's trepidation.

Gently,

oh so gently, the monk places a hand on the ones presented him, and curls closed the other's fingers over the proffered candy.

“Oh, you’ve made my evening much, much better! I give you my word on that. But, ah, as for the candies… In truth, I am not particularly fond of sweets. Perhaps some of the other less fortunate participants might better enjoy such treats…?”

It’s Azama’s turn to bow.

“I do thank you though, from the bottom of my heart. And, know you are no villain for indulging my selfish request! Is it really a betrayal, after all, if I’m the one who requested it in the first place?”

Ah, well… It won’t fix the earlier remainder of the evening, but at least he’ll sleep lighter tonight, he figures. 

(Hah! Who’s he kidding. He’s always apt to sleep like a baby!)

His choice had already been made, so he feels no sense of wariness that one might find searching for the correct answer. It will only take a moment to write it down, of course. He smiles, clasping his hands together. “I’m… not quite sure what the purpose of secrecy is for something like this, so I will tell you outright: no matter what you choose, I will ally with you.”

This stranger was going to ally with her?

A game like this was nothing like what she knew from her typical bouts on the battlefield. It seemed straightforward and easy enough - yet how easy the game presents itself gives Niamh pause. Was it correct to believe in what the stranger says?

Was he the sort to hide his intentions behind a smile?

She supposes there is only one way to understand his intentions. "...if that is what you claim, then I will act accordingly in return."

Whether she intends to actually ally or not...given her stern expression, its difficult to determine her feelings on the matter. At the least, she doesn't appear hostile, and Niamh is making no actions to force his hand.