Lavandin Fi'el

Sune was surrounded by beautiful, fragrant blooms, vibrant petals filling the little forest clearing. Gentle fingers ran across the tops of them, watching as they swayed with his touch. His lips curled into a soft smile as he leaned his head back, face pointed to the sky, dappled sunlight kissing his cheeks, filtered through the canopy of leaves above. 

This was their favorite place; he and Fessa stole away to this meadow as often as they could manage, so they could sit among the blooms and talk. In fact, the two had spent a lot of time together recently, but Sune still found himself missing the older boy when they were not together. He hadn’t ever really felt that before now, before him. He missed his family of course, when he had first been dragged off to the forest for training. But that had faded in time, resolved to his fate as he had become. But with Fessa, he didn’t feel quite so doomed, quite so stuck. 

His heart beat unsteadily in his chest as a soft rustling broke him from his reverie, and he turned just in time to see Fessa stride through a break in the trees. At the sight of him - tall and muscular, ivory hair brushing across his shoulders, bright smile gracing his lips - a blush spread unbidden across Sune’s face. He looked away quickly, shifting his gaze instead to his hands, picking at the grass beneath him. 

“Sune…” he nearly shivered at the way Fessa said his name, serving only to deepen the blush on his face. Pull yourself together… he chastised himself, taking a deep breath and finally looking up at Fessa. “Sorry, got held up in training. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long?” the boy smiled sheepishly, which was an expression not many were blessed to see. Beautiful. 

Sune smiled “N-not long, ‘s okay. I um…” he swallowed awkwardly “I saved you a seat?” he softly patted the grass beside him. He didn’t notice the soft blush in Fessa’s cheeks as he lowered himself to sit in the grass. “How was, uh, training today?” his gaze was back on his fingers, picking at the blades of grass again.

“Long, boring.” Fessa answered simply for a moment, before directing a rather intense gaze towards Sune. “I much prefer spending time with you…” he spoke softly, words spilling out between them, hanging heavy in the perfumed air between them. 

A moment passed, and another, before Sune squeaked out: “Y-y-you… you really mean that?” he met Fessa’s eyes shyly, uncertainty knitting his brow. He didn’t often hear that someone actually enjoyed his company, and it meant that much more from someone whose company he himself coveted more than any other. Fessa leaned towards him, pressing their shoulders together quietly. 

Sune could feel his heart racing, his hands trembling, his cheeks practically aflame. Tentatively, afraid of breaking this peaceful moment, he laid his head against the boy next to him. Wordlessly, Fessa reached out to take Sune’s hand in his own. They sat like this, side by side, leaning on each other, hands entwined, for quite some time. Long enough that the sun began to set, casting a warm orange light across the clearing. 

Sune heard, and felt, Fessa sigh beside him. “It’s getting late… perhaps we should start heading back?” Sune whipped around, eyes wide, responding with a hasty shake of his head - eliciting a fond smile from the white-haired viera staring down at him. Calloused fingers met his jaw, his cheek, gently holding his face, as though it were something fragile and precious. Fessa inclined his head, slowly, eyes roaming Sune’s face for his reaction, stopping only when their lips were less than an ilm apart. 

Sune made a small impatient sound in the back of his throat, reaching up to grasp at Fessa’s chest, hands balling in the fabric there. Fessa smiled at him in fond amusement, and Sune could feel that smile, as their lips finally met.

In the light of a setting sun they kissed, wrapped comfortably in each other’s presence; all the world falling away save for their little meadow, nestled among the trees beneath a clear, star-filled sky.

The chocobo startled, attempting to shake off his rider, feathers rustling in displeasure. Lavandin panicked, only serving to annoy the chocobo further as he gripped the reins for dear life. 

“Well don’t panic! Cheesecurds isn’t gonna hurt you, he just isn’t used to anyone but me riding him, you gotta be gentle.” Banana accented her words with an extremely deliberate, gentle stroke to the bird’s head, to which she was rewarded a pleased little “Kweh!”

Lavandin sighed, relaxing somewhat as the lalafell calmed her chocobo. He hadn’t ridden one before, and expressed some small measure of curiosity; next thing he knew she was instructing him how to get into the saddle. 

“Perhaps… Am I simply too tall for him to carry comfortably?” they sat for a moment, in suddenly uncomfortable silence. Oh no.

“Are you perhaps suggesting,” the lalafell spoke slowly. Oh no. “suggesting that I am short?” she turned towards him, crossing her arms across her chest and aiming a glare at him. 

Up, at him. 

Because she was indeed, objectively, incredibly short.

Lavandin wasn’t about to say that though, he rather enjoyed his kneecaps intact.

“He’s just a rather small chocobo…” Cheesecurds gave an indignant squawk. There is no winning in this situation, Lavandin thought to himself, looking side to side trying to find a way to dismount this beast safely. The bird jerked underneath him, easily launching him out of the saddle and leaving him sprawled across the ground, dazed.

Banana rushed to his side, healer instincts kicking in despite this definitely being her fault in the first place. 

“Are you alright? Does anything hurt?” She looked him over, keen vision scanning for injuries.

“Just my pride…” Lavandin muttered. “Well that, and my ass.”

The two broke out into peals of laughter, right there in the dirt and grass. Cheesecurds leaned down and nudged them both with his beak, as they laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

With shaky hands, knuckles turning white, Sune gripped his lance. He struggled to maintain eye contact with the boy across from him, who held his weapon with experienced hands, dropping into a well-practiced stance. Sune tried to imitate Fessa’s stance, shifting uncomfortably on clumsy legs. The stronger viera shook his head, gently indicating he was doing it wrong. Again. Sune took a deep breath, shifting again, slowly, watching for Fessa’s reaction. Fessa nodded, and lunged forward.

Truthfully, Sune was hopeless in battle. Even in a mock fight like this, he shook like a leaf in the wind. The older viera, tasked with training the younger ones to become formidable wood-warders like themselves, were nearly at their wit’s end with him. Sune simply did not pick up on their teachings, weak and easily distracted. The issue was, he had no interest in fighting, or struggling to survive in solitude. He had always assumed that when he came of age that he would join the other women of the tribe in caring for their village. He had grown up surrounded by strong and impressive viera women, and something in him always assumed that would be him someday. He had watched as the others around his age had started to display certain characteristics, those that would determine their role in society for the rest of their lives. It took a bit longer for him, but eventually the time came, and he was whisked off by the other male viera. This life didn’t suit him, he had come to quickly realize.

The head of Fessa’s lance clashed with Sune’s, easily knocking it out of his hands. “You have to hold it steady, not too tight but not too loose. Being disarmed will, effectively, secure your loss against most enemies.” Fessa twirled his lance around in his hands, jamming the end of it into the dirt.

“I know, it-it’s j-j-just” Sune sighed heavily, defeated, scuffing the toe of his boots across the ground in frustration. Strong arms came from behind, wrapping around his own and adjusting his grip. 

“Like this, you needn’t squeeze the life out of it now.” Fessa chuckled, close enough to Sune’s ear to make him shiver. He took slow, deliberate breaths, focusing on the older boy’s teachings instead of how warm his arms felt. Those arms moved away, only for a moment, before Fessa placed his hands on Sune’s hips. “And you need to fix your stance, a light breeze could knock you over if you stand like this…” Gentle pushes to his hips and back had Sune standing in the proper stance. He quickly tried to memorize the feel of the stance and Fessa’s hands before he could move away. Blush colored his cheeks at the thought and he gave a nod, unable to speak. Fessa smiled innocently “Much better. We go again.” 

Fessa grabbed his lance out of the ground, spinning it in a way that could only be described as showing off, before dropping back into his own stance. He gave a nod, and lunged once more. This time, Sune would not be so easily disarmed. Fessa grinned, impressed as he jumped backwards. They circled each other, lunging and parrying in something that could actually be considered a spar this time. “Much better! What improvement a quick adjustment makes!” Fessa chuckled mirthfully, putting some more energy behind his movements. It was like a dance, the way they twirled, kicking up bits of dirt and grass in their wake. 

Then Fessa did something incredibly, and completely… Not. Fair.

Moving in close, lances clashing once more.

Fessa winked.

Embarrassingly, that was more than enough to throw Sune out of focus, his lance soon clattering to the dirt. Fessa’s own joined it as he moved in close, breathily heavily from exertion. “Very good…” he spoke softly, laying a hand on Sune’s cheek. 

“Well, I have a good t-teacher, so…” Sune was soon lost in the gray eyes that stared back at him. They held eye contact for what felt like an age. Fessa leaned his forehead against Sune’s, lips barely an ilm apart. They breathed the same air for a moment before Sune remembered, he should be angry. He pulled back indignantly, crossing his arms in front of him. “Wa-wait! Th-that was hardly f-fair! You only disarmed me because you d-d-distracted me!” 

Fessa laughed, reaching to uncross Sune’s arms and take his hands into his own. “Perhaps if you weren’t so easily distracted…” Sune’s face burned hot, cheeks turning pink. He muttered in annoyance, but didn’t pull away.

“So not fair…”

Lavandin had never dressed himself in any particularly thoughtful way, fashion not being at the forefront of his priorities as a wood-warder in training; still not a priority after he had left home and found himself living on the Azim Steppe, wearing what he had kept from home and any old hand-me-downs from Cirina and the Mol. He hadn’t given it much thought, to be honest, what options were out there for adorning oneself in fabrics. The purpose of his clothing was for protection, and comfort, he didn’t see much sense in fretting over the colors and styles.

Upon arriving in Kugane, Lav was taken aback at some of the beautiful clothing and adornments he saw while wandering the markets. Luscious silks, long garments he would later discover are referred to as kimonos, and pieces of clothing in the most gorgeous colors he had laid eyes on. 

He had not been in Kugane long when he started making a habit of visiting the markets. Lav walked down the now somewhat familiar path, scanning the displays of each stall as he passed. He stopped abruptly, causing a minor disruption to foot traffic, when he laid eyes upon the most beautiful garment he had yet seen. It was long, a dress, the bottom of the fabric nearly brushing the ground; and it was a most stunning shade of light purple. A spread of embroidered flowers stood out against the fabric, starting near one hip and fanning out towards the bottom hem, as if the flowers were falling, carried aloft on a light spring breeze. Other patrons of the market pushed past him, muttering in annoyance, as he stared overlong at the dress. The proprietor of that particular stall noticed his gaze, coming over with an incredibly fake, salesman smile plastered on his face.

“Ah, I see I’ve got another customer with exquisite taste!” he schmoozed, obviously going for the sale. “Perhaps a dear one’s nameday is coming up? Must be quite the lucky lady to have a keen-eyed lad like you shopping for her.” Lav’s lips twisted into a frown as his brows furrowed. A dear one… What had he meant by that? Lucky Lady…

Lavandin had not been contemplating purchasing the dress as a gift, he had been wondering what it might feel like to be the one wearing it; to have the soft fabrics drift around his legs, twirling as he spun. 

It turned out he didn’t have enough money for the dress anyway - he barely had any coin at all. 

Lavandin picked up odd jobs during his time in Kugane. He trotted across the city, delivering things for various merchants, even once retrieving an order from the markets for the Sekiseigumi. He spent some time apprenticing for a kindly merchant, who took pity on him as a confused newcomer to the city, teaching him the ways of the city and its markets. He worked endlessly, saving up coin. He earned enough to buy nice treats from the market, reveling in the sweet desserts and rich meals. Eventually, he earned enough.

He went back and bought the dress. He lied, when the merchant asked again if it was for a woman he was courting, he lied and handed over his hard-earned coin, and the dress was finally his.

He rushed back to his room at the Bokairo Inn, immediately placing the box down onto the bed, tearing aside the fine paper it had been wrapped in. He stared at it, uncertain for only a heartbeat before a smile spread across his face. He reached down, feeling the fabric underneath quivering fingertips. Pulling it out of the box reverently, admiring the way the fabric moved as he held it up, Lav felt giddy. 

Lavandin tried on his new dress, and in a flurry of emotions, found it to be a perfect fit. 

To shed something that has been so closely entwined with one’s identity for many years is a terrifying feat. Sune knew that, he knew that if he were to start with this deceivingly simple change that he wouldn’t be able to go back to who he was before. But… He thought to himself, I’m not that person anymore… Am I? That cowering weak little thing… I left him behind some time ago. Didn’t I? 

He looked up at the stars above him, gently threading his hands through the lush grass below him, leaning back into the warm embrace of the man sat behind him, arms held firm around his waist. The man said nothing, making a soft contented sound as he leaned forward to place his chin on Sune’s shoulder. 

He and Hien had met when Sune still felt like Sune. It was shortly after he had stumbled his way into Reunion for the first time, witless and reeling from the journey it took in order to finally drag his exhausted body across the Azim Steppe. Cirina had taken him in, so to speak, and taught him the ways of the Steppe. Sune had not yet settled into his new existence here when he ran into Hien, deep in thought, sat upon one of the cliffy outcrops scattered across the landscape of the Steppe. They sat quietly together, barely speaking that first encounter, just enjoying one another’s silent company. As time passed, they made a habit of sitting together in the grass. They’d talk about anything and nothing; Sune loved when Hien would share stories of his homeland, Doma.

Sune enjoyed life on the Steppe, life with the new friends he found among the Mol. With Hien. The change in him was gradual, but he could feel it. No longer trapped by the expectations of his forest home - the freedom agreed with him. Sune wanted to flex this newfound freedom, he wanted to continue to grow into this new version of himself… He didn’t want to be Sune anymore. The name fit him like an old piece of clothing; long ago worn out, too small and fraying at the edges. Suffocating. 

“I’m thinking of changing my name.” he spoke suddenly, breaking their quiet reverie. Hien hummed in acknowledgement, the low sound of it rumbled pleasantly through his chest. “Sune just doesn’t-” the name felt odd in his mouth, already so foreign to him. “- it doesn’t fit me anymore. It isn’t me anymore… Does th-that make sense?” He twisted in Hien’s arms to look at him.

“Hm, I believe it does. Do you know what you’d like to change it to?” Sune got quiet, pondering the question. He had of course played around with some words, some sounds, trying to find something that fit him. 

“Perhaps… Lavandin?” the words drifted from his mouth like leaves shed from trees, like naught but a quiet thought upon a gentle breeze. As though he was afraid of saying it outloud. Though once he had said it, said this new name out loud, a smile slowly crept across his face.

Hien hummed, “Lavandin…” Hien didn’t test how the sound felt in his mouth - no, he spoke the name reverently. As a prayer dropping from parted lips.

“It’s nice to meet you Lavandin”

With shaky hands, knuckles turning white, Sune gripped his lance. He struggled to maintain eye contact with the boy across from him, who held his weapon with experienced hands, dropping into a well-practiced stance. Sune tried to imitate Fessa’s stance, shifting uncomfortably on clumsy legs. The stronger viera shook his head, gently indicating he was doing it wrong. Again. Sune took a deep breath, shifting again, slowly, watching for Fessa’s reaction. Fessa nodded, and lunged forward.

Truthfully, Sune was hopeless in battle. Even in a mock fight like this, he shook like a leaf in the wind. The older viera, tasked with training the younger ones to become formidable wood-warders like themselves, were nearly at their wit’s end with him. Sune simply did not pick up on their teachings, weak and easily distracted. The issue was, he had no interest in fighting, or struggling to survive in solitude. He had always assumed that when he came of age that he would join the other women of the tribe in caring for their village. He had grown up surrounded by strong and impressive viera women, and something in him always assumed that would be him someday. He had watched as the others around his age had started to display certain characteristics, those that would determine their role in society for the rest of their lives. It took a bit longer for him, but eventually the time came, and he was whisked off by the other male viera. This life didn’t suit him, he had come to quickly realize.

The head of Fessa’s lance clashed with Sune’s, easily knocking it out of his hands. “You have to hold it steady, not too tight but not too loose. Being disarmed will, effectively, secure your loss against most enemies.” Fessa twirled his lance around in his hands, jamming the end of it into the dirt.

“I know, it-it’s j-j-just” Sune sighed heavily, defeated, scuffing the toe of his boots across the ground in frustration. Strong arms came from behind, wrapping around his own and adjusting his grip. 

“Like this, you needn’t squeeze the life out of it now.” Fessa chuckled, close enough to Sune’s ear to make him shiver. He took slow, deliberate breaths, focusing on the older boy’s teachings instead of how warm his arms felt. Those arms moved away, only for a moment, before Fessa placed his hands on Sune’s hips. “And you need to fix your stance, a light breeze could knock you over if you stand like this…” Gentle pushes to his hips and back had Sune standing in the proper stance. He quickly tried to memorize the feel of the stance and Fessa’s hands before he could move away. Blush colored his cheeks at the thought and he gave a nod, unable to speak. Fessa smiled innocently “Much better. We go again.” 

Fessa grabbed his lance out of the ground, spinning it in a way that could only be described as showing off, before dropping back into his own stance. He gave a nod, and lunged once more. This time, Sune would not be so easily disarmed. Fessa grinned, impressed as he jumped backwards. They circled each other, lunging and parrying in something that could actually be considered a spar this time. “Much better! What improvement a quick adjustment makes!” Fessa chuckled mirthfully, putting some more energy behind his movements. It was like a dance, the way they twirled, kicking up bits of dirt and grass in their wake. 

Then Fessa did something incredibly, and completely… Not. Fair.

Moving in close, lances clashing once more.

Fessa winked.

Embarrassingly, that was more than enough to throw Sune out of focus, his lance soon clattering to the dirt. Fessa’s own joined it as he moved in close, breathily heavily from exertion. “Very good…” he spoke softly, laying a hand on Sune’s cheek. 

“Well, I have a good t-teacher, so…” Sune was soon lost in the gray eyes that stared back at him. They held eye contact for what felt like an age. Fessa leaned his forehead against Sune’s, lips barely an ilm apart. They breathed the same air for a moment before Sune remembered, he should be angry. He pulled back indignantly, crossing his arms in front of him. “Wa-wait! Th-that was hardly f-fair! You only disarmed me because you d-d-distracted me!” 

Fessa laughed, reaching to uncross Sune’s arms and take his hands into his own. “Perhaps if you weren’t so easily distracted…” Sune’s face burned hot, cheeks turning pink. He muttered in annoyance, but didn’t pull away.

“So not fair…”