in peace.

I FUCKING GOT IT

and since i’ll probably never get an ocato, i wanna talk about that. because during that weird period between the simulacrum and the crisis, he and vyel get close. they were friends beforehand. good friends. but they really bonded in the post of all that occurred. he, the right hand of the emperor, she, the left. it makes sense that they become inseparable. it’s not an overnight thing, either. she trusts him, but she doesn’t trust him. not like she trusts uriel. but, there’s a moment where he extends a hand. he sees how she’s slipping, struggling, floundering for air-- and tosses her a float. after that, she leans on him. hard. and he takes it in stride. as time goes on, and wounds heal, her appreciation for him is overwhelming. and his pride in her strength is tangible.

she gets into the habit of drinking quite heavily after the simulacrum. after all the dust has settled, her usual glass of sujamma after a long day turns slowly into a glass of sujamma whenever she can squeeze it in. vyel is a functional alcoholic. a startlingly functional alcoholic. you couldn’t tell even if you really tried to see it. you’d only know if you were up close, where you can smell it coming off her. and nobody asks questions. she does her work and does it well, with no issues related to the copious drinking. sometimes, it got excessive. i mean, the habit in general was excessive, but it got really bad for short periods of time. a few weeks where she’s not all together. fumbling and slurring. sometimes making scenes. but before anyone can truly draw attention to it, she’s back in line.

she keeps the business end of the staff of chaos on her desk in her office for some time. kept on a little silver stand that the palace guard pitched in for. they get a huge kick out of it. vyel ... finds it hard to look at it. she can, and she does, every day for almost 2 years. glancing at it over her paperwork, eyeing the jagged glass and charred metal. seeing herself in the reflection; distorted and broken. in that reflection, she sees a woman heralded as a champion, as a hero. a woman who saved the empire! saved everyone. everyone but a single, unimportant person. someone who’s funeral was sorely under-attended. how can she deserve this honor if she failed to save every. single. person? in that reflection, she can see jagar laughing. laughing at her. at her shortcomings. her mistakes. she endures it every day, that aging, scowling face staring back at her. that glittering, beautiful claw-foot piece staring into her very soul. almost two years pass before she finally snaps. she picks it up and launches it across the fucking room. whatever glass remained shattering against the far door. she clear swipes her desk, destroying everything on its surface, throwing everything to the floor. she even flips the fucking thing, and is moments from torching her office. but the guard comes in.

after the emperor was freed, and what happened to him finally came to light, citizens of the imperial city flocked to the white-gold tower to see him. the penitus oculatus surrounded the base of the tower, and uriel made an appearance for the first time in several years. he explained jagar’s treachery, and assured everyone he was alright. safe. all with vyel standing close behind him. she didn’t expect him to call attention to her. well, part of her saw it coming, but she didn’t truly expect him to offer her up to the crowd. ‘this is my savior-- my champion. redoran vyel sadryn.’ she was a little baffled. stage-shook at all the eyes on her. they roared her name as uriel announced her championship. and her placement as the magister militum. i have a very strong mental image of uriel taking a slight step to the side, gesturing vyel forward.  ‘say something to them.’  and at first, she looks confounded, her bruised and battered face contorting into a thoughtful scowl. and the look of realization coming onto her face. the way she raises her hand, palm down, addressing the now-silent masses.

i’m really stuck on uriel coming out of that oblivion gate. stumbling, lost and confused. vyel, not far off, wheezing and coughing through swallowed blood and the thick, putrid air. trying to get her bearings. trying to make the world stop spinning from her place on her knees. catching uriel’s eye just as he sees her, and vyel struggling to her feet. he’s alive. he’s safe. and she does her very best to get to him, but he’s in far better shape than her. meets her halfway. absolutely engulfs her in a tight embrace. she’s so utterly shellshocked that it takes her a moment to hug back. the guard, the blades, when they finally break in to the throne room, they find their emperor, safe and sound, still clinging to his champion.