hugtopia | text

[ He can probably hear the initial burst of giggles that erupt from her at that, though they quickly quiet down. ]

Long enough for a few Fell Cleaves 💏

[He can. Era can, in turn, hear him burst out laughing.]

If I tried that I'd probably regret it. Some things aren't meant for swinging!

You're supposed to swing with your hips, hero.

It'd bounce!

[Still laughing. Still on the thing from before.]

Bounce your lovely arse over here and give me a kiss. 😘 I am trapped by a cute feathery baby. 🐥

Edited 2020-08-10 23:52 (UTC)

Yes dear.

About ten seconds later, Ardbert appears at the door with a wide smile. "Trapped, you say?"

"By a cute feathery baby."

Era gestures toward Hythlo with her tail, hands holding her communicator above her head. The amaro chick is half the size of her by now, and has sprawled over her like a feathery blanket, dead asleep with his cute face pillowed between her breasts. She has the strength to lift him, but his size makes him unwieldy to her these days.

"Peki tired him out with flying practice."

If Ardbert glances out the windows to the garden he'll see Peki dozing by the hydrangeas; face tucked under one of his wings. A big, gloriously golden ball of feathers.

"...And Hythlo tired him out with flying practice, too."

Ardbert's expression turns soft and loving. It's directed at the both of them—and at Peki when he looks out the window. There's a touch of sadness as he looks out at Peki as he thinks of Seto, and Ardbert would much rather experience that emotion than hide away behind a smile.

He joins Era, sitting down slowly at her feet on the free couch cushion as to not wake their chick. Ardbert had been out and about earlier, but had sensed the stillness when he came back into the house. Nap time is something that every 'father' worthy of the title learns to sense. Young animals and children are quiet for three reasons only: fascination, nap time, or getting into things they shouldn't. Hence the text first; the laughter he only allowed himself because he knew that Hythlo would sleep through it from previous experience.

"I'm still amazed by how well they get along." Ardbert takes one of her feet and starts to massage it, talking a bit quieter now that he's close to the sleeping amaro. "But they're both good boys, so I shouldn't be, honestly."

Edited (so we don't break the laws of physics and cause an early heat death of the universe or something) 2020-08-13 01:46 (UTC)

She shuts her communicator down for the moment, tucking it away as Ardbert takes a seat. Her soulmate's expression went unnoticed, though Era knows well enough that her chocobo often makes him yearn for Seto. There is naught she can do for that save be there for him.

"Peki has always been protective." With her hands now free, she begins stroking her fingers gently down Hythlodaeus' snout. His every breath is warm against her skin; a soft, welcome reminder of the little life she hatched from an egg. "And my little egg overflows with love for everyone."

Era goes briefly stiff as he takes one of her feet, though Ardbert is aware that she's ticklish, and also knows just the right amount of pressure to make his touch feel wonderful rather than uncomfortable. She lets out a soft, contented sigh, shifting somewhat so that the positioning is more comfortable. Hythlo doesn't even stir at her subtle shuffling, so deeply asleep that a faint snoring can still be heard by a keen ear (or horn).

"You're too good to me," Era sighs again, reaching out to stroke Ardbert's leg fondly with her tail.

There is nothing that Ardbert can do but yearn for Seto and let Era be there for him.

"Peki is a true chocobo, and Hythlodaeus is a true amaro." His softened gaze trails up the chick's body until it reaches Era's eyes. "And I'm as good to you as you deserve. As we both deserve."

He continues applying pressure, searching for sore muscles. Somehow he finds a way to look at her even more fondly as her tail finds his leg.

Era blushes as he looks at her, offering a small smile in return before quickly looking away.

"For our wedding," she begins, voice cracking ever-so-slightly as she says 'wedding'. "I know brides oft obscure their faces with a veil. I was thinking that perhaps we could wear masks from our home, and hooded cloaks tied at the collar." Her phrasing leaves no doubt that she means Amaurot. "We can unfasten each other's cloaks to let them fall and reveal our ceremony clothes, then take off each other's masks..."

While they've discussed plans before, Era had never brought up any ceremony details—just the basic things, mostly focused around the reception.

"I know you feel it, too. The sadness and yearning in our soul for the home we once shared but never knew. I want to acknowledge it somehow."

Ardbert pauses his ministrations only until he realizes he's stopped. He's heard every word she's said, and he takes time to consider them properly. Era's suggestion means a shift in what he expected their wedding to be like, and it isn't a bad one, just one he has to consider with proper respect.

"I would like that. The yearning, the pain and sorrow—I feel it, too." He pauses, then adds quieter. "They should be remembered."

Which brings him to another thought. "Could we..." His brows furrow softly. "Could we acknowledge my friends somehow? Hades, too."

Because all of them should be there, and Hades should have been on the altar with the two of them.

His question catches her by surprise. Era looks up at him with brows furrowed in confusion.

"They will have their seats reserved, of course." She had assumed this a forgone conclusion. "And Hades' presence will be with us at the altar."

If Hythlodaeus hadn't been nuzzled up against where Hades' auracite lays between her breasts, she would have taken it off for Ardbert to hold. As it is, Era can only make a faint gesture at the general region it rests.

"A kiss to his auracite before we've our first kiss as husband and wife, if you're agreeable."

Ardbert doesn't stop massaging her foot as they talk, although he's nearly done with this one.

Having reserved seats for his friends makes him smile—he's ready enough to acknowledge them more publicly—but his smile grows a bit confused as she explains what she wants for Hades.

"If that's what you want, I'll do it," Ardbert feels it's a small thing for her to ask. "But I'll admit it'll feel a bit weird for me."

The furrow in his brows returns. "I never had the chance to fall in love with him, and the only time we really touched or kissed each other was on your birthday. You got to know him intimately. Having me kiss his auracite seems like it would cheapen what the two of you had. A-And I'm not sure if he'd be okay with me doing it."

Ardbert does grieve for him, but his grief is far less profound than Era's had been. It's given him a great awareness of how far the gulf was between his potential interest in loving Hades and Era's soul deep love for him. He can feel like he would have eventually loved him, but their time was cut too short. Which means he's forever the third wheel instead of part of a threesome.

There never really had been a good chance for Ardbert to say these sorts of things to Era after Hades left, but he knows he can't keep silent about if if they're to be getting married. Especially since he feels that she should have been marrying Hades first.

She frowns in thought as he speaks, listening closely while he expresses himself.

"It's your wedding, too. What I want doesn't matter in the face of your comfort."

But with that said...

"A kiss can mean many different things. When I press my lips to his auracite it may be akin to a lingering kiss of love, or it could be as a quick kiss of appreciation to the cheek."

Era gently runs her fingers down the slope of Hythlodaeus' head; fond, affectionate, and loving.

"...But whatever feelings you have, you could never cheapen what he and I felt for each other. And I can assure you he would be more than okay with a kiss to this morbid crystal of his."

Ardbert feels grateful for her.

"Gods, he would—he'd find this entire conversation hysterical." Ardbert looks down at her foot as his hands work. "... I guess I just don't know. How I feel about Hades, I mean." He smiles weakly. "That makes the decision quite a bit harder."

Only a moment of silence passes before he thinks of a way to explain it. "... Remember how you told me about asexuality? I don't have the right words, and it's not that. I don't know what to call it. But—"

His silence lasts for longer than a moment as he cuts himself off with a sigh and furrows his brows, not sure how to formulate thoughts of something he's tried not to think about too much after putting Era's grief before his own.

"... my mind and heart are jumbles when it comes to Hades."

"He'd sit on the chair opposite us, reclining with a glass of wine. He'd have that amused little smirk on his face."

Era closes her eyes, painting the image with her words.

"An elbow resting on the arm of the chair, hand supporting his head while the other aerates his wine. His awful, slouching posture even as he sits...

"If his presence distracts us his smirk would grow wider. `Oh, no, do go on,` he'd say. " She mimics his intonation perfectly. "We'd grow flustered, and he'd grow more amused. Eventually he'd take pity on us and offer his wisdom, piece by piece, because he was so fond of drawing things out as long as possible."

The wistful, longing way Era speaks is indicative of just how badly her heart still aches over his loss. She falls silent for a moment, pushing aside the grief she has yet to truly work through.

"He disappeared before you had the chance to know him, and without knowing him you could not love him," Era offers. "You had time enough for the seed of it to be planted, but not for it to grow. Without him there to nurture it, the soil that would have supported what sprouted has instead become its grave."

He raises his eyes as she speaks back to her face. Era's description is so apt and true that it does bring a sad smile to Ardbert's face even if his heart is too heavy to fully enjoy it.

Era so succinctly puts his feelings into words that his shoulders relax with tenseness he hadn't noticed until now, and his smile falls against his sorrow. "Aye, that's the truth of it. But part of our soul knows him and loves him, but it can't ever be realized." He looks down again, closing his eyes as his motions cease. "I can't even grieve properly. How do you grieve someone you only wanted to know and love? You can remember his eccentricities so easily, so completely, and I...."

Ardbert screws up his face and blinks rapidly, surprised that tears are starting to well in his eyes. "... I've started to grieve him alongside my friends. But for them, even after over a hundred years of wandering around mindlessly trapped with only myself—I can still remember the good times. Little things each of them did that were distinctly them."

He looks upwards as if that'll stop the tears from falling. "But I was so godsdamned busy just trying to get used to being alive again that... I hardly had the chance to notice any of those things about Hades. There's hardly any memories... when we should have had time to make so many more. So that I'd have something to at least remember him by. Something to miss."

Before he can hurt himself worse, he shuts his mouth. It's too late. Ardbert's been holding this back for so long. Era's given him a sign that she can talk about Hades without breaking down or suffering too much. Which means there's room for him to express his grief, finally

It's soul deep in a way that feels like his but isn't his. It's not his, is it? Grief from his soul? Ardbert feels disjointed, and it's both right and wrong. Which, honestly, makes it all the more distressing.

"Oh, godsdamnit. I'm going to wake up the baby."

"The whole of our soul loved him, and he loved her in return. Even before the Final Days began it was a love never realized, busy as they both were." Era shares. "14,000 years of lost love that runs soul-deep is not so easy to ignore, even if you've only a small fraction of it."

She nudges Ardbert gently with her foot; reassuring. "It's all right, Ardbert. You grieve for what could have been, not what was."

Era wishes she could make his pain go away, but she can't. The only one who could is gone. Dead by her hand. She takes a small, shaky breath and strokes Hythlodaeus' forehead some more, slowly rousing him enough to ask him a question:

"Shall I tuck my little egg in for a big boy nap with Peki?"

It takes a moment for her words to sink in, but it's clear the instant they do—Hythlo's tail starts up in a sleepy wag that shakes his whole bottom half, and he lets out a groggy khrr-hrr-hrrr.

The only one that could make the pain go away is dead by their hands. Ardbert gladly gave every bit of his being to Era so that she would live and defeat Hades. He had done it to save her life, but he knew another would end in her stead. There had only ever been room for one victor.

Era expresses the words in his heart and soul. Ardbert nods to her separately for both times she speaks to him, keeping his gaze ceilingward. He needs to keep it together so she can take Hythlodaeus to Peki without the chick realizing how upset his other mother is. So he remains silent.

Hythlodaeus is sensitive enough to tell that something is not quite right as Era painstakingly adjusts her position so she can scoop the large chick into her arms. She tucks her feet under Ardbert's thigh as leverage to help her sit up, shifts Hythlo's weight, then stands with him. He lets out a confused and worried little whine and Era is quick to bounce his weight and soothe him.

"Hush hush, little egg," she hums as she heads outside. "Bábá will be all right, don't worry. Mama will take care of him."

Her words do much to reassure the baby amaro, and it doesn't take long for Era to pass him off to Peki, who is quick to tuck the chick beneath him like an overgrown hen. She gives her chocobo a very fond jaw skritch in appreciation, and when he leans his head down for her she kisses his lovely, soft brow.

Birds taken care of, Era takes a breath, steeling herself for soothing her grieving husband-to-be. She hasn't dared let herself properly grieve her fiancé, too scared of falling into that pit of despair again. She isn't sure how to help Ardbert with something doesn't know how to handle herself.

As with most things she's faced in her short life, Era decides to just make it up as she goes...

...Which is why Ardbert will find his lap suddenly occupied by his tiny wife-to-be, who has apparently decided upon the reliable route of hugging him to make him feel better.

Ardbert doesn't speak but his heart lifts a little even as it hurts that Hythlodaeus is worried for him. He's such a good little egg. The little one has taken to spending time with him when he tends to the gravestones of his friends. Hythlo has seen tears and fussed before, and Ardbert has found his lap and arms full of a quickly growing amaro. It helped. Ardbert will be forever grateful for that little egg.

He lets Era use him for leverage and doesn't speak as she leaves with the little one. When they're away, he lets the tears fall, slumping back against the couch. None of this is fair. Era had asked him to be open-minded, and he had fought to be. He had won that battle for her and Hades.

Then Hades had been taken from them, and he was left with nothing. He had his beautiful door and sometimes Era looped the pendant of Hades auracite around his neck, but he had nothing distinctly his that wasn't rooted in one place. Ardbert still had Seto's feather in his inventory, not understanding how it had gotten there. Now he had little gravestones for his friends, which wasn't the same as memorials to carry around, but it helped in the right way. But for Hades, it wasn't just him that was grieving. Era didn't seem to want a constant reminder that he was gone beyond his shard of auracite.

Ardbert had thought of the little paper Amaurot but he couldn't disturb it, both in that it was as Hades left it and the fragility of the paper. Going through Hades things searching for something to secretly take was verboten. It felt wrong to even consider. He had barely gotten a chance to begin to know Hades, to begin to acknowledge how deep there was still goodness in that man even with Tempering.

He had expected himself to calm down some by the time Era had come back, but his eyes are still filled with tears. Part of him feels like he should be sobbing, but the rest is grateful that his hormones have settled his emotions back down to how he remembered they always were. All of him is grateful when Era climbs into his lap and hugs him.

"You're so good to me," Ardbert says with a loud sniff as he wraps his arms around her. "Is there something of Hades I could... carry with me? Something I'm not likely to break with these godsdamned clumsy hands of mine."

At this point, asking is the lesser pain for them both. Era already knows he's grieving. Giving her something she can do to help him helps them both.

With her head tucked beneath his chin Era cannot see his face, but she can hear the dampness in his breath as he speaks and feel the sorrow in his soul. She holds him closer, hands rubbing small circles against his back.

She can think of nothing that fulfills his request save for the pendant she wears, and she is loathe to give it up. She still needs it, but... Ardbert needs it more. So she withdraws one arm, wrapping her fingers around the auracite shard she wears.

The faintest pulse of her aether is all it takes to undo the clasp she made. Era has taken the necklace off many times (the auracite isn't shaped well for sleeping with), but has never undone the clasp before—it was meant as a safeguard against losing such a precious keepsake. She focuses on the facets she's long since memorized, letting them press firmly against the flesh of her palm, then quietly tucks it into Ardbert's pocket.

Ardbert can't see what Era is doing but he can feel it. She's reaching for the pendant. He forgets to breathe for a moment.

When she slips her hand into his pocket to give it to him, his same arm lets go of her so he can grip her forearm tightly, his voice breaking. "I can't, Era. I can't take that from you."

Her head is still tucked under his, but the anguish in his voice is unmistakable.

"You aren't taking it from me," she tells him. Her voice is quiet and wavers, but does not break. "I'm giving it to you."

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text->voice

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WELL THIS THREAD GOT SAD

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