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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."

She had let him borrow it before while they were together, but never like this. Godsdamnit. He wasn't going to let her hurt herself like this.

"I can't accept it." His voice is steadier, surprisingly. "I meant a trinket, Era. Just a small anything affected by his magicks... not this. Not something you can't spare."

"I—" Her breath catches. "For you, it's something I can spare."

Though she does try to think of anything that might work as substitute. Something better suited to him.

"It would only bring me pain to know you didn't have it." Ardbert's voice is gentle. "I just need something. Not your most precious item. Anything he's made, no matter how mundane. Just so long as it can fit into a pocket or be worn. I'm not picky."

He's not crying anymore due to the short burst of adrenaline that went through him and sent his heart rate up.

"His clothes were almost entirely of his own creation... You are welcome to them," she offers after a long moment. "And the plush I made you used one of his robes."

Ardbert lets go of her arm and shifts his head so he can look at her. He fishes fish the pendant out and press it back into her hand, or at least tries. He's thoughtful.

"The plush has been a godssend." Especially when Era wouldn't touch him. "And I do wear his clothes at times... but I was thinking something small like this. Something that could be made into a pendant like you did with this auracite."

Era refuses to take it back, pushing his hand gently away. "Keep it for today." It isn't a request. "I will... think of an alternative for you."

Ardbert acquiesces at that, letting out a bit of a sigh. "For today."

It's a moment before he speaks again. " ... will you put it around my neck?"

She doesn't verbalize her answer, but the way she relents and takes the pendant back from his hand is answer enough. When she holds up each end of the chain, preparing to place it around his neck, it's evident there is no clasp.

It takes more aether to fuse it back together than it did to separate, but Era manages it in one fluid motion—hands snaking around to the nape of his neck, forearms resting on his shoulders as she secures her most precious keepsake around the neck of her most precious person.

Ardbert slowly makes himself relax after she takes the necklace. He's known there hasn't been a clasp for forever. Era likely used aether to split the chain apart, and when he closes his eyes and focuses on sensing, he indeed can tell she's using aether to fuse and unfuse the chain.

When the aether fades, he opens his eyes with her so near to him. Ardbert slips both arms around her again properly. He's grateful for the weight on his lap as he smiles quietly down to her.

"Thank you, Era." He kisses the scales on the bridge of her nose. "But remember you don't need to invalidate your feelings to validate the feelings of others, all right?"

Her nose scrunches up in reflex at the kiss despite how she leans into it, a small smile tugging at her lips. The smile quickly fades at his words, brows knitting together as her expression shifts to confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"Giving me his auracite without thinking about how it would hurt you," Ardbert replies gently, keeping one arm around her while his other hand starts to stroke down her tail. "Hurting yourself for my sake will only hurt me in turn."

He sighs, looking into her eyes with a softened gaze. "I'm still overly reliant on you, still adjusting to life. Give too much to me, and I'll only start loathing myself. You give just the right amount now that I don't even have to worry about falling over the rocky precipice. But there have been times I have dangled just off that cliff, only holding on by broken and bleeding fingers. Sometimes you've pulled me back from falling, and other times, I've pulled myself back up. But taking something like Hades's auracite from you forever would crumble the rock beneath me, and I'd fall into that pit without any way of climbing back out."

He breaks his gaze, looking down and to the side. "I felt that way the entire time I was on the Source. The over a hundred years I was a shade, cursed to do naught but drift. But even though my heart hurts now, I'm at peace with myself—and I never want to loathe myself for hurting those I love ever again. All right?"

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WELL THIS THREAD GOT SAD

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