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‘You deserve some downtime. Why don’t you check the event held in Gridania? They said they opened the Haukke Manor for public and imps offer harmless shape shifting entertainment. Why don’t you go unwind some in good company?’ Tataru had offered with a well-meaning smile.
Imber did not find the heart to blame the lalafel for sending him tither despite the situation he found himself in. Harmless merrymaking, wandering about in the Haukke Manor repurposed for revelry while voidsent entertain guests for a living.
He found himself separated from his companions at a turn and the way back didn’t look like the way in anymore; going forward as well got him back to where he began. The rooms seemed to keep looping back no matter where he went. Eventually the Warrior of Light dropped his weight in momentary defeat on a couch in the room he found himself in.
‘I must be really tired to not see the trap I walked into but I’m certainly not tired enough to be paranoid or hallucinating. Show yourself.’ the miqo’te cast his vexing golden-turning gaze to a blurred patch of aether trying to sneak about his figure.
‘Cat’s out of the bag? Aw. I thought I was pretty well concealed.’ the voice sounded much closer and the blur became less perceptible as it spoke with feigned disappointment. Next time he heard it, it was right by his ear and a warm hand was resting heavy on his shoulder. It gave him quite the weird sort of shivers and goosebumps. The miqo’te leapt to feet in the middle of the room, nigh pushing the couch backwards with the force of it.
‘Whoa, no need to get so worked up. You seem like you need some relaxing, won’t you indulge in the occasion? I can certainly help with that.’ What Imber figured to be one of the voidsents the more he concentrated on perceiving its aether spoke in a low raspy voice.
‘Your voice, you can change it at will huh. What a sick joke…’ He felt his heart beat become faster and uneven at the familiarity of that voice. He could swear he heard laughter and it made his chest feel tight like a cage.
‘Been a while since, hasn’t it?’
‘I refuse to play by your games. If this is your illusion dispel it at once and I’ll leave you be. I’m don't have time for this.’
‘It certainly doesn’t feel that way.’ He felt the voice wander about him, now unable to see its aether blur anymore. Felt its fleeting touch caress his chest, feel his pulse under its hand. He tried to bat it away but it was gone the instant he thought the strike would connect.
‘Easy there, I can tell you’re feisty without getting aggressive. Afterall, I know you well don’t I?’
‘Do you?’ he spat back with a bitter smile. The voice sounded nonchalant in reply.
‘My power brings out people’s desires and their inner thoughts. If these halls keep looping, it’s not me, it’s you who’s doing it. I’m merely the vessel. And you’re our guest. I’m serving, as I should. You wished for this moment of solace, away from the world’s prying eyes. Your heart’s squeezed tight with longing and worry, your body shivers cold, lonely and without the touch it longs for. You thirst for affection of one certain. What a baffling creature you are, all of it is in your grasp and you refuse to reach your hand…why is that?’ A hand caressed gently upwards the miqo’te’s thigh, playing with the opening edge of his coat.
‘You give me so many ways to play with you.’ He could feel the smile curl on these lips, touching the side of his neck. Imber tried to blink away the stupor but opening his eyes again left him rooted in place.
‘Give in, let me soothe your aches. The weight on your shoulders isn’t meant to be carried alone.’ For all it was worth, the voidsent did sound brutally sincere in that moment, with a hint of concern. He felt like seared from inside by tears threatening to spill. Imber felt a warm palm brush the side of his face, cupping his cheek and the face of the voidsent that finally showed itself struck him with so many feelings at once. He grasped these shoulders with a strong grip and hid his face in the crook of their neck.
My heart’s beating so loud, I can’t damn hear my thoughts. Why is this all getting to me so much, it’s just an illusion.
‘I hate to break it to you but you might not hear well your thoughts but I can. You got so many feelings bottled up over there. I’m impressed you didn’t break yet. Let me help you.’
I hate you so much, this hurts so bad. You’re so cruel.
‘Someone might be inclined to think you like it this way. How’s that? Did I sound as cruel as you make me be? This is all you.’ The voidsent’s words contrasted with their embrace. Imber felt the form cradle his, supporting his weight and he lessened the grip on their shoulders. It felt tight, warm and right in every way. Except he couldn’t find it real. It just felt bitter but he needed it so he obliged the kindness. The white hair meshes framed his view from the side and brushed against his cheek pleasantly. Strong arms that held his figure steady were now wandering about on his back in soothing motions, sometimes teasing instead.
‘You’re afraid to lose them all again. But you’re all aware that’s one risk you took, each for your own reason, even when you stay united in cause side by side. You lost some of them regardless. Pried some from the hands of death. Some found their way back to you, perhaps in pieces, but alive.’
‘You have duties that call to you, to your morals, to your very being. You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t meet effort for effort and beyond the hopes of these souls you mean to save.’
Imber found his mind wandering to the lives lost in the Waking Sands, to Papalymo and to Moenbryda, to Haurchefant, to Y’shtola and Thancred, to Minfilia. It was unbearably painful and sad yet they all took choices they assumed themselves. He couldn’t help but feel like maybe…there was another way. Maybe if he was a little stronger. A little smarter. A little more perceptive.
‘What am I going to do with you…I’m but a succubus. I can help you in some ways…’ They -Imber felt odd to call the voidsent a she even if they did reveal their nature as it currently had a male form, probably the work of an imp’s support as well in order to disguise in the shape they currently held, spun from his inner thoughts and desire- continued with teasing touches and he felt like entranced, even with the key of escaping it all in the palm of his hand.
‘…but the rest is up to him. He would not deny you; you know this well. You’re stubborn or blind or both or you just pretend to. He looked happy to see you, after what’s been days for you and years for him. I daresay he looked even happier than you.’
Imber’s heart skipped a beat, listening to the voice like a balm brushed onto wounds. He hated that he felt himself hoping from a mere few words. He wanted to deny the rush of thoughts. Had it all bottled, locked tight in a box with lock and key. So full and ready to burst but invisible to naked eye.
‘Your steps carry you eachother’s way. Your kindness touched him, put together a couple or more pieces, bloomed into something beautiful were you to cast your gaze unto it. He looks out for you. And you do for him. What’s wrong with hoping something deeper may grow? Perhaps it has already.’ Their voice grew deeper and more hushed and the miqo’te felt shivers down his spine. Right and wrong were blending into a mellow white tinged with warm gold.
‘Let me weave the path for you.’ Imber blinked in confusion as the voidsent suddenly let go and world around him felt unsteady. ‘Face yourself truly and your heart will guide you true. And when the time comes do not forget me. I will not forget you. I’m looking forward to our next meeting.’ And the voidsent pressed a firm gloved hand to his chest, pushing him effortlessly through a tear in the aether veil. The feeling of being underwater-yet-not-quite surrounded him.
Imber gasped in panic for air as he materialized out of breath next to the aetherite in Crystarium’s plaza. His mind was swimming from the shock of being thrown into the aetherial sea and the struggle to focus his thoughts to a safe travel point before getting lost. It seemed like the voidsent couldn’t that easily tear into the fabric between stars on its own but still it managed to tear into the aetherial sea. The thought of experiencing Y’shtola’s and Thancred’s misadventures adrift the aetherial sea filled him with dread.
‘Imber? To what do we owe the pleasure? I thought you bidden to rest on the Source for the while?’ The figure clad in white crouched by his side, scanning him with worried gaze.
Thancred.
‘Were I to explain, it would be hard to believe. And I’d rather not have...Y’shtola concerned.’ His face flushed slightly and his expression took a hint of awkwardness. He was glad at least that the shock of being immersed in the aetherial sea briefly knocked him out of the haze. It felt like someone doused him in cold water and it served well to calm his body, in part. The other part was struggling in the very close proximity to the subject of his woes, after what had transpired on the Source.
‘How about you explain it to me then, privately? We can take it from there.’ He offered a hand and Imber took it willingly. He was glad for the fact very few people were within earshot and even gladder Thancred had been quick on the uptake. Although he had a nagging thought that his expression might have revealed a little too much to the gunbreaker, perceptive as he was.
‘The Exarch is currently discussing with Urianger and Y’shtola so we’d better not disturb them in the Occular. Would it be too assuming to trust you’d rather we spoke in your quarters at the Pendants?’
‘You would be assuming right.’
I’d hate to have to explain it specifically to these three, he thought to himself dryly.
‘If you’re not opposed though, I’d rather walk there than port again. I think I had enough of an experience with that for the moment.’
‘I’m not adverse. Shall we?’ Thancred hauled Imber to feet, letting go only when he assumed his legs weren’t shaking anymore. The miqo’te pinched himself mentally for mourning the loss of physical touch so fast, but the warmth of Thancred's touch lingered pleasantly on his skin.
Back at Imber’s suite at the Pendants, Thancred grabbed a chair and dragged it by the bed, turning it backrest forward and sat down, arms crossed over the rest. Imber sat on the edge of the bed, thumbing the rim of a glass of water, tilting its contents around, trying to sort out his thoughts.
‘So? What brought you here so shaken, if you don’t mind me asking?’ Ever elegantly flourished while straight to the point, that’s Thancred for many. Imber found himself glad to hear his voice and not a voidsent mimicking it. It was grounding of sorts, even though his nerves were still stretched taut like a bowstring. And he hadn’t even started telling the whole ordeal. He took a deep breath and crossed his ankles, making the bed creak, shifting his weight about. The silence felt a little too long and empty. And he spoke. Of Tataru’s well-intended offer, of losing his way in the manor, of the voidsent, of everything.
If he had to be honest for a change about it, it felt liberating. All the more for the effect it had on Thancred’s worried expression that began to unwind at he went on with retelling the recent events.
‘Ah. I see how it is.’ There was something uncharacteristic in that, a little crack. A very little but obviously visible crack in his composed front.
‘I will not deny that’s stuff basically tailored to worry us and I can see why you’re reluctant to speak to Y’shtola about it but we’ll see to that later. Right.’ He stood off the chair, pushing it tentatively backwards but his mind was elsewhere, taking a couple of steps forward and settling down on the edge of the bed next to Imber, to the dark blue haired miqo'te's visible confusion.
‘I believe we have something else to do before that though.’ There was a playful hint in his tone that soothed his nerves to a sensation far more pleasant. Nothing bad has happened yet and all in all he felt relieved; he counted himself lucky the voidsent spoke true and he travelled in one piece none worse for the wear sans the scare. It felt terribly selfish to disclose all those feelings and in such context, far too much for his taste and coming to terms with all that was unnerving. His hands felt like ice while his face was heated in contrast. Neither of them were the sort to speak openly about their feelings and that was painfully obvious, though that made it so comfortable to share the company of eachother often. He felt guilty about confessing these feelings so, as if that was silently compelling Thancred to do the same. Whatever he thought about all of it, accept or deny him, as long as the pressing moment would come to pass. It felt like an eternity until the next moment Thancred spoke.
‘I...am sorry.’ Imber felt like someone drenched him in cold rain water, for the second time that day, but he still listened. He owed him that much if nothing else.
‘I must’ve caused you a great load of trouble.’ Thancred looked him in the eye, gold staring into gold. Suddenly he felt awkward. There were a lot of shared things among them. Thancred understood his frustration well; about being partly aether incapacitated in the aftermath of the blows exchanged with Zenos while the Exarch tried to tug him to the other side of the veil. He was patient with teaching him the same way he learned himself to deal with the sudden loss, even though Imber’s didn’t seem just as serious as his own.
In turn Imber felt like he made them worry instead of being their hope. He wasn’t used to the amount of care and worry the Scions harbored for him, all the more with his current odd aether affliction that somehow, under the light aether overflowing within the First, had steadily turned his blue eyes golden starting with his wounded one; a condition that baffled both Urianger and Y’shtola and gave them ground to wring the Crystal Exarch for his reckless summonings.
He got pulled back from his thoughts by a warm hand on his cheek.
‘I’ve never been good at relying on others or being honest, no matter how weird that might seem coming from me. I...don’t always have the right words on me. But I believe I owe you some of the sort of words harder to get out.’ There was a pause and Imber hung on every word, eyes trained on the hyur, flitting from his eyes to his lips. When he spoke again, it was much softer and with an undertone Imber felt down his spine more than he perceived it with his ears.
‘I only ask you forgive me for making them known another way and for being selfish.’ He tilted his chin in his palm and angled his face closer to his own, meeting halfway.
It felt like something snapped and warmth spread through his body, soothing everything. Imber closed his eyes, drinking in the feeling of Thancred’s plush, warm lips moving against his own. His head felt like swimming and sinking at the same time, overwhelmed by all the feelings and sensations at once.
Perhaps he could indeed hope. Perhaps he could let these hands undo the fetters he kept onto himself. He reached out a tentative hand to steady himself against the hyur’s chest. The heartbeat under his palm felt reassuring and about as agitated as his own if not more.
‘Can I hope…to take this a little further with you? Don’t feel obliged to say yes just because of the context though.’ Thancred asked still, even as the miqo’te gave in to the movement, leaning back onto the mattress with him hovering over.
‘Yes and yes.’ The miqo’te reached both hands towards the hyur, wondering how to piece together the puzzle, his mind adjusting to the long denied option of something being possible between the two of them. He cradled his face as if it was fragile, mapping the curves and angles of it under his thumbs.
Perhaps he could indeed hope.