[That message is so confusing that he's not even going to try to figure it out by texting. He doesn't think there's any reason for him to be in trouble. Yet it sounds like he's in trouble?]
Esteem doesn't bother responding further as there's no need of it. Instead they take the time to lead the recently-awoken Hythlodaeus outside to Peki, who offers them a chipper greeting. They give the young amaro a pat on the head (much to his delight, as he hardly gets to see them), and then gives the chocobo's jaw a firm scratch just how he likes it.
"Be good," Esteem tells the two of them, then tosses them each a sylkis bud before heading back inside.
Era has curled herself up in her armchair, fast asleep after a long run and warm shower, looking small and vulnerable in a way Esteem dislikes. They pick up a throw and drape it over her, tugging the corners until their better half is thoroughly covered. Era ruins it immediately by grasping the blanket in her sleep, curling her fingers in the soft fabric and clutching it closer to her face like a child with a plush.
They sigh, tucking loose strands of wet curls behind her horn before lounging on the couch out of view of the doorway. Their position provides the opportunity to mess with Ardbert even more, and Esteem is not a good enough person to pass it up.
Ardbert arrives home sooner than he said he would. He opens the door and closes it behind him, eyes softening as he catches sight of Era. The warrior quietly puts down his shopping bag, removes his shoes with his feet, and slips into his slippers.
Something is off. Ardbert has long regained his instincts, and he's not been one to doubt them. He frowns, looking around and locating the blind spots from his vantage point. If he can't see them, they can't see him. Ardbert tenses, prepared to pull his axe out of his inventory if he needs it.
Even in her sleep, Era always knows when Ardbert is near; her soul all but reaching out for its other piece. It's almost sickening. Esteem appreciates it all the same, as it means they also know when the man arrives.
They remain where they are, draped irreverently across the cushions of the couch, taking up as much space as possible (and doing a damned good job of it). They rest a leg over a knee, then pillow the back of their head on crossed arms to keep their horns from pressing into the cushioning. Despite wearing her form Esteem is very clearly not Era—at least to those who know her well enough. Era is soft not just in the structure of her face but in most other ways as well; expressions, speech, mannerisms.
Esteem is sharp, though their hardened edges are somewhat smoothed by the roundness of her face. Their body language is casual in the way of a coeurl just waiting for the right moment to strike. They have an undercurrent of danger; the air of someone with incredible power who is also more than willing to use it.
But they are still just Era's shadow. For all that they make no effort to reign in their presence, it will always pale in comparison to hers. She will always shine bright enough to overshadow them, even when she does her best to dampen herself and shy away from attention.
It is infuriating. Esteem loves her all the more for it.
Which is why they also have to love Ardbert, even if they don't want to.
It was the undercurrent of danger and the changes that come with it that Ardbert senses. Or maybe it's the differences in the aether around him. Regardless, Ardbert realizes he won't be needing his axe today.
Probably.
He lets out a soft sigh filled with a mixture of disappointment, annoyance, and amusement as he realizes why the text had sounded so strange. "Esteem. Called me home to threaten me if I ever hurt her, body and soul, have you?"
"No," they retort, not bothering to look at him. Esteem remains perfectly still save for the slow rise and fall of the foot propped up by their knee.
"If I felt the need to threaten you you wouldn't deserve her. Besides," Esteem's otherwise boredly matter-of-fact tone takes on an edge of dark amusement. "If retribution is ever required I'm hardly going to warn you of it."
Ardbert smirks at the reply; they can call it what it is, but this is a warning of a similar nature all the same. He walks into the room until he can see Esteem properly. Esteem's chosen clothing is very much not like Era's.
"Good. If I ever become that sort of man, I expect you to dispose of me properly." Ardbert sits down in his ugly chair. "Without a warning."
Esteem's choice of outfit is not one Era has in her wardrobe, and certainly not of her usual style in Havenwell. It is, however, a style she enjoys and has yet to realize.
"Gladly."
It's tempting to go ahead and do that anyway, though with Era sleeping they're left without a sword or their armour. The fact that it would cause her unbearable pain is also a primary factor in Esteem's current 'mercy.'
"Then things could return to how they were before, when she was only mine."
Not to mention that killing him would be temporary here and only serve to cause Era pain. No reward other than momentary satisfaction. Ruins the fun, really.
Ardbert's eyebrows go up at that statement, and he's smart enough to not laugh at it. "Even if 'I' die, my soul is still within hers. I gave up my entire existence to save her. Shouldn't that count for something?"
"I'm well aware of where your soul is, as it's become far too crowded." They let out a derisive snort, though Ardbert's query causes their tail to twitch. "Allowing you to be with her is your 'something'."
Sensing the faintest fluctuation of aether from their better half, Esteem glances over to Era.
"And yet you can't even tell that she wants you to hold her," they add, shooting Ardbert a haughty look and flicking the tip of their tail dismissively.
Ardbert needs no more encouragement. He stands and walks over to where Era is sleeping. Slowly and gently, he moves the blanket and her until he can wiggle in partially beside her, partially under her. Era's gets shifted to rest against him, and Ardbert takes care to support her head as he shifts her into the position she likes best.
"She gets that way from time to time. Nothing more you can do than let her, honestly. Creativity is that way... especially when it's your own wedding dress."
Era stirs at Ardbert's touch, though only enough to murmur his name and snuggle closer against him, face tucked in the dip of his neck, before going boneless once more. Esteem watches for a moment, shifting to lay flat again only once Ardbert does that unbearably sappy gesture.
"You are aware that I know her better than you ever will, aren't you?"
He smiles down at Era, relaxing himself. "It's not a contest. You can do things for her that I can't. The same goes in reverse. If she didn't need you, you wouldn't be here."
"It wasn't meant as a contest, but merely a statement of fact. I am her. I am privy to every detail of her life. You telling me what she's like is a waste of breath."
It's exceptionally hard to read Esteem, enough so that it makes Ardbert feel off his game. He had thought they had meant it as a rival, not as merely a statement of fact. Is Esteem out for another reason besides just to threaten and poke at him? Gods, he's not used to roundabout conversations. Not to mention, reading Esteem is impossible, and it reminds him of an uncomfortable truth that sometimes, he gets things wrong about people.
The last time he had completely misread someone, most of his world had been erased in the Flood.
Ardbert keeps his eyes on Era, finding solid ground in her slumbering face, although he's clearly starting to feel uneasy. Esteem is picking at his words and throwing them back at him, and Ardbert's quickly realizing he's completely unused to adversarial conversations anymore. In fact, he's fairly certain this is the first proper one he's had in over a hundred years.
"That's not what I...." Ardbert cuts himself off with a sigh, realizing Esteem won't care that he was stating something they both knew in an attempt to find common ground. "Nevermind."
His sigh causes Era to shift in her sleep, snaking an arm lazily over him and murmuring something unintelligible against his skin. Esteem remains silent until they're certain Era has fallen back into a deeper sleep.
"You're upset."
While they don't particularly care about his feelings, an upset Ardbert makes for an upset Era, which is something that matters to Esteem.
He's unhappy, but less unhappy than he was a moment earlier with Era holding him closer.
... It confuses him that Esteem isn't prodding that fact or mocking him, and the corner of his mouth quirks up in dark humor. "No, uncomfortable. I'm out of practice with arguing and roundabout conversations. You can run circles around me and turn my words this way and that, and I have no bloody defense against you. I couldn't speak to anyone in over a hundred years, and then I could speak with Era."
Era is straightforward if anything, and they are of the same mind so often that arguing is almost impossible.
"As if you ever had any skill with it, even before things all went to shite." A snort. A pause. "Not that you had any need. That was what the others were for."
He nods, blinking a few times rapidly as he looks down at Era. "Me, a married man. They'll have a good laugh at that."
Ardbert grows quiet. He pretends that he's been okay with his friends being dead. It was easier when he was dead. But now he's alive, and they're... not. Peki is here, and Seto isn't. It's nothing he'll hold against anyone.
Yet it still hurts. At least he's gotten used to feeling that sadness with a body again. He won't deny it release, but sometimes that release has to happen when he's alone.
"I'm sure one of them would comment on how the only one fool enough to wed you was yourself."
They aren't deaf to the silence, nor is Era's soul blind to the encroaching sadness. Even in slumber it curls around him like a gentle spring breeze; drapes across his shoulders like the most delicate of linens.
Esteem leaves Era to comfort him as only she can, allowing Ardbert relative privacy for a few long minutes.
Ardbert surprised to feel appreciative towards Esteem considering how the rest of the conversation had been going. Esteem's first comment is a jab they would happily give. The second comment is after giving him some time to think privately, and it acknowledges the truth he's been fighting to acknowledge.
He's lived his life without regrets, but there's still voids of empty space where his friends can never be.
"... aye, it does. Especially when you have barely started. I thought I was at peace with them being gone. Turns out it only seemed that way because I hadn't a body to feel the pain."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
look just because he doesn't have any terebinth....
I'll be home in ten.
[That message is so confusing that he's not even going to try to figure it out by texting. He doesn't think there's any reason for him to be in trouble. Yet it sounds like he's in trouble?]
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"Be good," Esteem tells the two of them, then tosses them each a sylkis bud before heading back inside.
Era has curled herself up in her armchair, fast asleep after a long run and warm shower, looking small and vulnerable in a way Esteem dislikes. They pick up a throw and drape it over her, tugging the corners until their better half is thoroughly covered. Era ruins it immediately by grasping the blanket in her sleep, curling her fingers in the soft fabric and clutching it closer to her face like a child with a plush.
They sigh, tucking loose strands of wet curls behind her horn before lounging on the couch out of view of the doorway. Their position provides the opportunity to mess with Ardbert even more, and Esteem is not a good enough person to pass it up.
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Something is off. Ardbert has long regained his instincts, and he's not been one to doubt them. He frowns, looking around and locating the blind spots from his vantage point. If he can't see them, they can't see him. Ardbert tenses, prepared to pull his axe out of his inventory if he needs it.
Godsdamnit....
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They remain where they are, draped irreverently across the cushions of the couch, taking up as much space as possible (and doing a damned good job of it). They rest a leg over a knee, then pillow the back of their head on crossed arms to keep their horns from pressing into the cushioning. Despite wearing her form Esteem is very clearly not Era—at least to those who know her well enough. Era is soft not just in the structure of her face but in most other ways as well; expressions, speech, mannerisms.
Esteem is sharp, though their hardened edges are somewhat smoothed by the roundness of her face. Their body language is casual in the way of a coeurl just waiting for the right moment to strike. They have an undercurrent of danger; the air of someone with incredible power who is also more than willing to use it.
But they are still just Era's shadow. For all that they make no effort to reign in their presence, it will always pale in comparison to hers. She will always shine bright enough to overshadow them, even when she does her best to dampen herself and shy away from attention.
It is infuriating. Esteem loves her all the more for it.
Which is why they also have to love Ardbert, even if they don't want to.
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Probably.
He lets out a soft sigh filled with a mixture of disappointment, annoyance, and amusement as he realizes why the text had sounded so strange. "Esteem. Called me home to threaten me if I ever hurt her, body and soul, have you?"
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"If I felt the need to threaten you you wouldn't deserve her. Besides," Esteem's otherwise boredly matter-of-fact tone takes on an edge of dark amusement. "If retribution is ever required I'm hardly going to warn you of it."
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"Good. If I ever become that sort of man, I expect you to dispose of me properly." Ardbert sits down in his ugly chair. "Without a warning."
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"Gladly."
It's tempting to go ahead and do that anyway, though with Era sleeping they're left without a sword or their armour. The fact that it would cause her unbearable pain is also a primary factor in Esteem's current 'mercy.'
"Then things could return to how they were before, when she was only mine."
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Ardbert's eyebrows go up at that statement, and he's smart enough to not laugh at it. "Even if 'I' die, my soul is still within hers. I gave up my entire existence to save her. Shouldn't that count for something?"
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Sensing the faintest fluctuation of aether from their better half, Esteem glances over to Era.
"And yet you can't even tell that she wants you to hold her," they add, shooting Ardbert a haughty look and flicking the tip of their tail dismissively.
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Ardbert sighs at that accusation. "Because we're talking so I might wake her, and I thought you'd rather I not."
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Esteem says this as though it's the most obvious thing in the world. They then roll their eyes and, oddly enough, it's directed toward Era.
"And she's hardly slept the past three days. Your touch would do no more than deepen her slumber."
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"She gets that way from time to time. Nothing more you can do than let her, honestly. Creativity is that way... especially when it's your own wedding dress."
Unable to help himself, Ardbert kisses her hair.
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"You are aware that I know her better than you ever will, aren't you?"
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In short: they find it irritating.
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The last time he had completely misread someone, most of his world had been erased in the Flood.
Ardbert keeps his eyes on Era, finding solid ground in her slumbering face, although he's clearly starting to feel uneasy. Esteem is picking at his words and throwing them back at him, and Ardbert's quickly realizing he's completely unused to adversarial conversations anymore. In fact, he's fairly certain this is the first proper one he's had in over a hundred years.
"That's not what I...." Ardbert cuts himself off with a sigh, realizing Esteem won't care that he was stating something they both knew in an attempt to find common ground. "Nevermind."
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"You're upset."
While they don't particularly care about his feelings, an upset Ardbert makes for an upset Era, which is something that matters to Esteem.
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... It confuses him that Esteem isn't prodding that fact or mocking him, and the corner of his mouth quirks up in dark humor. "No, uncomfortable. I'm out of practice with arguing and roundabout conversations. You can run circles around me and turn my words this way and that, and I have no bloody defense against you. I couldn't speak to anyone in over a hundred years, and then I could speak with Era."
Era is straightforward if anything, and they are of the same mind so often that arguing is almost impossible.
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... that came out more bitter than he had intended.
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Ardbert grows quiet. He pretends that he's been okay with his friends being dead. It was easier when he was dead. But now he's alive, and they're... not. Peki is here, and Seto isn't. It's nothing he'll hold against anyone.
Yet it still hurts. At least he's gotten used to feeling that sadness with a body again. He won't deny it release, but sometimes that release has to happen when he's alone.
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They aren't deaf to the silence, nor is Era's soul blind to the encroaching sadness. Even in slumber it curls around him like a gentle spring breeze; drapes across his shoulders like the most delicate of linens.
Esteem leaves Era to comfort him as only she can, allowing Ardbert relative privacy for a few long minutes.
"Grief takes time."
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He's lived his life without regrets, but there's still voids of empty space where his friends can never be.
"... aye, it does. Especially when you have barely started. I thought I was at peace with them being gone. Turns out it only seemed that way because I hadn't a body to feel the pain."
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