[SE] cool as a cucumber on fire

Zavien

Happiness is a choice that requires effort at times

He'd sent the letter yesterday, full of terrible spelling and a picture of the new Tower drawn by a local artist. It had detailed his appreciation as well as an apology for not reaching out sooner. There was no explanation given besides regret for the circumstances, a longish ramble about how instrumental her soldiers were and a desire to express his gratitude. He knew it wasn't enough to just send a letter, and he didn't like leaving things the way they had ended last time, so he's asked to meet with her in person. 

Worry and anticipation distract him from his already pathetic navigation skills, and when he steps into a cave to escape the sweltering heat and find their meeting spot, he winds up lost in a twisting labyrinth of tunnels. Sol seems to think they're on the right path, but Zavien isn't sure turning right for the sixth time is the kind of progress that will get them to the right spot. It does lead them to a larger cavern, one that he pauses in to pull a bottle of lemonade from his bag, crouching against the damp wall with a disheartened sigh. 

Zavien takes a sip of the drink before offering to pour some out for Sol, giving his companion a grimacing smile as he says, "Hopefully Flora doesn't think we stood her up." The dragon trills confidently, his tongue reaching out to lap at the cool drink as Zavien asks for the fiftieth time, "Are you sure this is the way to the spot?" He'd been assured by people that it was as simple as entering the tunnel closest to the lemonade stand, but there had been too many to pick from, and now he fears no one will find his body.

slow down, you're doing fine

The heat in Rae’s Fingers is a living thing, thick and pressing, clinging to Flora’s skin like a second, unwanted layer. LongHeat spares no one, and Torchline least of all, so she has dressed accordingly—bare shoulders, bare legs, as little fabric as decency and practicality will allow—gold jewellery warm against her throat and wrists, curls pinned up in a messy knot that already threatens rebellion. Even here, with the sea breathing in and out through the tunnels, the air tastes of salt and damp stone and heat that refuses to move.

Spice perches near her feet, pale and small and alert, frost-sheened breath a quiet blessing in the cavern’s mouth. Flora glances down at her watch again, lips pressing together as the seconds slip by, then the minutes, then enough time that courtesy has officially expired. She exhales sharply through her nose and tips her head, aqua eyes dropping to the little dragon with a look that is equal parts incredulous and unimpressed. "Well," she murmurs, voice smooth despite the edge coiled beneath it, "how likely do you think it is that this is Zavien’s idea of revenge?"

Spice chirrs softly, tail flicking, a whisper of cold curling around Flora’s ankle as if in consolation or commentary. The queen's gaze lifts again toward the dark mouths of the tunnels, each one yawning and indistinguishable from the last, smugglers’ marks half-hidden along the stone like private jokes she very much does not appreciate right now. With a sigh, she widens her eyes at Spice, exaggerating the expression just enough to soften the irritation curling through her chest. "Do you think we go looking for him," she asks lightly, silk over steel, "or do you think we take the hint and head home?"

Flora

you can't be everything you wanna be before your time

Zavien

Happiness is a choice that requires effort at times

The dragon's tiny pink tongue darts out, tasting the decadent balance of sweet and sour. He gives a grumbling purr, his tongue moving faster to take in more of the treat. Tilting his head up, he has his mouth nearly open, inhaling the drink through sharp teeth that make Zavien laugh. "I'm glad you like it. Maybe Flora will go easy on us when she tries - "

Suddenly, Sol is alert, jaw snapping shut and wings flaring as he looks down a nearby shoot of dark tunnel. Without warning, he bolts, wings and tail trailing like ribbons behind his fleeing form. Zavien starts, stunned by the abrupt interruption. "Sol!" He jumps to his feet, half fumble and half soldierly precision as he rushes to find balance for a quick pursuit. "Wait!" 

Zavien can hear a chirp ahead, guiding him when he can no longer see the glimmer of golden scales. It only further frustrates him, a low groan echoing through while he follows at a run. "If we're going to be lost, we should at least stick together! Don't just run - " 

When he rounds the corner at a sprint, the tunnel opens up before him, a haze of sunlight making it through to dark, forcing him to a stop so he can raise his hand against the force of nature. His words cut short when he spots a silhouette just outside the opening, squinting until the bright assault fades enough for him to see Sol sitting proudly in front of the exact person they'd been looking for. 

Feeling rather stupid - for being caught, for being late, for being an idiot - Zavien lowers his hand. "Oh." He pauses, not sure what to say at first. Does he thank her for the soldiers? Apologize for insulting her last time? Mention the Tower's completion? Apologize for not reaching out sooner? Would it be rude not to ask how she is?

Logically, he settles on the most recent misstep. Trying to infuse some confidence into his form, he finally moves to join her. His usual smile is painted with caution, a half grimace at the unfortunate situation he's put himself in. "I'm really sorry. I hope you weren't waiting long. Obviously, the tunnel was a mistake. It sounded simple enough when they described the route..." He looked back at the dark path, cutting off another rambling stream of apologies to silently vow never to enter the labyrinth again. 

His loud sigh catches the rocky walls as he turns to pull the second bottle of lemonade from his pocket. It's still somewhat cool thanks to the shaded tunnel system, although he's sure Spice can chill it more if Flora wants. "This is for you. It's the reason we got turned around." The bottle is offered forward, the similarity to a handshake not lost on him. Meeting her gaze, Zavien adds a nervous yet sincere, "Thanks for coming."

slow down, you're doing fine

The chirp reaches Spice before anything else does, a sharp, curious sound that cuts cleanly through the humid hush of the cavern. Flora feels her companion's response to it, and a heartbeat later Spice lifts into the air, wings catching the light as she drifts slightly deeper into the tunnel with unmistakable interest.

Flora straightens just slightly from where she has been leaning against the cave wall, one bare shoulder brushing damp stone as Zavien emerges into the sunlight at her back in a wash of brightness and shadow, and Flora’s brow lifts in cool, lazy acknowledgement. She does not move to meet him, but she does not step away either. She simply watches, the picture of ease, the kind that comes from knowing exactly where one stands. "It’s no problem," she says, voice smooth and unhurried, as though she has not been counting the minutes at all.

Her hand lifts, knuckles tapping lightly against the stone beside her where faint markings have been scratched into the wall; subtle, deliberate lines that mean nothing unless you know how to read them. "These tunnels can get confusing," she continues mildly, fingers lingering there. "Especially if can't read thieves cant." Which, considering Zavien's spelling in his letter to her, the queen isn't surprised that he isn't bilingual.

When he produces the lemonade, Flora’s expression softens into something more genuine, a quiet chuckle slipping free as she accepts the bottle. "Aww, thanks." She lifts it slightly, a wordless signal, and Spice immediately dips down, pale breath ghosting over glass and liquid alike until condensation beads and the heat retreats. The dragon settles back with a pleased trill, clearly considering this an excellent use of her talents.

Flora rolls the chilled bottle once between her palms before looking back at Zavien as he thanks her, the gesture earnest enough that she does not dismiss it outright. "I was surprised to hear from you, actually," she admits, tone even, unguarded in a way that still does not invite too much closeness. Then her shoulders rise in a light shrug, casual as seafoam. "Soh wrote," she adds, as if it were an afterthought. "Said something about Stormbreak..shaking?" Then again maybe it wasn't surprising that Zavien's apology letter followed on the heels of his region potentially needing the aid of her soldiers again.

Flora lifts the lemonade in a small wordless toast before taking a sip, eyes never quite leaving the Commander bathed in Torchline sun.

Flora

you can't be everything you wanna be before your time

Zavien

Happiness is a choice that requires effort at times

Zavien never expected Flora to yell - except in extreme imaginings - but her stoic composure is slightly more terrifying, the confidence intimidating in how she seems to know her place in existence, like the position was made for her and no one else, like she was created to be Queen. Whereas he never felt called or built for leadership, she owns it without apology. If his own city's future wasn't destined to end, he might have asked to learn from her. But fate is a funny thing, and Zavien can't afford to let his theoretical aspirations for a terminal position derail their meeting. 

Glancing back at the caves again, he shakes his head, playfully firm in his new dislike for the tunnel system. "Well, it shouldn't happen again." It'd take the act of a god or having an experienced guide at his side to get him back in there. He's learned this lesson like many other mistakes he's made: the hard way. 

Flora accepts the lemonade - a good sign if her smile means anything - and he watches as Spice chills the bottle. He takes a small sip of his own drink, wetting his dry mouth to face her and whatever judgement she may pass. The comment isn't as cruel or chastising as it might have been, but it lands with a gentle pinpointing of his mistake, ripping the apology forth without intention. "I'm sorry. I meant to reach out sooner, to apologize for what I'd said last time - for being an idiot." He laughs, attempting to infuse the moment with some humor, to show her that he's not above acknowledging his own faults - but it sounds hollow and cuts short, distracted as he runs his fingers through his hair. 

His face falls, more serious and somber as he explains, "There was an accident in the Celestine and Lena - " Zavien looks down at the lemonade in his hands, steadying himself with a breath then raising his head again with a shrug of his shoulders. "Focusing on Stormbreak was the only way I could cope with her death." There's a muted factuality to it, not asking for sympathy or absolvement beyond understanding for his actions. 

"It's not an excuse, but I am sorry it took so long, especially when you were gracious enough to lend us the soldiers for the Tower." The intensity in the green of his eyes begs forgiveness, an undercurrent of grief and appreciation twisting within. 

The weight of his mood doesn't improve with her question. It's not something he'd planned to hide from her, although he hadn't expected to encounter the topic so soon. 

He pauses before his head dips, heavy with the knowledge and responsibility he carries, disconnected in the sorrow he can't give in to. It's a confirmation of mourning, of devestation on the horizon. If she's already heard of the tremors, he assumes Soh will have told her of the conversation with Safrin, leaving him with little to say except, "We're planning to release the evacuation plans in the next day or so." The severity was too extreme, the risk too great. 

Pain and dread threaten to rise, already grieving the loss of their home, but Flora isn't someone he'd expect or desire that kind of comfort from. Placing the emotions back in the box he's slowly been fortifying, Zavien swallows and lifts his eyes to meet Flora's. "With your blessing, I'd like to give people permission to come here - if that's where they choose to settle." The influx of people might be more than the usual immigration rate, and he'd hate to place that burden on any region without their permission.

slow down, you're doing fine

Flora’s mouth curves when he calls himself an idiot, a crooked, quick smile flashing into place before she can help it. "A man," she says lightly, one brow arching, "sticking his foot directly into his mouth. What are the odds." The sarcasm is there, dry and bright, but it carries good humour with it, the kind offered as a small bridge rather than a blade.

Then he says accident, and something in her expression shifts. Her brow knits, confusion slipping in where composure had been, and when the word death lands, it knocks the breath straight out of her. "What?" The sound leaves her before she can catch it, raw and unfiltered, jaw dropping open as the reality of it catches up to her. A heartbeat later she swears softly, shaking her head as if she might physically dislodge the information from the air between them. "Fuck. Zavien, I’m so so sorry."

The irritation she had been holding so carefully evaporates, gone as completely as mist burned away by sun. She waves a hand vaguely, dismissing time, dismissing apologies, dismissing the space between then and now. "No, it's fine." Flora exhales, shoulders rising and falling as she reins herself back in. Dead girlfriends obviously took precedent, as did shattering cities.

Silence settles for a moment, thick but not uncomfortable, the cave cool against her spine as she leans back into the stone, grounding herself there while the weight of what he has said settles properly. When he speaks of Stormbreak, of plans and evacuations and the careful way he carries that responsibility, her expression softens into something steadier, more resolute. "Whatever you need," Flora says simply, voice low and sure. "Torchline’s here." There is no hesitation in it. "I can send soldiers. Skyships too, if it helps with evacuation or transport. And of course people are welcome here, however long they need to stay." A small, rueful smile curves her mouth as she tilts her head, obviously not aware of the extent of the damage to the city. "I’ll make sure we’ve got plenty of extra sunscreen on hand," she adds dryly. "They’re going to need it." Torchline during Longheat was no joke, afterall.

Then something else clicks into place, and she straightens just a touch, gold jewellery glinting as she gestures vaguely seaward. "Oh—and our fountain water heals anywhere now. I’ll have a ship loaded up and sent to you."

Flora

you can't be everything you wanna be before your time

Zavien

Happiness is a choice that requires effort at times

He doesn't hesitate to take the offered bridge, to cross the path back onto Flora's good side with a breathlessly relieved chuckle. "With my track record? Pretty good." There's no arguing that he's tasted the dirt of his own words plenty of times, and there's no doubt he'll taste them again soon. 

His fingers fall from his hair, trying not to focus on the grief when he shares the news of Lena's death. Zavien doesn't intend to use the tragedy as a means to escape blame, even if Flora insists on wiping the slate clean with a wave of her hand. The condolences are something he accepts with a resigned dip of his head, unsure whether she had been close enough to the Caretaker to have any personal feelings on the loss but not really wanting to talk about it either way. 

Fixating on the inevitable demise of his region, Zavien lets the other mistakes and apologies and distracting topics fade to the background. The immediacy of her reaction and willingness to help is a reassurance, and a new factor he's grateful to include in their plans. He musters a hint of a smile to convey as much. "Thank you. Skyships would be extremely helpful, and we wouldn't turn down a few extra hands to move the people and their possessions out," he pauses, eyebrows knitting together to gently correct her misunderstanding, "but this wouldn't be a temporary stay..." And in case it's not clear enough this time, Zavien adds in a practiced, clinical tone, "Safrin predicts Stormbreak won't survive the season and the Breakers will need to find new places to settle." He lets the gravity of the situation fill the space between them, doing his best not to get crushed beneath it like before, to be crippled by the permanent loss of their home.

slow down, you're doing fine

Flora takes the way Zavien's voice gentles, the way he lets the subject settle instead of pressing it further, as a clear enough boundary. She does not prod at it. Some grief is not meant for public handling, and she has learned, painfully, when to leave a thing where it lies. The thought of Lena lingers anyway, a quiet weight she files away to ask Soh about later, when the timing will be kinder.

She nods once, decisive. "Whatever Stormbreak needs," Flora says evenly, leaning a little more fully into the cool stone at her back. "If Torchline can help, we will."

The correction catches her attention immediately, her brows lifting as he clarifies, and then the words won’t survive the season land with a force that steals the air from her lungs. Her mouth parts in silent shock, the implications unfolding faster than she would like. Her thoughts leap, unbidden, northward—to her brother first, sharp and instinctive—and she swallows hard, forcibly setting aside the immediate urge to reach for Mateo, to demand reassurance she cannot reasonably ask for in this moment.

She inhales sharply through her nose, steadying herself, and shakes her head slowly. "Gods," Flora murmurs, the word slipping out with unguarded sincerity. "I’m so sorry." Her gaze lifts back to him, clear and unflinching, softened now by genuine sympathy rather than diplomacy. "I know that can’t be easy to carry. Any of it."

Flora

you can't be everything you wanna be before your time

Zavien

Happiness is a choice that requires effort at times

Embracing the topic as much as someone can when it's centered on the end of their city, Zavien offers something akin to a smile, a polite twitch of his lips that's no less genuine for its muted emotion. Despite their previous altercation, his heart warms at the display of support, holding little doubt that the other regions will be just as quick to offer aide. It's a balm against his wounded optimism and faith that everything happens for a reason. 

He nods his head, running his fingers over the lemonade bottle to cool the heat. "We appreciate that. I'll send notice when we begin the evacuations and let you know if there's anything more that can be done." 

Flora's sympathy lands heavy, a gentle nudge at the quiet control he'd crafted. No, none of this is easy. Zavien is barely hanging on, clinging to duty and pure resiliency, knowing that if he falls apart right now, people die. Stormbreak will fall, and all he can do is preserve as many lives as he can. 

But as strong as he tries to be about it all, he's not a robot. It hurts, and Zavien has to lower his head to escape Flora's sentiments, rebuilding the hope and determination in his voice. "No, but we'll get through it. Breakers are a strong people."

slow down, you're doing fine

Flora nods, slow and measured, the understanding settling easily into place. This is not something she can take from him, no matter how much help she offers, and she recognises it for what it is; the last weight he will carry as Commander, a duty that belongs to him even when it hurts. Pressing harder would not be kindness, it would be theft.

She steps in just enough to bridge the space and reaches out, fingers warm against his arm as she gives it a soft, grounding squeeze. "Yeah," Flora says quietly, a note of certainty threading through the word. "I know they are." Then her mouth quirks, a lopsided smile breaking through the heaviness as a breath of levity slips in. "My brother, my best friend, and my boyfriend are all Breakers," she adds with a short laugh.

The smile lingers for a heartbeat before easing into something gentler. With a small sigh, she lets her hand fall back to her side and straightens, posture relaxed but resolved. "I won’t keep you," Flora says, glancing once toward the tunnels as if already tallying the long list waiting for him. "You’ve clearly got a thousand things to be doing." Her gaze returns to him, steady and sincere. "But I do really appreciate you coming down to talk to me face to face."

Flora

you can't be everything you wanna be before your time

Zavien

Happiness is a choice that requires effort at times

Zavien doesn't expect the contact. He doesn't tense or shrink away, but he also doesn't lean into it beyond meeting her gaze, guarded and reserved with the Queen even in his grief. Her words are sweet, the sentiment there in a supportive way that might have brought him peace before, but he can't forget her cold assessment of his region - the 'weakest' region. No matter how many Breakers she knows or how many resources she offers, the previous insult has burrowed too deep, the disrespect carving wounds in his chest that blunt the sympathy. 

He'd come for his people, to mend the relationship enough to ensure they would not be turned away, to apologize for the blunders he'd made and prove that he's not that kind of person. He'd shared the truth because he refuses to lie or give her only pieces of the picture, but he hadn't come for pity or compassion - hadn't expected it. He'd come in person to show his sincerity and nothing more. Because Zavien hadn't forgotten how harsh Flora had been, the ease with which she'd managed to make him feel so small and insignificant without caring for his feelings then. Why should she care now?

The smile he returns is gentle and controlled, a polite gratitude for the affirmations even if they don't soften him like they should. He simply nods his head, letting the emotions wash over him until she pulls away, mercifully giving him the excuse of work to escape the discomfort. "You're right. There are still a lot of preparations to be made." And a million that he probably hasn't thought of. 

His head dips at her appreciation, returning it with his own. "Thank you for meeting with me, and thank you for all you've done for Stormbreak. I'm sorry we won't be able to repay the kindness." Another careful smile crosses the distance as he adds, "But once this is over, let me know if there's anything I can do." No lingering debts or proof of 'weakness' that could be cast on Zavien or his region, not by her or anyone. 

Turning to Sol, he lets out a deep sigh, grateful to have his companion with him through it all, to be a guiding light that he'll never lose sight of. "I'll let you lead the way this time." And with that, they move to step away from the caves towards the city and the skyport beyond, their only thoughts of home and the work to be done.

[FIN]