REMI
the bastion
& my heart ran away with me
Remi goes very still.
Flora’s voice is bright and teasing, the kind of sound that usually earns a raised brow and a fond huff—but he hardly hears her. The momentTheea is named, everything else fades. Her face, her voice, the shape of her smile—there’s something painfully familiar about all of it. Vai’s granddaughter. Ashetta’s daughter.
His heart stutters.
For a moment, it’s not LongHeat anymore. It’s a decade past, and he’s back in a clearing wrapped in ash and starlight, with Vervain’s hands warm at his jaw and Ashe’s wild laugh in his ear, but both had been lost to him in their own ways, even if their memories had always stayed tucked tightly around his heart.
A laugh threatens, but it catches in his throat. "Gods," he murmurs instead, and his voice is thick with too many things at once—grief, awe, gratitude, love. "You look—"
FOOD FIGHT! comes the shout across the sand.
Remi doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even blink. In a breath, wings erupt from his back—broad and sandy and feathered with soft golden edges. One sweeps instinctively out and around Flora and Theea, curving like a shield to catch a flying handful of potato salad with a wet splat.
With his arm still loosely braced in front of them, Remi exhales, sea-glass eyes never leaving Theea’s face. "You look like both of them," he says at last, his voice low and unsteady but warm, before reaching out for Ronin as if half expecting the Knight to topple over at any moment.
Flora’s voice is bright and teasing, the kind of sound that usually earns a raised brow and a fond huff—but he hardly hears her. The moment
His heart stutters.
For a moment, it’s not LongHeat anymore. It’s a decade past, and he’s back in a clearing wrapped in ash and starlight, with Vervain’s hands warm at his jaw and Ashe’s wild laugh in his ear, but both had been lost to him in their own ways, even if their memories had always stayed tucked tightly around his heart.
A laugh threatens, but it catches in his throat. "Gods," he murmurs instead, and his voice is thick with too many things at once—grief, awe, gratitude, love. "You look—"
FOOD FIGHT! comes the shout across the sand.
Remi doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even blink. In a breath, wings erupt from his back—broad and sandy and feathered with soft golden edges. One sweeps instinctively out and around Flora and Theea, curving like a shield to catch a flying handful of potato salad with a wet splat.
With his arm still loosely braced in front of them, Remi exhales, sea-glass eyes never leaving Theea’s face. "You look like both of them," he says at last, his voice low and unsteady but warm, before reaching out for Ronin as if half expecting the Knight to topple over at any moment.
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
