broke the sweetest promise

A machine where your heart once was
Slowly takes the place of you

Flora was difficult to read, her mood seeming to shift by the minute. She'd arrived bright and sunny, as though she'd been completely unbothered - but then she'd softened, offering him something that felt more real in their moment of shared grief. Now, though, he couldn't get a read on what she was feeling. "I don't think that's necessarily true," he said, but he wasn't sure how to explain why. Perhaps he simply didn't want to come across as judgemental, because he wasn't - if she made out with her friends and that worked for her, then good for her. It just wasn't him.

There was a moment of silence as she considered him. "I'm not very good at being an ex-soldier, I'm afraid," he murmured, almost ruefully. How many times had he considered that life would be easier if he simply gave up the duty that plagued him? But he couldn't bring himself to let go of it.

Her question, though, took him by surprise, and he sat back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. "My wife and kids died in the Ascended attack on Stormbreak," he said softly, that same grief making a reappearance. "After that, I couldn't..." He trailed off, remembering a time when he'd almost gotten himself kicked out because of his drinking, when he couldn't wander the streets without seeing his family's ghosts. "Back then, the Dragoons were only in Stormbreak, so when I decided to leave Stormbreak... I also retired from the Dragoons."

Only hold the memories now
Of a love I thought I knew

Liam

your touch brought forth an incandescent glow, tarnished but so grand

Flora just shrugs, swirling the last of the liquid in her glass. She doesn’t know Liam well enough to unpack all the quiet hesitations tangled in his voice—and gods knew she had her own mess of reasons for why kisses felt safer than commitment, why fleeting affection had always been easier to chase than trust. Her daddy and abandonment issues weren't the reasons they were sitting here today, and gods knew Liam didn't need anything else on his shoulders.

As Liam explains, the queen's expression shifts, softening with something gentler than pity. Sympathy, maybe, or the echo of understanding from someone who’s also had loss root itself deep and clawing. "It doesn’t seem like it ever really left you," she murmurs, voice quieter now, stripped of bravado. "The title. The burden. Seems like maybe it even still fits, even if you don’t wear the uniform anymore."

Her gaze drops to the table, fingers skating idly along the condensation ring left by her glass. "If you wanted it...I bet the Dragoons would take you. Especially now, with everything happening. It wouldn’t be like starting over. Just picking up where you left off." A pause. "Maybe even a little further ahead, actually."

A machine where your heart once was
Slowly takes the place of you

"Yeah," Liam agreed quietly, his gaze dropping to rest on his drink. He reached out a hand to pick it up, and took a sip if only for something to do. It was difficult to leave that part of himself behind - impossible, even, although gods knew he'd tried. A dragoon was the only thing he'd ever dreamed of being, and even after retiring from that life, it had followed him like a ghost. Just like the bits and pieces of his family that had accompanied him to the Greatwood, his role as a soldier had been just as difficult to shake.

And maybe the Dragoons would take him, but would he even be a worthy addition, these days? "I thought about rejoining," he admitted. Back when Phoebe had ruled the Greatwood, he'd asked her what she thought about it. She hadn't wanted his loyalties divided, and that had been that. But now... now, there was no leadership to be loyal to, no civilized region to support. Now, there was only himself, and Maea, and he suspected that the Ancient wouldn't even hesitate to support him in rejoining the Dragoons, if that was what he wanted to do.

"It's Koa that's leading them now, isn't it?" he asked thoughtfully, already considering what he might be able to offer to the cause. It wasn't much, but it was something - and surely every little bit counted.

Only hold the memories now
Of a love I thought I knew

Liam

your touch brought forth an incandescent glow, tarnished but so grand

Flora’s brows lift slightly, surprise flickering through seafoam eyes before softening into something more careful. At the mention of rejoining, she doesn’t interrupt—but the weight of it lingers, coiled in her silence like the edge of a tide waiting to break.

When Liam asks about Koa, she draws in a breath that’s more thoughtful than sharp, and finally nods, fingers brushing idly along the edge of her saucer. "Yeah," she murmurs. "He is." Her gaze flicks out the café window, where the sea glitters just beyond the rooftops, as if the answer might somehow be simpler out there. "My dad’s still technically a Dragoon—Ronin, I mean—but since folks like Anju disappeared, Koa’s been the one holding things together. Training recruits, managing assignments, making the hard calls. All of it."

There’s no bitterness in her tone, only the quiet acknowledgment of someone who’s watched too many people step away and one person try to fill all their shoes.

"He’s good at it," she adds, with a pause just long enough to suggest that being good at something doesn’t make it easy. 'But...yeah. He’s tired. And if you’re thinking about joining, I’m sure he’d be glad for the help. You’d be walking into something real." Her gaze shifts back to Liam, quieter now. "Something that matters, especially now."

A machine where your heart once was
Slowly takes the place of you

Liam didn't know Koa well, but he'd met the young man a few times now and admired his drive and devotion. But the soldier also knew that outranking everyone around you could be isolating. It was one of the reasons he hadn't aspired to leadership during his time among the Dragoons - that, and the fact that he hadn't been one long enough to rise in rank. He didn't envy Koa his task now, that was for sure - though he did have to wonder what had happened to Anju, who had once been a friend.

"It's a lot of responsibility for one person," Liam agreed softly, scrubbing a hand over his face. Then he sighed. "I'll try and join up. If there's something I can do... I want to help." He wasn't sure what all he'd have to offer (and we all know that he didn't get the chance), but he would do what he could. And, after all, wasn't that all anyone could do?

Only hold the memories now
Of a love I thought I knew

Liam

your touch brought forth an incandescent glow, tarnished but so grand

Flora hums in agreement, the sound low and thoughtful as she turns her cup slowly between her fingers. "It is," she says, a note of something heavy and sympathetic in the words. "More than anyone should have to carry alone."

She watches Liam for a beat longer, then offers a smile—soft, a little crooked, but real. "If you’re serious, I can introduce you to Ronin. He’s the kind of dad who acts all casual and breezy, but he keeps a sharp eye on the people willing to step up. Especially now." Her smile warms, even as her fingers tap lightly once more at her saucer. "He also knows what it's like to lose someone close and then just...go off for a bit, so.."

The clatter of porcelain draws both their attention as the waiter sets down two plates, steam curling up like a promise. Flora shifts in her seat, the earlier tension bleeding out of her shoulders as the scent of toasted bagels and sun-drenched fruit fills the space between them.

And just like that, the world narrows to something easier. They don’t talk about war or a one-off kiss for a while—just trade quiet stories over coffee and breakfast, letting the hum of the café and the glittering sea beyond the rooftops remind them, if only for a little while, that peace can still be borrowed in small, golden moments.

~FIN