meditations on a theme

REMI

The chill wouldn't leave his bones, no matter the warmth of the Temple. Conjuring blankets adorned with dragons, stars, and birds for himself and to wrap around Ronin and Aoife, the trio moved away from the door and deeper into the Temple proper. Finding himself holding his breath, the alchemist every now and then would let out a strangled puff of air before repeating the habit over and over again.

There was no blood this year, but again Ronin arrived in the dead of night with Aoife bundled in his arms having escaped the guildhall. They were together and no casualties had  resulted from the blaze, but still it had burned.

The guildhall was gone.

The place of their first kiss, gone. Of their awkward kitchen fumble. Where Remi had proposed and he'd cried rivers over his lost friend. Where he'd welcomed him back with frosty disbelief. Where everything had started anew.

It didn't matter perhaps, but to Remi, it did. For Remi who'd already lost so much of his memory, to lose somewhere so foundational to everything he had now, felt quite the blow indeed.

"Is she alright?" He asked softly of Aoife as they settled into one of the alcoves within the main sanctuary.

Table by sky!

bleed it dry, leave us here with nothing

“Shaken and exhausted, but she’ll live, I think.” Ronin gazed down as their daughter as he followed wherever Remi would lead them. Aoife was bundled carefully in the blankets the alchemist had provided, snug against Ronin’s chest, utterly silent. He hushed her nonetheless, telling her stories as they made their way to the alcove; stories about the bright luxere herd that had led them to the Temple; stories about Vanya; stories about the dragons that adorned her blanket.

Perhaps Ronin was numb. Perhaps it just hadn’t fully registered yet, that the guildhall was gone. Or deep down, perhaps he just wasn’t able to admit it yet, that he was glad it was burned to the ground. Glad not to have the burden of its memories upon his shoulders. Because whilst his first kiss with Remi, their drunken fumble, his return from the stars - while all of those were well and good, they were eclipsed by the long and lonely night spent bringing his daughter into the world, and seeing her mother fade out of it.

The blood, the tears, the screams, feeling lost and young and helpless...

The guildhall was gone, and good riddance.

“Are you alright, though?”

REMI

"I.." Remi began to answer before he had any sort of time to actually formulate how he felt. He felt numb and cold, felt disconnected from everyone and everything. For once the trajectory of what Ronin wanted and what he did seemed to be at odds, and that made him feel hollow as well. "..do not think so, no."

But none of them were alright. That was the theme of LongNight after all. What was important was that they were alive.

"I am so sorry Ronin..." Wrapping a blanket tightly around himself, the alchemist offered his husband a droopy smile, but biting the inside of his lip and turning to survey the darkened sanctuary. "It is my fault they got in. I...thought of how to protect the people inside, but not the building." Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Remi gazed a depressed sea-foam stare Ronin's way. It was the first thing Ronin had built here, where he'd made his home with Vanya. And now it was just..gone.

Table by sky!

bleed it dry, leave us here with nothing

It had been a silly question really - why would Remi be alright, after all that had happened? Ronin shifted to sit in the alcove, their daughter cradled in one arm so he might use the other to draw his husband against his side. “You don’t know that, Remi. That door was open and shut so many times it could have been anyone,” he said, though he already knew deep down that it was probably Roana’s body that the monsters had hitched a ride in on. Still - what was done was done.

”So what?” he said softly about the building, his tone warm and gentle. “I’d rather this than the building survive and there be one single casualty. We can make another home, Remi. I won’t find another you.”

REMI

Remi leaned, if only reluctantly, into Ronin's arms. Something about all of this seemed to defy coddling and cuddling, and yet as always, Ronin truly was all he wanted. The only place he ever wanted to be. "No..I mean...I was the one who said we would always open the door. Regardless of which opening let them in...I was the one who said yes." I was always the one who said yes.

Nodding almost dutifully, Remi huffed out a sullen breath. Yes of course better their continued safety than a building, better a husband than a home. But it wasn't so simply black and white. It needn't have happened like this if Remi hadn't tried to play the hero. Had he not been foolish enough to get on the wrong side of a god. Had he not been so naive as to think he could fix things.

Drawing his knees up and pulling the blanket around his side like a wing, he glanced softly at Ronin, offering his husband a half smile, before turning to scratch his fingers angrily through his curls. "I..do not want to be this man, Ronin. I do not want these powers. I do not want to be seen as someone to call on in times of need because I am not. I am not you...I...do not think I can handle the weight of all this." With eyes far too gentle for the body of power and muscle they came packaged in, Remi turned to Ronin with a shaky smile.

Table by sky!

bleed it dry, leave us here with nothing

It would be insincere for Ronin to try and wave away the guilt his husband was feeling, so he didn’t try. Instead, he drew the alchemist close against his side, his lips ghosting across the other man’s temple, the warmth building between them hopefully melting away the chill from outside. “I hardly stopped you, did I? No one in the guild did either. Everyone still came, knowing what the risks were.” He gazed down at Remi, blue eyes sad. To hear him speak so... it wasn’t that the hunter could understand, per say, but... he’d definitely had similar thoughts himself.

“Luckily, you don’t have to,” he said, nudging against the alchemist’s shoulder with his own. “I’m sorry, that even since before we were married, that you had to deal with so much. The blight, LongNight, Ludo’s task, my being king... it wasn’t fair. It still isn’t. But I’m all yours now, okay? I’ll hold that weight with you, until you decide what kind of man you want to be.”

REMI

It wouldn't do either of them any good for Remi to argue, and so he simply let his thoughts spiral soundlessly in his mind. That no one said anything just made Remi think it was only because they knew it would fall on deaf ears. That they showed up regardless just showed what inappropriately placed faith they had in him.

Stiff against his husband, Remi frowned slightly as he looked into his lap, nodding his head a fraction. "Everyone has to deal with things." Reaching for Ronin's free hand to lace his fingers through, the alchemist's jaw feathered slightly as he clenched his teeth together. "But what am I supposed to say, Ronin? Oh, you need help? Sorry, I know I have the strength or magic or whatever that is needed, but really I would rather not because it is all a bit much." Biting unhappily at his lip he sighed miserably. "I have been called selfish so often lately. And I know that is not what I want to be. " And yet withdrawing would be precisely that.

Table by sky!

bleed it dry, leave us here with nothing

The unspoken thoughts lay stagnant in the air between them, Ronin letting his fingers twine with Remi’s so he could give his hand a reassuring squeeze. Not that he seemed able to reassure him, or to help lift some of the weight from his shoulders. Still, he at least had an answer for his hypothetical question. “Yes,” he said. “That’s exactly what you say. If you weren’t there, they’d find a way to do it - whatever it is they needed you for. You aren’t some tool that exists to serve them. You’re a person, with problems and fears and plans.”

Maybe it was because Ronin had so recently plucked up the courage to give up a responsibility that had been handed to him that he was so readily able to say such things. As for Remi being selfish, he could only adjust Aoife against his chest, smiling fondly. “The next person who calls you selfish, point them out to me. I’d like to have a few words with them.” Words, knuckles, same difference.

REMI

Remi truly wasn’t trying to be the stubborn sulk that he was, but damnit if all the darkness didn’t seem to encourage it. Chuckling lightly, realizing how absurdly pompous he’d been sounding given Ronin’s reply (of course they’d figure things out without him. He wasn’t crucial to any of this, after all), Remi nodded his head. Glancing down at their fingers softly pulsing with the beat of their hearts, the alchemist softly stroked his thumb up the side of Ronin’s, seeming to have come to some internal decision.

Raising a mischevious brow and shooting his husband an equally boyish look Remi grinned brightly in the dark. “Oh, you have enough reasons to be upset with him just now.” And then, instantly tarnished he added, “As do I.” It was a whirlwind really, having fought so hard for the right or privilege of being friends with Loren, only to have the summoner finally find the right combination of buttons to push to firmly make Remi want to keep away from him.

“One more day. Until then... I suppose we will need all new clothes.” Remi mused with a faint smile.

Table by sky!

bleed it dry, leave us here with nothing

Letting his thumb dance across the back of his husband’s hand, Ronin raised an eyebrow at Remi’s comment, only for his gaze to darken considerably as he realised who the alchemist had been referring to. The less said about that particular Launceleyn the better, and while Ronin did want to know more, he stopped himself from asking - it simply wasn’t worth it in the long run.

“I suppose we will need new clothes, yes. But we’ll cope. I’m sure the Temple has a lot of spare supplies.” He realised, of course, that Remi could just make them clothes out of nowhere, but that somewhat defeated the purpose of their conversation about not relying on him for everything.

REMI

"You, in raggedy hand me downs?" The alchemist wondered with a skeptical shake of his head. Though in Northaven Ronin certainly hadn't acted like a baron, his clothing had still been of a far nicer cut than Remi's ever had. Perhaps that had more to do with the storm guard, but even so; Remi had never seen his husband in anything less than decent.

"Then again, I am sure Phoebe would be more than happy to play dress up with you." He said, nudging Ronin with a muffled chuckle so as not to wake Aoife. Then again, for all the trials their daughter had been through, she was dead to the world asleep just now.

Glancing up at the ceiling, Remi pulled in a breath. Around them, the alcove shifted to appear as though it was a grassy knoll, and overhead and all around the curtains, small stars flickered brightly. The illusion couldn't extend any farther than that, but it was a much nicer way to close off the evening than staring at the oppressive gothic columns above.

"I love you." He said, pressing a kiss against his husband's temple, before letting his body fully relax.

Table by sky!

bleed it dry, leave us here with nothing

Ronin couldn’t resist the grin that spread across his face at the idea of standing in his raggedy hand me downs; it was true that he had definitely always presented himself well, even when he had first come to the Hollowed Grounds. Still, he would do whatever he had to for Remi not to feel as though he was responsible for everything. Though in this case, perhaps it was a lost cause, given his husband’s tone and comments.

”I will be an eager mannequin for either or both of you, whatever you decide.” Deep down he already got the feeling Remi would simply make clothes for all of them - but it was a nice idea. And he could still play dress up with the alchemist if nothing else. “And I you. Always.” Relaxing into the gentle weight of their daughter against his chest and Remi beside him, Ronin smiled up at the suddenly twinkling stars despite himself. Losing the guild was a blow - but it was far from the end of things. He’d experienced that too - and this was nothing like it.

~FIN