From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
Her laughter and her acceptance at being spontaneously swung around only makes his own laughter ring sweeter. He has missed this feeling of pride in one of his students, in seeing them succeed with even the most basic of forms. It's like watching a child take their first steps, and it makes him long for the younger pupils he'd had, the ones with shy grins and knobby knees. Ones he now has to pray are strong enough to be left alone in the world he'd departed without his guidance and protection.
It's just sobering enough to help reign in his excitement, clearing his gaze of ghosts as Phoebe speaks. He smiles comfortingly at her. "It will become less scary the more we repeat it. Do you want to keep trying this one or learn something defensive?" He'd be a terrible trainer if he didn't cover multiple bases, but there's so much he wants to be able to teach her to make her safer as quickly as possible. It's a difficult line to walk.
can you protect me from what i want? the love i let in, it left me so lost
She wasn't so certain about it becoming less scary. The whole endeavor worked against her nature. But the point wasn't necessarily to make her less scared, but to make her more capable. "If you say so..." she said, humoring him despite her doubts. And besides, there were other things to focus on anyways, like what to do next. She had one offensive move mostly figured out. Something defensive seemed like something she ought to know too. "Defensive." she said with a nod.
Defensive it is. Harper brushes off his clothes as they both straighten back to normal posture, twisting his hips a little to ease the small ache from hard contact with the ground. "Okay, so because of your size most people would try to grapple you to subdue you, so we're going to go over some very basic but also very effective responses." Here he moves around behind her back, wrapping his arms around her from behind and tightening to keep her arms pinned.
"From here you have three good options. Stomping on your attacker's foot, crushing their nose with the back of your head, or if you have enough room to maneuver your arms you grab for their genitals and twist as hard as you can." Chuckling against her back he gives her a little shake in his arms. "But that's not an option today, okay?" He definitely doesn't want his junk getting twisted today.
can you protect me from what i want? the love i let in, it left me so lost
Her brows furrowed in concern as he twisted, worry bubbling up. "Are you okay?" she asked, head tilting. She hadn't thought she was capable of hurting him...but maybe she was wrong.
Phoebe fell silent as he moved behind her, wrapping his arms around her own. Were they in a different situation this might have been romantic, but such was not the case. Until...he mentioned the bit about twisting genitals being off limits. A little smirk tugged on her lips, mischief glinting in her eyes. "Oh, no?" she said, purposefully swaying her hips back and forth against his. "But I thought you were going to show me a good time?" she said, holding back her snicker.
Harper smiles kindly at her concern, but brushes away nonetheless. "Not even a bruise. I'm fine." He has taken far, far worse after all, and the best she can do when landing on him is taking the air from his lungs.
Though of course she seems determined to do so in a new variety of ways each time, and Harper's face flushes as he immediately jerks his hips back away from hers with a yelp of surprise. "Phoebe!" he admonishes in a strangled tone that's half-laugh and half-squeak. He picks her up in his arms until her feet dangle, and gives her a good shake back and forth like he can somehow rattle all the sass out of her like a piggybank. "Don't flip my words on me missy, we've gotta get you trained." He's not going to genuinely bark at her for her playful actions, not if it keeps her lighthearted and away from dark thoughts. "Plus even if I said that, public indecency isn't my style," he chuckles.
can you protect me from what i want? the love i let in, it left me so lost
Phoebe cackled - truly cackled - as he squeaked in surprise at her antics. It was fun and suddenly she truly understood the delight Frey got in teasing those who prayed to them. She only laughed more as she was lifted and shook about. But it did nothing to temper her antics. Instead it was like blowing on a flame - her boldness flaring as bubbling questions and curiousity boiled over.
The blonde tilted her head back so the back of her head rested on his shoulder, leaving her lips closer to his ear. "Sorry, I forgot, your style is showing up to a girl's wedding and saying everything she ever wanted to hear to see if you can get her to leave with you instead, right?" she said quietly, tone playful but somehow still full of earnestness. "Making sure she feels enough that even if she doesn't she will regret it forever and you'll know you'll at least always plague her with that in retribution?"
Her mirth is unmistakable, and coated in devious tones that make him grin despite the hue rising in his cheeks. It's a playful game, the one they play. Harper doesn't mind the teasing and innuendos, accustomed to such meaningless flirtations even though he spent years being the instigator instead of the proverbial victim. But as her head tilts back against his shoulder, as she speaks, his own smile dies a little bit. It's still lighthearted, but there's too much earnest sincerity to each word, and he gently parts from her back to spin her around and face her. This isn't something to be spoken over a shoulder.
Blue eyes are heartfelt and guileless as they fall upon Phoebe's. "It was never to convince you to leave with me, or to leave at all," he corrects gently, squeezing her arms just a tad before his hands drop away, feeling like this conversation takes precedence for the moment over her training. "And I never wanted you to regret it. I just wanted to be there for you, to be supportive when so few people did so for you. You needed a friend, and I wanted to be that person." Sunjata had his own entourage of people at the wedding to comment on his choices, but Phoebe's friends had been suspiciously quiet. Or wholly absent. "I'd never want to plague you with that either. I'll always be here to support you, no strings attached." Here he smiles softly, hoping now she will understand. Phoebe has so few people willing to be that impartial, steadying presence. Harper is not only used to being that person, he's happy to lend his strength and advice to her in her times of need.
can you protect me from what i want? the love i let in, it left me so lost
Once upon a time, Phoebe was good at hiding her earnestness. Once upon a time, she prided herself on keeping the peace, meek and quiet, putting herself aside for the sake of those around her. But slowly, one at a time, those people disappeared. Her patience deteriorated, her heart had broken too many times, and it never had gotten put back together quite the same way.
And so as Harper set her down and turned her around, her own honeyed eyes held his gaze unwavering, a quiet steel holding her there. She wasn't concerned if it was uncomfortable. She didn't mind that it didn't keep things smooth and status quo. No one grew that way. No one evolved. And did she want her future children if she was so blessed, to suffer her same hurts because she had never learned to be strong so she could teach them? No.
She listened quietly as he spoke, not terribly surprised. "You didn't wonder, not even for a moment, what it might be like if there was a string?" she asked softly. "Is a friend all you ever wanted to be? Or did you wonder, too?"
The steel in her gaze is unexpected, but not unwelcome. Harper meets it with the same steady calm that he always exudes, knowing this is a conversation that has likely been budding in her mind for quite some time if she is capable of putting it into words so easily.
The question she poses isn't an easy one, and certainly not one that Harper is going to immediately jump into answering. He considers it for a time, staring into her eyes as he questions himself. "I wouldn't say I haven't thought of it at all," he agrees, because who doesn't imagine such things even with people they don't have interest in courting? "But we are both damaged people, and I wouldn't even entertain the idea until you were in a better place. If at all. I'm not without my own baggage after all, and your friendship has been and always will be enough." In the sense that even if he wanted to be with her, and she denied him, he would be content to have her as his friend until their parting days.
can you protect me from what i want? the love i let in, it left me so lost
She waited patiently as he stood silent, thinking, giving him the time he needed. It was so much better to wait and hear the real truth, than to rush along and realize it had all been a lie.
"I wouldn't say I haven't thought of it at all."
No big promises. No gushing confession. For once, the lackluster, blunt honesty of the statement - passing thoughts, distracted musings, nothing terribly serious - comforted her deeply. Not a no, not a yes. Something in between and grey and all the more real for it. Her gaze went to the ground between them, not from sadness or bashfulness, but in thought. After a moment of her own contemplation, she reached out, fingers gently, loosely wrapping around his. Almost another question in a sense - would he pull away, or complete the gesture? "I was in a bad place when you let me decide what was best for me at that wedding. What's so different now?" she said softly, a light laugh parting her lips as she glanced up at him, amused. "You are helping me carry my baggage...I can help you carry yours." And wasn't that really how it was supposed to be? Two imperfect, damage people, balancing and healing each other's hurts? Standing strong when the other fell? "Your friendship is enough for me too but...but I'd like to see...to try...just one string at a time?" she said, laying it out in the open, the crux of her musings since that day.
What if that had been her chance, and she had cut the strings for good?
Her hand reaches for his, and he links his fingers loosely with hers, allowing her the chance to pull away at her discretion. "Because I was supporting you as an individual, but this is more than just your heart and happiness on the line. You had time to think over the wedding, but this...this is all new territory." He shrugs helplessly, not sure how else to explain the difference that he sees between the two events. Gently squeezing her fingers, he takes a slow, deep inhale. This reminds him of Oliver's confession, and his reticence hasn't necessarily changed at all between that one and this proposition of hers. But just as Oliver did, Phoebe deserves his honesty.
"It's not a no. But there's so much about me that you don't know, and a lot of it could change the way you look at me. I wouldn't want to offer you anything only to hurt you later on by not being the man you think I am." He'd only told Kiada of such dark and hidden secrets, and that's yet another memory brought to light that makes him ache for how he's failing this bright young woman who deserves better than him. "I lost my previous partner in a terrible way, and I'm not..." he struggles to put it to words, holding tight to her hands to ground him and keep his anxiety at bay. "I haven't fully healed from it. And I know things were different in your world, and I'd never diminish you for it, but our age difference and what we want in life is something for me to consider too." He brings her hands up to press a kiss to her knuckles, eyes tired and begging for understanding from her. "I don't know what I can promise, or if I can at all right now." Which only kills him all the more, that he can't even give her a solid answer.
can you protect me from what i want? the love i let in, it left me so lost
She recognizes this isn't just about her, that he has himself to consider as well. But this notion that it is sudden, or unexpected, spur of the moment brought on by her own unhappiness - that she needs to correct. "I've had time to think about you since then, too." she said softly, head tilting slightly. His words and face had been clear in her mind every day since then. No matter how dark her thoughts had grown, he had always been the light to bring her back. Literally and figuratively.
Her own fingers tighten around his, grounding and supporting as he struggled with his words. It was a small thing, but it was something - someone - to cling to. Perhaps just a little bit of light to see him through. And on instinct, her other hand reached out to hold his other one, holding him steady. "Well...I don't think you're anything other than you, and that's Harper. And whatever you're so worried about in your past...I can't and wouldn't hold that against you." she said quietly, a small smile curving her lips. An assurance, just a little one. The same, unconditional term he had extended her.
Soft brown eyes watched as he lifted her hand to his lips, and she shook her head, still amused in an odd way. "Why do we have to think of all the ways it could go wrong, instead of all the ways it could go right?" she asked, curious rather than pressing or coaxing. "And...what if I don't want promises? Just you, as you are, trying for a brighter day, every day, alongside me?" she said.
"But I haven't," he points out gently, because honesty is the only policy here and now. "I've been so preoccupied with making sure you're okay, and exploring this place that I still barely know. I haven't intentionally thought of you in any non-platonic way. I'm not certain how I feel about it." Harper had spoken the truth before, he has certainly thought of it once or twice. But never consistently, never with any kind of dedication, and now he's staring into the deep end and - like always - scrambling back away from the edge in terror, unprepared.
Her hands grasp onto his, and he holds them firmly, staring at the differences in their skin tone and the frankly ridiculous amount of scars that cover his own. It just makes him feel sicker to be so blatantly reminded of how unfit he is for her. Her words are so optimistic, so hopeful, and he sighs softly as he squeezes her fingers. "It's not that simple, Phoebe. I am much older than you first of all, which is something I personally struggle to accept even if our worlds were different in expectations. And while I can't say what you do and don't deserve, and whether or not you deserve to be saddled with me, you still have so much ahead of you. I don't want to stand in the way of that, and I know that I will." It's more than anxiety or suspicion. He knows it just as he knows the wax and wane of the moon's cycles. She is a young, brilliant soul, and he is still a jaded, flighty nomad. Age gap aside, her youth alone warrants a better long-term relationship, a steadier one.
"And...I don't think I'm ready. And that isn't fair to you, to drag you along while I try to figure out my own problems, without knowing if by the end we'll even want each other anymore. I don't want to leave you in limbo, and that's what this would be." It hurts to say it, like chewing glass, but it's so similar to what he'd said to Oliver that it makes it that little bit easier. Harper is very loose and happy with his physical affections, perhaps too much if the result is hurting those who love him too quickly, but he knows his heart is well-guarded and slow to thaw. And he is fierce in his belief that Phoebe can find someone better, because he's not sure how long she would waste away at his side, discontent and hopeful. And potentially all for nothing. He cares too much about her - about all of them, all those who have expressed even the smallest interest in him romantically - to subject her to that.
can you protect me from what i want? the love i let in, it left me so lost
She remained silent, eyes cast down at their hands. While he saw scars in contrast with delicate fingers, she saw strength that held her up and gentleness that healed her hurts. His words were hard to hear, though not terribly surprising. What did she expect? Her chance had been lost long ago, and to come simpering back now was pointless. Her lips pressed together in a thin line, knowing once not terribly long ago tears might've risen to her eyes. But there were none left to shed - her heart growing more reticent with each passing day. And as quickly as the flames had been fanned, he blew against them too hard and they flickered away. Hope was such a delicate thing.
"You talk as though you're some old man on your deathbed." she said quietly. Phoebe did not pull her hands away, but her fingers relaxed in his grip - his own hold the only thing keeping them in place. The light he saw was shrinking back once more behind her walls, the brilliance of her smile fading back to an expressionless void. "I'm...sorry. I won't bring it up ever again." she said barely above a whisper. She had overstepped her bounds and he had made a very definitive line in the sand.
Not her. Not now. Not ever. Like always. Stupid Phoebe.
She swallowed a lump in her throat, eyes still cast down. "So...defense then."
