A Challenge of Fate {Fire Emblem: Awakening}

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by BlossomStars, Jun 24, 2016.

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  1. SENA

    When Sena had first heard that Chrom had accepted another person into the army Sena hadn't much cared. She liked to think that she'd never much cared for people but that was a lie. It was a learned feeling, an expression that came from time, experience and pain. It came from the gaping wounds left when people you were attached to were ripped away from you with violent intent and little warning. It came from everyday life in the future mankind had suffered after Grima's return.

    With this lack of caring Sena had, at first, decided against introducing herself. Though she didn't mind having others around (the more they had the better their chances were, she reasoned) she hadn't returned to the past simply to make friends - or to make friends at all. She wanted to stop the terrible future mankind was headed for and that was it. If she needed to know the person they'd freshly recruited she could become acquainted with them as partners on the battlefield.

    Sena's secluded attitude changed, however, when she found out just who their new recruit was. Not a stranger of the past she had no business with, nor a new friend to be ripped from her arms. It was, much to her shock, a familiar face. While Sena wasn't sure if this shock stemmed more from the fact that she'd been fortunate enough to meet up with another of the future children or from the thought that Inigo was still alive. After all, crossing through time was not a gentle journey, and the world it surrounded them in was an unfamiliar one. Though danger wasn't in shadows all around them at all times what did prove threatening was sometimes a shroud of mystery. Different times meant different circumstances, and when Sena thought about the toll of arriving this far into the past she regretted to think that some of the other children of the future may or may not still have been roaming about.

    While it was quite fortunate that they had met up with an Inigo that was alive and breathing, it soon became apparent that his situation was nothing short of tragic. Unlike herself and Owain, who had apparently met up with the group even before Sena herself had, Inigo's family in this version of the past was in shambles. Rather than being able to see both parents again alive and well, as happy as could be when the fact that they were in the midst of a war was considered, he had no such luck. Even here in the past his father was dead, killed by enemy soldiers and falsely labeled as a coward, never to clear his name. It was terribly, truly, and Sena felt for him. But she hadn't said a word. The situation was complicated to say the least, and with no father to speak of Inigo hadn't revealed his identity to anyone, least of all Olivia. So Sena played along, pretending not to know him so closely, lest she make things more complicated for the blue haired mercenary than they already were. Aside from that, she wished to give him space. Space to grieve, space to think. Virion's untimely death here in the past was surely a lot to take in.

    Taking a breath and shifting from one anxious foot to the other Sena stared at the forest she'd just seen Inigo disappear into. He couldn't have gotten to far and she intended to follow him. In the cover of evening with most of the army recovering from a recent battle Sena doubted anyone would notice the two sneaking away from camp. Even if they did Sena thought it unlikely that they'd connect the disappearance of their newest, most philanthropic recruit and one of their most stoic. Sena wandered off quite often in the evenings anyways. This time though she wasn't simply wandering idly. She had purpose for leaving, and it was very much wrapped up with Inigo. Finally, after a few days of hesitation and contemplation, Sena had decided to confront him. They'd not seen each other for years (at least to Sena it had been a year or so, though she had no idea how long Inigo had been here - time travel truly was tricky business) and yet she'd spent the last little while of their reunion completely ignoring him. She thought it best to break the silence, as uncomfortable as she was with the art of breaking the ice.

    A few seconds later and Sena had wandered off into the thicket of trees Inigo had wandered off into, hands idly running along the thick coating of bark along the proud plants. It was a simple pleasure, but with little more life than bugs and the most hardened of warriors inhabiting the future it was one Sena had come to rather appreciate.

    "Hey." Forcing herself to call out without hesitating once she'd managed to catch up to the mercenary whose tracks she had been following Sena found her voice coming out a little more roughly than she'd meant it to. While she mad no apology for this she was quick to adjust her tone, words softening with her eyes as she drew Inigo's attention.

    "Long time no see, huh stranger?"


    Anxious hands wringing together as uncomfortable toes tapped at the ground Olivia found her teeth idly chewing at her bottom lip as she stared at the sprouting grass beneath her feet. Even such weeds managed to grow mighty in these desperate times and yet, in her own mind, Olivia hadn't improved a bit. Though she'd danced all her life she was hardly very good (little more than average would be generous in her own opinion) and though she'd been working with the Ylissean army since the war in Plegia she still felt as if she hadn't grown at all. Some days she felt entirely useless to the army and couldn't help but wonder why they kept her around at all. After all, with warriors as strong as Frederick, Sully, Stahl, Chrom himself and a full roster of others Olivia could hardly see why they even kept her around at all. After all, she couldn't even come close to comparing with those others...

    With a suddenly determined frown and a shake of her head Olivia forced herself to push those thoughts into the back of her mind. Though he couldn't see it for the life of her, what Olivia lacked in physical strength she often managed to make up for in mental fortitude. For when she felt a useless bother (a feeling that was rather strong when she'd nearly risked their newest recruits life in the battle that had taken place earlier that day) the dancer worked harder to be worthy of the trust put in her. Giving up was a easy option, one always open to her, but it was never one that tempted the dedicated young woman. She wanted to help, and as down on herself as she could get she was determined to do everything she could to do so.

    With a deep breath Olivia let her muscles relax, clearing her mind of all of her worries, her insecurities, her raging thoughts. She focused her energy into what she needed to think about; her balance, her poise, the moves and the melody. Though there was no song to be sung, no music to be played, she could neve forget the moves to this particular dance. 'The Dance of the Swan Princess' had been a favourite of hers since childhood, one she'd always worked to perform. If she could master that then surely she would become graceful enough to be a dancer in the army of Ylisse, one who could truly bring inspiration to weary and bogged down troops. One who could really help and repay the debts she owed, the favor she had been shown.

    With that determination in mind Olivia let her feet began to carry her, toes twirling her about as her arms moved in mesmerizing and graceful patterns above her head, leaving the billowing fabric of her elegantly made outfit to form designs and shapes of pure beauty. In moments what had been the form of a deflated, anxious girl who seemed almost to be trying to collapse in upon herself had unfurled, like the most delicate of flowers, and had formed the silhouette of a beautiful, talented woman, one who continued to move, stretch, hop and twirl according to routine with such grace that even the most uncultured of men would surely be left slack-jawed in wonder. Yes, Olivia boasted nothing but words of how average she was, but when others commented on her dancing their grandiose praise was never any less than deserved. Though she never was able to see it Olivia's dancing was magnificent, an art unto itself. It was something she deserved to be proud of, and surely something others found to be an insurmountable joy.

    Caught up in the passion she helf for her art Olivia took some time to notice the presence of another person. eyes closed and focus centered she had been completely lost in her own world. And, when the sudden crunch of a particularly dry patch of greenery snapped her from that world Olivia was quite shocked. With a squeak and a flail all of the grace she had been exhibiting seconds ago seemed to all but disappear, flying out the window as her foot slipped under her and sent her crashing onto her backside.

    "I-I'm so sorry!" Quick to blame herself as always Olivia gave her apologies rather feverently, bowing her head as a blush spread to her cheeks. Just how long had she been watched? With how focused she was Olivia was sure she looked a complete fool. The more she thought about it the darker her blush became and it wasn't long before the tips of her ears to the end of her nose had lit up in a violent crimson shade that would be much better fitting of a tomato than a person.

    "I-I didn't mean to... I... Um, I apologize. Did you need me for something?" Embarrassment clear in the pitch of her wavering voice Olivia slowly pulled herself to her feet, wiping the dirt from her clothes. She was so humiliated, in fact, that she couldn't even meet the eye of the cavalier who'd spotted her. Instead she found her gaze finding ground once more. Of all the people who'd caught her as well, it, of course, had to be Piers. How embarrassing!


    "Ouch! Be careful!" Aone chided, voice a hiss as the lithe fingers of her husband continued to work at her exposed back, rubbing a thick mixture of a velnerality and a few medical herbs into the exposed wounds on her back. With gashes such as these, ones wide enough to leave the shirt she'd been wearing until moments ago bloodstained and in desperate need of stitching Aone really should have sought out a healer hours ago to have them patch her up. Stubborn as ever, though, the thief was completely unwilling to do so, leading to the situation at hand. The way she saw it, staves all had limited uses and she didn't want to waste them if she didn't have to. If she wasn't on the brink of death and it wasn't about to come to her in a wave of enemies she had no interest in being healed. While the clerics and monks of the group tended to chide her for this view, Libra especially who was one of the only ones who still bothered attempting to reason with her. Yes, she knew it could get infected and it could become serious, but it had never happened before. Aone had survived much worse than a few scratches before and she'd be damned if she let something as trifling as this do her in.

    With a sigh the bluette let her chin slump back into her crossed arms, the pillow supporting them sinking a little as the extra weight pressed into it. Not that it could sink very far, seeing as it was pretty much completely flat by now. Though they had many provisions here in the Ylissean army, important things such as food, clothing and shelter so some extent or another, they weren't exactly rolling in luxury. The drafty tents and low bedrolls could attest to that. Still, Aone didn't complain too much. She'd slept in worse places, and poorer conditions were sometimes more comfortable to her, familiarity giving her a sense of ease. When she and Henry had been invited to stay as guests at the castle of Ylisse's capital as honored guests she'd nearly become an insomniac, nights on the plushest bed money could buy leaving her rather sleep deprived.

    The next few minutes passed in what was mostly silence, broken by the occasional wince from Aone as Henry grazed over a particularly sensitive spot that sent a particularly sharp shock of pain down her spine. Otherwise though Aone mostly tried to enjoy the moment. The cool of the medicine, the feeling of Henry's hands on her skin... it wasn't often that they got to enjoy silent moments like this in the midst of all the chaos around them. Usually if they weren't fighting they were marching, and if not marching they were patching, planning, preparing. There was no end to all the work that needed to be done. Aone liked to think herself rather resilient, with enough energy to persevere through all of this, but having a respite from all the hustle and bustle was always nice too.

    Of course the silence didn't last too long. With silence always came a wandering mind, and with the current events that had been unfolding before them all a wandering mind meant lots of questions for Aone. Especially concerning one of the newest members of their army.

    Squirming a little as the thoughts began to plague her Aone shifted, twisting so she could look up at her husband and meet his ever-cheerful gaze. She wore the slightest of frowns but the crease of her brow made her look more perplexed if anything than angry. After a moment of trying to collect her webbed thoughts into a proper sentence Aone let her eyes lock with Henry's before her lips parted to unleash her contemplations.

    "It's... odd to have Sena here isn't it?" Resting her head on her palm Aone supported herself so she could continue to look at Henry, though she would admit that the tilt was rather unpleasant on her back, contracting the cuts that ran so deeply into her skin in a way Mirabelle would surely hit her for, was she here. When Aone said that having their apparent future daughter there with them was 'odd' she didn't mean it in a bad way. She seldom did when she called something odd - to see how she felt about things that most considered a bit off one needed only to look at her husband. Still, it was strange to meet their grown child before she was even born in this world. And even stranger was that Aone couldn't bring herself to refute the shorter girl's claims. Usually a skeptic she would have passed Sena off as a nut weeks ago and suggested she be left for the wolves. However there was a connection and it was as undeniable as it was unplacable. Aone had no idea from whence it came nor what the feeling was exactly, but it was deep-rooted, planted in the base of her gut. She knew they were connected somehow. She could feel it. Sena's undeniable resemblance to Henry didn't ease that feeling any either.
    #1 BlossomStars, Jun 24, 2016
    Last edited: Jul 5, 2016
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  2. Inigo
    The blue-haired mercenary crept through tall grasses and between trees. An evening escape from the camp and its many lights. Whoever's decision it was to camp near the forest made it all the easier for him to practise out of sight. For that he was grateful and relieved. It was more important than just catering to his nerves. Inigo wasn't sure what he'd do if she caught him dancing. Better not to think of it. His walk was not overly long. He quickly found a suitable clearing in the forest, situated next to a small pond. The campfires had become but distant dapples of light between the trees. Cicadas sang to the night, his own scene illuminated by the brightness of the full moon. He was still a moment. Eyes cast to the sky. The stars seemed different here. Even after nearly two years in this time Inigo liked to look at them. It wasn't a hobby, he didn't gaze. Just a glance given to the sky into the night, usually before his practise. They looked brighter here. Maybe even the stars of his time had given up. And the difference was that these ones still had hope. Maybe the change was with himself. Everything seemed brighter here. Often in ways he couldn't have imagined.

    Inigo hadn't even had the chance to begin his practise when he heard the brushes rustle behind him. Too heavy for wind, especially with such a light breeze out tonight. Damn! His hand went quickly to his sword, with a graceful turn he took his fighting stance against the adversary. Not a second later his position relaxed, guard lowered. His visitor was not a risen, but rather a fine sight for sore eyes. A face once so familiar.

    “Aha! H-hey Sena!” Inigo responded with a nervous chuckle. At least she arrived before he'd started. He wasn't overly surprised she was here. Well, he hadn't expected her here as in here at this clearing, but he'd known she'd joined up with the group. One of the first things he'd done after running into Chrom's companions (after the battle and subsequent date with the village lass) was seek an update. It was a conversation of mixed news, both bad and good. Of everyone he expected to make it, Lucina was at the top of the list. It was still great to see her well, regardless of her strength and determination. Lucina also informed him that both Owain and Sena were alive and had joined with Chrom's force. The others still remained unaccounted.

    He tried not to think too deeply on that.

    Then there was the news of Virion, of his father. He'd... died recently. They'd been alive together in the same world for nearly two years. And within a month of the time they would have reunited, the archer met his end. Inigo's heart sunk as he recalled the moment when he'd received the news. His mother was still here. Even if the situation with her was difficult, to say the least. Inigo had seen her already. Both the day he'd joined and in the group's most recently fought battle. Earlier was the first time he'd interacted with her directly. He'd seen her in a dire situation and rushed to the dancer's aide. His rashness had earned him a nasty hit, but the mercenary had protected her where he'd failed for his father. If she'd said anything he hadn't heard it. He was a flustered mess. Rushing off as quick as he'd arrived with only a chorus of his own mumbles.

    Yet all he wanted was to cling to her. To tell her who he was. Te embrace her and begin the process to make up for all the time they'd spent apart. The time he'd lived without her. To know her and to have her know him. But that wasn't possible. She didn't have the ring his father had given her in Inigo's own timeline. Such a bold claim without any proof? What reason was there for her to believe him? And so he was stuck. Both avoiding her and wanting to be around her at the same time.

    It was all a reminder that while things were better here, they were still at war. He pushed his thoughts away and the feelings attached to them. Instead he smiled. Big and bright. And why not smile when in the presence of such fine company? Especially if Sena might return the favour.

    “Still beautiful as ever~” Prettier even. The night light suited her well. His hand flickered to the back of his head. Great as it was to see her, he was a bit anxious. Meeting like this, after all this time. She seemed shorter now. More likely he was taller. He and his companions from the future were no longer the same relative age to each other as when they'd left. These were technically things. Things better for later than now. It was better to simply enjoy the company of his fair friend.

    “Care to join me for an evening swim?” Inigo asked still merry mannered. “Come on, the night is still young!”

    Tonight the cavalier was pleased to find himself free of watch duties. Overall his schedule was remarkably clear for the evening. Piers was gladdened by this outcome. Not that he minded the work. Indeed he thrived off it and was always pleased to be of assistance to Lord Chrom. But he was no Frederick and thus required a break now and then as any sane man would. Not that the evening would fall entirely to leisure. There was one matter of importance the knight intended to address that night. Piers wasn't immediately off to his objective, however. He'd calculated the time and found he needn't rush, so long as he remained prudent. So the cavalier took ease around a campfire along with several other companions to enjoy a fine dinner. And fine it was! He'd have to remember later to find and pay the chef his compliments. Piers even allowed himself a drink early on, but certainly not enough to bother him later. He ate and chatted his fill until the evening had settled and the stars lingered in the sky. Then the knight bid farewell to his dining companions before off in search of her he went.

    Piers' quest to find the dancer took a short while longer than he'd expected. She was not at her tent and appeared to have purposely chosen a location which was more difficult to find. When the knight eventually found her she was located in a rather lonely section of the camp. His eyes fell on her and he stopped. His pre-prepared words fell away as his gaze landed on her. It was rude to stare, Piers knew this. But for a brief moment he completely forgot any attempt to keep his manners. The knight was not far away, a couple paces. A place where he wouldn't disturb her and could watch clearly. She was beautiful. Graceful and fair like he hadn't seen before. Piers had seen her dance during battle before, but this was different. He felt like an intruder for not saying anything. He took a step forward intending to make himself obvious.


    The ground groaned beneath his weight. The woman let out a small shriek as a misstep and gravity worked together to bring her down. Piers moved swiftly. But fast not enough, for Olivia now sat on the grass.

    “What?” Piers questioned with his gaze still stuck on her. Why was she apologizing? He'd been the one to cause her fall. “You were beautiful.” He added, without too much thought. And then immediately collecting himself. You're being rude again. “If anyone should apologize it's me. It was impolite to watch without making my presence clear. And further to disturb your routine. Please accept my apologies.” His eyes shifted from her to a nearby and not-particularly-special patch of dirt.

    And that was when he realized he should have been helping her up. Yet before he could offer his arm she had righted herself and was speaking more. Yes. That was right. He did need to speak with her.

    “Yes. I'd almost forgotten. You were quite captivating. I don't know if I've seen a finer dancer.” Not that you've seen many dancers, he thought. “Olivia, isn't it? I'm not sure how familiar you are with me. I'm Piers, one of Lord Chrom's knights.” A formal introduction seemed a good idea. It might help ease up some of the awkward he was feeling from what had just happened.

    “I wanted to talk to you. About the battle this morning.”

    “Nope!” The sorcerer chimed. “If you wanted gentle you shoulda gone to the healers. Their staves woulda fixed you right up!” The battle earlier had been nasty. And awesome. Lots of the group had taken wounds and plenty others had died. But the Risen definitely had it worse. They were obliterated. Many were blown to bits or sliced to pieces. It had been a sight. And a fine victory for Chrom and Co. Most of those who taken injuries were reasonable enough to go see the healers after the battle. His silly wife wasn't one of these reasonable people. Instead of seeking aide she was being stubborn. And that was that! The reason Henry was helping her out the old fashioned way. Clean it up nice!

    Despite his claim only seconds ago. Henry was careful with her wounds. At least with making sure they were well-tended. The needed to be cleaned, coated in salve, and wrapped up. He'd seen what happened when wounds weren't treated. Skin turned grey and the wound filled with pus! Which was interesting. But bad. And he didn't want bad things to happen to Aone.

    “If you wiggle I'm going to mess up.” Henry chastised lightly, stopping a moment to avoid smearing the salve in all the wrong places. His job was almost done. The large red gashes mostly hidden behind the pale green solution. He waited for his dearies to settle again before he finished up applying mixture to her back.

    “Nah.” The sorcerer said casually as he set the cloth aside and reached for the bandages. “I think it's great!” He frowned for a brief second as he watched his finely spread salve crinkle in a couple places when Aone turned to look at him. Sena hadn't been with their little company long, but Henry was happy to have her around. It meant he got to spend even more time with his daughter. “We get to meet her before she even exists~” He replied, leaning forward and planting a kiss on Aone's. “Now face forward and arms up unless you to start over!” Henry continued with his usual smile as he waved the roll of bandages back and forth. “Are you okay with it?”

    “Oh, oh! Maybe we can do something together as a family!” He exclaimed. Something other than battle. “That would be fun!”
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  3. SENA

    Sena could tell Inigo was a bit nervous, be it to see her or simply because of his nature she wasn't sure. Still, it made her want to laugh - though she kept that temptation firmly hidden behind her ever-unamused expression. It was amusing to see Inigo flounder, even if just the slightest bit; to see that floral tongue caught by the hand of surprise. Being able to catch Inigo off guard was strangely satisfying.

    "An evening swim?" It wasn't long before Sena was the one being surprised, though. His compliment had been expected, a trait he'd had in the past too. It was comforting, in a way, to see that he was at least the same in that respect, but she still brushed it off with a roll of her eyes. It was just like old times. Almost. Though Sena still felt a bit apprehensive, drawn away from him with time, and there was a distinct lack of risen groaning about seeking to find them and slaughter them.

    "Ah, is that what you were doing out here all by yourself?" Feeling a bit at ease away from the crowd of Shepherds she'd joined with, shrouded in the calmer atmosphere of the night and the cover of the foliage, Sena let herself tease. Her words were dry but her eyes were alight with jest, grin more playful than mocking. Try as he might to hide it everyone knew of Inigo's love for dancing. Not a soul blamed him for it either, but he always shied away when it came time to practice. It was a trait he apparently shared with his mother - something Sena had come to learn a short while back after meeting the women herself.

    A tease though she may have been, Sena wasn't really going to make Inigo struggle through an excuse, nor a reply. And though she left him hanging for a moment just to see his face, silent as she found a tree to prop herself against as she crossed her arms she was merciful enough to speak up the moment she was comfortable.

    "Well, lovely as that sounds I don't have anything to swim in." She didn't have swimsuit with her - and even if she did it wasn't likely she'd wear it. Littered in scars from the future and bearing a few new ones from her unfortunate run in after appearing back in the past that she'd prefer to keep secret she'd hardly be comfortable in some frivolous string suit. And she wouldn't even entertain the thought of wearing less.

    "Didn't ask any other ladies to come with you?" Another taunt, for Sena just couldn't help herself now that she'd started, "Or is your luck no better than it was in the future?" Even in the dystopian future they came from Inigo was often getting shot down, advances going unappreciated by the warriors of women that inhabited their world. Of course, his offers were taken up on occasion - in a dying world many weren't near so reserved with their actions, never knowing if they'd live to have such opportunities again. But Sena could hardly imagine many here held such a view, even with the wars going on. They weren't that desperate - not yet.

    They would be soon though, if they couldn't fix it. Lucina had thought she'd solved all when she'd rescued the Exalt, but fate was trickier business than any of them had bargained for. It had a way of staying on course no matter its disruptions. So if they didn't manage to get things just right they could have come all the way back, sacrificed all they had to make it here, for nothing. It was a terrifying level of responsibility, to have the future hanging over their shoulders. And if they made any mistakes there's be no going back and trying again. It simply couldn't be done.

    "When did you get here?" Sena's question was sudden, a stab at the silence. She hadn't meant to get personal, especially so early in, but when her mind began to grope for anything that would distract her the question that hung at the forefront of her mind was the first thing it grabbed. Sena wouldn't deny that she was curious, though. They all seemed to be arriving at different times - at least, as far as she could tell from the contrast between her own story and Owain's. She'd managed to arrive before him, but not by that long.

    Now that she thought about it, really looked, Sena could tell that Inigo looked a little different. He was definitely the same old philanthropist from their world, but he just looked a little... different. His hair was a bit longer, shoulders a bit wider and he just somehow looked different. Grown, perhaps. Or maybe just lightened by the brilliance of this world compared to their own.


    Piers compliment was a simple one, and not one Olivia had never heard before. Her dancing was often the subject of praise, especially from the ever boisterous Basilio - though she could never quite get herself to agree with the compliments she received. Even so, hearing someone else say it, flattery in a new voice, taking a new face, one that looked so sincere, turned Olivia's already red face an even darker shade of vermillion. Much more praise and the poor dancer likely would have burst.

    "I-it's alright, don't worry about it." Not wanting the kindly knight to feel bad over startling her Olivia was quick to refute his apology, head shaking and hands raising in feeble protest. As always Olivia was blaming herself. If she really wanted to dance privately she should have taken a more secluded venue - somewhere no one would have thought to look. Besides, she shouldn't have been so shy anyways. She danced in battle for the weary soldiers all the time, dancing before the whole army. Yet she still couldn't bare to be seen by any one of them outside of battle.

    "Th-thank you! I'm still not that good, though." Piers' praise was kindly, and he didn't have the air of someone who would be lying to make her feel better, putting on airs to get on her good side. And he didn't stay on the subject like someone looking to get something for her. That simply made Olivia feel all the more bashful, beginning to pick idly at the flowing accents that surrounded her, fiddling at the golden bangles around her wrists and twisting her shimmering shawl around nervous fingers.

    Olivia nodded at his introduction, a sign that she'd heard of him. And she had, though not extensively. He was a fairly devoted soldier, from what she could tell. Not as obsessive as Frederick perhaps, but industrious, working hard to ensure that all was done around camp and everything was in order just the same. He was also proficient on the battlefield from what she'd seen of him, skillful with a lance and ready to do what needed to be done. He was a great part of the army and, to a small extent, Olivia envied that. She often felt much too fearful and weak to be much good, though Robin kept putting her in battles anyway.

    The moment Piers mentioned the most recent of those battles, one that had taken place just earlier that day, Olivia felt her heart drop, hands clenching into some of the excess fabric of her pants. She remembered a few things from that battle - dancing, and nearly getting killed. She wouldn't even be here now if it wasn't for the aid of their newest recruit who'd saved her and then, oddly enough, run off before she could so much as thank him. He was definitely an odd one. But despite his help Olivia would be lying if she said the encounter hadn't shaken her. A soldier though she was, she wasn't sure how ready she was to die here.

    "I-I'm sorry!" The apology was out before Olivia could even think about it, louder than she'd ever intended as her eyes screwed shut and her head dipped in an almost-bow. She could only imagine it suited whatever Piers was about to say though, thinking that he could only be here to lecture her on her inabilities, to tell her how much of a liability she was, how someone could have gotten hurt.

    "I'll keep practicing." It was a promise to him, but even more to herself. She wanted more than anything to be useful, to live up to the debt she owed the former Exalt, Emmeryn. And she knew (at at least thought) better than anyone that she couldn't do that in her current state.


    Aone just pouted when Henry told her to get back into position again, huffling lightly as she obliged. That was another reason she never bothered with the healers. Any wounds like this and they'd want to take all the time to heal it properly. Even with their staves she'd be there much longer than she wanted. She was far too impatient to deal with such things.

    Really, Henry was the only one who could make her sit still. She'd charge blindly into a horde of risen for him if she had to, so laying without moving too much for a while hardly seemed such a crazy thing to do by comparison. Still, she was already getting quite antsy and the fact that it was her husband's hands on her back, tenderly caring for her wounds, was one of the only reasons she was even still bothering to lay there. That, and she hated to see him pout. She'd endure a little impatience if it kept him smiling.

    "Of course I'm ok with it." Aone was quick to try to ease Henry's worries, easing her head back onto her folded hands as her eyes began to idly study the wall of their tent, "I just find it a bit... strange to know about the future before it happens." Aone was one to live in the moment, go with what was happening in the now. Knowing too much about what the days to come would bring tended to make her uneasy. Knowing something as momentous as the fact that she and Henry would have a child, and knowing just who that child was and who she'd grow to be, made that feeling worse.

    Aone was proud, of course, that she had raised such a strong beautiful daughter. But the idea of having a child still came with worries. She'd never had proper parents, so she never really knew how to be one. She was sharp and cold, qualities she cared not if strangers faced, but she never wanted to end up alienating her own child with her sharp tongue. Could she be supportive enough? Kind enough? Good enough? The thoughts made her anxious.

    Henry, at least, seemed to be making a better father than Aone had ever expected. She'd not thought he would be bad - no, he was far too loving and caring a husband for her to think he'd mistreat their child. But he could be rather unorthodox, and he'd had no more a traditional family than Aone herself. If the way he treated Sena now was any indication though, the Sena of their time would have at least one parent they would know they could always rely on.

    "Sure." Something as a family. Some planning would be a welcome distraction from her rampant thoughts. And so long as she had Sena here now, Aone figured she could get some practice in where it came to the art of being a mother. Of course, caring for a grown child and looking after a toddler were very different things, but... well, something was better than nothing. And everyone had to start somewhere.

    "Like a --ah! A picnic or something? We used to have picnics when I was a kid. They were ok." It was one of Aone's few fond memories, and the first thing that came to mind; though she decided to leave out the part where she tried to steal all the sandwiches and feed bits of her own to ants. The thief's sentance was broken as she flinched at the salve beginning to seep in, starting to work its magic. It would leave her gashes ghosts of their past selves by the next morning, but Naga above did it sting. Aone could feel her back muscles beginning to tense in response to the pain. The third, least known reason Aone avoided the healing tent - she was a baby when it came to medicine. Leave her banged up in battle, bruised by clubs or shredded by the claws of the risen and she'd find some way to shake it off. But a little salve on her back, or a biter root on her tongue, and Aone was immediately rather unhappy.

    "Is this almost done?"
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