Private Tales Somewhere Only We Know

[Vazia Ferreira]

The sunrise was soft and slow as Vazia awoke. She could not recall dreaming, and she thought it might have been the first time she had slept without nightmares interrupting her slumber. She also thought she knew why.

She had never been as warm as she was now. Villam's arms were a solid, safe weight around her, and she never wanted to leave them. She was slow to open her eyes, and she did her best not to shift, so as not to wake Villam. Her head was tucked into his shoulder, her arm draped across his chest, their legs tangled beneath the blankets of Villam's bed.

Every time she blinked she saw and felt Villam again- his lips and hands on her skin, the warmth of his gaze. The intensity and heat had cooled but Vazia could still feel the fire burning between them, and like a fool she hoped it never went out.

What were all these things running through her mind, through her heart? She was stunned that she was still able to feel anything but she did. Her stone was a distant hum, easily pushed aside. What would she have to give up for this? She knew nothing good in life came for free. She had already lost so much, she had thought she didn't have anything more to lose. But now, she had something to lose. Someone to lose.

She was afraid, especially now, but evidently she was not afraid enough to do what was perhaps the smart thing and leave. She was a fool, so she did not pull away from him. His words from the night before ran through her mind, as if they were reason enough to stay.

I don't care what's hiding behind the void... I'll fight it with you,

Was it enough?

Villam Regis

 

[Villam Regis]

For the first time in as long as Villam could remember, he did not awake to the hollow feeling of isolation that had plagued his every day. The barren halls, and the empty rooms of this estate did not immediately taunt him with the echoes of his own breath, and the chill of the sheets underneath him did not urge him to leave and flee this last remnant of his family's normalcy to submerge himself in his duties, as he had since becoming Guardian.

He was certain these nagging terrors were still present, ready to gnaw at his sanity the moment he allowed himself reprieve. Today though, they were warded off; they could not reach him through the woman sleeping in his arms.

For all that Villam had derided the Valenn Festival in years past, he could not deny what it had brought him. Vazia Ferreira, the Guardian of Void, and now so much more. In this room where he'd felt so cut off from the world, so alone... she'd made him feel complete.

Villam had awoken some time ago, but did not open his eyes. To do so would break this spell, would end this moment that he wished would go on forever. He reveled in her weight against his body, the swells and curves of her figure as it melted so effortlessly against his own, every inch of her engraved into his mind, explored by hand, eye, and lips. Her heartbeat seemed to match his, the rise and fall of her breath a monotone he could have slept to for hours more.

Alas, even he couldn't stall forever. His eyes cracked open to look down at his fellow Guardian, his friend, and now his lover. The first words that came to his lips were not the ones he intended; they were what he'd wished to speak the night prior, what he'd been unable to once the heat of the moment had taken them, once the need had preoccupied their lips with other matters.

"I love you."

Vazia Ferreira

 

[Vazia Ferreira]

After a few moments of silence, Vazia noticed the rise and fall of Villam's breath had changed, and she realized he was awake. She shifted her head to look up at him just as he looked down at her. She knew the words on his lips before she heard them and a fear unlike anything she'd ever known entered her. Without realizing it, she tightened her grip on him. Her body tensed and her mind raced.

She had to tell him.

She knew she would have to eventually, and she should've told him, before she'd danced with him, before she'd kissed him, before she'd slept with him.

Before she'd begun to love him.

It would have been easier to tell him then, when she had less to lose. When she wouldn't be as afraid that when he truly knew what had happened and what she had done he would leave; no matter what he said.

She pushed herself up off him onto her elbow, but did not separate herself from him entirely.

"Villam," she started, but she couldn't seem to finish the sentence. She was making a habit of saying his name with such raw emotion that she hadn't known in years.

How did one go about telling such a thing? No living person save for her knew what had happened and what hid behind her blank exterior. Only Villam had begun prodding at it, had peeled back her outer layers. And she found she wanted only Villam to know.

Villam Regis

 

[Villam Regis]

He hadn't expected her to repeat the words, nor did he wish for her to feel as though she must. The confession that Villam had made was the latest in selfish choices he'd made over the last day, something done far more for himself than for her.

To hear his own voice say the truth aloud was a confrontation of his humanity, undeniable proof that he hadn't become the unfeeling machine he sometimes felt himself to be.

Vazia propped herself up, looking down at him from the side as his name again left her lips. Regis wasn't oblivious; he understood that there was something dark within Vazia, something she was burying deep inside of herself, and using the Void that her stone bequeathed her to shield it.

There was fear in her eyes, even behind the affection and surprise that attempted to hide it.

But he'd steeled himself. What he'd experienced with Vazia in the last twenty-four hours was something he was not willing to let go of. Whatever horror awaited him beneath those blue eyes, whatever secrets had been left unsaid, Villam had already resolved to plant his feet and hold firm.

The Guardian of Passion had found a new wellspring of his namesake.

"You once asked me what I find Passion in, why I remain and fight when I could simply leave." Villam muttered up to her. "Should you allow me, I'd desire you to be my reason."

Vazia Ferreira

 

[Vazia Ferreira]

Vazia's heart twisted in a way it hadn't in ten years.

She did not move as she looked down at him. "Villam, there are things you ought to know about me, if.. if we are going to do this," she said after a moment, her voice soft. He was offering her so much, and she had nothing to give him. Nothing but a tragic story.

She had sent several things into the void, mostly her memories, but had yet to retrieve any of them. Her stone kept them locked up, but without her stone, it was easier to take them out, even if she didn't want to. But now, she knew it was inevitable.

She had never attempted it before but she had heard of previous Void guardians performing a sort of memory retrieval and projection, and it was what she was planning to do now. Take Villam through her memories, one in particular.

"Can I show you?"

Villam Regis

 

[Villam Regis]

It wasn't in Villam's nature to cower now. He'd made promises to Vazia over the course of the last night that he intended to keep. What he felt for the woman laying beside him wasn't something he was willing to give up for fear of the unknown.

He knew in his heart, that Vazia was far more fearful of what was about to happen than he. This was her darkness that they faced, not his. Whatever had plagued her had gnawed at her mind until she'd used her stone to suppress it. That was a dread that Regis could not fathom.

Villam's hand moved from the bed to rest carefully against her cheek; his fingers grazed across her pale flesh affectionately, almost adoringly as he brushed aside some of the silvery hair that fell wild and untamed through the night. "Vazia..." Her name held the same tone as it had since they'd entered this home; heavy, and full of emotion he couldn't express with any other word. "I made you a promise. Do you recall?"

The Passion Guardian rose slightly from the bed, leaning forward to gently press his lips to hers. It was a far cry from the heat they'd reached before, but it was reminiscent of the first kiss under the pavilion, that initial crossing of the line between them.

"Nothing will make me turn my back now."

Vazia Ferreira

 

[Vazia Ferreira]

As Villam leaned forward to kiss her, she both hated and was glad for how brief it was. When he pulled back she kept her eyes shut for a moment, working up the courage to do what she had to do.

After a couple moments, she opened her eyes, and reached out a slow, shaky hand, placing her hand on Villam's temple, her fingers sliding through his hair. She leaned forward and rested her forehead on his; and something like an apology escaped her lips before her memory came rushing forth.

(TW)

They were in a small cottage, standing apart from the people inside of it, though its inhabitants didn’t seem to notice them. It seemed to be a large family. A girl of about 16 that looked to be a younger version of Vazia was holding a baby, talking excitedly to an older man Vazia knew was her father as he set down a travel bag. Her hair was no longer white, rather a pale blonde, and her pale skin was flushed with joy. Her three younger sisters and mother could be seen in the kitchen, setting the table for dinner. The scene was quite familiar.

The younger Vazia disappeared into a side room and reappeared, her arms free of the baby. She sat down at the table beside one of her sisters, who called her Aislynn. Dinner was a joyous affair. The family was in mid-conversation about her father’s travels when suddenly the window shutters were flung open and a cloaked figure leapt into their home. He stabbed her father from behind before anyone could do anything. A smile was still frozen on her father’s face when he died.

The younger Vazia- Aislynn, her name had been- and her sisters and mother screamed and leapt up, trying to escape. Their mother did not get far, as the figure grabbed her from behind. Aislynn was sobbing and scrambling towards her sisters, weak with fear.

Suddenly, the man was upon them. He snatched Cleo, who was six, up by the arm, and gutted her like a fish, spraying red. Aislynn had a sudden surge of adrenaline and she tackled the man from behind. He slipped on Cleo’s blood and hit his head on the door frame into the living room as he fell. He threw her off him and grabbed her nine-year old sister Mara, smashing her head into the wall without even getting up.

He turned back around and grabbed Aislynn, pinning her to the floor beneath him. Cleo’s and Mara’s blood seeped through her shirt, warming her back. He made swipes at her with his knife, but she caught his wrists, trying in vain to keep his knife away from her body. He cut her arm in the struggle but didn’t seem as bent on killing her as the others.

Then her baby cried and both Aislynn and the man froze, looking up and towards the side room she had walked into earlier. He was off her quickly, disappearing into the baby’s room. Aislynn moaned a sob in fear, struggling to get to her feet to follow him. She got there just in time to see him slice open her son from navel to chin. Aislynn screamed and leaped forward, tackling the man to the ground. She pummeled him incessantly, his hood falling from his face to reveal his identity. It was Fredrik. The father of her child. The boy she had thought she loved.

Aislynn choked on her sobs and stilled. It was Fredrik. Fredrik had killed her parents, her sisters, and their son. He took advantage of her frozen shock and shoved her off of him. He turned to grab his dagger from where it had fallen on the floor, but it wasn’t there anymore. He turned his head as Aislynn’s last and oldest sister, Sage, plunged his own dagger into his shoulder. He bellowed in pain and ripped it out, swinging his arm wide to cut open Sage’s throat. Her blood sprayed over him and dripped down his face as he looked at Aislynn on the ground in front of him. He had a calm, cool expression on his face but when he looked at Aislynn, something flickered in his gaze. She took advantage of his pause and lunged forward, wrapping her hands around his throat and squeezing with all of her pain and grief.

She held firm, even as he began to jerk underneath her. His face went purple, then gray. She was crying and as he drew nearer to death something like the love she had once known returned to his gaze. When he died, she wrapped him in his cloak so she wouldn’t have to look at him.

She crawled over to the remains of her baby, his small face still screwed up in a cry. She unleashed a scream that could've peeled the paint off walls, curdled milk, and made even the bravest man afraid. It sounded as if she were being tortured to death by the most horrid of means. And, looking at the bloody husk of her son, surrounded and covered in the blood of those she loved, she was.

She wrapped Owyn in a blanket, covering his sweet face that she couldn’t bear to look at. She laid down next to him on the blood-slicked floor for most of the night, crying and passing in and out of consciousness.

She burned her family’s bodies in their house that night, including Fredrik’s body.

It was here that the memory faded back to the early morning light of Villam’s bedroom.

She had collapsed on top of him, her hands weak on his temples, her face wet with tears, and her entire body shaking from holding back the sobs.

Villam Regis

 

[Villam Regis]

What was there to say?

While Villam had known that Vazia hid away some dire trauma, concealed it deep inside her psyche to shield both those around her and The Void Guardian herself, he hadn't dared speculate on what that trauma could be. To even venture a guess felt as though it was somewhat disrespectful, a breach upon her privacy, and agency to reveal said truths to him.

Now that it had all been replayed for him, displayed in his mind's eye as if he'd been standing in the room where it happened in real time, what was there for him to say? There were no words that could offer her recompense, no assurances or honeyed comforts that could mitigate that awful, hellish pain she'd been forced to endure.

Perhaps the question that posed itself to him was not what he should say, but what Vazia thought showing him these things would do. Did she think this would instill fear in him? That he would run from her embrace and look down upon her for what she considered to be failings? Did she think he would judge her? See her differently? That perhaps he would decide that Aislynn and Vazia were not one and the same, and that he could not reconcile this revelation?

No, all of that was farce.

The Aislynn he saw in her memories was the same woman who now lay in a sobbing heap against his chest. She was the same woman whom he'd kissed under the pavilion the night before, the same who'd called his name to the stars in the throes of passion, filling this old home with their shared breath as they'd brought each other to blissful heights they'd only dreamed of.

Aislynn was Vazia, and he was in love with Vazia. It mattered not where she'd been, but where was now, in his home, in his arms, in his bed.

And he would never let such an atrocity befall her, ever again.

His words said as much, whispered softly into her as he kissed the top of her head.

"I'm here now." He muttered, running his fingers through her hair. "Never again. I'll stand by you always, so long as you'll have me..."

Vazia Ferreira

 

[Vazia Ferreira]

Vazia could not hold herself together any longer.

Her stone was a distance away in the Tower and she had never felt its absence as much as she did now. But as she came undone, as she fell into the deep depths of despair, Villam was there to catch her. His arms were solid around her and she held onto him, afraid that if she let go she'd never stop falling.

He was still here and he still loved her, and through her despair she thought she had been a fool for doubting the Guardian of Passion. For doubting the man who was so much more than that.

It was only his words and his love and the unutterable relief that brought her that kept the fading memories at bay. Though they were fading, they were still there- just softer, duller, not as painful. She had not let herself relive that awful night since it had happened, and it had festered inside of her, and then festered inside of the void. There was a sort of strange peace that came with reliving it, one that Vazia could not explain.

It was by no means over, though. Vazia knew there would be times when it would be harder to fight back the memories, when she would yearn for her stone to ease the pain like a drug, but she would not be fighting alone.

She did not separate herself from Villam as she managed to get some semblance of control over herself. Crying would not bring her family back. She was silent for a long while, thinking on all that Villam had said to her. She didn't know how much time had passed before she finally spoke.

"I love you too, Villam,"

Villam Regis

 

[Villam Regis]

More honeyed words of comfort were unneeded. They would only serve to lessen the meaning of the moment they now shared. Villam had declared his unconditional support for Ferreira, in spite of her demons, in spite of her history and trauma. As she lay against his chest, allowing her tears to flow free without the restraint she'd held so steadfast for so long, he knew that she placed her faith in him. She needed no further convincing.

The trials ahead of them, were they to truly be together, were many. At some point, Vazia would retake her stone, and the wall around her emotions would return, in some capacity. The nightmares that made residence in Vazia's head were not dispelled by one outpouring of emotion. They would remain, and Regis had no doubt they'd once more make themselves known.

This time, Villam was ready. He knew what they faced, and he knew what he was willing to do for the woman in his arms.

Anything.

The words she finally spoke were all he'd needed to here, the only confirmation left for him to plant his feet and stand beside her for as long as they both drew breath. Villam wrapped his arms snugly around her as she lay silent against his body, tucking his chin into her neck and breathing in time with her, focusing on the steady beat of her heart, almost willing his own to match it.

"I don't want to leave."

Vazia Ferreira

 

[Vazia Ferreira]

Her face was drying but her heart was still swollen with emotions.

Her breathing evened out until she was breathing in time with Villam, their chests rising and falling in sync. With her head on his shoulder and her hand on his chest, she could feel his heartbeat beneath her fingertips. The steady rhythm was soothing, with the weight of his arms around her, and the soft warmth of his breath against her shoulder.

"Nor do I," she replied, her voice soft and small. She was perfectly content to spend the rest of the day in Villam's arms, with not a thought spared for the rest of the world. The world could wait, just a while longer.

The rest of the large house around them was quiet- Vazia could hear nothing except for Villam's breathing. So they were truly alone here, save for any servants that might reside here.

Villam Regis

 

[Villam Regis]

"Then let's not."

The Guardians, The Stones, The Tower and The Absalon, they could all be damned as far as Villam was concerned. The only thing that mattered right now, the only thing that he cared about was Vazia. Was Aislynn. She'd not face the light of day outside of his home, outside of his arms, until she was ready. Until then, he would hold her, just as he had through the night.

"I don't know what happens next..." Regis murmured, angling his head to place soft pecks of affection along her brow, his hands drawing idle shapes along the bare flesh of her back. "But I am ready for it, so long as you are by my side. So long as I can find my peace in you." The hardships outside the estate that awaited them were many, but right here? With Ferreira in his bed? Her skin against his? All was right.

Alas, he could not idle in the sheets with her forever.

"Are you hungry?" He finally asked, resting a hand on the back of her head. They'd abandoned the Festival before the feast last night, and to say they'd expended energy on one another would be an understatement. "I feel as though I should show you my home, provide some breakfast... I haven't really done this sort of thing before. You're..."

My first lover? Don't tell her that, you dolt.

"...You must be famished."

Vazia Ferreira

 

[Vazia Ferreira]

She was still and quiet as Villam's lips and hands moved across her skin. She shivered involuntarily as he spoke, letting his words truly sink in. She knew he meant it, every word.

There was a moment of comfortable silence before he spoke up again, and Vazia took a deep breath in and out.

She waited until he had finished speaking, and she pretended she could not hear the nervousness in his voice, especially when he paused. She sat up reluctantly and nodded. She was indeed hungry- she had not eaten since noon the day before. She had had more pressing matters to focus on last night.

It took a moment for her to realize her only item of clothing here was her red dress from the festival, and she didn't particularly want to put it back on again.

She turned back to Villam. "I don't have any clothes," her voice was dry, almost like usual, but her flushed cheeks and nervous gaze betrayed her.

Villam Regis

 

[Villam Regis]

Somehow, hearing her voice a concern so light and insignificant compared to the heavy woes they'd spoken of up until this point was enough to ease the tension that Vazia's memories had built above their heads. Villam allowed his eyes to roam over her as she turned to face him, finding the slightest hint of blush on her cheeks to be a fine addition.

"And? Forgive me, Vazia, but I can't say I'm opposed to you staying as you are now..." It was a fine view, one he looked forward to seeing more of, to having beside him when he needed warmth, when he needed comfort. Regis counted himself lucky for being given the chance to explore every inch of it. After a moment, though, he chuckled and swung his legs off of the bed to stand himself up, equally devoid of clothing. "I'm certain I can find something for you, but I can't promise it will be high-fashion. Just stay away from windows, yeah?"

There was only the sound of his feet padding against the bare wood of the floor as he walked across his bedroom to the closet. He quietly retrieved a simple shirt and a pair of loose trousers for himself-- he had no intention of worrying about his duty today, not when he'd found something far more important in his own home.

"I hadn't planned on bringing you back here the way I did." He spoke back to her as he dressed. "But... I feel as though I've wanted this longer than I realized. Since the eve of Homecoming, I've felt drawn to you. The drink we shared on the roof... It was the only happy memory I've made in some time."

Now, he had more. Now, he had a partner to create as many as he wished.

Vazia Ferreira

 

[Vazia Ferreira]

Vazia did not move or speak as Villam replied and a bit of comfortable ease returned between them. She watched unabashedly as he dressed.

When he finished, she rose from the bed as well, walking silently over to him until she stood in front of him. She tilted her head to look up at him, lifting her hand to trace his cheekbone with her thumb. After a moment of silence, she pushed onto her toes and pressed a kiss to his mouth before walking past him into his closet.

Following his earlier movements, she chose a shirt and a pair of pants for herself and pulled them on. They were too large for her, obviously, but with some rolls in the sleeves and the pants they fit rather well.

They did not, however, do a particularly good job of covering her modestly but she supposed that since Villam had already seen every inch of her, and as long as she stayed away from windows she would be fine. The two were here alone, after all.

Villam Regis

 

[Villam Regis]

When Villam had said he'd find clothing for her, he meant some actual women's wear, something from one of the guest closets that his attendants no doubt kept stocked in the hopes of some company that wasn't Villam's moody ass. Watching Vazia pull his own clothes on, how loosely they fit her and the pitiful job they did to hide any of her modesty...

Something about it was intimate, and Regis decided that it was far from him to stop her; He merely smiled and crossed his arms, taking in the view before him. It definitely wasn't one he'd expected to see in his lifetime, nor one he'd soon forget.

"Perhaps I should have tried to get you out of your clothes sooner." He joked as he walked past her towards the door of his bedroom. "You look divine in mine." The man let out a quiet chuckle as he stepped back out into the hallway, turning to the left to walk down the staircase leading back to the ground floor.

The doorway into the estate was a bit of a mess; the two of them had knocked over a few things in their hurry to get to bed-- a poor vase was victim, as were a few paintings that had hung too low on the wall. Villam clicked his tongue and used a foot to brush the wreckage to the side for now, and crossed over into the large kitchen.

Usually there were a couple paid servants here to prepare food, but Villam had given them the day after the Festival off, and so it lay with him to scavenge through the pantry for goods to prepare. A few eggs, perhaps some meat from the icebox.

Vazia Ferreira

 

[Vazia Ferreira]

Vazia knew even before she turned to face Villam once more that he had been watching her, and the look on his face when she did turn to look at him sent shivers down her spine.

"Really," she replied, following Villam out of his room and back down to the ground floor. She pretended not to notice the path of destruction leading up to his bedroom as they made their way to the kitchen.

"And when would you have done so, exactly?" she went on, slipping back into their usual back and forth banter; except this time, her face and her voice were not so devoid of emotions. A smile tugged at her lips and a flush colored her cheeks as she adjusted the collar of Villam's shirt around her neck.

Even the kitchen was empty of any sort of servants, and Vazia wondered if any had been here last night or if Villam had given them the day off. She knew little of servants- both Aislynn and Vazia had never had the money or the desire for any.

Villam Regis

 

[Villam Regis]

Villam pulled the pantry doors open, the closet-sized space lush with food and drink to spare. He scoffed playfully back to Vazia's question as he leaned forward to reach in and retrieve something to prepare for the two of them. "Well, now that I know my infallible charms work on you, I'm sure I could have found some opportunity."

Actually, he wasn't sure there had been such a chance before last night. They'd had a touching moment on the roof of the Tower, but that night had been the first they'd felt anything for one another. No, the timing had been perfect, and Villam wouldn't have traded what they'd done for anything.

That didn't change the fact he wished he'd found her sooner.

"Nevertheless," Villam pulled out a wooden bowl containing a few eggs, as well as some tightly wrapped bread the servants had baked some days earlier. Igniting the furnace, which warmed a flat sheet of smoothed stone above with its flames, he placed the bread on the countertop and began to slice it with a knife from a nearby block. "When word gets around about this, and it will, there will be many eyes upon us."

It had been some time since two Guardians had engaged in such a relationship, and judging from what he'd seen on their way out, when his eyes had not been so shamelessly wandering Vazia's form, they were not the only ones who had found feelings during the Festival.

Once the bread was sliced, Villam cracked the eggs over the now searing hot stone, and the sizzle of them frying filled the kitchen.

"But I'm not ashamed. It will take time for me, to adjust to this love that I hold for you. So long as you return to me at day's end, I will endure any scrutiny."

Vazia Ferreira

 

[Vazia Ferreira]

Vazia stood sort of uselessly off to the side as Villam prepared eggs and bread for their breakfast. They had gotten here so quickly, Vazia actually wondered what pushed the two over the edge. They hadn't spoken much (if at all) since before this year's Homecoming, and since then it had been a strange thing between them. Not until last night had Vazia realized what exactly it was. Or perhaps she had already known since the night on the roof but she had been unwilling to admit it to herself. Her stone would have certainly made it easier to pretend she felt nothing for the man that stood before her now.

"I am used to eyes on me, and I am sure you are as well. It should be easier now that we have each other," she replied simply, as if it was merely a matter of perspective. And perhaps it was. The others would judge them and form their own opinions and assumptions but Vazia had had practice dealing with that sort of thing.

"I don't plan on going anywhere," she replied to Villam's last statement, her voice getting softer and more reminiscent of Aislynn's voice.

She drifted closer to Villam until she stood by his side at the stone stove where their breakfast was cooking. She leaned her head on his arm and watched as the eggs sizzled.

Villam Regis

 

[Villam Regis]

Villam was indeed used to the eyes of others on his back, though that stemmed more from the properties of his Stone rather than genuine interest in him. For that reason, he'd often resented the looks he received, if for no other reason than because they were artificial.

Vazia's eyes, though... The Void Wielder was the first person he'd met whose gaze he reveled in. The way she looked at him, the way that the color briefly returned to her eyes whenever they met his... It was intoxicating. It made him feel as though he were more than his Father's son, more than A Guardian.

Perhaps this was always what he'd wanted, something more to fight for. Beyond duty, or a surname. In Ferreira, he'd found the closest thing he'd ever had to a reason.

"I'll hear no end of this once my father learns." Villam bemoaned, but not without a small smirk on the corner of his lips as he felt her head nuzzle into his arm. "If you receive any summons to the Tower, steel yourself."
He finished cooking the meal and deftly moved the eggs and meat onto a pair of plates, finding the act came easier to him than he'd imagined, seeing as he'd not done it since...

"This was my mother's favorite breakfast." Villam placed the plates upon the large table, pulling out a chair and seating himself as he recalled those final few months... "After she passed, I used to make this on her birthdays, and share the meal with my Father. Before we began to drift apart."

Vazia Ferreira

 

[Vazia Ferreira]

Vazia looked up at Villam. "What would he have to say to me?" she asked calmly, but she was already beginning to wonder what would happen.

She followed him to the table and sat across from Villam, adjusting Villam's pants on her as she sat down. "I'm glad you're sharing it with me," she said, her voice more reminiscent of the girl she was when she was 16.

She was silent for a while as she ate. It could've been awkward, but she did not feel awkward sitting in the kitchen in Villam's clothes. She felt as if she were... at home.

Villam Regis

 

[Villam Regis]

"Nothing too serious, I imagine." Villam rolled his eyes at the thought of Solomon's spiel. If anybody could take it without any trouble, it would be Vazia. Even so, the slightest pang of protective instinct stirred in the young Regis' gut. "Probably a monologue about the importance of connections, a warning about our stones being too close together, maybe some sprinkled in pride about how it happened during the festival." He shrugs, smirking over his food at Ferreira.

"I'm taking you to your place first and foremost, get you some new clothes. You look ravishing in that, but you're gonna fall out of them if you so much as stumble one step." Villam certainly wouldn't mind the view, but he'd rather keep such privilege to himself. More words came to his tongue, but he found himself biting them back.

It felt strangely natural, being in her presence, even with silence in the air. So much so that he found himself wanting to speak far more than he normally would, even if for no other purpose than to watch her eyes flitter back to his own.

"So, you don't have to answer this if you don't want to. But I'm curious..." He mused. "After that tragedy, you changed your name. Where does Vazia Ferreira come from? It's too unique for you to have simply come up with it on your own..."

Vazia Ferreira

 

[Vazia Ferreira]

Vazia raised an eyebrow. She thought she was rather curious to have the Absalon preach at her, the way Villam put it. Villam did not say his father would forbid such a relationship, which now she thought about it sounded foolish, but the judgment would still be there, and not just from the Absalon. Vazia found she did not care either way. As long as Villam was with her.

"That would be unfortunate," she replied with a faint smile when he mentioned her clothes. She finished her breakfast just as he spoke up again.

She looked up once more, her pale blue eyes meeting his own. She was silent for a moment, wondering how best to phrase her answer. "After... the fire, I had felt the Void stone, as if it were... reaching out to me. In those first few days, I... found the name in the void. I shed the skin of Aislynn, left her in the void, and took on Vazia." She paused once more, pretending she could not feel even now the void stone calling out to her, faint as it was. "I enlisted in the Vanguard. I could feel the stone more in Valentennia. I don't think it was luck or coincidence when I was chosen as the next Guardian of the Void Runestone."

Villam Regis

 

[Villam Regis]

Villam closed his eyes contemplating the story she shared with him over his meal. He'd undergone his fair share of trauma, but nothing to the degree of what the woman sitting across from him had experienced. There was much about her explanation that Villam did not understand, and it was difficult to discern whether the void she spoke of was a metaphysical one or the element that she wielded. Perhaps both?

Regardless, his job was not to comprehend, but to listen and sympathize. That, he was capable of. Sipping his drink and running an index finger idly along the rim of the glass, Passion's eyes slid open to gaze across the table to Ferreira. "The Stone called to you, at your weakest moment." He surmised, letting out a hum. "It gave you a new name, and a new purpose, a reason to be when you needed it most."

A question caught in his throat, something he wished to know, but was a step too far. At least, this early in their relationship. Another time, he would ask her. For now, he shrugged his shoulders and shoveled another bite of the meat into his mouth, chuckling around his breakfast.

"Usually I'm not a fan of the games they play with us, these Runes..." Villam admitted, "But it brought you to me. For that, I am indebted to the Void, for you bring me that which Void brought you. A new reason. I was in more desperate need of it than I care to admit, Vazia..."

Vazia Ferreira

 

[Vazia Ferreira]

Vazia tilted her head as he spoke. She supposed he was right. Her stone had called to her at her weakest moment, given her a new name and a new life, but she knew none of it had been out of benevolence. She knew her stone fed on her trauma. It needed her trauma just like she had needed its emptiness. She had managed for seven years not to think of what had happened to her, her stone always within grasp. It was like a drug, she supposed, and the withdrawal would be hard.

She supposed the Void had given a reason, a purpose. Not one she likely would have chosen for herself ten years ago, but a purpose to keep on living for nonetheless. And her stone had indeed brought her to Villam, intentionally or not. Though Villam was the reason she had spent the most time ever away from her stone, she was glad for it. It had allowed her to be closer to him, to open up in a way that would have been impossible had her stone been around her neck like usual.

He seemed as if he was about to ask another question but then he changed his mind, contemplating more before speaking again.

She supposed it was only fitting that he could say such things so poetically- he was the Guardian of Passion afterall, but Vazia knew it was more than just that. He was a passionate man, even without the stone. She had her memories of last night to prove it. She, however... was not so poetic.

"With the stone, it was the same every day. I wasn't really living, just surviving. I was afraid to live," she paused a moment, "I think I still am afraid, a little bit. I'm afraid I'll lose you. But with you... even the fear... I feel alive."

Her pale blue eyes were fixed on him, her breakfast momentarily forgotten.

Villam Regis