Private Tales Until We Meet Again

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer

Ysobel

Stormy
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Holy fuck, were all initiates this annoying? Ysobel pondered her silent question as the two poor excuses for initiates bumbled along behind her. A boy, tall and slender with dark hair and freckles, and a girl, medium height but built like a tank, gossiped about the latest drama between their classmates. The Academy was making them soft. She noted, tuning out their talking after the girl complained about ‘only having to run 15 laps’ after something she called a “peet zuh party”.

It was almost a fond memory, running until they threw up or passed out. Nothing would beat the punishments they used to face. She recalled a certain point when they stopped feeling like punishments and almost became fun knowing you were getting stronger. Maybe it was just how delusional they were becoming that led to such feelings. This new generation would never understand and she was certain they’d lose more in their graduation to proctors than to each other.

Whatever. Wasn’t one of the two problems on her plate.

One being that she had been merciful enough to put them all up in an inn throughout the duration of their mission. Awful little runts chose to talk all night. No, not talk, laugh. Sure, there was once a time she appreciated a good joke, but she grew up into someone more disciplined (bitter). She liked to think she was feared, but if anything she had proven herself to be respectable at the least. She had grown stronger and could handle her own, allowing her quite a few solitary missions. Boy would she kill for one of those right now.

Which brings up the other problem- their mission.

They had only given her a piece of parchment with a description and location. While she couldn’t care less about what abilities her herd of initiates possessed, she found her particular set of skills would prove useless in such an urban area. Perhaps they wanted her to oversee the younglings and let them lead, but given the lack of enthusiasm for anything other than food and accessories they spotted in windows there was no way in hell that was happening.

Tall, red hair, city of Ithlond. Dead or alive. That was it. She’d already counted twelve red heads in the twenty four hours since their arrival. How the hell was she supposed to find this tall red head?

She scanned around for her two incompetent children, which were fortunately (or unfortunately) nowhere to be found. Ysobel was sure there was no chance in hell the two of them could have tracked down the target or capture something that wasn’t already dead. Had they not had time constraints, she would have happily allowed the two to interrogate every redheaded person in a twenty mile radius but as it stood, she could not allow that.

“Lucia? Walt?” She called out as she followed the cobblestone path out from the city center, leading towards the outskirts where she surprised to find that her little buffoons had not wandered off to. It is fine. I'll do it on my own. She reassured herself, continuing further along the path in search of either initiate or her target.

Gaage Eberwhit
 
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Bullshit. No, more than that. Absolute horseshit.

"Listen, 'Greg'. I can't put you in any more fights. Nobody wants to throw hands with you anymore, kid. You're really hurtin' people."


This bozo penguin-looking motherfucker had been offering Gaage his only outlet for his anger in months for the last couple of weeks, and he was making some good money on top of that. Street fights were huge in this city; everybody and their mother put bets on a little fist-tossing in the hopes they'd get an extra pound of gold to haul home and burn. Gaage had been proving to be an excellent license to mint coin, and Gilram had stopped giving a shit about Eberwhit dissapearing on him every other day, as long as he showed up to missions.

"That's funny, I was pretty sure hurting people was the entire goddamned point. Should I have strapped some pillows to my fists?" The heated business conversation was for some reason being held in the ring itself; a drawn circle in the outskirts of town and a rope wrapped around the perimeter. Gaage stood in the circle shirtless, blood splattered on his bare chest, presumably from the poor bastard lying at his feet. He hadn't been told this was gonna be his retirement match. "You're right, Pailo. I'm sorry. Tell the next guy I'll tie my hands behind my back."

Pailo let out a 'hmph', which only made him look more rotund and red in the face. "There is no next guy. Even if they wanted to fight you, the city doesn't want you here. People are makin' too much money, and you're making too much noise. It's over."

The city, huh? Well at least they told him instead of trying to kill him like his last home. Gaage was getting used to the whole 'not being wanted' thing now. Stepping over the unconscious man at his feet, he drags a hand down his muscles to wipe the streaks of red from himself and does his damndest to resist the urge to push Pailo's face in.

"Fine. Fuck this city. I'm leaving."

Pailo let out a breath he'd been holding for the last ten minutes. Gaage grabbed his shirt off of the ground where he'd tossed it aside, and threw it over his shoulder as he turned to leave.

Before he saw something, or someone rather, that made him stop in his tracks. A blonde woman, emerging from a street leading from the middle of town wearing armor bearing a very familiar mark. And it all came crashing down on him again.

The fights... he really had been making too much noise. Somebody must have seen him, recognized him, reported him...

"Oh, shit..."
 
Pardon me,Ysobel had stopped a few locals as she patrolled the area. She questioned them briefly looking for anything that could aid her in her search for the target. For the most part, their answers had been less than helpful. They had seen many redheads in Ithlond, just as she had. Tall ones, too. ‘Least they were tall compared to her, they’d laugh at the woman. Her volatility had never truly subsided as she aged, which was made abundantly clear as she gripped the elbow of one of the men to deliver an unpleasant, but not debilitating shock through his body until the pair gave her a new trail to follow.

Check the pit.” He finally cooperated. A fighting pit? Would have been something nice to mention in her instructions from the Academy rather than having her run around blindly in search of one nameless, faceless person she couldn’t give a shit about. She thanked them before getting back on the path towards this 'notorious' street fighting area.

Ithlond was pretty. Very pretty. Maybe it was just the light dusting of snow, but she would have never assumed that street fighting was so prosperous in a place like this. They had jewelry shops and clothing stores with windows and roofs instead of crumbling stalls and tents like some places she’d been sent to. Maybe the street fight money was just that good. Maybe...

She would stop a few more times to make sure she was on the right path before the tight streets finally opened into a clearing with not much more than a rope to create what she could only assume was this ‘pit’ she was informed of.

Excuse me!” She called out to the man in the ring as she took a step forward. “Can I ask you-” He recognized her first. The edges of her vision darkened as she stared at him, freezing in place as she remembered him. He looked different. Not unrecognizable. Just…different.

He’s gone…


Meredith’s words echoed in Ysobel’s head as the color drained from her face and the sky darkened.

He’s dead… She believed he was dead. What other explanation was there for his disappearance amongst his slaughtered classmates other than that he died with them? There was no other explanation. Nothing could justify betraying the people who took him in and raised him. The people who molded him into his best self.

Gaage…?” Her voice was soft as she took another step forward. Dead or alive, her instructions said.

He should be dead.

She couldn’t bring herself to make eye contact with him. “I...thought you were dead…” The crackling sound of tiny arcs of lightning made themselves known- flowing around the one hand of hers that was gloved until they formed a large spear. “You should be dead.” She did not give the traitor a chance to defend himself before she would aim, shut her eyes tightly, and throw the spear towards the two men in the pit.
 
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Of all the people to find him, of all the ones who could be sent to drag him back to Vel Anir... Why did they have to send her? It was like some kind of sick joke that they'd have one of the few Initiates he'd built up a comradery with, one of the few Initiates he cared about come after him now. Of course, knowing the City that could have been entirely intentional.

When that initial burst of shock had passed, Gaage slowly began to take steps back, eyes trained on her own, watching him, but not seeing him; He couldn't imagine what she was feeling, seeing him again after all this time, with all of the... emotions... that she'd displayed in the past. He'd been rather oblivious to her presence back then, but with time to think, he'd realized a few things about the hotheaded blonde.

Surely they told her who she was here for, right? They wouldn't be that callous...

"Ysobel...?"

Her name left as more of a question than a statement. She'd sprouted since he'd last seen her, grown up a lot over just a few months. It was her though, he recognized the lightning in those eyes. It was the unbridled pain in her voice that made him wince, though...

“I...thought you were dead…”

Of course. Why would they tell her? God forbid any of them know the entire truth. Eberwhit felt himself cringing at the implications. The posture that had been so cocksure and arrogant when dressing down Palio now was slack of shoulder and hunched of back. Palio just seemed confused by the whole situation.

A bit firmer in tone Gaage tried to speak.

"Yoh, I'm sorr--"

He didn't have time to finish the sentence before her spear was sailing at his head. Gaage had been ready for that, and rolled left out of the pit as it flew over his head and narrowly missed Pailo, who promptly took off screaming as the spear embedded itself in a wall inches from his path.

Still on one knee, Eberwhit looked up at Ysobel, hands raising in either an attempt at submission or preparation for an attack.

"Yoh, listen to me! I don't want to fight you!"
 
As the spear collided with the wall, a sharp cracking noise would echo throughout the village. Her initiates had never witnessed Ysobel in action, though they were well aware of what her scope of magic encompassed. Surely they’d already witnessed the sky as it was suddenly plagued by dark clouds on what was previously an unremarkable day. It would not be long before the pair left their leisurely window shopping trip in search of their leader.

Yoh…

A name she hadn’t hurt in ages. Hearing him say it felt like the wind being knocked out of her. The feelings she’d buried in the pages of diaries long gone had come back, hitting her all at once and caused her to…

I don’t want to fight you!

Miss.

She exhaled sharply as her eyes opened to view the kneeling man. He could see her chest rising and falling as she took deep breaths to calm herself, though it was to no avail. Her heart only beat faster as she took in all the familiar features that had been etched into her memory.

Ysobel fought against the stray tear that fell from her eye. She had suppressed her emotions for months and in only a few seconds, she was drowning in them again. Only now the sadness she harbored was absent.

She was angry.

The Academy knew what they were doing. No one had told her anything about her target. Dozens of dreadlords and initiates to choose from, and they chose the one that had been her most cherished partner to work with.

And Gaage…

He never even said goodbye.

He was a traitor. To the Dreadlords. To their friendship.

He was the enemy.

Dead or alive?” Her tone was eerily calm as she spoke to him. “I’ve been given orders, Gaage. Dead or alive? I am not asking you to fight me. I am asking you to make a choice."
 
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Unlike anybody else in this city, Gaage was all too aware of what Ysobel was capable of, and he didn't want to be on the wrong end of it. Honestly, as little as he'd been training himself lately, he wouldn't be shocked if she could wipe him out handily.

But he'd already wounded her greatly on the inside, that much was clear from the strained tears escaping to her cheeks as she glared down at him, a torrential downpour of emotion behind every word she spoke. It was enough to make Gaage feel a strange tug at his own heart, his face wincing at her obvious pain.

He'd never met to hurt Yoh. Sure, he didn't always get along with her but... fuck, he had a hell of a soft spot for her, and realizing what he did now-- that it ran so much deeper for her...

Slowly, his hands raising in what looked to be surrender, Gaage rose to his feet. His eyes never left hers for a moment. "And I'm not going to make you fight me either, Yoh..." He spoke quietly, as though somehow it would help at all. "Let's... can we talk?" Eberwhit walked closer to her, careful not to make any sign of aggresion. Yes, it wouldn't have been much trouble to use his magic to render her unable long enough to get away, but in this case, he didn't want to.

She deserved to hear the truth from his mouth.

"Please, Yoh. I'll tell you everything."
 
Hatred brewed in her eyes as she awaited the redhead’s response. He had two options: die at her hands or be executed for his crimes back in Vel Anir with any other traitor they had tracked down. She didn’t care which one he picked, but still she would allow him to believe he chose his own fate. Perhaps it would comfort him for the time being.

Not that she was trying to bring him comfort. Caring was not part of her job.

As Gaage began to rise and move closer, Ysobel stepped back, her hands crackling instinctively as she prepared for the fight that was not coming. She had never known Gaage to surrender to anything. Certainly not a fight. He was the only person who’d ever held a candle to her in stubbornness- a thought that, for just a moment, made her almost miss it.

Can we talk?

Talk?” She stopped moving and scanned his face. Something about him looked so …defeated. But like his sudden surrender, Ysobel couldn’t be sure it was genuine. She glanced around for any familiar faces as it became clear that her initiates were nowhere near. Passing thoughts of everything being a setup crossed her mind and she reached forward to grab onto his arm, delivering an unintentional light shock as she dug her nails in.

Not here.” She would lead them in the direction of the inn she was staying in, but her painful grip remained. “One fucking move from you or Delaney and I will stop your heart, Gaage.” Her voice was a whisper as she tried her best not to draw attention to the pair.

Little more was said by her during their short trip back to the inn, where she would eventually lead him to a room upstairs and lock the door behind them. He was instructed to take a seat at the wooden table while she removed her armor and joined him with one of her journals and a pen to take notes.

You may speak now. I would suggest starting with why you’re alive. Or maybe how would be better phrasing. Or why you betrayed all of us. Or how you were stupid enough to get caught? I mean really, Gaage, fighting? Did you really think with you wouldn’t get caught?
 
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The way she so casually dropped her name made Gaage feel as though the spear she'd just hurled at him a minute ago hadn't missed at all. Of course, she didn't know, but...the wince of pain on his face at the mention of his now ex-girlfriend would be enough to speak volumes. Rather than speak on it now, Gaage did his best to swallow that stab to the gut and follow as closely as Ysobel would allow.

It was a quiet, painful trip. Not physically, but mentally. The silence that hung over the air between them as they moved through the streets as fast as they were capable of without looking overtly suspicious to the common passerby who might have questioned what seemed a military woman leading a shirtless, bloodied man into an inn.

Not too long ago, Gaage wouldn't have been able to shut her up on a walk like this. She'd probably want to feed him a bunch of random garbage too, just because he hadn't tried it before.

He'd managed to fuck all of that up.

Keeping his head down as she ushered him into the inn she was staying at, he tried his best to avoid any eye contact from the other patrons as she practically dragged him upstairs into the medium sized room she'd evidently been staying in. He was already going to be in the shit for this, no point in making it worse by causing a scene that could get word back to Gilram.

Then he'd really be in trouble. Not just him, but the people he'd made promises to...

It felt... awkward, to say the least, having to sit there and watch while she stripped off her armor. Why wouldn't she keep that on? Wasn't she worried he would lash out and attack her? Gods, she was still as reckless as when he'd left.

When he'd left... Her request for information brought a sigh to his lips.

"I'm alive because I made promises to people I shouldn't have." For all the times Gaage was an asshole, a narcissist, an egotistical prick, he didn't go back on promises. "I told Delaney I'd stay by her side, and I did. Then she left me anyways. Couldn't just walk back after that, could I? Like you said, I'm a dirty traitor. Maybe I made so much noise because I wanted to get caught, hoping somebody would put me out of my misery."
 
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It was a lie to say she did not notice him watch as she removed the armor, leaving her in a simple navy blue tunic and pants. The reasoning for his gaze was a mystery to her. Maybe she’d gotten blood on her clothes while she corralled the former dreadlord back to the inn. Or maybe he had noticed how stiff she looked now that they were alone.

She wasn’t afraid of him, no. There was just a tenseness about her that couldn’t be removed like her armor could. Stupidly, she still had some trust in Gaage, despite his betrayal and would let her guard down. He wouldn’t hurt her. She was sure. Mostly.

She avoided eye contact after her outpouring of questions, instead focusing her attention on the journal she held close. The page started innocently enough. Notes here and there about how she’d found him, what he was doing in the city, and his initial response to her questions. Quickly, however, it would trail off into something reminiscent of the pages preceding it.

She looked up from the pages to study him as she wrote, but still avoided looking directly into his eyes. While he looked miserable, his exile had done wonders on his body. He had certainly never been out of shape, but the fighting (Ysobel presumed) had refined the slender boy. Though admittedly, she had never seen him without a shirt, she was surprised at how muscular he had become. Had Ysobel not been so angry with him, the sight of his toned body would have had her staring.

Wait no. She was staring.

I should have let him put his shirt on. She noted before speaking again, catching only the last bit of his speech.

Her grip on the pen tightened, her knuckles turning white. “You could have come back at any time, Gaage. Sure, you wouldn’t have been welcomed back with open arms by everyone…but if all you’ve been doing is fighting for money, they’re not gonna hang you for that. Most they’re gonna do is put you in jail for a while and interrogate you. Same as I’m doing.” Finally, she looked at his face. His beautifully chiseled face (as she described in her journal).

You’d be lying if you said that.” She flipped to the next page. “If you wanted to be put down like a dog, you would have fought back. I gave you two options.” She stood again, releasing the breath she’d been holding onto for far too long, though her body remained rigid. With the book in hand, she stepped in front of him.

It was damn near impossible for Ysobel to hide her emotions. Fuck wearing them on your sleeve when the entire sky made it apparent you were in a bad mood. Heavy rain replaced the light snow, striking the glass window just beside the table. The hand with the fractal pattern of scarring made its way to his jaw before inching down to his chest, where it would rest just over his heart. “Are you changing your decision?
 
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Gaage'd had a lot of time to think about Ysobel. About how he'd treated her in the past, and about how she'd acted towards him ever since they'd come back from that first mission together. Before Graduation, he'd never had time to think about the feelings of others. He was a hot-headed teenager who's knowledge of the heart ended at having a quick fuck between classes or sneaking a girl into his room at night.

Looking back... He felt like the biggest idiot alive not realizing what he did now.

Gaage could only watch her as she seemed to struggle with something in her own mind. She breathed just enough to keep from passing out, jotted down random notes that didn't seem to correspond to the things he was saying. The weather outside was raging now, and Eberwhit actually felt himself smirk at the telltale sign of her emotions.

As she moved towards him, he lets out a chuckle at the idea he didn't want to be put down.

"You're wrong. When she disappeared, and I woke up all alone with a group of people I didn't know or share beliefs with... I did want to die. I wanted to vanish forever, Yoh."

Ysobel leaned over and placed her hand on his jaw, and Gaage slid his eyes shut, giving a quiet sigh as he felt her fingers glide slowly down his neck and collarbone to rest gently on his chest. She could have ended him, just like this.

She had every right to.

"I'm sorry I didn't take you seriously, Yoh. I was too dense to realize... how strongly you feel about me."

One of his own hands rose to rest over the one flattened against his chest. He could almost feel the thrum of her energy as it ran through her, ready to release at a moment's notice. Gaage opened his eyes again to look up at her.

It wasn't the look of a criminal who'd been caught that met her gaze. It was a man, tired and sick of living with himself.

"I left without even thinking about it. I didn't tell you I was alive, or send you any letters, or even do you the decency to make sure you knew what happened that day."

He felt his grip tighten a bit.

"Would you really even want me back?"
 
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She watched his face as he spoke, his expression matching the pain in his voice. Though she could not imagine what he was feeling, something in her wanted to sympathize with him. She wanted to tell him he was going to be okay. That she’d be here for him. Even now, after he betrayed them all, she didn’t want him to suffer.

It should have been embarrassing. Any other dreadlord would have completed the job by now, but here Ysobel was making poor decision after poor decision like always.

Certainly this was all a test from the Academy to see if she could actually put her emotions aside, which she couldn’t, and at this point, she didn’t care if she was going to be punished. She wasn’t going to kill him. She couldn’t even hurt him. It was their own fault for sending her, so fuck it. If Gaage was smart, he’d see this and take the opportunity to run far, far away.

I was too dense to realize…how strongly you felt about me.

Something clicked in Ysobel’s head. He was right- she did have strong feelings. But they were feelings she hadn’t been able to come to terms with. It was nothing like what she felt during the brief relationship she had with Larkin. There was no spark (metaphorically speaking) with Larkin. From the moment he opened his mouth on their first mission together, Ysobel was head over heels for him.

I thought you were dead, Gaage. They told me you were gone.” Her voice was barely a whisper- almost inaudible over the rain hitting the glass. She sighed heavily as his hand covered hers, her body relaxing at his touch and her pulse beginning to race.

Would you really even want me back?

Ysobel leaned in, wrapping her free arm around his shoulder and resting her forehead on his.

I never wanted you to leave.” She admitted, quietly. What she wouldn’t tell him is that her reasoning back then wasn’t entirely accurate. The man who greeted her with ‘Sup, moron?’ after nearly dying wasn’t someone she could allow to leave her life.

She hovered there for a moment- staring into his eyes before, against her better judgment, pressing her lips into his.
 
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There were so many different emotions balled up inside of Eberwhit that he wasn't even sure how he felt anymore. Things had been so easy before. It was always 'Just do what they tell you to do. Kill who they tell you to kill.'... It was such a simple way of living, and for a while there, especially once Delaney had come along, it wasn't a bad life at all.

Now... things were different. What happened in those woods had shaken him. Him, of all people, who saw nothing wrong in killing without thought, had been hesitant to raise his fists.

Eberwhit had been forced to make a choice, to either stick with the Academy or run away with somebody he'd barely known anything about. As crazy at sounded, Gaage knew that any other day he'd have picked Vel Anir.

Not because he liked them, or because he felt some sort of loyalty to the Academy, fuck no. He'd have picked them because at least there he had a home. He had a job he was good at, some people who didn't hate him, too. Ysobel chief among them.

She'd left anyways, leaving him behind without even a goodbye, and the only reason Gaage had for his choice went with her. Now the one he'd hurt most of all with his mistake was looking into his eyes, trying to understand why.

She leaned in closer, wrapping an arm around her neck and placing her forehead against his. Gaage released the breath he'd been holding, and it fell hot against her face as she assured him quietly. Eberwhit had never seen Ysobel as anything other than an overzealous child, a younger woman who was, while a sweetheart, too eager and too emotional for her own good.

The person now staring into his eyes as she began to bring her face close to his was no child. He saw her for what she was now: A woman. One that he hadn't realized how deeply he cared for.

Her lips pressed softly against his, and his body stiffened, lungs drawing in a sharp breath. For a moment, he wasn't sure exactly how to react. All of the pent-up anger with himself flared in an instant, threatening to burst at the seams.

Then he exhaled, a soft groan against Ysobel's kiss as he sank into it, leaning forward to press back against her, one of his hands moving to the side of her face to stroke her cheek as he lost himself in the moment.
 
She thought about pulling away as his body stiffened. His hesitation did not go unnoticed. Though only lasting a moment, she worried if she had done something wrong. Hell. Everything she was doing was wrong, but she couldn't stop herself now. She had waited too damn long and spent too many hours crying over Gaage. Ysobel didn't want to lose him again.

She never considered that although she felt very strongly for him, he didn't have to feel the same way for her. She should have stopped and apologized before continuing on in her interrogation or...whatever it was she was doing. But, just as Ysobel had began to retract herself and alleviate the situation, he kissed her back. Her golden eyes, wide with surprise, met his as his hand rested on her face. Her own hand, which had previously been a threat to his life, was now wandering dangerously.

Gods, that groan had brought out something absolutely feral in the blonde girl.
 
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He'd never thought of her like this, as somebody who could bring his chest to the pounding thrum it had risen too. Gaage'd had his heart so caught up in who he believed he belonged with that he devoted everything to them, not realizing the danger that came along with that. Nothing else had mattered.

As Ysobel melted into his kiss, her hand drawing shapes slowly down his abdomen, he found it frightening, the prospect of caring about somebody in that capacity, even as she sent shockwaves through his skin and lips with her affection. Even so, he wanted this.

He wanted this badly.

In Ysobel, he had a reason to keep fighting-- an excuse to keep living and working towards the next day. It was something he found himself desperately lost without. As much as he adored the thrill of a fight, it just wasn't the same if it was for nothing.

So he'd fight for her.

His lips parted against hers, his voice a breathy, trembling plea against her tongue.

"Ysobel..."
 
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Nothing would ever be the same.

For hours the thunderstorms ravaged the skies, flooding the streets as its clapping echoed through the now-night. The wind howled, harmonizing with the torrents of rain as they pounded against the walls just beyond her room. But almost as suddenly as it came on, the storm ceased to naught more than a trickle and the mist that shrouded Ithlond was no more.

A gentle sigh would alert Gaage of the blonde who lay in the crook of his arm with one of her own over his chest. She gazed at the window, absently watching the water droplets as they moved downward to combine with others and race each other. Her mind was preoccupied with everything that had just happened- one comment standing out particularly against the rest:

Anir be damned, I do love you.

She hadn’t realized she said she loved him out loud, and now that the high was wearing down a bittersweet taste was left in its stead. She loved him.

She really loved him. And he loved her back.

A door could be heard opening and closing nearby. Her initiates had finally arrived after waiting out the storm. A cruel reminder of what she was here for. A task she now feared she could no longer carry out. “Gaage?” There was a long pause. Her voice was as weak as her body felt. If she loved him, she couldn’t bring him back to Vel Anir. She could lie- say he got away. She lost a fight against him. He escaped. That certainly explained the broken handcuffs. She would do anything to ensure he would remain unscathed. Even if it meant her taking the blame. He was worth any punishment they gave her for her failure.

But she couldn’t bear to lose him again.
 
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Gaage traced the patterns of lines on the ceiling above the bed he shared with the woman who'd only a short while earlier been his captor, crimson eyes trailing along the marks of age in the wooden boards, counting them like the seconds as they ticked by. How long did he have left here, with her pressed up against him like this? Minutes, maybe.

He would have done anything to make this his normal. No more fighting his friends, no more hating himself for shit he couldn't control. Just... whatever this fluttering in his heart was, the tingle that shot through his body every time her fingers trailed through the short hair of his chest, breath hot against his skin. For just a few hours, the world outside this room hadn't mattered a damned bit, and everything was okay.

It wasn't reality. People needed them both outside these walls.

She called his name meekly, and Gaage turned his head to gently place his lips on her forehead. Her little entourage would be here soon, and they couldn't very well find her literally in bed with the enemy, could they? It would ruin everything she'd worked for. Eberwhit couldn't do that to her. Not after what he'd already done.

"I know."

A light smile pressed to her temple as he heard the distant sound of a door elsewhere in the building. She had to go be a soldier soon, and Gaage had to be an exile. It wasn't fair, but she'd given him something he'd needed more than anything else in a sea of misery: An anchor.

"I suppose you'd better get dressed, unless you'd rather me answer the door..."
 
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And even after everything they had just shown one another, Ysobel’s skin still flushed a bright pink as soon as his lips were pressed against her forehead. She turned to bury her face in his chest, her arm pulling him in closer when he made his suggestions.

“No.” Her response was short and final.

The door was locked and her initiates were, bless their souls, incredibly incompetent. Considering they hadn’t been in the building for the past few hours, it was unlikely they’d even attempt to bother Ysobel. As long as they remained as they were, quietly entwined in each other’s arms, all was well.

Even if they did disturb their newly arrived neighbors, she was confident they’d be more inclined to ask Gaage if he had seen a red haired man causing trouble in Ithlond rather than connect the very obvious dots.

“I’m not getting dressed and you’re not going anywhere.” She added, rolling over onto her stomach to face him. Her hand moved up to rest on his face. “It’s late. We should get some rest before…” She fought the melancholic smile. It was apparent to both that their time together was limited and nearing its end, but she prayed it would not be the last time they spent with one another.

She would not allow for that ending. “Promise you’ll write to me? I know you’ll be busy and there's no guarantee I won’t be on a mission, but there must be a way we can see each other for more than just one night- and without other initiates looming around, right?”

Ysobel didn’t really wait for an answer before flopping back over into her previous position. It was more of a demand, anyway. As she shut her eyes, she would sleepily ask what would likely be the only question she should have written down during this interrogation, “What is a Gilram?”
 
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“I’m not getting dressed and you’re not going anywhere.”

Well, she sure as hell was finding her way to his heart easily enough. Gaage looked down at the woman as she rolled to lay partially atop him, eyes practically glowing as they stared up at him. If it were up to him, they'd both leave this Dreadlord bullshit behind. Eberwhit was so bored of the constant bickering, the needless drama between two sides that really weren't any higher in moral standing than the other.

It was a pissing contest on a massive scale, and Gaage hated they'd dragged his Yoh into it.

The tinge of sadness in her voice when she talked about tomorrow wasn't missed, and it was mirrored slightly with the twitch of his lips. "Rest... Yeah, I suppose I can catch a nap and give you a break." He teased, running a hand slowly through her blonde locks and trailing his fingers down the top of her back with a feather light touch. "You better not think I'm done with you just yet though." His voice lowered to a purr as she rolled back over to nestle into him again.

Yeah, there would come a time tomorrow when they'd have to part ways. It would hurt, and he wasn't looking forward to it.

Lazily his eyes dragged over her body as she began to doze, muttered questions and pleas for assurance tumbling from her mouth as she began to shut down, still pressed against his body. Eberwhit brought his other arm around to hold her close, closing his own eyes and taking in a deep breath. "You're stuck with me now, I'm going to do whatever I need to do."

He wasn't letting another one get away.

Gaage never did answer her final question, but as they drifted off together, he reasurred her of one thing with his last conscious breaths.

"Don't worry about tomorrow Yoh. That's hours from now, and it'll just start a new countdown until we meet again..."




For the first time in months, Gaage slept peacefully, free of invisible horrors that plagued his mind in the throes of night. His crimson eyes opened to the sight of Ysobel right where he'd left her, pressed snugly to his side and sleeping peacefully, her bare chest rising and falling slowly with her breath.

A smile came to his lips at the picture before him. This crazy girl would throw her entire life away for him if he asked her too. How anybody could be that crazy about a prick like him was beyond his comprehension, but gods if he didn't love her for it.

Rolling onto his side, Gaage brings his lips to hers, kissing her softly as she sleeps, his hands sliding from their spot holding her to explore her skin, gentle caresses and teasing touches rousing her slowly and playfully from her sleep.
 
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His quiet vows were enough to bring Ysobel to a sleep that was as peaceful as the newly cleared skies. Even in her slumber, her mouth curled upwards into a soft smile as they held onto one another. And for the first time, she felt safe. Safe and wanted; of course it had to be in the warm embrace of the enemy.

Ysobel talked in her sleep. Mostly mumbling and an occasional quote from one of her diary pages. Nothing too unhinged, but there may have been a “Gaage” or two muttered at some point. Maybe because all of this felt like a dream. As embarrassing as it was to admit, he was her dream. A very good dream, but unreal all the same.

Morning arrived too soon and Ysobel, still exhausted from the previous night’s activity, refused to open her eyes right away. She could still feel him there, but if she was being honest she worried when she did open her eyes she would see that it was only her imagination.

That was, until something pressed against her lips and she felt her heart melt.

He didn’t leave.

She let him explore for a little while before her eyes eventually fluttered open and she kissed him back harder. That same mischievous look she held onto last night seemed to reappear as her own hand trailed from his chest…

“Good morning to you, too.” Her breathy voice was broken up through the kisses they shared.
 
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As fun and cathartic as their little reunion tour around the small little bedroom was, there of course came a time when it had to end. One another's arms were a heavenly distraction, but they were also just that-- a distraction. Outside the door, they were supposed to be on opposite sides of the field. Two ships, whatever the hell that was supposed to mean.

Gaage sat at the edge of the bed, watching Ysobel as she dressed herself. Now more than ever before, he found himself wondering what the fuck any of this fighting was for. Did either of them really give a shit about the people in power above them? Gaage sure as hell didn't give a shit about Gilram or The Republic. All he'd ever wanted was to be happy, to be free, to have people accept him. Neither of the two sides really gave a shit about him, even if they pretended to.

Still, there were people he'd left behind in his pursuit for his own happiness. Zael, Everleigh, and especially Ysobel herself.

Yoh finished pulling on her other boot, and Gaage stood up, tying his long red hair back behind his head again, his bloodied shirt hanging loosely on his bare chest. It didn't look nearly as bad as it had last night; he'd gotten up and tossed it in some cold water to soak while the pair of them were preoccupied.

There were voices outside the door. Not right outside, but in the hallway. Gaage's face couldn't fight the somber expression that rested on it as he looked back towards the blonde woman who'd dragged him in here, as he realized he couldn't just walk out of here with her like he wanted to.

"Hey... Yoh?"
 
Her energy seemed to match his as their fling was nearing its inevitable end. She faced away from him as she dressed herself. A tear or two running down her cheek served only to remind her that even after fighting herself for so long, she still harbored feelings for him. After the betrayal, abandonment, whatever it was he claimed to have done she still absolutely adored him.

But it was, as they both probably knew, all in vain. The moment her last piece of armor was secured, they would return to their respective lives and this chapter, an interlude, would be lost in history. It was better that way. To forgive and forget. Leave their feelings in this tiny inn. For that, Ysobel was sure.

She hated that she felt it was best for the both of them, disappearing from each other’s lives for good like he’d done to her, but she reasoned that it was better for him this way. He could be safe, get far away from those who hunted him.

Her hand snuck up to her face to wipe away the stray tears before tying up her boots. With a sigh, she began to walk towards the voices in the hall which beckoned her. There was nothing left to say to one another. It was for the best that she left without a final word and let things die.

Hey… Yoh?

She froze in place, her hand resting on the door handle. “Did I forget something?” She asked, still refusing to face him. She couldn't accept letting the sadness that had returned to her eyes be the last thing Gaage see before they go their separate ways.

Gaage Eberwhit
 
Gaage thought his chest had fallen, but Ysobel refused even to look him in the eyes as she dressed and readied to return to whatever awaited her outside that door. A pang of guilt hit his chest as he realized that she must have thought him so shallow that this was all they would ever be. One night. One fling. One night of passion before they returned to opposite ends of the battlefield.

Fuck that. Maybe she forgot who he was, but he didn't play by such bullshit rules.

As she rested her hand on the doorknob to leave, Gaage reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Yeah, just one thing..." he muttered, but actually, they'd both let something fall through the cracks. Pulling on her shoulder to turn her around, Eberwhit pressed up against her, her back falling against the closed door as his lips found her one more time.

It wasn't the lustful kiss that had met her again and again over the last few hours. It was gentle, light against her face as he brought another hand to rest on the side of her face. Maybe Ysobel thought nothing had changed between them. That Gaage could go on the same as he'd been before this reunion.

She was wrong.

"I love you." He whispered again as his face pulled away from her own, forehead tilting forward to rest against hers as his eyes slid shut. "And... you're gonna see me again, alright? I want this to continue. I want to keep being with you..." Finally, Eberwhit had found something in his life that made sense. Something that wasn't riddled with cloak and dagger bullshit or tainted with hidden agendas.

The hand trailing down her cheek moved to take her hand, and he squeezed it tightly.

"When I call, will you come to me?"
 
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“Hm?” Truthfully, she hadn’t heard what he muttered under his breath and she began to turn before he placed a firm hand on her shoulder to finish the task. And in only a few seconds and a thud from the old door, he had her pinned against it with his lips against hers once more.

I love you.

Ysobel froze, staring at him completely dumbfounded. So she hadn’t imagined those words the night prior. Those words she longed to hear for what felt like an eternity graced her ears and she could no longer hold back the tears she’d been in battle with.

For months, she’d filled blank pages with her feelings about Gaage. Her infatuation. Her love for him. Her grief. Her hatred. She’d spent more time speaking to the walls of her room than her friends and classmates. Sitting on her windowsill, telling the stars all about him. Wishing on them that one day she would see him again. Even if only in a dream would she be able to confess her feelings for the redhead.

She never expected those words to be returned to her.

“I… I…” She stammered, her lip trembling as she attempted a response.

“I love you too, Gaage.” It took a good minute or two, but she finally managed to form a coherent sentence. “How?” She questioned the second half of his declaration. “I can’t bring you back with me. I don’t even know what they would do to you but I can't let them take you.” Her blabbering trailed off as the gentle squeeze of her hand grounded her.

Ysobel? You in there?

She flinched as the grating voices of her initiates grew closer.

When I call, will you come to me?

She nodded before his words had even fully processed- before she could even ask him how he could call for her or when. Her hand was pulled away as pounding began on the door. More shouting for her by Thing One and Thing Two. “Whenever you call for me, I will be there. But for now, we must part. Please…” She pulled him close, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist and placing her head on his chest.

“Please, don’t keep me waiting long."

Gaage Eberwhit