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Celebrations.
A gathering or party amidst the war and blight was a rare occasion indeed.
Something the citizens of the Hideaway seldom, if ever, got to experience in any sort of grandeur. Rather these past few years following the destruction that lay in Kupka's vile wake, had been some of their darkest. So many lives senselessly slaughtered and the livelihood and home to so many had been lost forever crushed under Titan's merciless heels . Celebrating anything after that tragedy seemed painful. Smiles rare, laughter nearly non-existent and it was an endless struggle to even garner the strength to drag oneself out of bed most days when the thoughts of all that had been lost kept dragging your spirit into the abyss.
It had been nearly three years since that fateful night and the wounds (both physical and otherwise) had scabbed and long scarred over…but never forgotten. The dull phantom pains associated with them may have been soothed slightly by the passage of time but these were wounds that would forever linger in dark marks in their souls and skin. Any hopes of fully healing couldn't begin until Kupka was finally dead and buried.
Until then, the survivors of that fateful night, along with their new leader carrying the name of Cid, hadn't given up.
After the dust fell upon the rubble of the past Hideaway, those who survived that night slipped into the shadows to lick their wounds and regather their bearings. As many times as they had fallen, they kept picking themselves up - for what else was there to do or go than forward? An endless reach for a sun that remained forever out of their grasp. But such was life.
Those initial times were trying and tiring for them all. Signaling days, weeks and months that bled into years as they grasped for the light at the end of the tunnel. So much time spent hiding, toiling and fighting to find another suitable home where they could finally begin to lay their heads in some modicum of peace they knew far too little of in this hellish existence. And while it was far from perfect, this vessel located in the middle of a lake inside of downed ship hidden amongst the wreckage of a war fit all their needs. Like a gift from the heavens that fell from the sky, it was like a sign of hopefully better times to come.
The location also had a priceless feature - a perfect vantage point where they would not be taken by enemy surprise.
Never again.
New location found, the work had only begun. For years the small group had gathered materials and more members drawn to their cause. Carpenters, builders, mechanics, seamstresses, chefs, and even those who were more than willing to help were brought aboard the construction of their new home for a job yet decided to stay. The building a daunting task that Clive (now the new Cid) had poured more blood sweat and tears into making sure it was perfect for the wayward souls that joined his cause over the years.
It had been over three long years since that night that changed everything - and now, with one final nailed in board in its rightful place, the new Hideaway was finally complete.
And now, a cause of celebration of the highest caliber was in order to mark the occasion.
The drinks were overflowing and the food was bountiful. Clive had personally seen that no expense was spared after he'd sold off quite a fortune garnered from the rare parts of all the vicious monsters he'd slain over the years to fully finance it. A generous gesture from a man with a stoic countenance but with a fiercely beating heart of gold to make sure all the residents could fully enjoy themselves tonight without worry about the coffers suffering the burden.
And enjoy themselves they all did.
The overlapping laughter and stories emitting from all the celebrating residents were lively and more cheerful than they had been in so long that it was almost like hearing it for the first time. Merriment from all the chorus of voices that had nearly been silenced forever. A new hope, a new purpose when all seemed lost. The intoxicating relief of finally having a home to come to after being bereft and adrift in an endless sea of doubt was the spark of happiness they all so desperately needed to keep their cause alive and well.
Jill Warrick indeed found herself happier than she'd been in years.
A soft smile gathering its permanent residence upon her lips as she looked out on all the people she considered dear friends if not outright family at this point…
Then her eyes fell onto Clive.
Clive Rosfield was in rare form tonight indeed. The scowl he'd been famous for amongst the residents was taken over by a soft smile and ruddy cheeks as him and Gav got positively sloshed on drink. Even stoic Otto and Blackthorne had been all too quick to lay aside their piling work to indulge tonight. Gav, a permanent smile and infectious laugh on his lips, was deep into telling a rather riveting tale paired with grand hand gestures and Clive's eyes were akin to saucers as he listened in rapt attention.
Such a peculiarly sweet and boyish expression on his face that had her mind dredging up pleasant memories of the plays they'd go see with his uncle Byron as children. Oh, how enamored Clive was with tales and stage plays much like the stories of the feats of gods and adventures of brave heroes scattered throughout the pages of all the books he had in his room as a boy.
Clive hadn't changed at all…
Jill smiled into her chalice of wine as she watched the flickering of various expressions on Clive's face. The fireplace nearby scattering hints of orange and yellow light across the strong planes of his face and contrasting against his thick locks of black hair. Jill's face grew warm and she knew the flush of her cheeks was more than the influence of too much wine…
Tarja, who was sitting comfortably at her side, flashed her a knowing look when the Physick caught her staring at Clive a little too long. Internally she cursed her propensity to always search for him in any crowd and damn him for being so attractive he couldn't help but draw the eye astray…
"He looks rather fetching tonight, doesn't he?" Tarja mentioned lowly, her finger brushing along the rim of her goblet of wine.
Jill's face burned as she forced her eyes away from Clive for the dozenth time and stared down at her empty plate with a smudge of berry jam and sugar still lingering from her third slice of cake she eagerly consumed this evening. "Ahem. Um, who?" she asked flippantly, giving Tarja her full attention.
Tarja's thin brows rose and she sighed around a fond smile. "You know damn well who I mean, my lady. You've been staring at him all night - per usual."
Jill's cheeks felt aflame with Ifrit's roaring fire but she denied it regardless. "It's merely the fact I haven't seen him this relaxed in so long…probably since we were kids. It's nice to see him genuinely decompress once in awhile." At least that part was the truth. Clive seemed to have the weight of the entire realm of Valisthea on his shoulders - but tonight, the burden seemed lighter. It probably would be back tenfold when the sun rose tomorrow, but she'd enjoy it while she could.
The Physick's lips pursed but she seemingly let it drop when the somberness of the occasion itself hovered over them. "True. It has been a rather long three summers."
"Hmm, that it has." Jill let out a long-suffering sigh before admitting, "It feels almost wrong to feel happy right now."
"It's not." Tarja fiercely snuffed out any argument with a wave of her hand, "Believe me, if Cid was here right now, he would already be singing drunk ballads and trying to coerce Charon or even Otto into dancing with him." Tarja let out a throaty laugh that sounded slightly more broken than usual at the talk of their mutual late comrade - Jill didn't mention it. "He'd want all of us to be happy - if we weren't having fun tonight after this massive success, I assume he'd be rather insulted."
Jill chuckled lowly, "That he would."
A lull settled over their small table as they merely basked in the moment. The warmth of so many jubilant voices having overlapping conversations, clinking of stoneware while enjoying the feast, chalices full to the brim with wine or spirits and the beautiful sound of laughter drifting throughout the room was a hymn all in itself. Yet it only grew more exuberant when the sudden strings of the lyre followed by the melodic voice of the Bard broke through the hum of it all.
The excitement hit new highs as he began regaling one of his many songs to start the night. It wasn't long before couples began gathering together, men and women pairing off, joining hands and dancing along to the jaunty tune and soothing voice of their faithful Bard. The sober of the residents were much more coordinated than their drunk counterparts and all Jill could do was hide a smile behind her palm as both sets enjoyed it regardless of how they stumbled at times.
It was simply beautiful.
The light of the full moon and the red winking light of Metia shining down on them all; the crisp breeze and the scent of salty ocean air a further balm to their mending hearts as they danced along to its tune. The bard sang wonderfully as always; his melody and words poetic, showcasing the struggles of the past three years embedded in the verses. Illustrating with verses of a tale of utter heartache and ending with ultimate triumph as they had all come together to build this new home that Cid would definitely be proud of…
So lost in the reverie of past and present, Jill nearly missed the rather loud conversation Gav and Clive were having as they approached the table her and Tarja were the only occupants of.
"Yes, I am more than able! Do you truly doubt me?" Clive asked, looking rather deterred and slightly offended at how quickly Gav brushed him off.
Gav took another hearty drink of his ale before gesturing with the stein and spilling a few drops on the wooden floor while doing so, "Aye! Ya hardly seem the dancin' type. Yer rather stiff unless your swinging your sword around - there's no way on Greagor's Green Earth that ya can."
Clive's eyes suddenly were meeting hers, "Tell him, Jill! We grew up in the duchy. It was only proper we learn all the traditional etiquette - including dance. You must recall all of those recitals we were forced to attend."
Feeling rather tipsy and caught in a conversation she knew little of, not to mention, Clive's full attention on her, caused her to flounder a bit, "What? I'm sorry?"
"See! She doesn't believe ya either! I bet youse have two left feet!" Gav tried kicking said foot but missed entirely before shrugging it off and taking another drink.
Tarja rolled her eyes at the sword measuring men tended to do for every damn thing. Yet she couldn't stay out of it either. With her chin resting in her palm, she joined the conversation with a rather wicked smile on her lips. She let her eyes rove down the journey of Clive's shapely legs before stating, "Doesn't look like it to me. But maybe a demonstration is in order?"
"You're right." Clive stated suddenly as he non-too gently placed his goblet of ale on the table. Jill jumped at the sudden noise before she suddenly found Clive's gloved hand presented to her making her go cross-eyed. "Jill, will you dance with me?"
"...I'm sorry?" Jill squeaked.
"Aye! C'mon, ya don't wanna be crushing 'er delicate feet wit dem damn boots!" Gav said, plopping down on the empty chair that he nearly missed and almost tumbled to the floor onto his arse if Tarja hadn't caught him by his sleeve at the last moment.
"I doubt he would. Clive would rather cut off his toes than cause Jill to so much procure a parchment cut," Tarja said with an eyeroll as she took another sip of wine and flashed Jill a wink that the boys didn't catch only because both were positively inebriated. "Isn't that right, Clive?"
Clive nodded his head, "Yes. Of course. I promise, it'll be just like when we were kids. What do you say Jill?"
"I, uh…" she stated eloquently wondering if the sudden pounding of her heart and sweating palms was caused by the alcohol or the determined glint in Clive's midnight blue eyes.
As if he sobered instantly, Clive gently bowed much like they were taught at the duchy of Rosaria, his gloved hand steady as he presented it to her palm up. "May I have this dance, my lady?" his voice was liquid velvet in her ears.
How the hell could she ever say no to him?
Whether it be the music, laughter or simply the alcohol making her bold, Jill embraced it. "Yes you may, Lord Rosfield."
The beaming smile he sent her sent a flush of heat straight from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Jill confidently grabbed his hand and accepted his request with a royal courtesy of her own.
"My lady," Clive used his free hand to gesture her to follow him and Jill walked forward with her head high like she'd been taught with a pile of book atop her head so many years ago. She felt more royal right now surrounded by outlaws and bearers than she'd ever felt at the stifling duchy under Annabella's harsh gaze of impossible expectations and pure vitriol.
Jill bit back a smile hearing Tarja berating Gav's sudden drunken singing as her and Clive walked out to the further part of the balcony awash in the moonlight and away from the throngs of other couples clumsily dancing nearby.
Once they were near the guardrail, it was like they were in perfect sync.
So many afternoons and days being forced to repeat certain gestures over and over again paid off for it was like a day hadn't passed since. Chest to chest, their hands never parted, her left arm strewn across his shoulder as his right hand rested upon the small of her back causing a shiver of heat to suffuse into her spine.
Like so many years before, they began to move in perfect harmony.
It was easy, fluid, much like when they fought together now - a dance of a different sort but no less exhilarating… Well, perhaps considering when they battled enemies together, she never would be able to have the luxury of looking into his eyes. To count the thick fanning of black lashes kissing his ruddy cheeks. The way the light of the moon and Metia glistened in the dark midnight blue pools of his eyes…the way his thick lips parted and his pink tongue licked at his lower lip.
Jill suddenly looked away, cheeks flaming as she found herself staring at a loose thread on his shirt.
"Are you alright?" Clive's voice was soft, a slight tremble to his normal speech hidden rather well.
"I'm fine," Jill brushed it off, "I'm the one who should be asking you. You're the one who's drunk."
Clive shook his head in denial, "I'm hardly tipsy." he said even if she could smell the honeyed ale strong on his breath. At least it was a pleasant aroma rather than the toxic swill most of the other men tended to drink in excess.
Jill's brows raised in doubt but she humored him anyway, "What is this really about? I think you've already proven Gav wrong." Jill reminded him, gesturing gently to their abandoned table where Gav looked a rather bit green around the gills; the poor sod didn't know his limit as well as he believed he did. At least from this far away, Clive's boots were safe from harm.
Delaying an answer, Clive twirled her around a bit, their feet perfectly in sync. He stepped forward. She stepped back. Back. Forward, Right. Left. Repeat twice more before doing the same in the opposite direction. Repeat the steps once more it until they came to stand where they'd began and started the process all over again. The thick locks of her hair and Clive's billowing leather cape a hypnotizing dark shape fluttering in the slight breeze.
"Nothing really." he shrugged with a partial smile as he gently twirled them again, "Perhaps I merely desired to dance with you tonight," Clive stated before a look of horror crossed his face as if his mouth moved far too quickly for his inebriated brain to filter out.
Jill's cheeks burned regardless.
"I mean… I did," Clive admitted lowly after another turn as they both gave in to the nearly electric pull to step closer together. Their bodies constantly in sync even as the song the bard played slowed down, they easily matched the new rhythm.
"Well, I'm glad you did. This is fun. Much better than those dreadful balls we were forced to attend as children," Jill chuckled when Clive's deep voice joined her. The sheer happiness she was feeling along with the remaining alcohol in her system further loosened her tongue, "And… It's actually rather nice to see you this way, Clive."
Clive nearly misstepped at her admittance but he quickly remedied it before he did step on her toes, "What do you mean?"
Jill let out a breath, subconsciously stepping closer into his space. The dizziness from the sheer warmth of his body, the thrill and electricity filtering through her mind from where their chests pressed together. "Relaxed," Jill confided. "It's been so stressful for all of us, but especially you."
Clive's brows merely furrowed.
"You take on so many burdens that aren't even your own and even with all that weight dragging you down, you still move on. It's incredible, Clive…"
Their bodied continued this dance they'd known since childhood. An automatic pull and sway as they stepped to beat of the bard's song that continued its soothing drone. Only the sounds of their footsteps and their clothes catching the cooling breeze of the night air as they got lost in the moment and her confession sinking slowly into Clive's mind.
"It's not easy, I'll admit, but I have to," Clive finally spoke, not being able to hide his exhaustion behind the mask he stubbornly clung to like a second skin.
"No you don't," Jill gently reminded him, the hand resting on his back pulling him closer to her body until her head came to rest against his broad shoulder. A bold move she never even planned on and although Clive flinched for a moment, he gradually relaxed into her sudden hold and wrapped his arms around her as they gently swayed to the music. "You need to let us help more - allow me carry some of your heavier burdens, Clive. You don't have to shoulder this all alone…" she breathed the words into his neck. The heady scent of his skin had her cheeks burning as hot as Ifrit's flame and even she knew it couldn't be the intoxication from the wine. Rather, it was the feel and heady scent of Clive's skin…
"I know," Clive let out a sigh with the word ghosting through her loose locks of hair. Jill shivered at the feeling, her eyes heavily lidded as she turned her head to glance up at his face.
Clive smiled at her then. The constant stress and worry gone from the expression - for only a moment - and that was enough for Jill.
"And don't you forget it." she said, her nose brushing along his collarbone before she pulled back.
Clive chuckled thickly, "I wouldn't dream of it."
With a flourish, Jill pulled him back into the dance. The steps they had to memorize as they glided across the worn hardwood of the Hideaway so unlike the marble and thick granite flooring in the duchy of Rosaria. Two teenagers that could barely hold each other's gaze for a second before looking away now both in their 30's didn't have that problem. Two sets of blue eyes, one the color of ice like Shiva's Diamond dust, the other the color the azure of the night sky overhead wanted nothing more than to stay locked onto the other.
Their sudden audience, the words of the bard, catcalls, whistling and overall merriment continuing around them faded into mere background noise. Even surrounded by so many, it felt as if they were the only ones in the world - at least for as long as the next song lasted.
The moon and Metia watched on in silence as Jill and Clive continued their dance.
