call me out post

[queensland]

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[unabatedly]

"Even inaction is a choice," she said softly, looking past Ardyn to the statues for but a moment. "We could choose to see this war to its bitter, bloody end. We could waste time drawing up treaty after treaty. One of us could surrender." At that, her gaze flicked to him, sharp as a blade. But even that fell away, replaced with something akin to fatigue. She shook her head. "But we are here because we have chosen already. We have chosen to live - and to keep our people alive as long as possible. To that end...you are right. There is only one option."

They would force both sides to a standstill by uniting them beneath one banner. It would not be a delicate or peaceful transition but it would, at least, greatly limit the number of lives lost. They had a greater threat to address, after all.

Neria turned her gaze on Ardyn once more. In increments, the tension was fading. They were of like mind in this.

"Our people are relying on us to procure their safety and happiness. They have put their lives in our hands. This is the very least that we can do." It was a sacrifice, to be certain. They were giving up their kingdoms, their rights, their autonomy. They were giving up their own personal happiness for this.

Idly, she wondered if Ardyn had a lover back home, someone he had promised himself for. An arranged marriage or something more, someone he wished to wed. And here he was, giving everything away. For a fleeting moment, her expression was somber. Should she ask, or would it be too disrespectful? It was clear he made his choice.

"Let us see this done."

[daemonized]

His shoulders stiffened at the very mention of surrender, at those string of syllables that wrenched up a stubborn, instinctual defiance at the very idea. Her pointed gaze was met with the slightest upward tilt of a chin, without thinking; pride between the both of them, their nations at their backs, was not something so easily thrown away between royalty or figureheads. It was nigh ingrained within them at birth, and even when that not-quite-a-challenge fell away, it took a long exhale on his part to allow tension to ease out completely. A great tiredness filled the void it left, and he felt more worn than before.

Now was not the time for putting on airs, for the sake of pride. Standing here in traveling gear, facing Neria who looked as exhausted as he, it was obvious that they could allow that much to temporarily slip, never mind their words couched in formality and quiet consideration both.

“A sacrifice indeed. But it is a small sacrifice, given what will be gained.” A standstill that lead to unification. Two warring nations finally finding peace, and perhaps with time, even cooperation against the ailing disease that threatened to turn everything into a corpse of itself, if they did not act upon it quickly.

He hadn’t been caught in the net of an arranged marriage back in Lucis, though this was going to be as good as one, he thought to himself wryly. For the briefest moment, his mind wandered to rather domestic thoughts; would she remain with him in the Citadel? Who would be left to tend to matters within Tenebrae itself? Quite poignantly, he was aware of the expectations of a union to a Lucis King, most notably the last of his line. There would be pressures from all sides to produce heirs, and by the gods, what a thought, for this woman had been an enemy of his for so long—

Ardyn cast his gaze upwards at the nearby headless statue of a god, its wings outstretched. He set his jaw, then looked at Neria again.

“Then you may consider it done, if you’ll accept my decidedly unromantic marriage proposal as we speak?”

More of a business transaction than anything else.

[unabatedly]

A small sacrifice. The words hung heavily in the air between them. At length, Neria offered a single, grim nod. He was not wrong. She had told her people she would give anything to see the war end. They might despise her decision and feel she had given in too easily but in this she had a small victory: Ardyn, like Neria herself, was giving everything up too. That was a victory her people could savor. The King of Lucis would bend the knee to a single person as the embodiment of Tenebrae.

The compromise was that she would bend that knee to him as well.

Neria's gaze turned briefly to the windows of painted glass, where the beginning stretches of light marked their colors. The faint light danced along the floor at their feet, coating their boots - muddy from travel and wear - and the bottom hems of their clothes in different lights. Ardyn spoke and she felt the blood rush in her head, a momentary lapse of composure as fear leaped into her throat.

What if this was a trap? The moment she gave the word, what if--

No. She needed to trust Ardyn and give him the same respect he offered her in turn. If it was to be betrayal, then she would kill him where he stood. But as it was not, and he the only one to hear her acquiescence, then the answer was simple.

"I accept," she murmured, solemn in her grace. "Will you accept mine, Ardyn?"

A binding in word if not in paper documentation. From this moment on, everything would change between them.

[daemonized]

The moment hung still, and Ardyn thought it funny; how the history books would reflect this one, singular moment, this binding agreement between them. How the march of armies will shift and stutter and halt altogether, merely because the two of them — standing in the fractured light of colored glass — are here now, exchanging words and promises with each other in a crumbling, nigh forgotten cathedral.

Beyond that thought were also the jagged claws of caution cutting through the consideration. The similar inkling that ran through his own mind, debating just how to approach, which stance to take, which weapon would be better suited to defend himself, if this were a trap. Which route best suited to escape, if need be.

But her tone of voice, everything leading up to this point, made him believe that no such treachery would come to pass. In exhausted commiseration comes some laughable semblance of trust, and Ardyn indulged himself in it. He hoped against hope, and he knew she did, too.

“Yes, I accept.”

Three words, meaning so much. Hopefully they would not be futile ones.

“There will be a bevy of arrangements to be made, now.” An understatement if one was ever spoken; just the threat of thinking about it made his head spin, and so he merely kept his gaze focused on her face. “Let us draw up as many as we can in our minds while we’re here, else we shall be bombarded by needless bureaucracy when we return.”

[unabatedly]

Three words. Just like that, everything changed.

A breath left her, an exhale that might have been one of relief if she allowed herself to feel such a thing. For now, the promise for hope was weighted down by everything else: by the sacrifice they were both making, the responsibility to see this through, and the added complications they would now face from both sides. Reparations, compensation... Too much to hope to compromise in such a short amount of time. They would need to see two kingdoms divided become one without sacrificing their loyalties and identities. It was already giving her a headache.

But this was a first step in the right direction.

Neria reached into her belt, telegraphing her movements so he would see her pull the paper and pen from her belongings. She circled once, unsure of where to go, and them climbed up the few short steps to the altar where she began to hastily write in flowing script. For a few moments, her back was to him, a single concession. A measure of trust.

"Neither Lucis nor Tenebrae can afford to look weak. Both kingdoms will need our undivided attention as the days and weeks wear on, even after a ceasefire has been called." She would need to see to affairs in her kingdom and he in his until... Until some sort of better understanding was made between their people. That they were no longer two kingdoms but one, capable of unification and all the stronger for it. "We will need to decide on a single statement to present to the people on both sides to ensure the immediate halt to further fighting. The message should be identical, that no one should believe they are being unfairly treated. We can tell them we are entering into peace agreements and set up times to meet and continue to draft what we can..." Here, she trailed off, and turned back to Ardyn slowly. "Unless... Unless you wished to break the news more plainly and immediately and--" Her expression soured somewhat. "And deal with the outrage that will follow." Advisors who would be screaming. People who would call them traitors. She could imagine her parents turning over in their graves at the very notion of what they were proposing. What they had already done.

Leaning back against the altar somewhat, she sighed. "How do you want to proceed with this?"