RP:Do You Wanna Build an Emotional Roller Coaster?
Part of the The Key to Open the Skies Arc
Walled Courtyard
Passing through the impressive North Gate or standing upon the threshold of Frostmaw Fort, the courtyard sprawls out before you, securely fenced in by the mighty wall. High above upon the wall, soldiers march and sentries stand guard, ever watchful of Frostmaw city's borders and those that move throughout the fort. With the knowledge that sharped eyed archers oversee activity, one can move through the courtyard upon a stone-paved pathway, each piece handcarved with intricate, tribal designs beloved of Frostmawians. Bordering the path are grounds that should be nothing more than packed earth and snow, yet it appears to be a lawn of finely trimmed grass, of all things. How is such a thing growing in these harsh climes? Whatever the sorcery behind it, grass dominates this courtyard, a rare splash of color so far North, and dotted with statues of various famous warriors of lore. Lining the pathway are lengthy, tiered constructs of stone and ice: benches, you realize, cunningly wrought to provide seating for races of any height. Southward lies the gates to depart this area, well-guarded to prevent the ill-intentioned from fleeing. While northward looms Frostmaw Fort, a behemoth construct of stone, wood, and ice, riddled with battlements, towers, and a myriad of deadly defenses. As if the walls, mounted, giant crossbows, and guards were not daunting enough, to the east and west lie the courtyards of the Titan Sentinels, their earthen and frozen heads visible over the walls. The City of War seems to have earned its title.
Hildegarde had intended to enjoy the courtyard with Kenway, to enjoy reading a book and getting just a brief moment away from her duties; but they always had a knack for finding her. A young warrior had found her and asked for a private lesson, stating that he felt he wasn’t a very good fighter but he wanted to improve. The knight couldn’t find it in herself to refuse such a polite request, so she had set her book down – a typical story of a knight rescuing a town – on the ice and stone bench, while Kenway lazily watched the pair. The Silver had requested for only a shield, so that her opponent might practice his sword-strokes without fear of harming her. The clanging of metal upon meta resonated throughout the courtyard, yet few giants had stopped in their duties to watch the ensuing melee; as if they had seen either combatants fight time and time again and needn’t see it again. The boy had raised his sword up above his head to swing down, yet Hilde rammed her shield forward into his chest. “You leave yourself open doing that,” she chastised, turning her body to smack the shield into his side; her momentum providing power and force in the strike. He called for her to stop and so she did. “A sword is a good weapon, yes, but have you tried others?” she asked him, only to receive a shake of the head. “Try hatchets or axes. While considered the tool of a barbarian, they are fine weapons and they are good for being up close and personal. Try that next time, you might do better with that,” she said, dismissing him gently so he might tend to his bruises.
Satoshi, as has been her habit of late, watches the exchange between warriors from a passive position high upon the wall. Perched there with all the ease of a roosting falcon, the magus finds it a simple matter to oversee the daily on-goings of Frostmaw Fort without being directly involved or underfoot, watching but not interfering, in the manner of a shepherd with their flock. Although one would be a fool to call any Frostmawian a 'sheep', most especially the Silver Knight that Satoshi's focus has settled upon. Hildegarde has grown, in strength, spirit, and personality, since the stuttering, formal knight first introduced herself to Satoshi; the magus can't help but nod in approval as she watches the younger warrior accept the dragon's advice with an eager nod before he departs. The Hildegarde of before would not have had the confidence to do that. And yet, there are still rough edges to be polished out in the Silver's faith in herself. It is why Satoshi has taken to watching, from a quiet distance, while nudging small nuisances, troubles, and tests the knight's way. "One can hope the little trials of each day will further her growth," Satoshi comments, seemingly to nothing but the wind, were it not for the tiny ermine's head that pokes out of her coat to blink stoically in response.
Hildegarde waits for the boy to disappear from her sight entirely before plopping down onto the bench with a heavy sigh, easing the shield off of her arm with a small glance to Kenway. The shield is then placed down on the earth gently, the knight sitting for only a few moments as if to gather her thoughts; to collect herself and enjoy a little moment to herself. With a glance to the book, she feels as though her desire to read it has gone out the window, as if the brief spar had washed away any desire to sit and relax or to sit and read some unlikely story about a heroic knight. With another glance to Kenway, she grunts, “You’re getting fat.” The couatl raises his head and flicks his serpentine tongue out for a moment, ~You’re getting thin,~ he countered softly. Rather than take any offense, the knight smiled and leaned over to nudge her head against his scaly one. “What a pair we are. I need you to go scouting again, though. I know our hunting of exiles has become more ardent since the…” she wavers for but a moment, “since the war, but if we grow lax now, we might fall into trouble. Go scouting, Kenway,” she said more firmly, the last words obviously an order. “I will check in with the Queen’s army, see that they are continuing their training; then check in with the market stalls, see if any more guards have considered bullying our traders.”
Satoshi's ears give a twitch as the words drift on cold air to be heard, and as if Hildegarde's remarks were significant, the magus perks up then to look expectantly at her ermine companion. "See? She's perfectly fine. Daily operations are running smoothly. No issues. We've nothing to worry about." A matter-of-fact nod from the kit is answered with a deadpan stare from the ermine. Aeron does not need to speak for his expression to plainly say, 'You're an idiot.' It's a look that's enough to wither Satoshi's smug grin and cause her to peer down at Hildegarde once more, face clearly perplexed. First Emielle, now Aeron, hinting that Hildegarde carries scars from the war. Satoshi is stupid, she knows such things are common, she's heard of it enough times, but for the present-minded, remorseless magus, the concept is not easy to wrap her head around. And Hildegarde seems so... -normal-. The knight had always been such an honest creature that Satoshi finds it difficult to imagine her hiding her problems, which is proof enough the eidolon doesn't know the Silver nearly as well as she believes. A huff of frustration escapes Satoshi then. This dragon is a puzzling beast.
Hildegarde rose from the bench to watch as Kenway rose into the sky, curling gracefully upwards and to the west to scout the snowfields and inspect for any signs of exiles or to see how Frostmawian hunters were faring. The knight rubbed her chin for a moment as she watched Kenway fly upwards, waiting for him to disappear entirely before looking to Satoshi, perched as she was. “Silver dragons have the best hearing of all dragons,” she said, “and I have a good nose,” she added. “Are you going to come down or do I come up?” she asked, but her question did not offer an exit option.
Satoshi offers no verbal response, still and passive as a statue were it not for the writhing tails surrounding her. Externally, she's expressionless, while internally she's berating herself for not observing from a farther distance. It was only a matter of time before the knight caught on. A smug snort from Aeron only adds to Satoshi's vexation, prompting her to thrust out her hand with a flourish, conjuring a simple staircase of ice that extends from Hildegarde to the wall's top. It is all the answer the knight will get, this silent agreement and surrender.
Hildegarde doesn’t waste any time in staring at the staircase or noting how beautiful it might look, she simply climbs it to reach the Queen who has evaded her for so long. Standing at the top of the staircase, she glances to Satoshi’s side, considering sitting there but not wishing to crowd or make her uncomfortable. So she remains standing for now, at the top of the stairs. Rather than confront the Queen or demand where she has been, the knight speaks quietly; one dear friend to another: “Please, don’t shut me out.”
Satoshi regards Hildegarde with a lofted brow. "That's quaint, all things considered." There's a sliver of frigid venom in the comment, residue of Satoshi's frustation at being caught, and the hints of her own obliviousness at the Silver's emotional state. Aeron knows how best to get under the magus' skin, and that's by lording unshared knowledge over her. It's enough to let the venom seep into her words, only to be caught a heartbeat later as Satoshi rises to her feet and heaves a sigh. "I am shutting none out," despite her words, Satoshi says this as she turns her back to the knight, head tipped to speak over her shoulder, "I am taking a step back. A child does not learn to walk on its own, if the mother holds its hand the entire time. Frostmaw does not need its queen to stick her whiskers in every hint of trouble or question. It is in the care of fine stewards, I need only let them discover this for themselves."
Hildegarde is, perhaps, more stung by Satoshi physically turning her back upon her than she is by the venomous tone of voice; she has no halberd to grip nor does she wish to grip the pommel of her sword for that might be a threatening gesture. Instead, she keeps her hands still at her sides, glancing to the side for a moment as if the gesture would keep her feelings in check. Yet she holds her ground, neither moving forward nor retreating down the stairs; staring solemnly at Satoshi’s back. “Fine. You’re shutting yourself off from everyone else,” she said, as if to dance around the matter of shutting everyone else out. “What stewards?” she asks, “Svilfon is not here. He hasn’t been here for some time,” wizard business she assumed. The knight evidently didn’t quite consider herself a proper steward of Frostmaw, more a soldier just to take orders. With a soft sigh, she realises that arguing and fighting; that venom and contempt is no way to heal a wound or to bring someone back into the fold. With only good intentions, the knight places her hand gently on Satoshi’s shoulder – as she has done many times before – “Satoshi, I will be right here for you,” she said quietly; words meant only for her, “I always will be. We can go down these stairs together,” she started to smile just a little, obviously hopeful at the suggestion.
Satoshi shakes her head slowly. "You're hopeless." And yet there's no contempt or insult in her tone, nothing but affection for the knight's blind kindness. Satoshi is prone to her fits of rage and passion, her surplus of tails are testament to embracing Asorial's ways, but Hildegarde's presence is a tempering one. The knight quells the fires, coaxes reason, thought, and compassion. Perhaps it is part of why Satoshi has retreated from the world, yearning for the storms of old rather than the calm peace of the every day. Her head tips enough to look at the Silver's grip on her shoulder then, before she adds, "Frostmaw is in capable hands when I am away. Even if they don't seem to realize it." Carefully Satoshi turns as she speaks, the movement slow enough to let Hildegarde's hand fall free without appearing to shrug it off. Facing the knight now, the magus offers a bow, "I am Winter, Mithril. Some days I am content to drift, silent and soft as snowfall. Other days I need the howling winds, the building ice, the biting cold. Winter cannot be shut out, nor can it shut it, it goes where it will and does as it needs, on the whims of the sky's tides. Frostmaw's foundations and people are strong enough to not need my hand every waking moment."
Hildegarde ’s hand gently dropped from Satoshi’s shoulder, returning to its place at her side. The knight sighed softly, nodding along in understanding. “I have not once asked or told you to return to Frostmaw. I haven’t even said Frostmaw needs you,” she said, without a blush that would have once accompanied such words, “I only said: do not shut me out,” her last words waver for but a moment, as if the knight was trying hard to convey that her request was more of a personal one than a political or duty-bound one. “Frostmaw will always have my strength,” she vowed, “as will you. I am asking you now as a friend to not shut me out. I… I am not asking you anything about Frostmaw,” she said quietly.
Satoshi falters. Her mask of dignity, passivity, and certainty slips, hinting not at the would-be sage beneath but a creature young and foolhardy that's ventured into an alien realm. It makes Satoshi look almost vulnerable. This isn't about politics? Or Frostmaw? Or Satoshi? It's about -feelings-? Little ice mage, you are learned in many things, a master in a number, but this is a field you have no experience in. The look on Satoshi's face says she's as out of her element as a snowman in Summer, as she stammers as response, "Wh-what do you mean, then?" Aeron's internal facepalm is almost a palpable thing.
Hildegarde had rarely seen the Queen falter: it made the knight feel a little uneasy now! Her protective side wished to embrace Satoshi and tell her it was fine, not to worry, nothing was wrong at all, go back to hiding if you want! But she knew better. She knew that honesty was the best policy. “Satoshi, we have just been through a war together. A *war*! We have… we have seen things,” she said, wavering now and then. Her hands curled into tight yet trembling fists as she tried to control the quiver that memories sent through her. “You have been absent since. Do you not find that odd? I care about you, not because you are my Queen, but because I think of you as a friend. You have… You have always looked out for me,” she confided in Satoshi, “so let me do the same for you. The war… all of it has troubled me, I… I can’t sleep. I can barely eat,” she confessed rapidly. “I cannot believe for a moment that your mind, that your *heart* has not been shaken or hurt by this somehow.”
And so it arrives, that moment Satoshi has dwelled on since meeting the knight. The time to make a choice that she won't be able to take back. Speak the truth, and shatter Hildegarde's image of her queen. Lie, and maintain a falsity born of a knight's good-heartedness. After all these times of talking together, the Silver has become too keen in verbal combat to be bested by a feint or deflection, a fact that had been a point of pride for Satoshi until it's been turned on her. There is no dodging this arrow now that it's been loosed. A step is taken back, wary in nature, before Satoshi fixes her amber-flecked gaze on the Silver's. "I am not troubled. Not in the least. I was angry that my people were hurt and killed, for it is my duty to defend them and thus I had failed, however that anger was the fuel to slay Hrathgar. He is dead, so too is my anger. You and I... our hearts are not built the same. You feel every breeze, nudge, scratch, and wound. I do not. I never have. I mimic what I have seen others display, yet I do not understand it. Not truly. Remorse, guilt, sorrow? They are as foreign to my mind as Rynvale is to Frostmaw. I -do not feel such things-. Love? Aside from my love of the Ice and Snow, that too is new to me. Until Kasyr, Svilfon, and Kirien taught me what family was, I only knew it as a word with a peculiar definition that seemed to be only a weakness, a bane on survival. I did not know there was strength to such things. I am learning, however the war and past do not haunt me. Nightmares do not disrupt my sleep. Death does not unsettle me. You... you are like a monk I once knew, at such odds with how I think and act. A walking embodiment of emotion. I never understood how he could survive while feeling the pain of the world's every wound. It is because you remind me of him that I speak plainly to you now in this. Were it anyone else, I would have lied, played the role of the feeling, hurting victim that seeks a shoulder to cry upon. The role expected of those that feel. But you, like him... I cannot lie to. You have this image of me as this caring, gentle, kindly queen, and I'd rather maintain that image more than anything, keep buried the sinful assassin beneath, but you had to ask the one question I cannot answer falsely. Make of it what you will." Satoshi exhales then in a heavy sigh, winded despite no racial need to breathe. Weakly, as an afterthought, she includes to herself, "Ever does a Moral Compass tail me. Compelling me to do right in their eyes to avoid their disappointment. And I do not understand why I even -care- about their disappointment."
Hildegarde ’s view of Satoshi is shaken by her words. How can she be like this? Surely, this is a lie, a falsity constructed by her? Is she that fearful of revealing her feelings that she must construct something like this; she must convey herself as unfeeling? To only feel rage, hate… it is an existence that Hildegarde cannot comprehend, it is a poisonous way to live; it’s just a way of a life that’s asking for death sooner rather than later. And yet, it is not this confession that hurts her the most. It is the fact that Satoshi compares Hildegarde to another person in so many regards, that she is excluded from this idea of family, that she is a carbon copy of some monk she has never known and presumably might never know. While the knight does not think herself unique, she wanted so badly to think that what love and kindness she had to bring and offer to this world; to Satoshi, Kirien, Svilfon, everyone she has ever encountered, would be memorable for being just hers. Just. Hers. With a stiffness that is barely mastered, she speaks, “I thank you for your honesty.” She is hurt in a way that she cannot explain, maybe not rightly so, but she feels a pain that she can’t completely understand. Was she loved by Satoshi? She was uncertain. Perhaps the Queen loved the fact Hilde was useful but did not love the knight for who she was. With a small shake of her head, the knight’s thoughts turn bleak and dark. Who would love her? She is ugly. She is weak of mind and heart. She cannot think of war without falling into tremors or screaming and losing her mind to some force. A part of her questions whether she should leave or not, but she has the decency to wait. She’d go when bid to. After all, she was the one who chased Satoshi up here. Chased her into this.
Satoshi, in her own peculiar way, does care for Hildegarde. More than most. It was the same with Cuki. A being of such opposites, that she is both drawn to and infuriated by it. For the magus, however, she's unaware that this qualifies as anything resembling 'love'. She applies the term to Svilfon and Kirien, for they are bound to her by blood, a bond unbreakable, and thus unable to be betrayed, a safe means to invest emotion without backfire. Kasyr began as a fascination, then a challenge, for she wanted what belonged to another and was determined to claim it as her own. When something went wrong, the swordsman was there. When she needed adventure, the swordsman was the first to extend his hand to the solitary feline. In time, that possessiveness and obsession grew, to the point Satoshi realized she'd do anything for the tiefling, and deemed it love. She promised Cuki she would be more loyal and devoted to Kasyr than any soul could be, to prove the monk wrong about his belief in her capricious ways. What once was a whimsical game became Satoshi's definition of 'love'. She'd follow her revenant into death, she'd claw her way into Hell itself, throw down the very Gods, if it meant remaining at his side. Similar sentiments are carried for the Coterie, and Hildegarde as well, but without that unbreakable bond of blood between knight and queen, Satoshi's innate wariness prevents her from seeing it. Although the kit does not truly understand Cuki or Hildegarde's empathy, she has learned how to read them, which prompts her stance to droop at the knight's response. "I've said it wrong, it seems. I cannot expect you to understand how I work, anymore than I can expect to understand your mechanisms, why you feel pain, unhappiness, or fear. Nonetheless, I would do anything to avoid bringing you harm. Except lie. Lies, roles, masks, those are for the ones that do not matter. I don't ask that you accept it, comprehend it, or embrace it. It needed to be said, however, because you matter." With this said, Satoshi takes another step back, hands pressed to her sides as she bows again to the knight.
Hildegarde ’s voice is suddenly firm, as if she is chastising a soldier or has been annoyed so much that her patience has worn thin, “Stop bowing!” she flusters. “Do not bow to me, that’s… That is not right,” she explained in a voice that tapered off into calm again. “We, you and I, are both very different people. While I may not understand how exactly you work, it does not change how I feel or how I perceive you,” she explained. “You are my friend. You are my Queen. You are a confidant. I… I would die for you, for all the people we both care for,” she said. “And while you may not be troubled by the war, I… I am,” she said, her voice wavering into quietness as she too becomes entirely honest. She held up her hands and unfurled them to reveal how terribly they trembled and quivered; she wouldn’t be trusted to make a steady cut with hands like that; hands that have always been strong and steady. “Satoshi, you… this place, you are my family,” she said, her voice breaking, “I see you people as my family yet I do not know if I am the same. I… I am so lonely and yet surrounded by people, I cannot explain.”
Satoshi straightens at Hildegarde's tone, a retort on the tip of her tongue about how she'd learned from Cuki that equals bow to one another out of respect... but the knight is showing her hands then, hands once so certain, strong yet gentle. So this is war's aftermath. The words that follow cause Satoshi to look up, expression surprised and a hint wondering. Wordlessly she steps forward, palms up to rest beside Hildegarde's own so that each of their runic scars stand in a row together. Ice. Faith. Family. Death. "Perhaps we are not so different. I used to say something similar to what you just said. Alone but surrounded by people. I relished being alone, however, solitude suited me. Those surrounding me were nuisances, or tools at best. Since coming to Frostmaw, I've discovered otherwise. An avalanche cannot carve a path in the mountain if it is a single snowflake. So," Satoshi leans forward then to briefly nudge her forehead to Hildegarde's, a brushing of frosted hair threatening to tickle as much as chill, "while I don't know what you're going through, or how to help, I can at least remind you that you're not alone. Not really. And you matter."
Hildegarde ’s emotions are sweeping away all her formalities, all her usual forms of respect or nods to culture and norms. It is evident from the wild shaking of her hands that the knight is trying so very hard to force them to be still and yet this is only making it worse, it forces the shaking to become uncontrollable as if she is horrendously afraid. As Satoshi looks up, she may see the panic or the fear in Hilde’s usually stormy gaze: something that is usually doubtful but reassuring, never afraid. Yet since the war, she has been consumed with fear and trauma, eaten up by all these disgusting memories and feelings; she feels tainted. The nudging of foreheads is a bigger gesture than most would believe, it is pure affection amongst dragons and a sign of trust. “And yet I feel it,” she said quietly. “I’m not… not important. I keep trying to protect people and all they do is die, I… I lost Kirien,” she confesses quietly, “Sabjorn. All of them. I cannot close my eye without seeing everyone judging me.” She pauses for a moment, “This is why I… I need to know that you won’t shun me, not because you’re my Queen or I need to feel like I have a job to do, but because you’re my friend. I do not have many of those.”
Satoshi understands in that moment what Hildegarde had meant earlier about not being shut out. With all the gentleness of walking upon egg shells and glass, coupled with a grace only Satoshi can manage during such careful steps, she responds, "I have not withdrawn from Frostmaw and you as a means of shunning, abandoning, or hurting you. I do so out of -trust-, in hopes you'll realize that this city looks up to, seeks out, and relies upon your presence nearly as much as my own. When the queen is absent, they will seek the steward who has stood tall and true throughout their trials. I was not lying when I said Frostmaw is in good hands." Satoshi's hands turn over them, pressing palms to Hildegarde's not to supress the shaking but to accompany it. "So be it if those hands shake from time to time. A hand too steady is a hand too confident, and confidence breeds arrogance. A spark of uncertainty, moments of doubt, those are ripples in the water that prevent it growing stagnant. You cannot change what has and will be, you cannot change who and what you are, but you can accept it, make it your own. Do you think the world's finest sword is wrought by asking it nicely and letting the metal roll about in fields of flowers? Nonsense! It must be beaten, thrust through Hellfire and frigid waters, bent, but never broken. Hildegarde, as your queen and as your friend, I order this of you: next time you think there is something wrong with you, go to Gikal's forge and watch him craft one of his masterpieces, remember what he puts that metal through to produce it."
Hildegarde , just as Satoshi understood in that moment, so too did she understand what Satoshi had meant in regards to stewards. “You think of me as a steward?” she asked, as if wondering if this was an official position she was being given or just a role Satoshi thought she was suited to but not actually in that role. Satoshi always had a way of turning a situation or words around to her advantage or into a better light than they were first put under. While a part of her doubtful mind wishes to ask: ‘what if I am the sword that breaks?’ she ignores it. She needs to be strong. She needs to be confident.
Satoshi steps back, the movement reminiscent of the usual skip in her stride. In her eyes there's a glimmer of amusement, something impish and playful, as if Hildegarde has just told a joke with her question. "I think of you as many things, Mithril, even if you seem blind to these facts~. Maybe one day, we'll see. Until then? Well," again Satoshi bows, although unlike the formal, stiff one of before, this one is swift, casual, and accompanied by a dramatic flourish. "You know where to find me, at any time. And I don't mean with that nose of yours, because I do -not- smell, thank you." The magus' swarm of tails bristle with the remark, falsely indignant about Hildegarde's earlier form of greeting.
Hildegarde shook her head, offering a small smile, “Well, I do have only one eye,” she japed in a light-hearted manner. That said, she returns the dramatic bow with a respectful one of her own, “Indeed. I shall see that affairs run smoothly,” she said in an official manner, before smirking, “and you do smell.” The knight even sniffs in an excessively loud manner, “You smell like the first rain,” she said, before turning to begin her descent down the icy staircase.
Satoshi watches Hildegarde descend, the magus standing as silent and dignified as a proper queen. ...At least until the knight is no longer looking this way, so that Satoshi can lift a hand to her whiskers and give an experimental sniff. Like the first rain? Yes, she likes that quite a bit. Hildegarde always knows just the right things to say.