dreamcrystals | XX2 Entry

Entry tags:

XX2 Entry

Sender: Beatrix
To: All
Subject: No Rest for the Weary

It would appear that I have been indisposed, though that seems to have been rectified. If for any reason, you have been seeking me, I can now properly attend to matters that were not appropriately handled before said indisposition.

That said, please refrain from entering my personal space and leaving books, regardless of the quality of reading material. Furthermore, please refrain from entering my personal space, period.

I had, prior to my temporary condition, been discussing how to better provide a defence for the town proper. As more dream walkers find themselves in this world, not only do we grow in population count, we also grow in the evolution of the town. The market, beings who are not exactly dream walkers like ourselves, yet present all the same, farming land, the coliseum in disrepair, and our other outskirts.

I would like to know if it is possible to create a defensive ward to otherwise protect Reverein citizens from potential outside threats by use of dreamotion in the establishment of wards. If we are capable of creating such things, it may also be possible to recycle or supply a consistent and constant flow of dreamotion in an effort to power said wards or barriers.

For some time, I have contemplated the ability to, for lack of a better term, 'bottle' dreamotion for later usage. If you have any experience in such matters, I implore you to share your results.

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[He should know the answer to this. Really, he should. Beatrix has a thought to simply ignore it and move on, but... She'll be nice.]

Because I wish to avoid attention if I can help it. This is an act of subterfuge. Besides, they will appreciate the surprise.

Now, then. You can meet with me by the dreamboard in the plaza. Let us make this quick.

One need not seek attention to be considered kind, but I suspect you know that already.

[He is far too amused by her continued insistence that she is anything but, though he knows better than to push his luck further than he already has, especially given that once he sees her in person, he likely won't have the courage to gently poke fun at her any longer.]

I'll be there shortly.

[He is good to his word, as he always is, and does not keep her waiting. Though he is wearing a reserved smile as he approaches the plaza, it falters when he actually sees her, awake and about her business as though nothing had happened at all. He draws in a sharp breath before approaching the dreamboard itself, that polite, careful smile of his returning.]

You look well— it is good to have you with us again, Beatrix.

[She is certain, by this point, that he must go out of his way to annoy her. He's really quite good at it. And this is an instance where she must not give him more ammunition with which to aggravate her. He has plenty already. As a result, she simply leaves it as it is and makes way for the dreamboard.

When he finds her, she's looking over the various quests, evidently checking for anything new to be available. In one arm, cradled closely to her, are two meticulously wrapped gifts. Her other hand lingers over where Save the Queen is sheathed.

Seems no amount of sleep changes Beatrix in the slightest. She continues to be... predictable, perhaps. When he addresses her, she turns from where she's standing and offers him a subtle dip of her chin. Acknowledgement.]

I believe you mean to say I look well rested. [She corrects him. As to the truth of that or not, debatable. She's under the impression she's never exactly been 'well rested.'] I will reassure you yet again that I was fine and you had no reason to hold concern. Now that I am here, however, perhaps any future concerns of yours will be alleviated.

I said what I meant.

[Her correction seems to trouble him little; she will insist on rebuffing his compliments, as she always has, and he will continue to stand by them. He does not foresee that changing anytime soon.

All the while, that infuriatingly patient smile of his remains, and he offers a hand, gesturing towards the packages she carries.]

My concerns are alleviated for the time being, though I can make no promises about the future. May I help you with your burden?

[Any offer of politeness, no matter how small, may help his case moving forward. Maybe.]

I can carry them.

[She has to wonder, in those moments, why she feels such a need to be so incredibly defensive. She supposes it wouldn't ordinarily be any different. She likes doing everything herself. In some way, needs to do everything herself. But as she plays it all back, she can realise how that must look. All of this time passing and she's just as cold as she was, in some ways, when she arrived. There's growth, of course, but it's subtle and light.

As she studies him for some moments, she finally concedes, and with something that is very similar to a begrudging sigh, she offers over one parcel to him before she beckons him along. She's not entirely certain where she's going, but it's more or less a little guessing game on treehouse abodes and their residents.]

Gifts for Oriphi and Tifa. I meant to give them after the flower festival, but for obvious reasons that did not happen. I am making up for that now.

[As he expected, though even suspecting the offer would be declined, he had felt compelled to make it. He only gives a single nod of confirmation, prepared to let the offer slip away, but she instead offers him one of the parcels in question, causing his brows to raise slightly in response.

Well, perhaps she's not quite so hardened as he'd come to expect. His smile pulls just a touch wider, and he gladly accepts the package, tucking it gingerly beneath his own arm, following easily and falling into step beside her.]

Understandably, you were a touch occupied. I am sure they will appreciate them regardless— the sender and sentiment matters far more than when the gifts are received.

[And, given the ladies in question, he's certain they will simply be pleased to know she was thinking of them.]

You have chosen your friends well, I might add— whether or not you might call them such, they certainly see you in that particular light.

Yes. I do think you are right. Rather, they will perceive things as you have.

[Ori and Tifa are such sentimental creatures. So comfortable with their sentiments. Their attachments to people, ideals, feelings, and so on. Beatrix almost envies that. Sort of. That is, she wouldn't dare say so aloud. Probably.

Her attention snaps onto Dohalim and she cocks her eyebrow. There he goes again. Friends. Friendship. Doesn't he ever get tired of going on about that? He's starting to sound like Zidane. They'd probably love one another.]

Such things are not necessarily chosen. I certainly never asked for them. There is no denying they have been considerate and kind. I feel it only proper to repay them in something similar. Acknowledgement, at the very least.

[Indeed he does not get tired of going on about such things, nor does her response to such notions take him by surprise any longer. She is, as ever, quite literal, and he chuckles as he shakes his head slightly, an easy, companionable sound.]

As ever, you are quite determined to explain away any sort of sentiment on your part.

[Perhaps a bit too determined.]

Kindness is not a weakness, may I remind you. It is strength.

I—

[Beatrix pauses for just some moments as she considers how to address him. Of course it's not. Kindness is a strength. Having the ability to be kind is a boon, not a curse. However...

She clears her throat.]

I do understand that. It may seem that I do not, but I do. I simply wish to be perceived in a certain way. Things are significantly easier when people find me to be intimidating or difficult to approach. There is no need to grow close to me, to make expectations of me that I may otherwise be incapable of meeting, and the fact of the matter is that in Alexandria it is not as though I have others I would call 'friends.' Frankly, I have no idea how to be a friend, or anything else to someone. That is the way of it.

[Beatrix shakes her head and she proceeds.]

['There is no need to grow close to me.'

That was just the trouble, wasn't it? Regardless of how she may feel, that is not something someone can control. It sticks with him, but he chooses not to address it at the moment, turning his attention to the rest of what she's said— for now.

The fact of the matter is, people have grown close to her in their way, regardless of her wishes, himself included.]

I'm not certain it's the sort of thing anyone truly 'knows' how to do. I was without friends for years, thanks to my own position. It is something one learns by doing, and is never quite through learning.

[Because people, like everything else, change. They grow, and hearts and minds must grow along with them.]

Regardless of how you wish to be perceived, people have come to care for you. You cannot stop them from doing so.

I can imagine. It all sounds very troublesome.

[Again, cold of her. Does she actually believe that? How much of what Beatrix says is reflected as truth? Maybe she simply says as she does, acts as she does, to provide a ward against others. If she paints herself as unpleasant, then surely people will—

Except that hasn't really worked, has it? Perhaps she simply knows a plethora of those who enjoy getting under her skin. Or those who know better. Beatrix does, despite her ice-like approach to situations and people, exhibit moments, beliefs, thoughts, and feelings that reflect a contrast in how she chooses to portray herself. It is, perhaps obvious to some, that she is not all soldier.

Present moment in point.]

I am acutely aware of how some feel regarding me. As much as I should like to change it, I also acknowledge that I do not have that ability. It is what it is. Tell me you did not accompany me today to lecture me about such things.

[It certainly hasn't worked, despite her best efforts.

He hesitates before answering, shaking his head. He has 'lectured' her on plenty of occasions before, he supposes, but he does not intend to do so now— especially given the line he had crossed. He is in no position to lecture anyone, now, is he?]

No, I did not— and I will not.

[That, he will concede.]

I only wanted to enjoy your company, and to speak with you.

[Only will not because she's cut him off at the head of things? Beatrix puzzles, though what he follows up with is about as perplexing. Enjoying her company? It's such a Dohalime thing to say. He's a stunning example of what they were just speaking on.

Can't get rid of someone who refuses to listen. But if she's honest with herself, when it comes to him. To Oriphi. To Tifa. To Zidane. To Eustace. To Hans. To Barok. To Diluc. To... To everyone she's met and grown marginally close with, she's is thankful to have them. She values them. Their presence. Their input.

Whatever befuddlement is in her expression passes and she looses a sigh.]

You missed me. I see. [It's not accusatory. It's simply an observation.] I am not a particularly good conversationalist. For this situation, I shall do my best.

I may have.

[It's more a confession than it is coy, the corner of his smile quirking slightly upwards, just faintly sheepish. He had, in fact, missed her— more than he had first realized, it would seem, given certain whims. He'd spent a great deal pondering precisely what that meant in the days that followed.

It's entirely possible that he had overcomplicated things, but that is in his nature.]

You do not need to be anyone but who you are. In fact, I suspect I may be doing much of the talking... there is something I need to tell you, regarding your absence.

[His smile fades, his expression becoming tense, thoughtful as they make their way.]

[For something that was meant to be slightly humorous, he takes it seriously. For several long moments, Beatrix simply stares at him. Maybe... he's just teasing her. That sounds like something he would do. Maybe. In this situation, perhaps. Or maybe he's testing her. Making sure she is, indeed, the very same woman she was the last time they spoke.

The words he follows up with threaten another pause in her footing. Her thoughts immediately begin to turn. What could he possibly have to tell her? He's not in danger. It doesn't seem anything horrible happened whilst she was asleep, which she supposes is probably a good thing. What could he possible have need to say? Why now?

The furrow in her brow deepens as she considers the possibilities and finally decides that isn't the game she wants to play.]

I am listening.

[She is, even as she's perusing the variety of treehouses. Whoever comes first doesn't matter to her. Tifa or Oriphi. Oriphi or Tifa. Better if she doesn't run into either whilst they're out and about doing this. The last thing she wants is a public spectacle with her at the centre of it.]

I thought you said nothing dire happened.

Well— I would not call it something dire.

[She might, he reasons, considering how much effort she has put into refusing friendship, let alone any other form of companionship.

This, he is certain, is a delicate matter.]

I suppose that depends on one's definition. I looked in on you frequently while you were asleep... it seemed the proper thing to do. While I regret that it required me to enter your home without permission, there is enough unknown about what dreamers experience in such a state that it seemed prudent. I wanted to ensure your safety.

[But she already knows that he had been worried. That's nothing new.]

I... apologize, for that breach of trust.

[It's a start. He averts his gaze, indicating there may well be more.]

[Had she not already heard Eustace's input and knowing that Eustace himself had already been in there, it is possible Beatrix may have taken this worse. Instead, she simply nods along. Because she does understand, though she made very certain to stay away from Prince Hans' abode during his sleep. If only because she meant to be... appropriate.

There's really very little appropriate about going to visit someone alone. Even if it had seemed Ferran was looking after him anyway.]

I understand why you did so.

[She doesn't bother saying she already knows he was there more than once. Would there be a point in doing so? There was more time put into trying to explain that there wasn't anything unscrupulous going on to the observant watcher.]

You do not strike me as the sort to go through my things. So I assume, that is. It sounds, however, that you may have spent a decent amount of time looking after me. Did you make any practical discoveries?

[It is a much gentler response than he might have guessed, though he does not dare to question why that might be. Instead, best that he is simply grateful for it and moves on. He knows for a fact he was not the only one to look in on her, and perhaps that has done something to ease what irritation there may have been.]

No, of course not— it would be unseemly to go through your belongings. You will find them all untouched and exactly as you left them, unless someone else has made such a grievous misstep, in which case I would have words with them.

[But anyone who was friends enough with Beatrix to feel compelled to visit or look after her would have known better. They were all good, honest people, so far as he could tell.

He goes on to shake his head, though his frown pulls a touch deeper.

He had made a discovery of sorts, had he not?]

While I was there... I felt myself compelled.

[He'll have words with them? Beatrix hides a chuckle under her breath. As if she needs someone to do that for her. But she supposes it's a little amusingly charming that he would step in to do something like that. She's the knight. She's supposed to protect him. Not the other way around. Although... she doesn't forget that he's made an offer of something the same.

Less an offer. A want, she supposes. She's sure that's how he said it back when they exchanged words that day in Alexandria castle as she took him to the terrace.]

I am still investigating that. [She replies somewhat dismissively as she examines a treehouse she is almost certain is Oriphi's.] Missing items? Uncertain. Additional items not there prior to my sleep, I can confirm. [That stupid book she and Eustace were in, which is now evidently available for public perusal.]

[Before she falls into that trap expertly laid for herself, his next words catch her. She's in the process of ascending up the way to Oriphi's residence and she pauses, looking to him.]

...Compelled? [The furrow in her brow deepens yet again, as it oft does in his company.] Compelled to do what, exactly.

[The way she asks it, it's not a question. Almost demanding. His words hint at something like a roundabout game. She suspects she's not going to like whatever he has to say next.]

[Delicate as the situation is, he can tiptoe around it no longer. With Tifa's package still tucked under his arm, he drops his gaze to one side so that he might collect himself, summon up the courage to confess in full. It would be better, perhaps, if he could look at her directly, but it is difficult to find the nerve to do so when she sounds so very firm.]

I kissed you.

[He closes his eyes, bracing for impact.

Any moment now—]

["I kissed you."

Everything else in the moment stops. She isn't thinking about her gifts for Tifa and Oriphi any longer. She isn't thinking about the stupid book she's hidden beneath her pillow. She isn't thinking about her own shortcomings or the ever weighted repercussions for her actions back home.

Honestly, it's quite the achievement that he can simply knock everything else aside with only three words. Is he serious? He can't be. What kind of idiot—

Well. Him. He's that kind of idiot. Is this what Eustace meant? Is that why Dohalim went to see her so often? According to Eustace's observations. For several moments, Beatrix simply stares at him. Practically stares him right down. He may be acting as if he's merely inches tall, but one would think the sharp of her gaze would cut him where her sword does not.

What the hell is she supposed to say? She can't do anything about it. It already happened. Is she angry? She can't even determine. It feels a little unfair, actually, given she couldn't even judge him for being 'good' or 'bad.' Not that she's got the experience anyway. Her first kiss is not exactly one she wants to think of when he's busy trying to be the prince in some storybook and treat her as... what, a princess?

How many times does she have to say it? She's the furthest thing from a lady. Except... maybe she isn't?

What if she decides to say nothing at all? A Beatrix not addressing a situation is potentially far more frightening than one who does. She's known for being direct and getting to the heart of the matter. Yes, maybe that's the right way to handle this.

By decidedly not handling it.

So instead of running him through, which is a great temptation in the present, she turns her back to him and resumes her ascending up the pathway.]

Well. This is Lady Oriphi's place, I suspect.

[There's a long pause before he opens one eye— just one— baffled that a stronger response had not been made. There was no harsh rebuke, at least not yet, and he cannot decide if that means he can breathe easily or if he should be more worried than he already is.]

Yes, I believe so.

[A beat, as he opens his other eye, puzzled.]

... this is a world built upon dreams and stories. Some part of me foolishly thought it might wake you.

[But of course, there was more to it than that.]

I should have known that it would not, but I— I could not help myself.

[Beatrix draws in a breath and for several moments, she simply holds it. She doesn't want an explanation. She doesn't want to discuss it at all. She wants to act like it never happened, because then she doesn't have to give it the thought that it's probably required from the first moment she realised she actually liked his company.

He's right, in the end. She's always overcomplicating things.

Resisting the urge to set her jaw, Beatrix gradually makes her way to the front entryway and she bends down just long enough to set Oriphi's package down. Turning back to Dohalim, she watches him some moments and offers over a hand for Tifa's. She's not holding the other one anymore; she can take this one back.]

How about we just pretend you did not say any of this? I am willing to do that.

[And given that she's not a charitable woman, this seems a surprising act of charity. Even if it is incredibly self-serving.]

[It is a charitable offer, from a certain point of view, but his immediate instinct is that it is not what he wants. He frowns, his brows drawing downwards as he does so, gamely handing Tifa's package back to her when she holds a hand out for it. Though he believes they have more to talk about, she was here with a purpose, one he had insisted on aiding her with.]

I don't believe that's wise.

[Perhaps it is what's best for her, in the end; she does not care for sentiment or complications, and what he may go on to say will undeniably offer both, but he does not have it in him to remain silent, either. Guilt had only been one of the reasons why.]

It was not— I do not believe it was simply a lapse in judgment. I have made no secret of the fact that I enjoy your company.

[Surely, this was an extension of that.]

[Just be quiet.

But of course he can't, can he? How did this even happen? The only thing she's done is push and push and push him away. How does it end up accomplishing the opposite? She is wary, unbelievably wary, when she simply accepts Tifa's parcel and she looses a breath she's probably been holding in hopes of avoiding these strange, awkward, and emotionally exhausting conversations. And given she's never been much of an emotional person, she is the worst kind of individual to have such talks with.

She could just as simply cut him off and be done with it, but that's not really going to change anything. Just because she's uncomfortable with breaking out of her 'general' mindset doesn't mean his feelings, or anyone else's change. She doesn't have that kind of influence and she's aware of it. Would she even want it...?

Once more, Eustace's words ring in her head, sharp and to the point as they were.]

I—

[She hesitates. Plainly. Clearing her throat, Beatrix shakes her head as she decides to just push through whatever she feels is holding her discipline in place.]

It is a little unkind when my first— [She can't even make herself say it and she can tell by the way her expression twists awkwardly.] —Whatever. Enjoy my company if you must. I cannot stop you from doing any such thing.

[She draws up her free hand and pinches the bridge of her nose in frustration.]

I hardly know what you wish me to say in response to this... this confession. [Because at least with letters, she could simply ignore them.] I think you have come to the wrong individual. We both know how I am with others outside of a professional capacity. I am ill-suited for such... such endeavours.

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