crescentview | 🍁🎑🦋 Bug Eater Farm: Autumn Catch-all 🦋🎑🍁

[ In the meanwhile, Trahearne spends his time watching the sky darken; he seems calm on the outside, but on the inside, he's buzzing with nerves. He's eager to see what sort of outfit Syrlya picks, he hopes it goes well, he hopes Syrlya has a good time.

He hears the bell on the door to the shop ring, and his head snaps to the side. When he sees what Syrlya's wearing, his expression immediately lights up. ]

You look--

[ He catches himself as the word forms in his throat. Is he...is he allowed to say that? Now? For a moment he falters, his mind kicking into high gear, trying to decide what he should say, now that the words have left his mouth.

...Actually, he'd told himself he wasn't going to hold himself back anymore. So why is he overthinking this? ]

--beautiful.

[ It's a good thing Syrlya chose the outfit he did. Trahearne isn't thinking about anyone else. Nor does he want to. As far as he's concerned, they're the only two people in the world right now.

He approaches, beaming smile still on his face as he extends his arm again. ]

Shall we?

[It's not the words, but Trahearne's expression as he says them that gives Syrlya pause.]

Well--you look good yourself. [He almost mumbles. You'd think being such a public figure would make him better at taking compliments, but those about himself have always been a little harder to swallow because he just never expects them.

There's just the faintest blush on his cheeks as he gingerly takes Trahearne's arm to descend the short steps--and he's glad he talked them out of pushing those shoes with the much larger heels.] Let's go eat.

[ Unfortunately, at this point, Trahearne has been lavished with compliments by so many others that he's learned to take those directed towards his appearance in stride. Experience brought him confidence, but that confidence comes with...a history of people that aren't Syrlya.

He isn't thinking about that, though. Instead he gives a soft chuckle; he feels light, and he feels the prick of a flush on his own cheeks. ]

Thank you.

[ Has he ever heard Syrlya say that to him before? Even if he has, it fills him with joy all the same.

With the other on his arm, they make their way across town to the restaurant, and...

"I'm sorry, but we're full for the rest of the evening."

It's not like Trahearne has much experience with this. At all. Slightly shocked that there are enough people on the island to fill up the restaurant, he heads back out. ]

That's unfortunate. [ He sighs a bit, but doesn't seem too bothered by the change in plans. He glances down the street. ] I suppose we could swing by the grocery store to find something to eat.

[In retrospect, maybe he should have expected this. This isn't a bit island, but that also means there aren't a lot of other places to go. He'd been here for a dinner date once before with Kaeya, so he's not surprised not getting a reservation was a problem after all... but he's mindful not to bring that up.]

... It's fine, I'm not that hungry anyway. [Or rather, he doesn't want to engage with messy eating when he has to return this dress.] I don't mind skipping dinner.

Are you sure?

[ Just to make doubly sure. He knows Syrlya won't starve, and Trahearne himself doesn't mind skipping food. He just doesn't want to send him home hungry. ]

So long as you don't mind walking on an empty stomach.

[ Said with a hint of a tease. ]

It's fine, Trahearne. [Although now he's kind of hoping that this walking wasn't supposed to be some ticketed event too. Better keep his expectations low. He adjusts the bag on his arm.] You lead the way. You know where we're going.

All right.

[ And with a little smile, he begins walking off through the town at a leisurely pace. The walk definitely isn't a ticketed event... Or at least he doesn't seem to be in a hurry to get anywhere.

After a little moment of silence, he looks over. ]

How have you been?

[ It's been a while. In his book. ]

[Syrlya follows beside him, occasionally glancing around to see if he can guess where it is they're walking to.]

I've been fine. [At least, nothing that's stressed him out has actually been his personal problems.] I've noticed it's a new season...

[ They are headed east, and Trahearne seems to be taking them on a path that will lead them out of town. ]

It is.

[ He breathes in, taking in the faint humidity behind the crisp in the air. It's getting cold. ]

To think it was spring when we first arrived, and now autumn is upon us.

[ Two seasons... There's a little twinge of guilt at that. Just a faint one. ]

It's very strange that they're so short. [This is obviously the thing to focus on. What the fuck. They're only four weeks.

This dress leaves him more exposed to the cold, so it's only the natural coolness of his body that spares him from feeling worse in it.]

It is.

[ He tilts his head a bit, recounting all that's happened. And with one week of autumn down, there are only three left. ]

It makes one wonder how long we are meant to stay here--if there is a purpose to us experiencing the seasons at such an accelerated rate.

[ Hmm. ]

I wonder what happens at the end of winter.

Presumably Spring. The goddess hasn't mentioned anything about her terms changing. [That is, the only way they can actually release themselves from this island is to get married. He has no reason to think that will change after a year, accelerated or not.] And she continues to bring in a steady flow of people, so I assume this will persist.

[ He hums. ]

A reasonable guess. [ There have been no warnings or signs about limited time, but that anxiety is always there. ] A world with shorter seasons is something we will have to get used to, I suppose.

[ Assuming they stay for much longer.

As they walk, there comes the distant sound of the waves and the faint smell of salt on the air. Trahearne is taking them to the beach. ]

Edited 2023-02-10 08:09 (UTC)

[If they stay for much longer...

Ah. Syrlya looks down, watching his step as they reach the sand so he doesn't press too hard and get it in his shoes. That would suck. These are so much lower than boots.]

[ Trahearne pauses in his walking (he is not wearing shoes, like normal), to turn back, watching Syrlya pick his way over the sand. His head is tilted curiously for a moment before he takes a few steps back to stand beside him. ]

Do you need help?

[ Looks at his feet. Ah, that's why. ]

It might be more comfortable if you remove your shoes.

I suppose I should... [His foot sinks too far, and it seems like he's going to be getting sand on them anyway.

He leans over, pulling them off one after the other and depositing them in the same bag with his clothes.]

[ Trahearne only watches patiently, a small smile on his face.

It's dark. The moon and its wreath of stars peek through the clouds as they drift overhead, casting a faint glow over the water and the sands in those brief moments. Besides the sound of the waves, a few resting gulls, and the teal and fuchsia glows from the sylvari, the beach is empty, and all theirs.

And as Trahearne watches, he's overwhelmed with how much affection he feels for Syrlya. When the other is finished putting his shoes away, Trahearne catches Syrlya's free hand with his own, gently entwining their fingers together. Not too forceful, only to give him a chance to pull away if he doesn't like it.

Even if he does, that doesn't change the sentiment he's about to voice. ]

Though short it has been thus far, I am glad I've gotten to spend it with you. [ He smiles. ] The time we've been given has been a blessing.

Edited (asdfkasdlkfk) 2023-02-10 09:08 (UTC)

[Syrlya's hand is caught as he straightens back up, and he puts his attention on Trahearne.]

I... [He averts his gaze down, his grip tightening.] I'm glad I was able to see you again.

[ Even if Syrlya looks away, Trahearne doesn't. He gives a light chuckle before beginning to walk again, pace slow. For the time being, it's nice not to be in a hurry.

"Again," however, carries more weight than Syrlya perhaps realizes. He lifts his gaze to the sky. ]

I wish I could have been there with you the whole time. To share your joy, your pain, and your burden.

[ He knows Syrlya has found more people to support him--rightfully so. Perhaps it's selfish of him to wish that, then. ]

I am sorry.

Sorry? [Syrlya Looks up, blinking rapidly.] It's not your fault what happened.

[He could lay blame at the feet of a lot of people. Himself included. But Trahearne was never one of those.]

Perhaps not. [ Unconsciously, he holds tighter. ] But I will always wonder if I could have done something different.

[ They are his final memories, after all. He can't help the nightmares, the anxious churning in his head in his quieter moments. ]

I am glad, [ He turns to smile at Syrlya once more. ] that I've at least gotten to learn what you've accomplished, and seen what you've become.

[ A beat. ]

I'm so proud of you, Valiant.

[ There's a little tease when he calls him that--it's been a long time. Even for him. ]

[Syrlya's expression twists at that.] Well, I'm not a Valiant anymore.

[His efforts to match the mood fall a little flat, because he... doesn't know how he feels about that, still. The lack of a Wyld Hunt pulling at his mind. It gave him purpose and direction so his life... what does he do now that his reason to exist has completed?

This place is distracting, keeps him from dwelling for too long. But he feels hollow inside thinking about it.]

I know.

[ Trahearne was lucky that in the immediate aftermath, he had the Pact to focus on. He thought about redefining himself, he really did. There was a time in his life he thought about what life might be like once he was done with his Hunt, without the Pact, but he finds it hard to picture it now.

Unfortunately, he comes up empty in terms of advice.

Regardless, the completion of a Wyld Hunt--especially one as monumental as killing all of the Elder Dragons--deserves to be celebrated. He'd be more than happy to brainstorm with him after...this.

Trahearne feels another flutter of nerves in his gut, and the breath he takes to calm himself is louder than he intends. Either way, his pace slows to a stop, hand tugging on Syrlya's to do the same. ]

I don't think I've given you my congratulations on completing your Wyld Hunt yet.

[Syrlya stops, his attention up on Trahearne once they do.]

Thank you. [This is a compliment easier to accept, and he's not sure what about the topic should be nerve-wracking.] I couldn't have done it alone. But I think Tyria will be better off with this dragon cycle behind it.

[ It's such a professional answer. Trahearne's smile widens a touch as the thought crosses his mind.

He leans forward slightly, clasping his hands behind his back. ]

Yes. As your Marshal of—no, as former Marshal of the Pact, I give you my wholehearted congratulations on a job well done. You have gone far above and beyond everyone's expectations, and I can think of no one better to have heralded Tyria's new era of peace.

[ He relaxes, standing up straight again, and his expression softens. ]

But as your Trahearne, I...wanted to give you this.

[ When he brings his hands forward again, in it is a little velvet box. He slowly pries it open, revealing inside an elegant necklace, the amethyst glinting faintly in the moonlight.

His mouth opens, as though he wants to say something, but falters, unable to recall exactly what he wanted to say in this moment behind all these nerves.

He doesn't even realize he said "your Trahearne." ]

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