songerein | { once upon a fairytale }

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{ once upon a fairytale }

ONCE UPON A FAIRYTALE

One night, a sweet melody fills the air around Reverein, causing everyone to fall into a deep, peaceful sleep, as if trying to soothe all from the stress of the past few months. However, there are those who are completely lulled by the beautiful music, silently slipping out of bed or off the floor or wherever they were sleeping and sleepwalk out of town to disappear into the woods. It will only be in the morning when everyone left will notice them gone.

Fortunately it's not too difficult to follow the trail. The music continues to play and there are music notes floating in the air to guide searchers deep into the Wildlands. When they approach a golden bridge crossing over a large, rainbow river, they are stopped by some local fae who had witnessed the strange changes. They will tell of how the forest has shifted and changed, with new structures and creatures suddenly inside. There is a strong magic over it, and they are wary of entering as those who have gone to investigate have yet to return. There are witnesses who have seen people inside, but they are acting…strange. And dressed strangely, too, with some looking as if they are in costumes. It's not Halloween, so what's going on?

Those brave enough to cross the bridge will find themselves suddenly changed into different clothes or costumes to match a fairytale character. Those who have had previous experiences in various story based dreamscapes may be somewhat familiar to this. It's completely random (ie, player choice) and a piece of sheet music will appear in front with the following words:

Deep within the forest your friends are stuck in play
Dreaming of a different life to live from day to day
Fear not, brave hero, for their lives are in no threat
But until the music ends will this spell continue yet

Find them in their role and play along
Be it through facing evil villains or singing a song
Perhaps you can remind of who they really are
Find pieces of their memories locked in a jar

Good luck to you, dear hero!
You've reached the final verse
Break this spell before the next new moon
Or this spell will be a cUrSe 😈

More details on everything can be found here. As a reminder, events double as our TDMs and information can be found here. Any outside characters participating in the log are canonly logged as appearing in Songerein in February and will remain in Songerein from the IC date of February 14th (however, the event itself ICly takes place February 25th through March 2nd). TDM only characters can only thread within this log. Anyone who apps in and is accepted will have their character count February as their first time in the game without any disruption, so all content will carry over. Those who do not apply will disappear which should not seem too unusual, however players in game can choose to retcon and pretend a character was never there to begin with if it would be easier; or even think their presence was just a dream.

IMPORTANT! All outside characters MUST have "TDM" in their subject line, even if you might not app. This will help people differentiate those who are already in the game and those who are not.

TDM threads are required for samples. Refer to the Game Info for general information and feel free to toss any questions here. Reserves will open February 23rd and Applications will open on March 1st. Our application cycles are bi-monthly so the next cycle after won't be until May.

TDM Toplevel Link Directory (click to view)

Animorphs - Tobias
Final Fantasy VII - Tseng
Final Fantasy XIV - G'raha Tia
Final Fantasy XVI - Clive Rosfield
Granblue Fantasy Re:Link: Rackam
Hazbin Hotel - Husk
Hazbin Hotel - Lucifer Morningstar

We will request any thread submissions for certain prompts during AC and TDM threads will count. For more information, refer to the Game Notes.

"ENCHANTED" FOREST

All characters in the Enchanted Forest will be dressed in some kind of storybook, fairytale role, and they can be as generic or as specific as players want them to be. Heroes, villains, or an odd mix between are allowed.

The following prompts are more like "setting pieces" that players can utilize either for their sleepwalking character or for a general prompt for those helping out to get through. This is a non-exhaustive list and players are encouraged to be creative and add whatever they need. Sleepwalkers can create their own toplevels featuring their own story setup and/or tag into others. Players are also free to use NPCs who are also caught in the curse to help instead.

Finally, all original abilities are gone while in the Forest, including dreamotion. Instead, they will be replaced with abilities and skills based on the role the character is playing. This does mean you can cheat and choose a role that has abilities similar to the character's original set, but if you're willing to try and be completely creative, you can do so. You can be as open or as restrictive as you want, whatever works best for you.

(Note: The Love is in the Air bubbles are also in effect throughout this event. Because of the IC dates, the Dream Board can also be used as prompts as long as they are set before the event occurs.)

A. SLEEPWALKERS

Those affected by the spell will be called "sleepwalkers" and will be found at various parts of the Enchanted Forest that fits their fairytale character's role. They will be dressed as the character, be a protagonist or a villain, and a lot of creative liberties and freedom are allowed. Their role may also be a little strange and mixed up. Perhaps Red Riding Hood is part wolf, or Thumbelina is a fierce warrior princess ready to take down all the "giants."

The "script" and story may also be twisted up, so it will be up to those trying to help them to try and play along to get a hint on how to save them by finding their memories locked in jars, which are hidden somewhere within their vicinity. Once found, it can only be opened by the sleepwalker, and it will help "wake" them up back to their original self. However, this is a temporary measure until the whole spell is broken.

(Note: To help players find your scenario, please comment to this Sleepwalker Scenario Directory thread here.)

B. FIND THE FLUTE

While some are trying to help those affected, others are focused more on the curse and breaking it. There are bubble-like music notes that appear here and there, and popping them will reveal a piece of sheet music that will have a bar or two of lyrics that will give a hint to where the flute may be hiding. It's different for everyone, and sometimes it can be straightforward and sometimes it's not. However, should anyone sing the piece, music notes will appear and form a trail to lead them right to the flute (the notes will visibly reflect how good or poorly it's sung).

There are multiple instances of the flute and it can be found anywhere within the Forest. Sometimes it's easy to see, others will be hidden or guarded by a creature. It could even be in the hands of a sleepwalker. (Note: as mentioned in the Dream Notes, at least 10 different flute instances must be destroyed for the spell to be broken. If we do not receive enough submissions, the curse will continue with a Part Two in March.)

C. DARK WOODS

There are portions of the forest that are visibly darker. Not only is it denser with more trees, but gray clouds hang over it, further blocking sunlight from it. It's so dark in some places it almost feels like night and lanterns or other sources of light will be needed. Beware of the creatures that lurk. Some are friendly, others like to appear with random rhymes and riddles, and then there are the dangerous ones that are feeling a bit hungry. Be careful of the fruit that hang from some trees, as they can either be poisonous or just have a strange effect on those who eat it.

Deep, deep in the dark woods there is a mysterious fog that will quickly disorient anyone who are caught in it. This is known as the haunted section of the woods, so beware of spirits and ghosts that might wander through.

D. BRIDGES

There is a strange amount of bridges scattered around the Forest, and some of them aren't even crossing over any rivers—just empty ditches or even large chasms. The types will also vary, from fancy bricks to wooden bridges suspended by something that isn't very discernable (the ropes disappear into the sky…??). However, they all have one thing in common: trolls. Some are friendly and will let people pass after answering a few questions. Others will require a bribe. And some will force fights and other annoying challenges. Even then, the bridges themselves may be a bit wobbly, especially those wooden ones, or things like goblins may still pop out to try and steal from them. But perhaps some goats will help?

E. COTTAGES

And all other manner of houses, some of which may be made out of food, straw, sticks, or brick instead of wood. Some of these may be empty, others may already have an occupant. There could be people, could be animals; friendly or hostile. Just be careful of the beds—they can be quite comfortable and some may even be drawn to sleep in them…and need a little smooch to awaken. Those tempted by the food may find it delicious, but they may turn into a grumpy bear always complaining about the temperatures of the food and never satisfied. Baking a few goodies may also help those affected nearby.

Watch out for wolves and young, blond girls. They seem to like breaking into these places.

F. SWAMPS

Deeper within the Forest are pockets of swampland that house all manner of dangerous creatures, such as the will-o-wisps that like to lead wanderers astray, and those looking for a trusty steed? Avoid the horses here—they are kelpies that will waste no time in taking them into the murky waters. As it is a favorite spot for witch ingredients, it is more likely for someone to encounter one and suffer some kind of strange curse here, especially those involving animal transformations with frogs as a favorite. Don't forget the ogres—they don't like to be disturbed.

G. CASTLES

There are at least one or two castles deep within the Forest, though they are a lot smaller than their real counterparts. Some are just a single tower that needs to be climbed up to help whoever is trapped up there. While there could be fair damsels that need rescuing, there are also treasures that could be found and taken instead. Or perhaps one wants to conquer the castle instead and be its king or queen. However, like everything else here, there are curses and enchantments everywhere. The cutlery may not be so keen on intruders, and one may feel the need to sing and dance a musical number more often than not.

But of course these have their own guardians, with the dragons being a favored choice. Wizards and other sorcerers are also common tenants, and they will gladly use their magic to expel anyone who tries to get in.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Does she have questions? She needs to think about that for a moment, so instead of answering him right away she releases a contemplative hum before urging him to continue walking with her towards where Torgal sits waiting by a pair of stone archways brightened by moss and wisteria.

There's a part of her heart that does ache over Clive's self-sacrificial nature. It's a familiar pain, somehow, as if dulled by years of acclimation to its existence, and this time the princess isn't so quick to cast it aside as a silly whimsy of her mind.]

My inquiry is thus: what might I do to protect you in turn?

[If he's simple, then so is she; all she wants is to see him thrive. This, too, is simply how things are supposed to be.]

[ Her question surprises him, not so much because she asked it (because that is so classically Jill) but because he has no answer to give her.

What could he possibly need protecting from if she's at his side? Ultima is gone. The only thing he wants now is for what's left of his family to be reunited, to live in peace, but he doesn't want that burden to rest on her shoulders alone. ]

You are doing it already, your Highness. The glance of your eyes, the touch of your hands... each breath you take. Your very presence. That is all I need.

[At his words, the princess stills for a moment. The haze shifts. She wonders things she'd never wondered before. In storybooks, the princesses and their princes always seem to love each other so quickly, so easily, but even at her most romantic she's never really believed in that. It takes time. Trust. Faith. Pain and pleasure. Perseverance.

And yet...]

Then I shall endeavour to make that so until my last breath fades from my lungs.

[There's still a role she has to play, though, and she's so well-accustomed to falling into whichever step fate lurches her towards that she carries on. Even if her heart grows more expansive and she feels the man before her stepping into his rightful place therein.

Up ahead Torgal barks, pacing between the archways. One leads down towards a beach; the other the ruins of a palace with still-standing towers rising high into the sky. There's only one person who knows which route to take, and the princess turns to face him once more.]

Where now, Sir Clive?

[ He lifts her hand to his lips once again, kissing her fingers tenderly before he leads her down the path to the beach. It's a long stretch of moonlit gray, but it isn't a blighted or lifeless gray--instead, it glistens and sparkles in the pale light, almost glowing, as if it were composed entirely of crystalline sand, the myriad colors of the individual grains blending together from a distance. Salty air whispers through the tall grass, and the sound of the surf rushes in and out, in and out.

Most importantly, the moon hangs above them in the velvet-black sky, casting its serene light down upon them.

It's beautiful, but not as beautiful as her.

He brings her just shy of the waterline and removes his cape (which he definitely has even if the reference picture was missing one) and lays it out for her to take a seat. ]

My lady.

[This time when he kisses her fingers, her eyes flutter shut for but a moment, and she looks at him as though he hung the moon himself rather than simply bringing her to witness its glory.]

Thank you, my knight.

[As she settles into place on his cape, motes of light rise from the crystalline sand, twinkling in the shades of fire and ice, of smoke and snow. They flit about like butterflies in search of flowers in the middle of a barren desert, so hopeful and yet so futile.

The princess looks up to Clive, then shifts over to the very edge of his cape to make room for him to sit, too, should he be willing. She gestures to the space with another regal flourish, then smiles up at him, her eyes brightened by every light surrounding them. By some she holds inside as well.]

Would you join me? There's something I'd quite like to share with you.

[ Of course he'll join her.

First bowing, Clive takes his seat beside Jill with a light clanking of armor. Even though she'd asked him to bring her here to see the moon and the little dancing motes of light, the only thing he has eyes for is her. ]

If it would please you, I'd rather you call me by my name. Just 'Clive.'

[ His expression is so tender as he looks at her--there can be no hiding that he loves her, that he's in love with her; even if he keeps the words to himself, his eyes betray him. ]

What would you like to share?

[Once Clive has taken his seat, the princess shifts until she's comfortable beside him. Not quite brushing up against him but not quite maintaining the space between them, either.]

Clive, then.

There was a tradition we had when I was a girl. If you could catch a mote of light and blow it like a kiss to the moon, whatever you wish would come true, but only if it falls into place beside her.

[There are several motes in the air in front of them both, and the princess takes great care in choosing between them, letting so many pass it may seem like she doesn't intend to catch one at all. When a brilliantly red one rises from the sand, though, she's quick to grasp it in the cage of her palms, peeking inside to make sure it's there. Satisfied, she looks into those blue, blue eyes of his and fondly smiles.]

I remember making such a wish once for someone's safe return. It took a great deal of time, but...

[But what? Her thoughts trail off, so instead she simply holds her hands out to him, prepared to give him the mote.]

Would you like to go first, or should I?

[ He thinks at first to tell her that she should make her wish and let him follow in her example, but he stops himself and considers how that might make her feel. There's an eagerness in her expression, so soft and sweet, and after a moment he nods once, cupping his palms around hers so she can release the mote into his waiting hands.

Once she's done that, he waits and watches her a moment longer. ]

Catch another one for yourself. We'll release them together.

[ Even if it takes a while for her to pick out another one that suits her exacting criteria, he will wait patiently. ]

Should the wish be spoken aloud, or will that stop the magic working?

[The princess pauses, though only for a moment, and with no dimming of the light about her. Casting their wishes together hadn't occurred to her, but she finds herself liking the thought very much. With a nod, she begins her search anew, scanning the sky until another red mote appears before her – which happens much more quickly this time. She grabs it just as easily as she did the first, then holds it in front of her, triumphant.]

I don't think the magic's picky, so long as the wish comes from your heart.

[Here, she tilts her head to the side, studying the moon before choosing how and where to hold her outstretched hands.]

I've already got mine. Once you're sure of yours, blow it to the moon and I shall join you.

[ It would be untrue to say Clive had no wishes of his own. He wished for many things. He wished Jill remembered him, most immediately, but he also wished that Joshua were here, and he wished for the safety and happiness of his friends in his absence, and, perhaps more selfishly, he wished he could simply live a normal life, free of all the responsibilities that came with being the one everyone looked to for help, or to lead them.

Here, though, in this place, in this moment, there is only one thing he wants. ]

I wish that your wish comes true.

[ And then he takes a deep breath and opens his palm, doing as Jill has instructed and blowing the mote out and over the water. ]

[She'd thought her heart had been warmed to its limits, but Clive's wish proves otherwise as a new wave of warmth works its way through her. There's no surprise behind that feeling, though; no drive to push him to wish on his own behalf. Her heart, after all, beats to a similar rhythm. His happiness is hers.

Quickly, before his mote can travel off too far ahead, she gives him a playful kind of smile, then follows suit.]

Then, I wish for you to spend less time in armour, and more time getting to live on your own terms.

[Because that armour can't be comfortable, for one, but also because even without her memories, the princess knows that his shoulders were built for hoisting the world upon them, and his heart was made to oblige, and he, too, needs the space to spread his wings.

With opened palms, she blows the mote towards where his moves through the air. The two of them swirl around each other for a bit before uniting into one globe of light that rises higher and higher and higher until it's taken its rightful place sentinel to the moon.

What follows happens in the course of a few brief moments.

The sky becomes a dreary thing, grey and cloudy, with just a few scant rays of moonlight making their way through. There's a crack in the distance, a roar, followed by the appearance of a massive blue crystal. It doesn't linger there long before exploding into a cloud of dust that coats the night sky, rendering everything black.

Everything, that is, except for a tiny jar bobbing in the sea, lit up as if holding a dozen fireflies.

The princess rises to her feet, trance-like, serene, then makes her way into the water. With one hand, she bunches up her skirts so they don't get wet; with the other, she reaches down to take the jar. She opens it once she's back on shore, and as soon as she does the light in the jar shoots to the moon, and the dust dissipates, and the clouds retreat to let the sky hang clear above them once again.

She remains still, however, moving only to look up at the moon, watching as the red motes fade in an all-too-familiar way.]

[ Jill’s wish does not fail to bring a soft smile to Clive’s lips, even as he shakes his head in wry amusement; how is it that even without her memory of him to inform her choices, she still uses her wish on him rather than herself. He supposes that some things never change. ]

These are my terms, my lady. If there is aught I know of myself or my place in the world, it is that I belong at your side.

[ For what good are wings if you have nowhere to roost? Even if he could fly free, he would always return to her at the end of the day. Besides, the armor might not be comfortable but it still suits him—it allows him to protect the people he loves, to protect her.

He’s on his feet the moment their environment begins to change, and Torgal beside him with his hackles raised at the sudden noise. Origin is there, floating ominously in the once-tranquil sky, but it’s gone almost as soon as it appears, taking with it all the lingering light of the stars and the moon.

Jill stands next, and he’s ready to act at a moment’s notice, but Clive doesn’t try to stop her from picking up the jar and opening it. As the sky clears, he begins to relax again, but she goes on in silence, and he finds that he dislikes it. What is she thinking? Is she all right? He approaches her and reaches out to touch her shoulder. ]

My lady…?

[At first, Jill wonders if she's simply dreamed this whole experience. Wonders if she's back on that balcony at the Hideaway, willing Metia to shine as brightly as before, so desperate for hope that she left her heart wide open to despair.

There's sand beneath her feet, though, not wood, and the sea moves at an intensity that Lake Bennumere lacked the night when the sky returned and Clive and Joshua and Dion did not. She still wears the gown. She still feels the way the princess had every single time that Clive treated her with tender fondness. He was so kind, so soft that she didn't need to remember him to know that the last words he spoke were true: he belongs at her side, and she belongs at his.

But this is a land of dreams, rife with a kind of magic that she understands less now than she did before. In a place like this, she doesn't know where to lay her faith, or how to separate reality from fantasy. She's quiet, and she's still, and she's distant because she's not ready to face the possibility that she'll turn around and look into the face of another hapless actor in this two-person play, upon whom the magic had cast the form of the love of her life.

Even his hand on his shoulder and his voice in her ear – both devastatingly familiar – aren't quite enough to keep the doubt at bay. But she is no coward, and she refuses to hide from the truth ever again, so she swallows down as much as she can and takes a pragmatic approach.]

Who are you, really? Please, speak your truths.

[Spoken without a hint of accusation. If anything, her tone brims with hope. The only part of her that doesn't already know the answer is the part of her that's scared of losing him once again.]

[ Her apprehension is understandable, entirely because this place is impossible to easily comprehend. Clive has already given up trying; he's always been a man of action more than anything, but it's clear in this case that Jill is going to need him to speak the words that are in his heart.

Stepping around her in the wet sand, he kneels before her and presses his hand to his heart. His face, lifted to look upon her, is as sincere as it has ever been. Even if he could conceal how lovestruck he is, he wouldn't want to--he needs her to see him for who he really is. ]

Aught that I have hitherto spoken to you is my truth, for I know nothing truer than this: wherever the wending roads of this life or the one thereafter take me, I shall ever return to you. I shall protect you and be your faithful companion for as long as you'll have me. I would see you smile if it is in my power, but I will be the one to wipe away your tears when you must weep.

[ Reaching for her hands, he clasps them in his own. ]

I am Clive Rosfield, First Shield of Rosaria, and though my service is sworn to another, my heart belongs to you, my lady... Jill.

[Jill can't help but smile as Clive speaks with a love so rich and so pure that it makes her cheeks bloom pink in the moonlight. And as they continue to gaze upon each other, her smile grows in radiance until her entire face lights up to match its brightness. How could she ever forget a man so wonderful? How could she think, even for a moment, that there's a power in this universe good enough and strong enough to create anything better than a pale imitation of him?

That he will always return to her should be an impossible promise, too romantic in notion to be something concrete, and yet it's one of the simplest truths Jill knows. She's held it in her heart ever since she was a girl, when she first came to see his place in her life as being akin to how dawn always follows the night, and all he's done is prove it ever since.

With her hands still clasped in his, she lifts them gently upwards – not to free herself, but rather to encourage him back to his feet.]

Then bring your heart closer to mine, Clive. Let me hold you again.

[There's a break in her voice that not even she can hide. She's not far enough removed from being entrenched in the fear she'd never see him again to not be awestruck that he's here with her in a different world, well and whole, even if she knows it's not as simple as that. If the magic here can take the sickness from Joshua's lungs, then it can breathe life into Clive's.

For now, though, she lets that thought fall to the wayside. They have time here. More than they've ever had before. And in this moment, all she wants is to enjoy being near him again, knowing that for once, there's nothing looming on the horizon besides a rising sun.]

[ Watching Jill's face light up is like watching the sun rise--almost too beautiful and brilliant to look upon with naked eyes--but Clive watches her with something like hope kindling in his heart because he cannot look away. The way she's looking at him now... something has changed.

He rises with her gentle prompting, and his breath catches in his throat at what she says next. ]

Again...?

[ Does she know him? Does she remember? He says her name like a verse from a holy text, soft and reverent, and his vision blurs momentarily as unshed tears well in his eyes. He laughs then--when was the last time that happened?--and scoops her unceremoniously into his arms, spinning her on the glittering beach and pressing his lips to hers with all the enthusiasm of a man reunited with a lover he thought he would never have the chance to kiss again. ]

[When Clive laughs, so does Jill, joy and relief and surprise ringing through her like a choir of bells as he lifts her off her feet. She wraps her arms around his neck at first to steady herself, and then to lift herself into the kiss, which she returns with the very same enthusiasm, grazing a prayer for eternity against his lips and receiving the warmth of his breath against her skin like a blessing.

Returned to her hearth, her home, her eyes burn with the warmth of unbridled happiness, and she can only hold her tears back for so long before they begin to spill. Even so, she continues to kiss him until she can't anymore, breaking away with a hitched yet happy sigh, then burying her face against his neck as she grounds herself in his presence.]

Sorry. [A little laugh at her own expense.] I'm just so glad to see you.

[Thrilled, really. Ecstatic. Overjoyed. There's nowhere in the universe she'd rather be than in his arms; no one who she'd rather be with, alone on a peaceful beach, witnessed only by the stars and the moon and the motes of light twirling in the air around them.]

Thank you for always staying by my side, even when I'm not myself.

[ If Jill doesn’t know by now that there is nothing he would not do for her, he is certainly not a skilled enough wordsmith to convey that fact to her, but she knows. He knows that she knows. He has found her again in a land of dreams, beyond even death’s ability to separate them; what else could he do—what could any man possibly do to give further proof of his love and devotion? He could swear his life to her, swear to protect and comfort her through life’s toils and travails, swear devotion beyond reckoning—a love so fierce and true that it would live on long after the truth of their lives and their struggles faded from history—and it still would not be enough.

… But it would be a start, wouldn’t it?

Spinning her once again, he holds her close in the moonlight, and his cheeks glisten with shed tears. He looks up at her with something like awe, like an adherent gazes with worship upon a goddess made flesh. She is everything in the world that is pure and beautiful, and he speaks without an ounce of reserve or hesitation. ]

Marry me.

[ But oh, that isn’t enough, is it? ]

What I mean to say is… that I would not presume to ask you to be mine, because you are yours and yours alone. But I would ask you to be with me, now and forevermore, because you have chosen me, and I you. Be with me, Jill, imperfect as I am. Be my wife. Please.

[Of course Jill knows; she knows it with absolute perfect clarity. Still, Clive's devotion to her never grows any less overwhelming in the very best of ways, and her gratitude for that – for him – will never know bounds. The years haven't been kind to either of them, and they've both been fractured in far too many ways, but everything they've endured has only made their bond unbreakably strong. Apart, they're incomplete; together, they fit so well that they form a cohesive whole.

Jill's never questioned this. She's never wondered whether they'll each remain by the other's side until the end. As she'd said to him on that other beach, on that other night, beneath a different moon, whatever he does and whoever he becomes, she will remain a constant in his life, forever by his side.

Words escape her at first, if only because she knows that this proposal confesses so much more than love and unity. It's a declaration that their struggles are over, and they're done carrying a dying world, and now it's finally, finally their time to simply exist, and that, too, is overwhelming. It's everything she ever wanted. And it will be hers – theirs – with a single word that she's all too happy to speak.

Reflex guides her to reach for his tears and catch them upon her thumb; love finds her continuing to caress his face afterwards, while her mind still struggles to catch up to her heart. When she does speak, it feels like a miracle that she can get it all out without sobbing.]

Yes, Clive. Yes, I'll marry you. There's much I need to figure out about myself, but there's one thing I hold true without any doubt at all: that I was born to be with you, and you to be with me, and so we shall be until our last dawn.

[Here, she moves to kiss him, but she can't. Emotion overtakes her once more, and she presses her forehead to his instead, feeling free enough, and safe enough, and sure enough to let everything everything come out.]

[ Noses bumping gently, Clive follows Jill's example, weeping with unfettered joy, unashamed of his tears. Their war is over, the fighting is done, and he can finally be the man she deserves to have by her side, who can devote himself to loving her instead of living day-by-day in the shadow of death. It's what she deserves. Perhaps, it's even what they've earned.

He sits the pair of them back down on his cape, holding her securely in his warm embrace until their tears are utterly exhausted. It's only then that he reaches for his throat, feeling for something and looking distinctly relieved when he finds it's still there. Ducking his head slightly, he pulls a long silver chain out from under his breastplate. At the end of that chain, dangles a silver moonstone ring, the stone flashing blue and peach and yellow in the light of the moon. It almost looks enchanted, wreathed in leaves of glittering white.

He'd wanted to give it to her ages ago, had it made just for her by a silversmith in Dalimil before he took her to see the field of flowers in Oriflamme. She didn't want to stay in the Twins, though, and who could blame her? There was nothing but death and regret here, and she deserved better. She deserved to go somewhere she could be free of the past, though he was uncertain then if he could follow given the tasks he had yet to accomplish.

He offers it to her now. His ring. His heart. His life. ]

This is for you. May I?

[It's amazing, she thinks, how every time they bare themselves before each other in new ways, the feeling that washes over her is simply comfort. There's no sense of being exposed, no concern over how she'll be received. And none of the dread instilled in her by the Iron Kingdom rises to detach her from the moment. No, here in Clive's arms, all Jill knows is a peace so fulfilling that it casts her in a tingling warmth.

When he sits them down, she shifts so she can hold his head to her chest. Like this, she strokes his hair with a gentleness to rival that of the sea breeze while their tears bring them a sense of catharsis that she's never felt to such depths.

And to think, it's only just the beginning.

Curiosity takes over as Clive pulls the chain out from under his armour; then, as the ring catches the moonlight, realisation strikes her with a force that stays her next breath. He's been planning this long enough to have a ring made – he's been wanting it deep enough to wear that ring around his neck. It's no surprise, but it brings her great pleasure all the same.

The next time he meets her eyes, he'll see nothing but the purest love and a look of delight that puts the joy she'd known in their childhood to shame. The only reason she doesn't start crying afresh is because she's well and truly spent.

She raises her hand. Offers it to him with the ease of an inevitability.]

Please do.

[ He has to take his gauntlets off for this, casting them aside so he's able to work the clasp of the chain open and slide the ring into his palm. Taking Jill's hand, he slides the ring carefully onto her dainty finger and admires it for a moment, thinking of all the things it represents.

He kisses her hand again, reverent, then looks up at her face; his eyes are red, cheeks still wet with tears, though he can scarcely recall a time in the last twenty years when he's smiled like this. He loves her so much that he feels it sometimes like a physical ache, but it's the most pleasant kind of pain he could imagine.

Torgal, who has been seated a few yards away to allow his humans their moment, has clearly reached the limit of his patience now, barking and trotting up to the pair to demand the pats and scratches he is due, and Clive obliges. ]

I don't understand this place, but we're together. That's what matters most. I only wish our family could share in this joy.

[Once the ring is in its proper place, Jill, too, gazes upon it with reverence as the motes continue flitting about in the air between her and Clive, their light bringing even more colour to the moonstone.]

It's beautiful. Thank you.

[She couldn't have picked a better symbol of their love; it's simply perfect. He's perfect. Beautiful in his own right as the moon brings a twinkle to his tear-kissed cheeks and his smile casts him aglow in a light she hasn't seen in entirely too long. And though the red around his eyes isn't the shade she usually associates him with, it suits him all the same. Happiness suits him.

As it suits Torgal, who's certainly pleased to be back by Clive's side. Jill is equally quick to meet the wolf's demands, giving him a little scritch under his chin, grateful that he always seems to find them both exactly when they need him to.

At Clive's words, her eyes widen with something akin to enthusiasm, and her lips part as if she's about to say something – but whatever thought she had fades every bit as quickly as it arose, and all she's left with is a sense of haziness obfuscating her memories of her first day here – the one she spent with another member of their family. A residual effect of the spell, she's sure, though that's hardly a comfort so she shakes the feeling away rather than confronting it head-on.]

Me too. The others as well.

[A pause. Or rather, a hesitation. As happy as this moment is, it was preceded by one of the worst of her life, and she can't pretend otherwise. Not entirely.]

I do hope we'll get to share it with them one day, but if we don't – [if their time here is the last she'll ever spend with him] – I'm glad we have this.

[There's a threat of more tears burning behind her eyes, and she looks down at her ring, hoping it might serve as a balm.]

It really is beautiful.

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{ once upon a fairytale }

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