fearlessly | batb part two: electric boogaloo

batb part two: electric boogaloo

[ alisaie is not afraid of the woods.

truthfully, alisaie is not afraid of much at all - not the things that most are afraid of, at least. she does not fear the dark, or wolves, or bandits. she does not fear loud storms or knives in the dark of faerie tale monsters stalking haunted forests. what she fears is being along. grieving. losing those she loves.

and that is why she is here. alisaie has ridden tirelessly through the night, driving baptiste hard over the hard, wintry earth, her breath frozen in her lungs, the frigid wind stinging her cheeks and ears and eyes. alphinaud is her entire world. he is all that she has, all of her family that remains, and the thought of living her life without him, moving forward alone..

she would rather not move forward at all.

and so she will find him, regardless of he consequence, heedless of the potential danger, for without him, she has no life at all.

baptiste remembers the way, and though she can feel the tension and fear in the body of the horse beneath her, still they press on, hooves slamming hard into the earth, empty branches pulling at her hair, whipping over their heads. the forest seems to go on and on, deeper and deeper into darkness and mist, until at long, long last the space opens up, and a dark castle looms ahead, its twisted spires climbing into the gray sky, its gloomy edifice frowning down as she approaches the wrought iron gates choked with decayed vines.

alisaie is not afraid of much, yet still the sight of it sends a chill down her spine.

what is this place? she's heard of no such estate as this - a castle, so close to the village? how have there been no stories? no history? she has ridden less than a day to find her brother, not far from home at all, and yet.. there is nothing in their books about this great castle, no tall tales, nothing at all. it is a phantom. still, somehow it feels familiar to her.. like a memory of a dream's dream.

exhaling a shudder, alisaie slides from baptiste's back, leading him to an icy, overgrown brook for a drink, looping the reins over a strong, bare branch before at last she approaches the castle. it's silent, sinister, but she.. she has no choice. if this is where alphinaud is, then she must press forward. the rusted gates groan, splitting the silence, and alisaie approaches the great doors, the old rotten oak swinging beneath her weight as she slips carefully into the great, dark foyer. ]

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[ It's truly a spectacular sight, the ballroom lit up and cleaned and adorned in such a way that he hasn't seen in gods only know how long. When this is all over, he is going to have to take the time to thank each and every one of the staff individually for all the hard work that went into making tonight special. He simply could not have done it without them, and he knows full well just how much this means to all of them as well.

Which means he must give it his all as well, that he must do everything he can to break this spell, that he must...lay his heart bare before this girl in front of him, curtsying as the music cues up.

Still trembling, he bends at the middle, greeting her in a formal bow. He doesn't creak or groan, and there's no pain from the gesture. He can appreciate how far he has come, too, especially now, when they are surrounded by such liveliness, when he feels an ardent need to live life to its fullest. ]

My lady. May I have this dance?

[ He stretches out his hand for her to take, as the music begins to swell. (There's an orchestra now.) ]

[ wow that string quartet sure sounds like an orchestra!! this castle is amazing.

a waltz, though - all right, that's easy enough. alisaie.. definitely shirked off more than one of her dancing lessons when she was young, but she can manage a waltz without too much worry. ]

You may.

[ slipping her hand into his offered one, alisaie draws near and slides her other arm over his broad shoulders. he's quite a bit taller than her, so she can only reach so far, but that does not seem to matter to either of them. they begin to move, to dance, and suddenly everything else is falling away - her anxiety and fear, her worry that she might not remember how to dance, her awkwardness.

this is simple. this is easy. ]

[ It has been years and years since Prompto has had any occasion to dance, and even when he did, he wasn't exactly...good at it. But he's been practicing, asking some of the servants to fill in and help him with his footwork, and so fortunately, he won't be stepping on her toes (thankfully, as that would no doubt be extremely painful). His not exactly graceful, but once they get into the swing of it, it becomes much easier to just...fall into the rhythm of the music, and move in tandem with her. For how different in height the two of them are, it's surprisingly easy to dance with her, like some how...they just fit together.

So they dance. He leads her in this simple waltz, leading her into a spin when he has the chance, before drawing her back into his arms. He feels warm and breathless, his smile unwavering. ]

I thought you said you didn't attend your dance lessons.

[ He wouldn't guess as much, with the graceful way she moves. But then again, she could probably be tromping around and he would still find it graceful and lovely. ]

[ yeah tbh she could fall on her face and he'd think her graceful and lovely.

actually he'd probably laugh at her. but still. to her credit, alisaie is far more elegant than i often give her credit for, even if it is usually on the battlefield with her rapier, rather than on the ballroom in soft pink slippers, but nevertheless even if she is a little rusty, once she finds her comfort zone everything is easy. she's no longer fixated on the steps and which needs come next, but instead simply.. dancing. with him. enjoying the music, and the movement.

her laugh is easy as she sweeps into a spin beneath his arm, her skirts flaring against the shining parquet floor, before she's moving in close to him again. ]

I had to attend some, or my mother would have skinned me alive. I only skipped as many as I could get away with..

[ She pulls near again, and he smiles, he smiles so easily in away that not so long ago he would have thought impossible. And to be honest, a lot about this still seems impossible. Not that she could become dear to him, because Prompto has always been able to easily form attachments to others, but rather that he could become dear to her. It's too good to be true. He doesn't deserve. And yet, when they are here together like this, he cannot deny what he feels in his heart, what he knows to be true. ]

Heh...you've always one things your own way, haven't you?

[ She's such an individual. He certainly has never met anyone like her before. Someone so sweet and clever and brave and wonderful. ]

[ ..well, individual is certainly one way to describe her. alisaie's cheeks flush pink and she drops her gaze, dark lashes fluttering against her cheeks. ]

I suppose so, much to the chagrin of my family.

[ she admits, looking sheepish, her gaze flicking back up to his face almost demurely. ]

I hardly act as a well bred young lady should, after all.

[ he has seen her stuff croissants down her mouth and throw snowballs into his face. he sure knows how she... is. ]

[ Boy, does he know it, but Prompto has never put much stock into well-bred behavior, anyway. What's important is that she's comfortable being herself, and...that's something he admires about her, something he struggled with himself, for so very, very long. ]

Maybe not, but you act just the way that Alisaie should.

[ His smile hooks in one corner, as he squeezes her hand gently within his own. ]

Besides, I like you just the way you are.

[ And then, a moment passing, he catches himself— ]

N-not that that...should matter! I'm just...adding my voice.

[ alisaie's chuckle is warm and fond, the hint of tight anxiety in her expression ebbing immediately. ]

No, no it's all right. It's.. nice to hear someone say that.

[ because no, alisaie does not necessarily need or want anyone's approval to be who she is, it is nonetheless.. very refreshing to hear. all her life she was so often told that she needed to be something else, that she had to fit herself into this little box that was what was expected of her, and that was difficult. she's too wild.

he is, in fact, one of the very few people in her life that has ever said such a thing to her. that has accepted her for who and what she is without trying to mild her to fit whatever standards they might impose. for all their relationship has been strange and tumultuous, this is not something that she has forgotten. ]

[ As with her, his nerves ebb away all but immediately. He hasn't overstepped some invisible boundary, and he's glad for it. The music falls into a lull between numbers, and Prompto lifts his hand from her waist to gently brush over her cheek. ]

You deserve to hear it, and so much more, with...with every breath I have.

[ He owes her so much, and there may be no way he could ever pay her back, but at the very least, he can reaffirm what he sees in her, how very special she is. Why does he get the feeling that she isn't used to hearing it? How could anyone not appreciate her for who she is?

It's just so plain to him. ]

[ his cool fingers touch her cheek, and alisaie feels the heat rising to her face, flushing her ears, but she can only smile. for all her independent streak might sound romantic and wild and exciting, it isn't always so inspiring. she can be stubborn, impatient, and reckless.. and he's certainly seen it, all the bad that comes along with her willful nature.

yet still he accepts it, and encourages it. it makes her heart swell with warmth in her breast.

the music slows now, and alisaie says nothing, because words could not suffice as easily as actions could. so instead she leans in close, and rests her head against the crook of his shoulder, her fingers weaving more closely through his own as they move, her eyes fluttering shut. ]

[ For a moment, he worries that he's said too much, that he is making himself too transparent by speaking to her in such a way, but...she must have surmised the truth for herself by now, right? She must know how he feels about her. He didn't ask her here tonight as a friend, only, and he is all but confessing his feelings for her by saying things like that.

But...instead of draw away or look bashful, she only draws nearer, the next song quiet and melodic and romantic. His throat feels tight with emotion and nerves, but his arms move carefully around Alisaie to keep her close, his cheek turning to rest atop her head.

And instead of saying anything else, he simply...dances with her, and holds her, and wills this moment to last forever and ever and ever. ]

[ of course it cannot last forever and ever.

but it can last a good long while indeed. they dance into the night, they dance until her legs ache and her feet are sore and she cannot think to stand for another moment, though if it were up to her she would continue on and on. there is something so magical about this night, so special, its energy fills her up from the inside out and she knows intrinsically that this is a memory that she will carry with her for the rest of her life, no matter where she goes from here. she will remember how they danced, and how he smiled, and how her hand felt in his.

the night grows late without seeking their permission, however, and soon the night sky beyond the vaulting windows is black as ink and bright with stars. the music slows, and stops, and at last they withdraw together to the tall terrace outside the west wing, overlooking the forest, and in the far distance, the town beyond. the air is cool and fresh, and the view is perfect.

exhaling in a soft sigh, alisaie sits at last on the stone bench beside him, her hands curled in her lap almost nervously. ]

I have.. a request of you.

[ They've been going for hours, and although he might not tire, he knows she must be wearing out, no matter how much she might be enjoying herself. And, inexplicably...she does seem to be enjoying herself, but after a certain amount of time, he just has to accept that. He can no longer be dismayed by it. Alisaie enjoys her time with him. She enjoys being near him and speaking with him and touching him. She has made herself clear.

So there are no linger fears or doubts in his heart as they at last retire, and he leads her back through her quarters, which are much more in order than the first time she visited this place. It still looks messy and lived-in, but less in a way of accumulated despair and more in a way of joyful life. They move out onto the terrace, the air cool yet inviting, and they sit on the bench, watching the stars and sky the night before them.

Not that Prompto can really look at much else besides Alisaie tonight.

That's why he's quick to respond when she addresses him, and doesn't miss the slight hesitation in her voice. Is this...when she asks him if she can go home? Gods, why hasn't he told her she can leave whenever she likes yet? ]

Yes, Alisaie?

[ Regardless of what she asks him, he will do his best to fulfill her request. ]

[ she is certainly visibly nervous for reasons that are not yet readily apparent, but she should not hesitate any longer. this is something she wants. a step she wants to take.

theirs is an incredibly complex relationship by anyone's standards. it does not escape either of them that he is still, in essence, her jailer, that he imprisoned her here against her will. she has not forgotten that, and neither has he.

and yet still.. she loves him. they are so different in every way, she does not know how to even begin to live a life with one such as him, or even if he wants it just as she does - for of course she has her doubts. she is so unlike him, after all, and if the clues he has scattered are any indication, he is far older than he might appear. he is not a man, after all, but a machine, built to last the ages; what is her lifetime but a flash in the pan, however long-lived elezen may be? but the connection between them exists nonetheless, neither of them can ignore it. not any longer.

at last she looks into his face. ]

I would like for you to.. draw me. A portrait. Here, and now.

[ she asks, her fingers curling around themselves. ]

Would that be possible?

[ No, the reasons for her nervousness are certainly not readily apparent, and the contrast of her behavior with the request she makes. She seems so hesitant, so uncertain, and yet all she asks of him is for him to draw her. Maybe it's not a request she has made before, but it certainly isn't the first time he's drawn her, both in and out of her presence. Nonplussed, he blinks, repeating the words back to himself in his head to make sure he hasn't missed something.

A moment later, he nods, though it's clear from his perplexed expression that he still does not understand. ]

Yes, of course. I would love to. Give me just a moment to grab some parchment.

[ Brow still furrowed, he rises to move just inside the door to gather his supplies, before turning to the terrace to set up shop. ]

[ of course he agrees, as she had expected he would, yet still her heart thumps wildly against her ribs. she stands, and watches him, worrying her fingers together, and when he turns back to the terrace she very nearly thinks to talk herself out of it, to allow him to simply draw her here, like this, as he expects to.

instead she swallows thickly, and steps forward. ]

Let me get changed, first. I want to be.. myself.

[ while her gown is lovely and her hair is shining, right now she is a picture of herself at her best, as an icon, a snapshot of her features enhanced and perfected. she would prefer to shed those layers, to wipe away the paint on her face and discard the sparkling trinkets in her hair, to leave him with an image of her that is.. her, fully, completely. ]

I'll be just a moment.

[ and, gathering her skirts, she dismisses herself.

it takes some time for her to return - long enough perhaps that he might think she may not return at all - but it takes a good deal of time to step out of such extravagant clothing, to brush and braid her hair over her shoulder, and to stand before the mirror and talk herself into finding the courage she needs to leave her rooms again.

but leave them she does, moving quietly on bare feet back to the west wing, back to his chambers, wrapped comfortably now in a soft silk robe. ]

I kept you waiting, I'm sorry.

[ Alisaie leaves him as perplexed as he was when she first made her request of him, and it's only in her absence that he begins to realize what her nerves may be about. The longer it takes for her to return, the more sure he becomes. The reason she had been so nervous is because...she must be planning to leave. If not tonight, then soon, her time here drawing to a close. But regardless of when, she intends to go, and she wants him to have something to remember her by, to look on when she leaves.

It's...sweet and thoughtful of her, and really, more than he rightly deserves from her, after how long he's kept her here. Still, the thought alone ties his stomach into anxious knots, the thought of her leaving the castle and him being alone once again intensifying with every moment that it takes her to return.

...So his confusion only multiplies when she returns in a robe, of all things.

Normally, he might be bashful about seeing her so underdressed, but it's so unexpected that it catches him completely off-guard and leaves him momentarily speechless as his eyes follow her reentry. Did she really just want to be more comfortable for this? She wasn't fond of the dress, no, but was it really that bad?

After a moment, he stutters out a response, picking up his charcoal, his easel already positioned in front of him. ]

N-no, it's alright, don't apologize. [ A soft laugh. ] You...you still look stunning, by the way.

.. thank you.

[ she says around a smile, her gaze dropping to the floor. bashfulness is a very uncommon color on her, but this - all of this - is so very.. new to her. alisaie has never had a suitor, not any who stood any chance, at least, and she has certainly never been in love before. this is entirely new territory, and complicated at that. but his kindness warms her. ]

Should I, um..

[ she gestures to the couch behind her. ]

.. here?

[ Oh — right, he should probably set this scene, shouldn't he? He's been so preoccupied with the meaning behind her request that he stumbles his way through a nod, motioning to the couch. ]

Right — right there is perfect. Feel...feel free to sit however you'd like.

[ If she'd like to lean back comfortable to go with her attire, that suits him just fine, too. This drawing will capture Alisaie just as she is — a young girl, a girl that he loves, no matter what she wears, or how she looks.

He loves her just like this. ]

[ all right. there.

she could sit just like this, she knows, in her dressing robe, with her braid, and he would draw her just as she is and never know what she had dared to think. she could escape her own plan without him being any the wiser for it.

but that is not what she wants. she is ready now, or at least as ready as she shall ever be - to give him everything that she can, to bare herself right down to the bone, to the soul. this night has been warm and perfect, thick with magic and an easy togetherness.. she has nothing to be worried about, nothing to fear, not from him. not tonight.

and so alisaie inhales deeply then carefully unties the knot at her waist, and though her fingers tremble she no longer hesitates. the silk opens, and she curls her fingers around the collar and peels it back, away from her body, the fabric rumpling like liquid into a heap at her feet. beneath it she is smooth and bare, the night air cool on her too-hot skin, and though she shivers with nerves her eyes remain on his as she reaches now to untie her braid, loosening her hair with her fingers until it tumbles wild and free.

only then does she seat herself, hesitating a moment before lying back, on her side. ]

[ It isn't until she begins to peel back her robe that it hits him, and even then...he can't quite wrap his mind around it. But whether or not he can comprehend it, it is unfolding right before his eyes. She is unfolding right before his eyes, stripping away the only thing that hides her body from him, and so soon it is gone, discarded on the ground, while Alisaie stands as an angel haloed in moonlight before him.

He draws in a sharp intake of breath, the charcoal nearly slipping from his fingers, his body burning in a way that is both unfamiliar and exciting all at once, as he looks upon her. As he sees her, all of her, in a way he has never seen anyone. She bares all to him, her shoulders and her waist, her breasts, her hips and legs, everything, and his mind whirs far too fast for him to keep up with. All that manages to escape him is a gentle: ]

Gods...

[ On the one hand, it's almost cruel. She has bared herself to him, and he wants her so badly — but there's nothing he can do about that, in the form he is in now. But still, he can...certainly enjoy looking upon her. Once he even comes to terms that he is looking upon her at all, that she chose to do this for him, on this most special of nights they have shared. ]

Alisaie... [ At last his gaze falls away, bashful, though he can still see her plain behind his eyelids, the perfect, warm shape of her body. ] A-are you sure?

[ He doesn't want to proceed unless she is absolutely, completely sure she is comfortable with this. Assuming he can even hold his hand steady enough to draw her, that is. ]

[ his reaction is what she would have expected, but it is nevertheless still overwhelming to behold. alisaie is not used to even being particularly liked by someone, let alone appreciated in the way he is appreciating her, wanted in the way he wants her. she is insecure enough still to worry that she might have thought wrong, that mayhaps he doesn't want her as she wants him, but even she cannot deny his reaction, the way his breath catches and his eyes wander, how his hand trembles holding the charcoal.

she almost wants to laugh, for how silly they both are, how they are nervous as children. ]

I am sure.

[ she says, and though her voice trembles there is no hesitation in her tone or words. she is certain. she is positive. no matter how or where they move forward from here, she wants this, now, tonight. ]

[ She is sure, and there isn't a note of doubt in her voice. So what can he do but oblige her request?

So his gaze lifts once more, drinking in the sight of her body, her skin, her shape, eyes only flickering to the side for as much as necessary to draw. Truthfully, he could probably draw her from memory now, because he couldn't possibly forget what she's shared with him, how special this moment is, but that would mean taking his eyes off her, and he is not wont to do that any more than is strictly necessary.

His hand flies across the paper, sketching her, all of her, while his eyes remain heavily lidded, appreciating every inch of her skin, his stomach tightening into knots brought on by an entirely different kind of catalyst. ]

You're beautiful...

[ He all but whispers, while his charcoal fills in the hollow of her collarbone, the dip of her stomach, the swell of her breasts and hips. ]

[ it's a strange thing for her, to pose for a portrait. nevermind the fact that she has stripped down, alisaie is simply not used to being the focal point of attention of any kind. she's always been perfectly happy to keep to the shadows, and growing up as she had, twin to a perfect prodigy of a brother, she was more often than not found lacking, and ignored in favor of him. alphinaud is smart and talented, but he is also friendly and sociable, he loves people, talking to them, meeting them, learning about them, it is only natural that she had been eclipsed.

she does not hold it against him, or her family; he can no more help the way he is than she can help the way she is, and honestly, his penchant for the spotlight kept it away from her, and she was fine with that. but it certainly makes the strength of prompto's attentions feel that much more pointed, his eyes sweeping over her body with purpose, yet.. she does not dislike it. for certain people, she does not mind allowing herself to shine, to be the point of their attentions, and she soon finds that - for however nerve-wracking it might be - she likes the way he looks at her.

she likes that he thinks she is beautiful. ]

You would say that to any young girl lying nude on your lounge.

[ alisaie says through a soft, teasing laugh, struggling (and failing) to keep a straight face for the sake of his portrait. ]

[ Her joke cuts some of the tension in the air between them — at least, the...non-sexual tension. She may have a point, but she doesn't have to point it out!!! Still, he chuckles right along with her, his disbelief still not fading. How is this real? How is it happening to him? Is it a dream?

But he doesn't sleep, and cannot dream. Impossible as it may seem, it is real. ]

Not important. I-I'm saying it to you!

[ let him compliment your hot naked bod plz?????

He falls quiet a moment, expression sobering somewhat. ]

For what it's worth, I...th-that is, I...I would, um, i-if I could...

[ Please understand what he's getting at without making him spell it out....... ]

batb part two: electric boogaloo

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