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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[ 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....... ]

[ he laughs, and it helps, but his comment after is far more sobering. alisaie's smile fades, her eyes that had been following the movement of his hand now lifting to his face.

he does not need to spell it out, no, but still it makes her heart sink into her stomach a little. is this.. a kind, gentle way of turning her down? ]

You can.

[ she answers, boldly, and her face flushes anew for it, because they both know what it is that they are talking about now, that it is far more than either of them ever thought to offer. ]

There are.. many ways to love a person.

[ he may not be whole, but that does not matter to her. he has eyes for looking upon her, he has hands for touching her, and a body to press near. however equipped he may or may not be for traditional lovemaking, there are plenty of ways to touch someone, to love someone. ]

[ Her response is so simple, and yet so suggestive, and he flushes with heat, his eyes falling closed for a moment. His imagination can be so godsdamned visceral sometimes. Could they...really make this work?

...Wait, gods, what is he thinking? What is she saying? Is she...suggesting that there is truly a future for them? Together? Could she really...love him?

Is that what she's saying?

The thought alone is dizzying, and it seems to take him to a moment beyond this one, where everything is back to normal, where the curse is broken and the castle is truly alive again, and Alisaie is with him, at his side, loving him —

But — n-no. It cannot be, can it? Such things are not meant for him. That's...that's why he was cursed with this form in the first place, wasn't it? To make him the little tin man he always saw himself as. ]

A-Alisaie, I...I-I...I don't...deserve this. [ His gaze falls, his grip on his charcoal tight enough that it snaps in his hand. ] I d-don't deserve you.

[ all at once the atmosphere is broken - the magic and the heat, the longing that has been building not only this night, but over several long weeks - it all dissolves in an instant when that charcoal snaps in his palm.

alisaie's throat tightens, and she suddenly feels very.. silly, and exposed. giving herself to him like this, she has offered everything, everything she has to give, her heart and her body and her companionship, and still he is pushing it away. he led her here. he asked her to this dinner, he asked her to dance, and now he is backing out? he is telling her no when it took so very much for her to bear her heart to him? he is turning her down when he was the one who brought them here?

a shiver runs down her spine, and alisaie swallows thickly, her arms moving instinctively over her breasts to hide herself, her gaze flickering away. ]

That is not for you to decide.

[ she says gently, but firmly, and there is no hiding the disappointment in her voice. ]

That is for me to -

[ something catches her eye. a flicker, a bright light beyond the terrace, an unnatural glow on the horizon that fills her with a quiet but immediate dread. ]

What is that..?

[ quickly, alisaie is sitting up, snatching her dressing gown from the floor and wrapping it around her body while she hurries toward the terrace, and in the distance she sees it, her fears culminated. it is far off, but the blaze on the horizon can be only one thing - a fire in the town, large and strong enough to be quite visible from even this distance, lighting up the night sky in ferocious orange and red. ]

[ The argument withers and dies in his throat as she rebukes him, but not because she has convinced him so easily. As far as he is concerned, there just isn't...anything to argue about. How could she possibly believe that? He kept her here against her will. He made her a prisoner. He is a broken man — no, not even a man, but a machine, twisted and made to live in this body for years far longer than he should have. He had all but turned to rust before she arrived, and there's no doubt that she has changed him, that she has healed him — but love? How could she love him, with how worthless he is? How could she give herself to him like this, when he has kept her from living her life?

In the end, she'll realize the truth. She'll come to this same conclusion. He's just...trying to point out the obvious.

But before either of them can say anything else, Alisaie draws attention to the town beyond the forest, her town, where a large, foreboding column of smoke rises up, the telltale signs of flames set upon the horizon.

Oh. Oh no.

He speaks without thinking, even as his head dips down, knowing in an instant what this means, but she must do, and what he must to in return. ]

...Go. Th-they'll need the help of a powerful mage.

[ And she will need to make sure her brother is safe. She...she should go. She should have gone long ago. ]

[ for all that she might have been angry and disappointed a few moments ago, it is all overwhelmed by a cold wash of fear as she watches the town burn. it isn't a small fire, but a large enough one to be seen from the castle, large enough that many lives could be in danger - her brother could be in danger.

what could she possibly do from here? how can she help him?

and then prompto says what, in retrospect, she will see as inevitable, but in the moment is as shocking as a tub of icewater upended down her back. ]

.. go?

[ what is he saying? he cannot be freeing her, not when so much hinges on her presence here. she knows by now how much he worries for the castle and all who live there, how much of her imprisonment is not necessarily a punishment for her, but what he sees as protection for them. that he would allow her to go and help..

.. surely that is all he means. he must expect her to come back, yes? he isn't giving her her freedom, only leave to attend to the fire. that must be all that he means. turning from the window, alisaie clutches at the front of her robe, her eyes fixed on his face, hesitant and uncertain. ]

What are you saying?

[ It takes no small amount of willpower and courage, but at last he looks back up into her face, his expression plainly pained and grieved, no matter how limited his automaton features might be. This is exactly the moment he's feared so much, but one he knew was always inevitable all the same. He could never keep her here forever, whether she wound up running away or he set her free. his moment was always due to come. But that knowledge makes it no easier to face the prospect that she will leave and likely never return. Why would she come back? After all the time he has taken from her, why would she willingly place herself in his company once again?

No, he is destined to be alone. He has always been destined to be alone. That's what makes this curse so cruel — it is unbreakable, all by the chains around his own heart.

He may not be human, but it still not easy to find his voice, to encourage it to be more than a croak against the wave of turmoil he only just holds at bay. He will break down inevitably, but he must wait to do it until she is gone. ]

...What I should have said long ago. You...you're free, Alisaie. Go.

[ He can trust her to keep this castle's secrets now, and that's the last thing he will ask of her, should she leave now and never return again. ]

[ you're free.

for all that she is panicked with fear and all but chomping at the bit to rush to her home, to her brother, those simple words still take her aback. he has softened toward her, grown warmer, kinder, but still she had never expected that he would release her in any real, official capacity, that he would trust her to keep the secrets of this place.

but she will keep them. not only for him, but for the others as well, for the many who live here, the good people who were caught in this unfortunate curse. the world would not understand this place.. it would not understand them, and she could not abide anything terrible happening to any of them, not when they have been so good and kind to her. she will be back. she must come back. she cannot leave things like this.

but for now.. for now her brother needs her.

snapping from her disbelieving trance, alisaie moves forward at last, and folds the cover over the drawing he has made for her, pressing it into his hands. it is for him to keep. she had not expected him to need a token to remember her by for many long years, but still.. he should have it now. with her free hand, alisaie takes his jaw in her palm, leaning her brow to his and pressing a warm, lingering kiss to the crest of his cheek, the metal cool and smooth beneath her lips. this is not how she had hoped this night would end. ]

.. thank you.

[ and then she is gone. ]

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batb part two: electric boogaloo

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