For a thousand years have I mourned my beloved, who gave her life to forge a peace thy king betrayed. Such was my lot, until a child of Ishgard came unto me. For want of warmth, she wrapped herself in a dream. Yet the world will remember her deeds. For truth, she fought. For justice, she sinned. For redemption, she sacrificed, and became as light. To follow one’s heart, to have faith in one’s convictions–be it for weal, or be it for woe. Such is the folly and the glory of man…and of dragon.
Hraesvelgr (via Vidofnir), about Ysayle Dangoulain (Lady Iceheart), Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward 3.1 - As Goes Light, So Goes Darkness.
That prompt about the cozy kidnapping sure does sound good for a villan!haurchefant
“Is this really necessary…?” You ask your supposed-to-be nemesis as he sets a cluttered tray on the foot of your bed.
Greystone looks you over with sharp blue eyes, dark glossed lips pulling down in a frown. “It is. Very much so. As you refuse to better care for yourself, it is up to us to take up the slack.”
You hunch down in your several layers of blankets. “Us?” You didn’t like the sound of that.
Greystone smiles, pushing a warm mug into your hands, the heat instantly helping your freezing fingers. Your nemesis so very warm, too, as he lingers with hands over yours. “Yes,” the villain nods, “Us. I cannot take all the credit. This is a team effort, after all.”
Your attention is drawn by a sudden sound, head turning to spy the sight of a familiar boot nudging the door open.
“Ger!” Greystone says brightly. “I trust you brought what I requested?”
“Yes, my lord,” Ger, The Lion, Greystone’s “most loyal knight”, and thorn number two in your side, replies. You cannot even see her face with the large stack of folded blankets and exra pillows she was carrying. What Greystone had requested, you’re guessing.
Your nemesis beams. “Very good!” And withdraws from you to assist the knight.
You find yourself further supplied with plump pillows, and even more blankets layered on your chilled form.
You clutch at your warm mug like a lifeline as The Lion presses close to lay a blanket over you, those grey eyes of her’s as unreadable as her stoic expression. You wonder what she is thinking. If she is angry that Greystone had become so attached to you.
A hand presses itself to your forehead and you flinch back. The Lion stares back at you, lips thin.
“Does our hero have a fever?” Greystone asks.
The Lion shakes her head, her palm resting against your forehead. She is so warm, just like Greystone.
“No,” she murmurs, and you shiver a little as her hand pulls away, skimming over your skin like a caress. “Their skin is still cold, my lord. Perhaps aught else to warm them?”
She steps back, and suddenly Greystone is the one in your personal space again. Ths time holding a bowl of what you guess is soup. He scoops up a spoonful, and to your embarrassment blows on it, before stretching the hand holding the spoon towards your lips.
“I can feed myself,” you insist, a little flustered under the intensity of their attention. Trying your damnedest not to be touched by Greystone’s concern. You’re not sure if The Lion really cares aside from attending to her Lord’s wants, but…
You glance in her direction. Ger meets your stare steadily and then quirks her eyebrows as you stare over long.
You hurriedly look away, looking instead down at your mug of tea. Safer, surely. As long as it wasn’t poisoned.
“Nonsense!” Greystone is saying. “Your hands are full. Ger and I are glad to take care of you as you cannot take care of yourself. Is that not so, Ger?”
The Lion steps forward to join Greystone in your personal bubble. Her hand reaching out. You flinch, just a little. Her motives not as plain to you as Greystone’s were. But all she does is tuck your blankets more snuggly around you, those grey eyes boring into you.
Your fingers squeeze hard around your mug of tea.
“Eat your soup,” Ger tells you as Greystone presses the spoon to your lips again.
You open your mouth.
“Good,” Ger says softly, and steps away enough that you feel like you can breathe again.
“Convincing, isn’t she?” Greystone grins. He is devastatingly attractive up close and personal. His slicked back hair less severe with small tendrils coming loose to frame his handsome face. His blue eyes bright and smiling lips glossy and dark.
This was… far too much.
You swallow hard, and raise your cup of tea to your lips. You don’t think they’d go through all this trouble just to poison your tea, and you really needed something to drink.
“You really should not have gone to fight Iceheart alone…” Greystone is saying as he feeds you spoonful after spoonful of tasty soup. “Ger and I would have gladly come to assist you!”
You blink. “What? But… She’s a villain. Aren’t you on the same side?”
Greystone laughs. “Of course not. She hates us, my dear hero. We are Ishgardian, after all.”
You look to where Ger was leaning against the wall, watching you with arms crossed. “Ishgardian?” You thought Ishgard’s doors were closed.
Ger nods her head. “We’ve crossed paths with her a few times. But that was before…”
Greystone looks to her, shaking his head and Ger falls quiet.
Before? Before what? You look to Greystone with curiosity writ plain across your face. But he only smiles and feeds you more soup.
“What’s done is done,” the villain says simply. “All that’s left is the aftermath.”
“Drink your tea,” Ger tells you.
You raise the cup to your lips obligingly, and wonder what Ger was going to say.