"One handful per fulm of hair. Dye washes off after roughly one cycle. Lather in hands, grasp locks, wash gently. Blue would look good.â€
It was a mistake to step onto the ship. Roen had regretted the decision to follow Nero onto the Second Forte as soon as the anchor was hoisted and the canvas of the main sails went taut with the winds of the Rhotano Sea. The sound of lapping waves soothed her not, and the view of the land growing smaller in the distance weakened her at her knees.
And yet she had followed the pirate on board after she came upon him preparing to leave Vesper Bay, as Daegsatz predicted he would when she could not find the smuggler at any of his safe houses.Their business was far from done, their alliances being just over a fortnight old. Especially after he kissed her a few suns ago; she could not just watch him leave. So despite the twist that came to her stomach at the thought, Roen agreed to accompany him as he prepared to return to the Second Forte. She was not about to let her recent ordeal with Crimson Mountain paralyze her with fear, even though she had silently vowed never to be stranded at sea ever again--not following that nightmare.
But what was she to do? Let the pirate go? When he offered her his hand, she took it and climbed on board the ferry.
The man she saw once she climbed onto the main deck of the Second Forte was no longer the jovial smuggler she had first met; now he was a pirate captain in every sense--a man who barked orders like a Maelstrom boatswain, sending his crew scrambling about the deck. But when the ship was finally well on its way to Limsa Lominsa, Nero seemed to look upon her with some measure of sympathy. He soon led her below the deck and away from the rest of the crew. He seemed to sense the paladin’s nervousness, despite the fact that she was trying her best to control her breathing and dismiss the pounding in her chest. He had given her a vial during the ferry ride for sea sickness, but it did little to quell the fluttering in her stomach. She was not about to show him that.
Once they were in his quarters, he offered her a seat that she did not take. Her eyes went from him to the small porthole and the view of the sea.
"Why did you seek me out, Roen? For my dashingly handsome looks, perhaps?" The pirate broke the silence with what seemed a jovial attempt to set her at ease. The smirk on his face had also returned.
"I just... wanted to clear the air."
"What about?" His facetious mask was almost a pleasant and familiar distraction now, within the confining walls of the rocking ship.
Roen licked her lips, slightly hesitant. "About… what happened a few suns ago." Her lips twitched. "About you kissing me." That came out more hurried than she had intended.
Nero kept the smirk on his face, raising an eyebrow. "And you are back for more, perhaps?" His tone was playful. "Unfortunately for you, we're in the middle of the Rhotano Sea. Running away is less viable of an option this time around."
"I know,†the paladin said calmly. If he hoped to bait her, she refused to take it. “I ran. But what was my alternative?" She regarded him carefully, trying to see beyond his air of arrogance. "This is a game to you, aye?"
The pirate stepped closer to her. "Dear Roen, you do not give yourself enough credit. You are not simply a game. The fact that I am enjoying myself does not mean it is trivial, no? What answer are you looking to get from me, Roen Deneith?"
"I do not know,†she blurted out. “I know you not, but all I have said, all I have committed to, it is because of what I believe about you." Roen inhaled deeply, collecting herself. "But… it does not put me at ease when you..."
"You are not at ease when I do this?" The smuggler stepped forward and pressed his lips on her again. It was not nearly as long as their first at Crescent Cove; this kiss was brief and quick.
The paladin’s eyes widened, and this time she had a sense to step back. She exhaled and placed her palms against his chest, with a quick tap. "Stop that."
Nero’s grin widened. "As you wish."
"You have a way of catching me off guard, time and again.†Roen began to feel the heat rise to her cheeks despite the numerous times she told herself she would not be flustered again by this man. “And… I will admit you are good at--at what you do. You probably have had your share of kisses and women. But I.... I want us to work together. Perhaps even be friends. But if you keep doing that..."
The smuggler tilted his head slightly. "...Then perhaps we may end up as more than friends?" he teased. Then he gestured, almost impatiently, as if the thought of kissing were a gnat. “It is irrelevant. If we are seen together, Natalie is likely to come over and pull my intestines out through my neck. Which is why I left and in a hurry. Your friends were… very insistent that I stay away from you."
The mention of Natalie made her frown instantly. "What she thinks of us should have no bearing on this discussion. Natalie can go jump off a Noscean cliff for all I care. She has meddled in my life long enough."
Nero spread his arms theatrically. "Ah, it is heartwarming to see you insist that nothing get between us. I understand." Without waiting for a response, he leaned in and placed his hand near her face, twirling a lock of her hair. "Though, I would be interested in seeing how you look in a ponytail."
Roen let out a long exasperated breath. "You are clearly not listening to--" She was forced to pause. "A... a ponytail?"
The pirate grinned, nodding. "I think you would look good in one. Have you considered growing out your hair? Perhaps have it coloured like I have." He brushed his own fiery orange forelocks. "An exotic colour. Blue, perhaps?"
The paladin found herself absently tucked a lock away, even as he withdrew his hand. "I used to have--" She stopped, giving him a straight face look. "Mister Lazarov," she said his surname in a chiding tone, both words firmly spoken.
"You would rather our emotions not cloud the circumstances of our alliance or interfere with our goal. I understand." He inclined his head in what seemed a mockery of deference. "Should there come a time where you must choose between myself and success, I pray you will know which choice I would have you make." Nero still had a smirk on his face and his tone was still light, despite his sober words.
The gravity of his sentiment made her pause, and a part of her was glad he was no longer teasing her. This push and pull between them... was this not why she had sought him out? She settled her thoughts and nodded with a knitted brow. "Aye. I know what your choice would be as well. But..." She glanced back up at him, her voice soft. "I also think that you and I... we have had nothing but arguments since we met. Perhaps we should change that."
"And what an interesting run it has been, no? I have not had such fun in intellectual sparring since dear paps disappeared. You are resolute in your bright ideals as I am relentless in my tarnished ones. It would make for a good story."
Roen regarded him thoughtfully. "Perhaps if we can find a compromise, Ul'dah will benefit all the more for it." She straightened, inhaling deeply. "Once we get to Limsa... give me an afternoon."
"Ah, an afternoon where you want me all to yourself, I take it?" The arrogant smirk remained plastered on his face.
The paladin narrowed her eyes on him with a hint of amusement. "Something like that."
"And to what do I owe the pleasure of an afternoon date with the lovely Miss Deneith, Free Paladin of Ul'dah?†The pirate arched a daring brow at her. “Or is it a surprise?"
"You will just have to find out." Her expression eased into a slight smile.
Nero answered with a smile of his own, a new twinkle in his eye. "As you wish.†He lightly brushed her cheek as he passed her by. She only wrinkled her nose at the touch but did not draw away. As she watched him exit the Captain’s quarters to make his way back up to the deck, she realized that she had forgotten about the ocean, the ship’s walls closing in, and the swaying of the ground beneath her feet. Her mind was a little bit more at ease.
Roen told herself that it was the potion that was beginning to settle her stomach. It certainly could not be anything else.
“Blue would look good.â€
“Right! No, right, you beast!â€
That was the first time--if ever--that Roen thought the smuggler actually sounded panicked. Nero had a head start on her as he took off in a full sprint on his chocobo down the hill, but the paladin was starting to close the distance between them as she spurred Goldwind into a gallop. That was when she spotted Nero’s mount suddenly veering off left and the rider’s elbows were raised to his side, clearly demonstrating his struggle to control his bird’s heading.
Roen’s grin soon turned into a grimace as Nero and the bird looked to run into a giant boulder, but it was narrowly dodged, the bird skidding around it despite the confusing directions being given by its inexperienced rider. Seeing him still bouncing upright on his saddle, Roen grinned again as she rode past him.
“How is your backside?†she called out over her shoulder.
“Not nearly as shapely as yours, my dear!†He shouted back, undaunted.
She licked her lips in anticipation and lowered herself near the neck of her bird. With a gentle kick to the hindquarter, she and Goldwind took to the next downhill with abandon.
“Agh!†The smuggler’s cry this time was indeed panic. “Too fast, too fast! Halt! Stop! Cease thine movement!â€
With a tightening of her legs and a firm hold on the reins, she brought Goldwind to a skidding stop at the bottom of the hill just overlooking the cliff. She placed her bird well away from the edge, but in between Nero and the precipice to allow for him to come to a safe stop.
It was not meant to be.
The smuggler was desperately hanging onto his mount’s neck as they came sprinting down the hill. Goldwind gave an alarmed kwark with a flap of his wings, to which Nero’s bird responded with a sharp skid. This sent its unfortunate rider flipping head beneath heels off his mount, with impeccable comedic timing. Roen winced at the landing. Dust rose into the early afternoon Noscean sky.
The pirate rubbed his back as he sat up. "Right, well, I told you not to laugh. But by all mean, please do it anyway. I know you want to." He raised his hand to stop her when she dismounted and approached. “No. Do not magnify my shame any more than it already has been, woman! Allow me to sit with some dignity!â€
The paladin just shook her head with an amused smile, crossing her arms instead.
“I believe the bird they gave me was possibly drunk.†Nero grunted as he rose to his feet. “There should be a law against that.â€
“I think your bird is in heat,†Roen glanced over to the two chocobos, watching Goldwind as he rubbed his head against the other one’s feathery neck. “They seem playful.â€
Nero placed the back of his hand on his forehead in feigned shock. "Dear Roen, coming on to me so strong, and so soon? Why, we hardly know each other!" He followed her gaze and shrugged. "Well, I suppose the bird tried." He approached his chocobo and scratched it under its chin. "Still think you may be drunk," he muttered to the bird.
Roen approached Goldwind and gave him a pat on the neck to send him off to graze. Nero’s bird soon followed. “I think your mount did just fine." She gave a smirk over her shoulder to the smuggler. "Despite the rider."
Nero rolled his eyes. "Please forestall your judgment for now. Chocobos are not my favored element." He turned towards the view of the sea and let out a sigh. "This is far more my preference."
The paladin inhaled deeply of the sea air. "I cannot say I blame you. The view is wondrous."
The pirate glanced at her, a carefree grin on his face. He held out his arm to her. "You need not enjoy it standing so far from me, Roen."
She glanced down at his proffered arm, before stepping up next to him without taking it. "I asked you for this afternoon, because… I wanted us to enjoy each other's company without unease."
Nero shrugged, withdrawing his arms and folding them across his chest. “Consider your mission accomplished, then."
A pregnant pause filled the silence before they broke it at the same time.
“Nero, you are much more better at this than I. But--â€
“Where did you learn to ride?â€
Roen made a face and glanced away while Nero coughed. “Ah, you first,†he said quickly.
"When I was young,†the paladin pressed her lips together to chase away a sheepish smile. “I learned to ride early. It was one of the first things my mother taught me."
"Chocobos in Garlemald? Were they perhaps magitek chocobos?" A hint of amusement laced his tone. He lowered himself to the ground, leaning one hand against the soft grass of the cliff.
“They were available.†Roen joined him, tucking her legs to her chest as she took a seat. A gentle sea breeze began to waft past them. “Imports of course. My mother held all sorts of fascination with things that were foreign in nature." She looked back out into the oceanic horizon again, her mood growing wistful. "I suppose that bode well for me, since I was not born of the Empire either. She loved many things, Imperial or not."
“She sounds like a very compassionate woman."
"What little I remember of her. And after she passed, riding was one way I could hold onto some of those memories."
"Then for what it's worth, I am glad that at least something exists to grant you good memories of her."
Roen glanced down to the ground, her fingers playing idly with a blade of grass. Such relaxed conversations were rare between them, so she was determined to enjoy it. “Racing aside, this is nice. That we can get to know each other little better, away from talks of political upheaval and past tragedies.†When he looked back to her with an equally easy expression, she bit her lower lip. “Let us play a game of sharing a secret.â€
“Oh?†Nero arched a brow. “Do tell.â€
The paladin shrugged. “It is something I used to do in my youth to break the ice. Tell me something that you would never want your father to find out. Should you find him on the morrow, is there anything you would be mortified for him to discover?â€
The smuggler turned away with a grimace. "Well… he'd probably be pretty annoyed that I've… um.." He scratched his head. “He... before I left to study thaumaturgy, he said I should… uh...." his cheeks turned ruddy as he coughed. "...get married."
Roen raised both eyebrows.
"I wouldn't want to hear his tirade when he found out I've still failed to do that much for him."
"Married?†The paladin eyed him oddly. “I… I never thought your pirate stepfather was so... traditional!"
Nero shrugged, wringing his fingers together. "I mean, even if not by blood, he was technically my father… he started getting on in years. I think he was married in the past, so… I suppose he wanted the same for me? Or he simply wanted grandkids to boss around. Make a pirate dynasty or something."
Roen chuckled quietly behind a curled hand. "And why did you not?"
He blew a breath out his nose. "Never found the right woman. I've been with women before, sure, but they were... dalliances. Or crazy." He seemed to consider something for a moment, then added, "Or both." He shrugged. "I'm not terribly interested in tying myself down either. At least not yet. Honestly, could you imagine me a married man, settling down in some cottage somewhere, living out my days in peace? I think Halone would throw her shield at me if she found out."
"I honestly cannot. Nay." She was trying her best to look sympathetic rather than amused.
The pirate flashed a playful glare at her. "You are enjoying this far too much. Your turn, then. What wouldn't you want your parents to find out?"
She bit her lip, her chuckle giving way to a wince. "My mother would be appalled that I am wielding a sword. Or wearing armor. Or trained in the arms." She wrinkled her nose. "She was a loving mother…. but a very noble, proper, and gentle woman."
"I suppose she wanted you dressed up in gowns and petticoats, practising your curtsy for noble suitors?"
"Had she been alive, I think I would have attended many balls. My life would have been full of courtships and..." she said dryly. “...proposals of marriage." She nodded to the man. "Those formal lessons began early."
Nero tilted his head in interest. "Care to demonstrate?" When she canted her head questioningly, he elaborated. "Whatever your noble mother taught you about nobility. Such as the aforementioned curtsy."
Roen pursed her lips, hesitating, then she straightened and rose, dusting herself off. "My mother was a good teacher," she said proudly. "I took her lessons to heart." She stepped back from him and drew herself up, lifting her chin, very noble like. Her hand moved smoothly as if floating in water, and she lowered herself ever gracefully into a deep curtsy.
“How do you do, Mister Lazarov,†she said with a slight accent. “I am ever pleased to make your acquaintance.â€
She was rewarded with applause and a smile from the smuggler. "A shame you never did become a proper noblewoman. I would have paid money to see your potential suitors scramble for your hand in marriage."
Roen tucked a stray hair behind her ear and sat down again. "I think I prefer the ways of… what do Eorzeans call it, an 'adventurer.' The paths of paladinhood. Much like you, I cannot see myself settled in a house to live out my days."
"Heh. Perhaps that will change in our twilight years."
“Perhaps,†she mused. “I am in no hurry to get into petticoats. I am never sure why such things are so popular, both north and south of the border!â€
"It was meant to… exaggerate one's form, I believe," Nero's hazy response was tinged with some awkwardness. "Not that you'd have trouble in that department," he flashed a smirk at the paladin.
Roen made a face. This was not the first time he had remarked upon her clothing whenever she was out of her armor. She tugged at her loose tunic absently. "Does my manner of dress really seem that ostentatious to you? I was just going by the advice of Yellow Moon in the Weaver's Guild. She seemed to know what she was talking about." There were doubts leaking into her words.
The smuggled grinned. "No… well, perhaps. You present the image of a lady knight. Any deficiency in modesty seems… out of character. If you have any doubts, however, be assured that I do enjoy what I see." His tone was daring even though he glanced away again.
"I suppose I am still trying to figure out who I am. No longer a Sworn, learning what it is to be a paladin, an ex-Garlean..."
"Why does it matter? Why can you not simply be Roen Deneith, a woman who believes in what is right?"
"That is at least one thing I am sure of, my beliefs." Roen smiled, then drew in a breath. “One thing I am not sure about is..." She peered up at him. "What we are. Are we friends?"
She was met with a look of genuine surprise from the pirate. He glanced away. "I… don't know."
Roen took the opportunity to study him carefully; she was almost expecting the charming rogue to make a return. A part of her was relieved that he did not put that mask back on.
"I honestly don't know where I stand with you, Roen."
"Let us be honest then." Her voice had softened, even the sound of the waves seemed quieter. "Where do I stand with you, Nero?"
"I don't know. I don't..." He sounded as unsure as she had ever heard him. "I've… never known someone like you. Someone who did not expect something in return. Someone who did not want some form of compensation." He glanced back at her, his eyes narrowed slightly. "I don't think I've even decided whether or not I fully believe your selflessness." That, oddly, seemed the gravest truth from him yet.
She just regarded him without judgement. "That is for you to decide. I have already asked you the one thing I truly wanted." She glanced back down to her hand, where she began to absently play with the blade of grass again. "I am… not entirely selfless. I do want things. But… I think I often wrestle with what I want, and what I want to see for others."
"Then what is it you want from me? I know you want me to be better, but that is something you want me to become. What is it you want from me?"
"I… I am… not sure." Her voice had lowered to a whisper. “I am not good at this. This." She gestured between them. "I have never… and you have but..." She was struggling with her words. Why was this so difficult to say? "I know how to protect people and defend their lives and I know what is right and what is wrong. But this. It is… not right or wrong. It is just..."
It was then that Nero reached his arm out, pulling her closer to him. "Then let me help you decide… if you will have me." His face was now dangerously close to hers. She could feel his breath upon her cheeks.
Roen swallowed, her own breaths coming quick but shallow. Her eyes darted between his, studying the icy blue gaze. She then looked to his nose, following its course to his lips. Before she knew it, she leaned in and placed her lips against his. It was a tentative touch, a light brush.
Nero pulled his head back from her momentarily, his eyes blinking in surprise. But then he leaned forward again and returned with another kiss, this one much more aggressive than her own. The motion repeated a few more times, where he would release his hold over her, only to kiss her again with equal parts force and gentleness. It was a dance, an intimate waltz that seemed to simultaneously last forever and yet not long enough.
Their sparking passion was far too quickly interrupted by a crackle in Nero's ear. The pirate pulled his head away from hers, though his hand remained upon hers, where they had somehow become entwined together upon the soft grass.
"I believe… I may have missed an appointment," he said breathlessly, allowing his lips to meet hers again ever so briefly.
It took another breath to register his words, her cheeks bright red. "An... an appointment?"
The smuggler kissed her again. "I did not expect our meeting to go on for as long as it did."
She smiled warmly, no longer caring about the flush to her face. "Ah, I did not expect... that is..." She tucked a stray lock behind her ear, trying to suppress a smile. Too late for modesty but she tried anyways. "This was not what I had planned."
"It is best when it is unexpected," he smirked at her, caressing her face. "Trust me on that.†His hand lingered for a moment longer. "I'd best not keep my clients waiting. Mayhaps we can continue this on the morrow, if it pleases you, my lady Deneith." There was a lingering sense of regret as he slowly released her hand and rose.
"It... it would." Roen swallowed as she rose with him. "Aye."
He gave her a slight nod, with one last parting kiss on her cheek. "Then we will meet later."
The paladin watched him leave, this time taking his chocobo in a slow walk. She cupped her cheeks with her hands to find them burning, but she did not care. Her smile would not abate. She broke out into a light laughter when Goldwind came next to her with a quiet coo, and rubbed his beak against her hair.
“Sewing is hard. One of the buttons may come off.â€
A droplet of moisture. Then another upon the bronze buttons that stared up at her, its round yellow face made of felt stained with tears.
Her thumb trembled as the paladin traced the seams, every last imperfection sewn in with care and determination. Confidence hampered by frustration, dissatisfaction despite the earnest intentions… that was who he was, was it not? This very thing nestled within her hands, staring back up at her…
“I thought I wanted you to join my side.â€
She had told herself that she had been a fool to believe that he wanted to be a better man. That the hope she held for him was naught but her own imagination. His promises were words of convenience, a rope thrown to a drowning person with the intent to lure them in. Their confessed feelings for each other had been birthed out of pure loneliness in a sea of darkness.
“But what I wanted was to be able to go to yours.â€
She had promised no more tears, that she was done with sadness. But as she stared at his last confession to her, gone from her mind were their last conversation at Aleport--angry, indignant words of accusation.
All that she could remember was the laughter and the kisses they shared. She missed his caress upon her cheek, his jovial mask, and his snarky retorts. And she missed those rare glimpses of genuine compassion... and even the doubts and the exhaustion that weighed him so.
Roen held the doll tightly to her chest as sobs rose, and allowed herself to grieve for the death of the man she had loved.
It was a mistake to step onto the ship. Roen had regretted the decision to follow Nero onto the Second Forte as soon as the anchor was hoisted and the canvas of the main sails went taut with the winds of the Rhotano Sea. The sound of lapping waves soothed her not, and the view of the land growing smaller in the distance weakened her at her knees.
And yet she had followed the pirate on board after she came upon him preparing to leave Vesper Bay, as Daegsatz predicted he would when she could not find the smuggler at any of his safe houses.Their business was far from done, their alliances being just over a fortnight old. Especially after he kissed her a few suns ago; she could not just watch him leave. So despite the twist that came to her stomach at the thought, Roen agreed to accompany him as he prepared to return to the Second Forte. She was not about to let her recent ordeal with Crimson Mountain paralyze her with fear, even though she had silently vowed never to be stranded at sea ever again--not following that nightmare.
But what was she to do? Let the pirate go? When he offered her his hand, she took it and climbed on board the ferry.
The man she saw once she climbed onto the main deck of the Second Forte was no longer the jovial smuggler she had first met; now he was a pirate captain in every sense--a man who barked orders like a Maelstrom boatswain, sending his crew scrambling about the deck. But when the ship was finally well on its way to Limsa Lominsa, Nero seemed to look upon her with some measure of sympathy. He soon led her below the deck and away from the rest of the crew. He seemed to sense the paladin’s nervousness, despite the fact that she was trying her best to control her breathing and dismiss the pounding in her chest. He had given her a vial during the ferry ride for sea sickness, but it did little to quell the fluttering in her stomach. She was not about to show him that.
Once they were in his quarters, he offered her a seat that she did not take. Her eyes went from him to the small porthole and the view of the sea.
"Why did you seek me out, Roen? For my dashingly handsome looks, perhaps?" The pirate broke the silence with what seemed a jovial attempt to set her at ease. The smirk on his face had also returned.
"I just... wanted to clear the air."
"What about?" His facetious mask was almost a pleasant and familiar distraction now, within the confining walls of the rocking ship.
Roen licked her lips, slightly hesitant. "About… what happened a few suns ago." Her lips twitched. "About you kissing me." That came out more hurried than she had intended.
Nero kept the smirk on his face, raising an eyebrow. "And you are back for more, perhaps?" His tone was playful. "Unfortunately for you, we're in the middle of the Rhotano Sea. Running away is less viable of an option this time around."
"I know,†the paladin said calmly. If he hoped to bait her, she refused to take it. “I ran. But what was my alternative?" She regarded him carefully, trying to see beyond his air of arrogance. "This is a game to you, aye?"
The pirate stepped closer to her. "Dear Roen, you do not give yourself enough credit. You are not simply a game. The fact that I am enjoying myself does not mean it is trivial, no? What answer are you looking to get from me, Roen Deneith?"
"I do not know,†she blurted out. “I know you not, but all I have said, all I have committed to, it is because of what I believe about you." Roen inhaled deeply, collecting herself. "But… it does not put me at ease when you..."
"You are not at ease when I do this?" The smuggler stepped forward and pressed his lips on her again. It was not nearly as long as their first at Crescent Cove; this kiss was brief and quick.
The paladin’s eyes widened, and this time she had a sense to step back. She exhaled and placed her palms against his chest, with a quick tap. "Stop that."
Nero’s grin widened. "As you wish."
"You have a way of catching me off guard, time and again.†Roen began to feel the heat rise to her cheeks despite the numerous times she told herself she would not be flustered again by this man. “And… I will admit you are good at--at what you do. You probably have had your share of kisses and women. But I.... I want us to work together. Perhaps even be friends. But if you keep doing that..."
The smuggler tilted his head slightly. "...Then perhaps we may end up as more than friends?" he teased. Then he gestured, almost impatiently, as if the thought of kissing were a gnat. “It is irrelevant. If we are seen together, Natalie is likely to come over and pull my intestines out through my neck. Which is why I left and in a hurry. Your friends were… very insistent that I stay away from you."
The mention of Natalie made her frown instantly. "What she thinks of us should have no bearing on this discussion. Natalie can go jump off a Noscean cliff for all I care. She has meddled in my life long enough."
Nero spread his arms theatrically. "Ah, it is heartwarming to see you insist that nothing get between us. I understand." Without waiting for a response, he leaned in and placed his hand near her face, twirling a lock of her hair. "Though, I would be interested in seeing how you look in a ponytail."
Roen let out a long exasperated breath. "You are clearly not listening to--" She was forced to pause. "A... a ponytail?"
The pirate grinned, nodding. "I think you would look good in one. Have you considered growing out your hair? Perhaps have it coloured like I have." He brushed his own fiery orange forelocks. "An exotic colour. Blue, perhaps?"
The paladin found herself absently tucked a lock away, even as he withdrew his hand. "I used to have--" She stopped, giving him a straight face look. "Mister Lazarov," she said his surname in a chiding tone, both words firmly spoken.
"You would rather our emotions not cloud the circumstances of our alliance or interfere with our goal. I understand." He inclined his head in what seemed a mockery of deference. "Should there come a time where you must choose between myself and success, I pray you will know which choice I would have you make." Nero still had a smirk on his face and his tone was still light, despite his sober words.
The gravity of his sentiment made her pause, and a part of her was glad he was no longer teasing her. This push and pull between them... was this not why she had sought him out? She settled her thoughts and nodded with a knitted brow. "Aye. I know what your choice would be as well. But..." She glanced back up at him, her voice soft. "I also think that you and I... we have had nothing but arguments since we met. Perhaps we should change that."
"And what an interesting run it has been, no? I have not had such fun in intellectual sparring since dear paps disappeared. You are resolute in your bright ideals as I am relentless in my tarnished ones. It would make for a good story."
Roen regarded him thoughtfully. "Perhaps if we can find a compromise, Ul'dah will benefit all the more for it." She straightened, inhaling deeply. "Once we get to Limsa... give me an afternoon."
"Ah, an afternoon where you want me all to yourself, I take it?" The arrogant smirk remained plastered on his face.
The paladin narrowed her eyes on him with a hint of amusement. "Something like that."
"And to what do I owe the pleasure of an afternoon date with the lovely Miss Deneith, Free Paladin of Ul'dah?†The pirate arched a daring brow at her. “Or is it a surprise?"
"You will just have to find out." Her expression eased into a slight smile.
Nero answered with a smile of his own, a new twinkle in his eye. "As you wish.†He lightly brushed her cheek as he passed her by. She only wrinkled her nose at the touch but did not draw away. As she watched him exit the Captain’s quarters to make his way back up to the deck, she realized that she had forgotten about the ocean, the ship’s walls closing in, and the swaying of the ground beneath her feet. Her mind was a little bit more at ease.
Roen told herself that it was the potion that was beginning to settle her stomach. It certainly could not be anything else.
“Blue would look good.â€
~
“Right! No, right, you beast!â€
That was the first time--if ever--that Roen thought the smuggler actually sounded panicked. Nero had a head start on her as he took off in a full sprint on his chocobo down the hill, but the paladin was starting to close the distance between them as she spurred Goldwind into a gallop. That was when she spotted Nero’s mount suddenly veering off left and the rider’s elbows were raised to his side, clearly demonstrating his struggle to control his bird’s heading.
Roen’s grin soon turned into a grimace as Nero and the bird looked to run into a giant boulder, but it was narrowly dodged, the bird skidding around it despite the confusing directions being given by its inexperienced rider. Seeing him still bouncing upright on his saddle, Roen grinned again as she rode past him.
“How is your backside?†she called out over her shoulder.
“Not nearly as shapely as yours, my dear!†He shouted back, undaunted.
She licked her lips in anticipation and lowered herself near the neck of her bird. With a gentle kick to the hindquarter, she and Goldwind took to the next downhill with abandon.
“Agh!†The smuggler’s cry this time was indeed panic. “Too fast, too fast! Halt! Stop! Cease thine movement!â€
With a tightening of her legs and a firm hold on the reins, she brought Goldwind to a skidding stop at the bottom of the hill just overlooking the cliff. She placed her bird well away from the edge, but in between Nero and the precipice to allow for him to come to a safe stop.
It was not meant to be.
The smuggler was desperately hanging onto his mount’s neck as they came sprinting down the hill. Goldwind gave an alarmed kwark with a flap of his wings, to which Nero’s bird responded with a sharp skid. This sent its unfortunate rider flipping head beneath heels off his mount, with impeccable comedic timing. Roen winced at the landing. Dust rose into the early afternoon Noscean sky.
The pirate rubbed his back as he sat up. "Right, well, I told you not to laugh. But by all mean, please do it anyway. I know you want to." He raised his hand to stop her when she dismounted and approached. “No. Do not magnify my shame any more than it already has been, woman! Allow me to sit with some dignity!â€
The paladin just shook her head with an amused smile, crossing her arms instead.
“I believe the bird they gave me was possibly drunk.†Nero grunted as he rose to his feet. “There should be a law against that.â€
“I think your bird is in heat,†Roen glanced over to the two chocobos, watching Goldwind as he rubbed his head against the other one’s feathery neck. “They seem playful.â€
Nero placed the back of his hand on his forehead in feigned shock. "Dear Roen, coming on to me so strong, and so soon? Why, we hardly know each other!" He followed her gaze and shrugged. "Well, I suppose the bird tried." He approached his chocobo and scratched it under its chin. "Still think you may be drunk," he muttered to the bird.
Roen approached Goldwind and gave him a pat on the neck to send him off to graze. Nero’s bird soon followed. “I think your mount did just fine." She gave a smirk over her shoulder to the smuggler. "Despite the rider."
Nero rolled his eyes. "Please forestall your judgment for now. Chocobos are not my favored element." He turned towards the view of the sea and let out a sigh. "This is far more my preference."
The paladin inhaled deeply of the sea air. "I cannot say I blame you. The view is wondrous."
The pirate glanced at her, a carefree grin on his face. He held out his arm to her. "You need not enjoy it standing so far from me, Roen."
She glanced down at his proffered arm, before stepping up next to him without taking it. "I asked you for this afternoon, because… I wanted us to enjoy each other's company without unease."
Nero shrugged, withdrawing his arms and folding them across his chest. “Consider your mission accomplished, then."
A pregnant pause filled the silence before they broke it at the same time.
“Nero, you are much more better at this than I. But--â€
“Where did you learn to ride?â€
Roen made a face and glanced away while Nero coughed. “Ah, you first,†he said quickly.
"When I was young,†the paladin pressed her lips together to chase away a sheepish smile. “I learned to ride early. It was one of the first things my mother taught me."
"Chocobos in Garlemald? Were they perhaps magitek chocobos?" A hint of amusement laced his tone. He lowered himself to the ground, leaning one hand against the soft grass of the cliff.
“They were available.†Roen joined him, tucking her legs to her chest as she took a seat. A gentle sea breeze began to waft past them. “Imports of course. My mother held all sorts of fascination with things that were foreign in nature." She looked back out into the oceanic horizon again, her mood growing wistful. "I suppose that bode well for me, since I was not born of the Empire either. She loved many things, Imperial or not."
“She sounds like a very compassionate woman."
"What little I remember of her. And after she passed, riding was one way I could hold onto some of those memories."
"Then for what it's worth, I am glad that at least something exists to grant you good memories of her."
Roen glanced down to the ground, her fingers playing idly with a blade of grass. Such relaxed conversations were rare between them, so she was determined to enjoy it. “Racing aside, this is nice. That we can get to know each other little better, away from talks of political upheaval and past tragedies.†When he looked back to her with an equally easy expression, she bit her lower lip. “Let us play a game of sharing a secret.â€
“Oh?†Nero arched a brow. “Do tell.â€
The paladin shrugged. “It is something I used to do in my youth to break the ice. Tell me something that you would never want your father to find out. Should you find him on the morrow, is there anything you would be mortified for him to discover?â€
The smuggler turned away with a grimace. "Well… he'd probably be pretty annoyed that I've… um.." He scratched his head. “He... before I left to study thaumaturgy, he said I should… uh...." his cheeks turned ruddy as he coughed. "...get married."
Roen raised both eyebrows.
"I wouldn't want to hear his tirade when he found out I've still failed to do that much for him."
"Married?†The paladin eyed him oddly. “I… I never thought your pirate stepfather was so... traditional!"
Nero shrugged, wringing his fingers together. "I mean, even if not by blood, he was technically my father… he started getting on in years. I think he was married in the past, so… I suppose he wanted the same for me? Or he simply wanted grandkids to boss around. Make a pirate dynasty or something."
Roen chuckled quietly behind a curled hand. "And why did you not?"
He blew a breath out his nose. "Never found the right woman. I've been with women before, sure, but they were... dalliances. Or crazy." He seemed to consider something for a moment, then added, "Or both." He shrugged. "I'm not terribly interested in tying myself down either. At least not yet. Honestly, could you imagine me a married man, settling down in some cottage somewhere, living out my days in peace? I think Halone would throw her shield at me if she found out."
"I honestly cannot. Nay." She was trying her best to look sympathetic rather than amused.
The pirate flashed a playful glare at her. "You are enjoying this far too much. Your turn, then. What wouldn't you want your parents to find out?"
She bit her lip, her chuckle giving way to a wince. "My mother would be appalled that I am wielding a sword. Or wearing armor. Or trained in the arms." She wrinkled her nose. "She was a loving mother…. but a very noble, proper, and gentle woman."
"I suppose she wanted you dressed up in gowns and petticoats, practising your curtsy for noble suitors?"
"Had she been alive, I think I would have attended many balls. My life would have been full of courtships and..." she said dryly. “...proposals of marriage." She nodded to the man. "Those formal lessons began early."
Nero tilted his head in interest. "Care to demonstrate?" When she canted her head questioningly, he elaborated. "Whatever your noble mother taught you about nobility. Such as the aforementioned curtsy."
Roen pursed her lips, hesitating, then she straightened and rose, dusting herself off. "My mother was a good teacher," she said proudly. "I took her lessons to heart." She stepped back from him and drew herself up, lifting her chin, very noble like. Her hand moved smoothly as if floating in water, and she lowered herself ever gracefully into a deep curtsy.
“How do you do, Mister Lazarov,†she said with a slight accent. “I am ever pleased to make your acquaintance.â€
She was rewarded with applause and a smile from the smuggler. "A shame you never did become a proper noblewoman. I would have paid money to see your potential suitors scramble for your hand in marriage."
Roen tucked a stray hair behind her ear and sat down again. "I think I prefer the ways of… what do Eorzeans call it, an 'adventurer.' The paths of paladinhood. Much like you, I cannot see myself settled in a house to live out my days."
"Heh. Perhaps that will change in our twilight years."
“Perhaps,†she mused. “I am in no hurry to get into petticoats. I am never sure why such things are so popular, both north and south of the border!â€
"It was meant to… exaggerate one's form, I believe," Nero's hazy response was tinged with some awkwardness. "Not that you'd have trouble in that department," he flashed a smirk at the paladin.
Roen made a face. This was not the first time he had remarked upon her clothing whenever she was out of her armor. She tugged at her loose tunic absently. "Does my manner of dress really seem that ostentatious to you? I was just going by the advice of Yellow Moon in the Weaver's Guild. She seemed to know what she was talking about." There were doubts leaking into her words.
The smuggled grinned. "No… well, perhaps. You present the image of a lady knight. Any deficiency in modesty seems… out of character. If you have any doubts, however, be assured that I do enjoy what I see." His tone was daring even though he glanced away again.
"I suppose I am still trying to figure out who I am. No longer a Sworn, learning what it is to be a paladin, an ex-Garlean..."
"Why does it matter? Why can you not simply be Roen Deneith, a woman who believes in what is right?"
"That is at least one thing I am sure of, my beliefs." Roen smiled, then drew in a breath. “One thing I am not sure about is..." She peered up at him. "What we are. Are we friends?"
She was met with a look of genuine surprise from the pirate. He glanced away. "I… don't know."
Roen took the opportunity to study him carefully; she was almost expecting the charming rogue to make a return. A part of her was relieved that he did not put that mask back on.
"I honestly don't know where I stand with you, Roen."
"Let us be honest then." Her voice had softened, even the sound of the waves seemed quieter. "Where do I stand with you, Nero?"
"I don't know. I don't..." He sounded as unsure as she had ever heard him. "I've… never known someone like you. Someone who did not expect something in return. Someone who did not want some form of compensation." He glanced back at her, his eyes narrowed slightly. "I don't think I've even decided whether or not I fully believe your selflessness." That, oddly, seemed the gravest truth from him yet.
She just regarded him without judgement. "That is for you to decide. I have already asked you the one thing I truly wanted." She glanced back down to her hand, where she began to absently play with the blade of grass again. "I am… not entirely selfless. I do want things. But… I think I often wrestle with what I want, and what I want to see for others."
"Then what is it you want from me? I know you want me to be better, but that is something you want me to become. What is it you want from me?"
"I… I am… not sure." Her voice had lowered to a whisper. “I am not good at this. This." She gestured between them. "I have never… and you have but..." She was struggling with her words. Why was this so difficult to say? "I know how to protect people and defend their lives and I know what is right and what is wrong. But this. It is… not right or wrong. It is just..."
It was then that Nero reached his arm out, pulling her closer to him. "Then let me help you decide… if you will have me." His face was now dangerously close to hers. She could feel his breath upon her cheeks.
Roen swallowed, her own breaths coming quick but shallow. Her eyes darted between his, studying the icy blue gaze. She then looked to his nose, following its course to his lips. Before she knew it, she leaned in and placed her lips against his. It was a tentative touch, a light brush.
Nero pulled his head back from her momentarily, his eyes blinking in surprise. But then he leaned forward again and returned with another kiss, this one much more aggressive than her own. The motion repeated a few more times, where he would release his hold over her, only to kiss her again with equal parts force and gentleness. It was a dance, an intimate waltz that seemed to simultaneously last forever and yet not long enough.
Their sparking passion was far too quickly interrupted by a crackle in Nero's ear. The pirate pulled his head away from hers, though his hand remained upon hers, where they had somehow become entwined together upon the soft grass.
"I believe… I may have missed an appointment," he said breathlessly, allowing his lips to meet hers again ever so briefly.
It took another breath to register his words, her cheeks bright red. "An... an appointment?"
The smuggler kissed her again. "I did not expect our meeting to go on for as long as it did."
She smiled warmly, no longer caring about the flush to her face. "Ah, I did not expect... that is..." She tucked a stray lock behind her ear, trying to suppress a smile. Too late for modesty but she tried anyways. "This was not what I had planned."
"It is best when it is unexpected," he smirked at her, caressing her face. "Trust me on that.†His hand lingered for a moment longer. "I'd best not keep my clients waiting. Mayhaps we can continue this on the morrow, if it pleases you, my lady Deneith." There was a lingering sense of regret as he slowly released her hand and rose.
"It... it would." Roen swallowed as she rose with him. "Aye."
He gave her a slight nod, with one last parting kiss on her cheek. "Then we will meet later."
The paladin watched him leave, this time taking his chocobo in a slow walk. She cupped her cheeks with her hands to find them burning, but she did not care. Her smile would not abate. She broke out into a light laughter when Goldwind came next to her with a quiet coo, and rubbed his beak against her hair.
~
“Sewing is hard. One of the buttons may come off.â€
A droplet of moisture. Then another upon the bronze buttons that stared up at her, its round yellow face made of felt stained with tears.
Her thumb trembled as the paladin traced the seams, every last imperfection sewn in with care and determination. Confidence hampered by frustration, dissatisfaction despite the earnest intentions… that was who he was, was it not? This very thing nestled within her hands, staring back up at her…
“I thought I wanted you to join my side.â€
She had told herself that she had been a fool to believe that he wanted to be a better man. That the hope she held for him was naught but her own imagination. His promises were words of convenience, a rope thrown to a drowning person with the intent to lure them in. Their confessed feelings for each other had been birthed out of pure loneliness in a sea of darkness.
“But what I wanted was to be able to go to yours.â€
She had promised no more tears, that she was done with sadness. But as she stared at his last confession to her, gone from her mind were their last conversation at Aleport--angry, indignant words of accusation.
All that she could remember was the laughter and the kisses they shared. She missed his caress upon her cheek, his jovial mask, and his snarky retorts. And she missed those rare glimpses of genuine compassion... and even the doubts and the exhaustion that weighed him so.
Roen held the doll tightly to her chest as sobs rose, and allowed herself to grieve for the death of the man she had loved.
