With a certain pride and an unconcealed smirk, D'aijeen Thalen weathered the unapproving glares of the other Dodos as she strolled across the commune's square. Her green ears bounced, green tails swished, blue eyes watched the meandering whisps of clouds heading out into the desert. She felt the glares, the stars, the jeering glances all the same. So D'themia had decreed D'ahl bound and off-limits. D'aijeen did not care, and she thought that was what frustrated the others the most: that she, all but alone among them, was not afraid of D'themia Nunh.
Apparently the Nunh intended to starve the woman into not just mating, but pregnancy as well. It was a terrible plan, of course. An immature child's plan. It was easily undone by bringing the woman foodstuffs and company.
The thin, straight bridge that led from the square to the tower wherein D'ahl's apartment was located passed over some of the more privileged streets in Ul'dah. D'aijeen walked proudly over the heads of many of Ul'dah's Syndicate-affiliate residents before reaching the tower and heading inward to D'ahl's apartment. She didn't knock, her welcome assumed as it always was, and proceeded past the mirrored foyer into the nearly invisible hallway with bold certainty.
She did not stop until she found herself facing an unexpected person, D'hein Tia, who had been walking outward and stopped wide-eyed on D'aijeen's sudden appearance. He was disheveled, bloody-faced and bruised, his robe wrinkled and twisted and his steps rather weak. He stood in silence, expression twisted, blinking at D'aijeen until something hit him from behind, causing him to stumble forward.
D'ahl appeared then, kicking D'hein forward, "Go on! Get out!"
"Please cease!" D'hein said, glaring behind him, "You'll know me into D'aijeen."
D'aijeen stepped to one side, smiling when she saw that D'ahl had done up her hair and donned the glasses to alter her appearance pleasingly. Like in preparation for D'aijeen's return. "I'm out of the way now! You can continue. Hello."
"Hello, dear," D'ahl replied, then kicked D'hein again, "Continue walking, Tia!"
"Presently." D'hein's tail was whipping around in dumb agitation, thwacking against the many-mirrored walled beside him noisily. He turned his attention on D'aijeen, blue eyes simmering with frustration, "You, miss inappropriate affectations! What have you done to your mother to terrify her so?"
Her green lips smirking, D'aijeen quipped, "D'ahl does not appear intimidated by anyone."
"No, in Drybone," he replied, "The woman from Sagolii. Antimony. Your actual mother?"
"What? Anti..."
"Enough!" D'ahl threw her body into the man, small but strong enough to send him stumbling again. "This is not something either of us need grief from you on!"
"Wait!" D'aijeen jumped between the two Miqo'te, white clothes on very dark skin presenting a very starkly contrasted, frail form between them. Her arms were spread to either side, head dipped low, eyes glaring from behind her bangs. "You!... You!" Her hands turns to fists and slammed down on her thighs, "You were behind that! It was you!"
"Ah," D'hein found his feet, took a steadying breath, adjust his robes. "Yes, I do take credit for that."
"You heinous deceiver!" D'aijeen shouted, her tail shiver and puffing out behind her so that it was almost as thick as her waist. "Loathsome! Manipualtive! You knew... you... You sought her out and-"
"The details are unimportant," D'hein delivered flatly. "I found your mother and delivered her to yourself and K'airos. From what I can tell, K'airos accepted her and you made some kind of threat. What did you do?"
"Not half of what I'm going to do to you, D'hein Tia!" D'aijeen's low voice somehow became thinner when she shouted, her lungs trying to create great noise on an especially modest amount of air. Nothing made her feel her own frailty like anger. "The confusion you caused my poor K'airos! The lie of it! The absolute-"
D'hein crossed his arms, "Don't pretend its a lie. Your mother is alive and well, and both she and K'airos are extremely happy. You're the only one standing between them."
"Oh, K'airos is happy?" D'aijeen's head snapped up, leaned forward, fixed D'hein with wide eyes that had teared up in frustration, "How do you know? What have you done? What've you done? Where is my K'airos?"
D'hein averted his eyes, "I have taken no action."
"Liar! You've seen her! You've seen them!"
D'ahl's hands fell on D'aijeen's shoulders, calm but solid, and she leaned her head over the woman's shoulder as she said, "I think it would be best if we do not kill D'hein." Her glare moved to the Tia, "Difficult as that may be."
"Then he needs to leave immediately!" D'aijeen shifted underneath D'ahl's hands, but did not break free. "Manipulating my K'airos! My K'airos!"
D'hein gestured wide with his hands, "D'ahl, D'aijeen needs to accept her mother!"
"She has!" D'ahl pulled the smaller, frail woman against her, wrapping her arms around her and holding her fast in place.
D'aijeen responded first by pitching forward, pressing her hands against D'ahl's, just reacting to the fact that she had been pulled off balance. She didn't want to be held! Her mind was full of images of that woman that K'airos had found in Drybone -- her mother -- and of the conflict it had struck between the sisters D'aijeen and K'airos. D'hein couldn't know what he had done, but he should! K'airos needed to believe that their mother was dead. One lie, one alone, she needed to believe, and she would stay with D'aijeen forever.
It was the only thing keeping K'airos in Thanalan, the lie that the tribe had been destroy. That their mother was dead. That was all. Without that...
K'airos would go home. To people she loved more.
And D'aijeen would be alone.
"Mom!" D'aijeen spun around in D'ahl's hands, pitched her head against the woman's shoulder and clutched at her chest. She felt herself sobbing, hot tears on her cheek, wetness on her face against D'ahl's clothes. "Mom, I don't know what to do. I don't."
"It'll be okay," D'ahl murmured, petting her head. She imitated her mothers voice just like D'aijeen had taught her to.
"I don't know what to do, mom," D'aijeen repeated, weaker this time. This was a cowardly way to use D'ahl, and humiliating in front of D'hein. But it was easy and calming to play the role. It was like enacting a ritual to invoke motherly comfort, the hushes and whispers that she had missed out on by leaving home so young. She felt D'ahl kiss the side of her head, and made her feel what she thought love must feel like, how K'airos sometimes came so close to making her feel. D'ahl was the perfect, loyal surrogate: a reliable source for this synthetic love.
D'ahl was whispering things to her, but D'aijeen had not listened to the words. She knew the mantra that D'ahl had written to comfort her little girl, her favorite child. It bypassed her thoughts and massaged her spirit directly. D'aijeen pulled at D'ahl's chest as she could will it closer, warmer. She said, "D'hein needs to leave."
"He's gone," D'ahl replied, "Likely... overwhelmed."
D'aijeen nodded and lifted her head away from D'ahl's shoulder, strands of green hair sticking to her wet face. "I don't know what to do, mom. I don't..."
"Oh, little Aijee." D'ahl wrapped an arm behind D'aijeen's head, pulled her forward, and kissed her lips. D'aijeen leaned her body into the other woman's.
Apparently the Nunh intended to starve the woman into not just mating, but pregnancy as well. It was a terrible plan, of course. An immature child's plan. It was easily undone by bringing the woman foodstuffs and company.
The thin, straight bridge that led from the square to the tower wherein D'ahl's apartment was located passed over some of the more privileged streets in Ul'dah. D'aijeen walked proudly over the heads of many of Ul'dah's Syndicate-affiliate residents before reaching the tower and heading inward to D'ahl's apartment. She didn't knock, her welcome assumed as it always was, and proceeded past the mirrored foyer into the nearly invisible hallway with bold certainty.
She did not stop until she found herself facing an unexpected person, D'hein Tia, who had been walking outward and stopped wide-eyed on D'aijeen's sudden appearance. He was disheveled, bloody-faced and bruised, his robe wrinkled and twisted and his steps rather weak. He stood in silence, expression twisted, blinking at D'aijeen until something hit him from behind, causing him to stumble forward.
D'ahl appeared then, kicking D'hein forward, "Go on! Get out!"
"Please cease!" D'hein said, glaring behind him, "You'll know me into D'aijeen."
D'aijeen stepped to one side, smiling when she saw that D'ahl had done up her hair and donned the glasses to alter her appearance pleasingly. Like in preparation for D'aijeen's return. "I'm out of the way now! You can continue. Hello."
"Hello, dear," D'ahl replied, then kicked D'hein again, "Continue walking, Tia!"
"Presently." D'hein's tail was whipping around in dumb agitation, thwacking against the many-mirrored walled beside him noisily. He turned his attention on D'aijeen, blue eyes simmering with frustration, "You, miss inappropriate affectations! What have you done to your mother to terrify her so?"
Her green lips smirking, D'aijeen quipped, "D'ahl does not appear intimidated by anyone."
"No, in Drybone," he replied, "The woman from Sagolii. Antimony. Your actual mother?"
"What? Anti..."
"Enough!" D'ahl threw her body into the man, small but strong enough to send him stumbling again. "This is not something either of us need grief from you on!"
"Wait!" D'aijeen jumped between the two Miqo'te, white clothes on very dark skin presenting a very starkly contrasted, frail form between them. Her arms were spread to either side, head dipped low, eyes glaring from behind her bangs. "You!... You!" Her hands turns to fists and slammed down on her thighs, "You were behind that! It was you!"
"Ah," D'hein found his feet, took a steadying breath, adjust his robes. "Yes, I do take credit for that."
"You heinous deceiver!" D'aijeen shouted, her tail shiver and puffing out behind her so that it was almost as thick as her waist. "Loathsome! Manipualtive! You knew... you... You sought her out and-"
"The details are unimportant," D'hein delivered flatly. "I found your mother and delivered her to yourself and K'airos. From what I can tell, K'airos accepted her and you made some kind of threat. What did you do?"
"Not half of what I'm going to do to you, D'hein Tia!" D'aijeen's low voice somehow became thinner when she shouted, her lungs trying to create great noise on an especially modest amount of air. Nothing made her feel her own frailty like anger. "The confusion you caused my poor K'airos! The lie of it! The absolute-"
D'hein crossed his arms, "Don't pretend its a lie. Your mother is alive and well, and both she and K'airos are extremely happy. You're the only one standing between them."
"Oh, K'airos is happy?" D'aijeen's head snapped up, leaned forward, fixed D'hein with wide eyes that had teared up in frustration, "How do you know? What have you done? What've you done? Where is my K'airos?"
D'hein averted his eyes, "I have taken no action."
"Liar! You've seen her! You've seen them!"
D'ahl's hands fell on D'aijeen's shoulders, calm but solid, and she leaned her head over the woman's shoulder as she said, "I think it would be best if we do not kill D'hein." Her glare moved to the Tia, "Difficult as that may be."
"Then he needs to leave immediately!" D'aijeen shifted underneath D'ahl's hands, but did not break free. "Manipulating my K'airos! My K'airos!"
D'hein gestured wide with his hands, "D'ahl, D'aijeen needs to accept her mother!"
"She has!" D'ahl pulled the smaller, frail woman against her, wrapping her arms around her and holding her fast in place.
D'aijeen responded first by pitching forward, pressing her hands against D'ahl's, just reacting to the fact that she had been pulled off balance. She didn't want to be held! Her mind was full of images of that woman that K'airos had found in Drybone -- her mother -- and of the conflict it had struck between the sisters D'aijeen and K'airos. D'hein couldn't know what he had done, but he should! K'airos needed to believe that their mother was dead. One lie, one alone, she needed to believe, and she would stay with D'aijeen forever.
It was the only thing keeping K'airos in Thanalan, the lie that the tribe had been destroy. That their mother was dead. That was all. Without that...
K'airos would go home. To people she loved more.
And D'aijeen would be alone.
"Mom!" D'aijeen spun around in D'ahl's hands, pitched her head against the woman's shoulder and clutched at her chest. She felt herself sobbing, hot tears on her cheek, wetness on her face against D'ahl's clothes. "Mom, I don't know what to do. I don't."
"It'll be okay," D'ahl murmured, petting her head. She imitated her mothers voice just like D'aijeen had taught her to.
"I don't know what to do, mom," D'aijeen repeated, weaker this time. This was a cowardly way to use D'ahl, and humiliating in front of D'hein. But it was easy and calming to play the role. It was like enacting a ritual to invoke motherly comfort, the hushes and whispers that she had missed out on by leaving home so young. She felt D'ahl kiss the side of her head, and made her feel what she thought love must feel like, how K'airos sometimes came so close to making her feel. D'ahl was the perfect, loyal surrogate: a reliable source for this synthetic love.
D'ahl was whispering things to her, but D'aijeen had not listened to the words. She knew the mantra that D'ahl had written to comfort her little girl, her favorite child. It bypassed her thoughts and massaged her spirit directly. D'aijeen pulled at D'ahl's chest as she could will it closer, warmer. She said, "D'hein needs to leave."
"He's gone," D'ahl replied, "Likely... overwhelmed."
D'aijeen nodded and lifted her head away from D'ahl's shoulder, strands of green hair sticking to her wet face. "I don't know what to do, mom. I don't..."
"Oh, little Aijee." D'ahl wrapped an arm behind D'aijeen's head, pulled her forward, and kissed her lips. D'aijeen leaned her body into the other woman's.