Dhemgeim sat in a room in the Quicksand, on the bed with her feet in the ground and elbows pillared against her knees. She did not look comfortable. The room was hot. An oil lamp had been glowing, but it had only added to the heat so was blown out. Now, she sat in darkness. The din under her feet was still audible, only growing more irritating. Like some insect buzzing in her room that could not be found or rid of.
Just as the cacophony from the tavern was not as it seemed, the woman did not feel at all a woman at that moment. She was a storm. The sea lay within her and it was not calm. Clouds roiled and thundered, and the rain poured. She would have made bad company to anyone who stood before her, caught within the gales that would have easily torn asunder any mast. This was why she sat in the dark. Why she was so furious and why she sat alone were an answer one and the same. The more she thought about it, the more the storm grew. Soon, she felt, it was going to overtake her and she would become more storm than woman rather than as she was now; a woman carrying the storm within.
Tausenadel was gone. She had no idea how else to put it. Off, wandering somewhere probably. Finding something exciting to tame or some... maybe some new lass to sleep with. Dhemgeim’s shoulders quivered, the storm nearly escaping from its shell. But she was not a smart woman. She imagined those arms; the first arms that had held her with any real love. Then she thought of them, around some imaginary woman out there in Eorzea and her whole back spasmed. She felt like destroying her room, destroying everything in her sight and then finding something else to upend. Instead, she sat there in the humid and enclosed.
What she missed was his jokes. No one was as witty at their banter, and as thoroughly as she tried to tease or jest, no one could pick up her end to carry off like he did. She liked the way he had lifted her. No one would even think to lift Dhemgeim right over their shoulder, like she was some spring lass. Not before, and now not even after. Where was he? Did he miss her in the ways she missed him? Did he think of her?
A hand lashed out and struck the nearby wall.
Shuddering, Dhemgeim was left without answers. She was left alone in a room too humid to sleep. The only thing left was her storm that was ever-threatening. She had thought -- It wasn’t something she could believe breaking, those beliefs that had once been so strong. They had been a fact. While her realm was not broken, she was the one who felt broken when those facts were now in question. Her darling - her dearest - he...
Did he think of her at all? Did he remember their deeds and vows, the silly things they had done in privacy and the bold actions in public? Something within her was sliding, cleaving in half while she sat on that bed. A sudden hiccup rose, but it did not make it entirely. It sat painfully in her chest, and the roegadyn doubled over. She choked, then the hiccup burst free. Her voice hitched, and warm tears.
The storm did not rage under her skin.
Dhemgeim choked as she tried to stop crying. All she wished right then was for a hand to hold, familiar and pocked in scars. She opened her mouth wide to scream, but the only thing that came out was the quietest whimper. Her whole body hurt. It had ached all day with the pain and now she was overwhelmed, sinking. Wishing for help was in vain. Dhemgeim knew that by now, her nights that were filled with pain and loneliness never once answered.
This was her fault, she told herself. She had driven him away, so wracked by confusion and indecision. It was her fault for isolating Tausenadel from her heart and mind. She knew this now, and she could do nothing over it. He was gone. No one would lift her. No one to... laugh like he had. One less person who made her feel less like a strong roegadyn, but like a person. A tender, feeling woman who could love as much as she was loved. She’d lost this great thing, so mighty and astounding.
Dhemgeim had broken her own heart, and she was drowning in it now. She moved into the bed, laying atop the sheets. The tears still warmed her cheeks, breaths just small gasps while her body wrung in a pain that was new. No amount of guilt or fear felt as she did now. No sword or lance had dug so deep into her. It was new and ravaging, leaving the woman in shakes against the bed while she tried to breathe and think. It took several minutes, until finally she could lay there with the pain. It was a dull ache, emitting from a hollow between her breasts. She opened her mouth, of a mind to scream to fill the hollow. Not wanting the attention, she refrained. Instead, Dhemgeim wondered.
Would he return? What would she do until he did, or if he never did? He had been her entire realm... Had she told him that? The woman, for a moment, doubted that she had. It had just been such a simple fact but one so easily overlooked at the time. It was not something, she felt, she would be able to let go. No matter who came close to her right now - Hornet, Hundrbera came to mind - she mourned the man whom she’d pushed away. Who had been boyish and mature in the same breath. Her myna, now lost out somewhere. Maybe he’d even gone across the seas.
Just as the cacophony from the tavern was not as it seemed, the woman did not feel at all a woman at that moment. She was a storm. The sea lay within her and it was not calm. Clouds roiled and thundered, and the rain poured. She would have made bad company to anyone who stood before her, caught within the gales that would have easily torn asunder any mast. This was why she sat in the dark. Why she was so furious and why she sat alone were an answer one and the same. The more she thought about it, the more the storm grew. Soon, she felt, it was going to overtake her and she would become more storm than woman rather than as she was now; a woman carrying the storm within.
Tausenadel was gone. She had no idea how else to put it. Off, wandering somewhere probably. Finding something exciting to tame or some... maybe some new lass to sleep with. Dhemgeim’s shoulders quivered, the storm nearly escaping from its shell. But she was not a smart woman. She imagined those arms; the first arms that had held her with any real love. Then she thought of them, around some imaginary woman out there in Eorzea and her whole back spasmed. She felt like destroying her room, destroying everything in her sight and then finding something else to upend. Instead, she sat there in the humid and enclosed.
What she missed was his jokes. No one was as witty at their banter, and as thoroughly as she tried to tease or jest, no one could pick up her end to carry off like he did. She liked the way he had lifted her. No one would even think to lift Dhemgeim right over their shoulder, like she was some spring lass. Not before, and now not even after. Where was he? Did he miss her in the ways she missed him? Did he think of her?
A hand lashed out and struck the nearby wall.
Shuddering, Dhemgeim was left without answers. She was left alone in a room too humid to sleep. The only thing left was her storm that was ever-threatening. She had thought -- It wasn’t something she could believe breaking, those beliefs that had once been so strong. They had been a fact. While her realm was not broken, she was the one who felt broken when those facts were now in question. Her darling - her dearest - he...
Did he think of her at all? Did he remember their deeds and vows, the silly things they had done in privacy and the bold actions in public? Something within her was sliding, cleaving in half while she sat on that bed. A sudden hiccup rose, but it did not make it entirely. It sat painfully in her chest, and the roegadyn doubled over. She choked, then the hiccup burst free. Her voice hitched, and warm tears.
The storm did not rage under her skin.
Dhemgeim choked as she tried to stop crying. All she wished right then was for a hand to hold, familiar and pocked in scars. She opened her mouth wide to scream, but the only thing that came out was the quietest whimper. Her whole body hurt. It had ached all day with the pain and now she was overwhelmed, sinking. Wishing for help was in vain. Dhemgeim knew that by now, her nights that were filled with pain and loneliness never once answered.
This was her fault, she told herself. She had driven him away, so wracked by confusion and indecision. It was her fault for isolating Tausenadel from her heart and mind. She knew this now, and she could do nothing over it. He was gone. No one would lift her. No one to... laugh like he had. One less person who made her feel less like a strong roegadyn, but like a person. A tender, feeling woman who could love as much as she was loved. She’d lost this great thing, so mighty and astounding.
Dhemgeim had broken her own heart, and she was drowning in it now. She moved into the bed, laying atop the sheets. The tears still warmed her cheeks, breaths just small gasps while her body wrung in a pain that was new. No amount of guilt or fear felt as she did now. No sword or lance had dug so deep into her. It was new and ravaging, leaving the woman in shakes against the bed while she tried to breathe and think. It took several minutes, until finally she could lay there with the pain. It was a dull ache, emitting from a hollow between her breasts. She opened her mouth, of a mind to scream to fill the hollow. Not wanting the attention, she refrained. Instead, Dhemgeim wondered.
Would he return? What would she do until he did, or if he never did? He had been her entire realm... Had she told him that? The woman, for a moment, doubted that she had. It had just been such a simple fact but one so easily overlooked at the time. It was not something, she felt, she would be able to let go. No matter who came close to her right now - Hornet, Hundrbera came to mind - she mourned the man whom she’d pushed away. Who had been boyish and mature in the same breath. Her myna, now lost out somewhere. Maybe he’d even gone across the seas.
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