#yuna & dona tbt.

[braskide]

❝  he has the strength of an ox. and sadly the grace of an ox as well.  ❞ (from Dona)

𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝; what tenderness has to be had when a spiral of death leaves trails of anger? yuna has few memories of true happiness throughout the years — once her mantle of naïveté came undone amidst pain and anguish, she promised herself she would not let the world crumble in sadness. today, she resides over what yevon would never allow in the halls of old bevelle: pure joy with intricated hands with friends, family and loved ones. a ball of some sort had become the event of the moment, one high summoner yuna would be the host of. she's careful with pushing boundries within the new bevelle, and yet something calls her heart for vindication of all the time spent believing falsehood. so she allows herself this moment of peace, of joy — and she personally sent for dona to attend, the new lead of kilika.

and how pleasant it has been, for them to eye one another across the sacred halls as more influent people swarmed the place — with a nod of her head directed at dona, and a tug of her lips, as she then returned to conversation with other figures that demanded the high summoner's attention now that she had allowed herself out of her work ridden chambers.

it is not much after yuna allows herself rest and respite, finally free of the hold of any new small conversation. she is always content to see familiar faces and ones that chant of her incredible dedication, but she realizes as of late how lonely sitting atop bevelle truly feels. she adheres to the side of the halls, chalice in hand as she hides her lips, and her eyes beam with surprise and joy when the familiar figure she had been happy to see joins her side, quietly and shuffling at her side. the high summoner is quick to offer her a similar cup found behind them with a polite nod, words coming from her lips as she accepts her offer.

❝ he has the strength of an ox. and sadly the grace of an ox as well. ❞

yuna's eyes point towards where dona's gaze rests, finding the figure of barthello left unattended at the center of the grand hall, curious of the subject in question. her hands retract to herself, cup laying against her arm, laughter erupting silently and filling her lungs — though it is short lived, as her lips turn to rest into a straight line, yet still upholding in curvers at the corner as barthello insists on performing traditional kilika dance moves that yuna almost fails to recognize. a calm silence follows, one yuna basks in for a moment long. ❝ i wish sir auron was here to see him. ❞ the flower of nostalgia blossoms deep within her chest, eyes at times misty with memories — thus yuna inches closer to dona, her arm shamelessly interliking with hers, now forced in proximity as she does so, yet unable to look at her, truly look at her, for too much must unravel if she allows herself to look into the dark pools of her eyes, and thus her gaze continues to wander off where dona's companion entertains the crowd. ❝ he would have thought the same as you, i'm sure. ❞

#main verse tag. #dona & yuna tbt. #i.. . really love their dynamic for our main verses!!!!! #two leaders of such influential places!!!!

[braskide]

‘  i’m not really scared to die.  i’m more afraid that no one will miss me when i’m gone.  ’ (from Dona)

𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗱, 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗿 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝘀𝗲. the years have washed over them, slipped away from their hands with apparent ease, yet it shows in the lines of their faces now, the fatigue pinned at the corner of the straight lips as yuna looks up from where she sits, eyes met with a familiar figure that had been sitting in a distorted and intermitted silence with her, one that she would not necessarily call uncomfortable.

when she met dona, back then — they were young, and yuna more naive than the older, yet they defended themselves from the other, as if the thought of dona pouncing at her any moment was ever present. dona was at times intense in a way yuna could never understand, not entirely at the very least — she had tried to see the world through her eyes at times, but would never quite grasp the reality of hers, not for lack of want, but two planets that are bound to forever gravitate into each other's orbit will never clash course and become one, and eventually, instead, they shall drift away from one another. in truth, time has been essential to mend wounds. she was no longer the lost young summoner of long ago, and dona shared that trait with her, although the finale has been written differently for each: a high summoner sits across the ghost of potential, of great promise; a shell of a what a great high summoner could have been.

perhaps, yuna prefers it this way, in her own selfish way of thinking. dona saw her as a rival when she was nothing but braska's daughter, and now that yuna's shadow has been cast in the same way as of her father if not in bigger grandiosity, she feels like the mantle she carries is better suited for someone like dona, one that would withstand anything — yet, yuna could never wish to have seen her turn into a statue. and dona would have been a golden one, rich with tradition and flowers thrown at her feet. but yuna sees her now as they face one another in maturity, and the thought of dona standing tall in front of yunalesca trespasses the strings of her heart. would she have done the same, knowing the truth? would she have turned herself into the hero spira has never deserved regardless?

yuna's lashes flutter, taken out of her rapture, dona's silky voice creating the arrow that shoots through her chest once more. their reality is not as ephemeral as it used to be and through its realization, it made them become new figures, ones that perhaps have little knowledge about what one's life is supposed to turn out to be. they were both so young and life barely at the beginning of its short immensity, yet — counted days. now? kilika and bevelle, so far away and so different, resplending their impact on both of their figures, showing the intricacies of their different characters. yet, still, no matter how far a drifting orbit dona would turn out to be, yuna finds herself wishing for her to reconnect, find the missing pieces of a puzzle they became of one another. ❝ i think you're wrong, ❞ her voice starts softly, yet the weight of the words' importance shows.

( 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽. 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗋𝗇. )

it's a daring concept to think one might make the former summoner believe anything coming from her might be wrong, but yuna does so regardless, defying every unspoken rule between them as she has done since meeting her eyes first, years pass. ❝ how dare you? ❞ her attention is undividedly lost on the hazel of dona's eyes, melting mismatched eyes into her stare. brows furrow as to show the signs of the damage of her words, head tilting and coming forward, almost invading her space. yuna's soft spoken voice is lost somewhere along the years, her long hair falling from her shoulders. there's something dangerous that dona is implying, and it makes the apparent resting fire inside ignite and blaze. sin is a scar they carry, ever present — yuna knows it. ❝ i would miss you, ❞ yuna knows pity is not what dona searches for, but something tells her she knows what her words mean; anything but pity, compassion, mercy.

( 𝙞𝙩 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙨 𝙥𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚. 𝙞 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚. 𝙞𝙩 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙨 𝙞 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪. )

❝ i would never forgive you. ❞ it stings, like nails on board. but yuna keeps her stare, piercing and unforgiving, soft around the corners, tears hiding in plain sight on her lids. it hits her, as it should never do so for a high summoner — but things have changed, for better and for worse.

#starvingtongue #yuna & dona tbt. #i. ✲ a gentleness that comes not from absence of violence ; but despite the abundance of it. #soooo.. .. i'm emotional :^ ) #i love them.. ...... .. !! #yuna: so how dare u even say that like :/ i would miss ur ass :/ and ur being like this :/ ur the most important person ever :/