#AURHEATUM

[starrook]

“Prince Alcryst, a moment?” Rhea asks, jingling a bit as she does so; “I am here on behalf of your winter envoy. Seasons blessings and best of luck should you wish to find and thank him.” The Brodian’s present is a copy of a book titled "Fodlan Fishing guide", and a lucky lure in the shape of a dark blue fish with droopy red eyes. It supposedly carries a blessing that attracts more and rarer fish.

"Y-Yes!" Alcryst straightens up when he's called, only relaxing slightly when he sees the Archbishop in... jinglebells? There's no chance to comment before she hands him his gifts.

Fódlan Fishing Guide. Alcryst's eyes light up once he recognizes the cover. It's a popular book in the library, so much so he's only been able to sign it out once. Even so, knowing it could be borrowed made it hard to justify buying himself a personal copy... now, there's no room for debate. He'll have to show this to Diamant first chance he gets.

The lure looks familiar somehow...

...but Alcryst can't quite place it. (Sorry gifter.) He doubts it'll be so lucky in his hands, but the only way to know is to put it to the test!

"Archbishop Rhea... could you tell me who gave me my gifts? I'd like to thank them..."

#toaseasonsgreetings #answered #aurheatum #my strategy is to ask nicely :D

[aubins]

“Yuri, season’s blessings,” Rhea greets, and carefully hands over their winter envoy’s gift with the gentlest of touches. It is a bouquet of candied roses; Using egg whites and baker's sugar, rose petals have been crystallized into sweet treats and rearranged in their former shape. The bouquet contains twelve flowers, with the twelfth being a real rose that has had its thorn removed.

“Lady Rhea,” they return with an incline of their head. “Aren't you just dashing? Who could've guessed that the archbishop herself would be delivering my present,” Yuri continues dryly, carefully taking the bouquet that she passes over. “But”— a flash of a smile, almost genuine— “season's blessings, Lady Rhea.”

They shift their grip on the bouquet, peering closer at the candied rose petals. Quite a lot of effort to go through for eleven times just for little old him. What had those kids written on the form when they signed him up for this little gift exchange anyhow? Though, from the state of their gift, Yuri can guess.

Flowers are nice— remind them of, well, not easier times, but simpler ones. And they'll make a nice treat to pass around Abyss to stave the kids off until they manage another supply of sugar in Abyss. It's a charming gift. Yuri plucks a petal for themself to try, unable to hide the pleased twitch of their lips.

Goddess. When was the last time they had some sugar?

“Well, thanks for coming all this way, Lady Archbishop,” they say, gaze flicking back to their deliverer. Yuri plucks another petal from their bouquet, offering it out. “Here. One for your efforts. I'm sure there's plenty of gifts left to deliver.”

#aurheatum #toaseasonsgreetings #❛ 𝐈𝐍𝐁𝐎𝐗. i worry that love is violence #cute gift :]

[rafent]

25. A birthday memory

25. a birthday memory

The annual date of his birth often passed without celebration, and in this regard, most sons and daughters of Sombron were the same.

In place of festivity shared with others, their fingers clasped together in solitude and their eyes closed upon a desire of their bottomless yearning. It was no less ancient a tradition than the blood-battles of twins that defined them. Centuries in passing have yielded the very same pose on a Fell Child's quietly murmured wish, sometimes the same, other times different- Rafal himself could only remember the three he had crystallized so strongly his heart quivered to see them real.

I wish for a dragonstone.

I wish to live another year.

I wish to be stronger than anyone.

Once he had wanted for these things like nothing else. Perhaps simpler days had even allowed for simpler wishes. But as for these days- these days were the darkest.

Beneath the overlooking silence and hole-ridden roof of Lythos Castle, a shimmering blue at his fingertips cast light upon his fallen sister's body. They illuminated his blisters too- scorches from the intensity and duration of the healing sessions that would one day revive Nel. One day. As a bead of sweat trickled down his temple, only a wiggling sensation of something missed caused Rafal to set his hands down, pointing his gaze at a notch on the wall.

The three hundred sixty fifth tally. Substitute for a day of the year. December 31st—another birthday.

Knowing exactly what to wish for, he straightened to sit properly on his folded knees and clasped his fingers together in a tradition never-ending. Perhaps this would be the year, he speculated. Perhaps in this century his deepest desire could come true, he yearned. And then. . .he wished.

"I wish for Nel to wake up."

#◜ ₊ — 𝓡 ˚ ₊ 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ╱ drabble. #aurheatum #wym 1000 years of miserable lonely birthdays isn't enough to repent #engage spoilers

[luminousrider]

Just Dance 2023

White Heron Cup starter for @hosannan @bxldrsdraumar @aurheatum

Entering the contest seemed like a great idea at first. After her embarrassing defeats at arm wrestling and meatball eating, this could give her the chance to prove to Linus that she isn't just some chump. Nanna is probably the most elegant and graceful person she knows. With her as a partner, she's sure to have a leg up in winning, even if she herself is hardly a dancer.

Then she learns who they will be dancing against and her confidence dissipates almost immediately. Sigurd, legendary hero and her mother's brother, partnered with the leader of Fódlan's religion. Two figures very much larger than life. The bit of time she had spent practicing with Nanna beforehand was nowhere near enough time to prepare for this.

But she's not about to back down!

"Well," she turns to Nanna with a nod, "let's do this." She offers her hand and the two Thracians begin the dance they had been working on. It's a lively dance but nothing overly complex. They'd only had a short time to prepare something, after all.

Step to the left. Clap. Turn. Step to the right. Clap.

It isn't terribly difficult but Altena finds herself watching Nanna a bit too closely trying to copy her movements. She's out of sync, just slightly behind. If she had just been more confident in memorizing the steps, she'd have had it down.

Style: 6, Choreography: 2, Technique: 8, Total: 16

#toaball2023 #whiteheroncup2023 #hosannan #bxldrsdraumar #aurheatum #| thread | just dance 2023

[enarmor]

“Sir Sain,” Rhea says, “season’s blessings! I can tell your winter envoy has put much thought and effort into your gift, and so I pray you may find and thank them.” The gift in question is a bottle of polish, with a label: ‘Master Lynx’s polish for melee metel. Armour and weapon polish to make you shine on the battlefield. Aldrestia Rose scented.’ Attached is a note written in chicken scratch with the words 'Merry festivities. I hope this gift helps grab you a girl or at least offers you more confidence as you go about your day.'

"Ah, fairest archbishop! You sell yourself short!" Sain greets with a wide-eyed smile, looking past the bottle in Rhea's hands to gaze longingly at her eyes. Where emerald and jolly jade meet, there is static. Static love, static romance--the electrifying current that binds a knight to his lady. He takes a step closer. "Just look at you, dressed in such fineries as you deliver my gift. You, my dear, are the greatest gift of all. My heart soars to see you!"

He giggles, but presses no further. Though Sain aches for the tenderness of love, he is no fool. She's rejected him enough times to kill any true desire to her hand. As they stand, she is his employer, and he is her handful of a knight. He plucks the bottle from her fingers.

And smoothing it over, can't help looking impressed! The glint in his eyes only grows as he smooths over the label of the polish, as well as the hastily-written note. "Ah, though I'd wager fate has something else in store. Get this, Rhea beloved: my mistress fancies herself a lynx." This is far from the truth, but when has Sain ever huddled close to it in the first place? "Hidden beneath a veil of secrecy, she delivers her enchantment to me! I can picture it now, she's stalking me like prey, ready for me to become her ideal man-thing." And he seems not at all concerned. In fact, the idea (the one he put in his own head, yes) that a woman would be interested enough to hunt him provides lift to his shoulders. He feels suspended in air, as if an angel's wings would carry him to his one-and-only. "All I need to do is put this on, and then we'll leap into one another's hands!"

The bottle flourishes in his hand before entering a palmed grip. He thanks Rhea with a wink, and turns around--fire in his footsteps. "And I'm off! Don't stop me, dear, this is destiny!"

#IC #ASKBOX #AURHEATUM #toaseasonsgreetings #//polar opposite to larcei's ask btw #//he IS trying to find a match with this #//and though i'm 99% sure i know who this is. sain definitely has the wrong idea #//this is like a warning

[renaisguy]

“Hello there,” the archbishop greets Forde warmly, shaking his hand, “I come on behalf of your winter envoy. Please if you will wait but one moment.” She pulls his gift out from a bag before leaving it with him - it is a thick deck of Elyosian playing cards. Each face card depicts one of the storied Emblems. One tender-hearted queen might look a little familiar…

“Thank you!” Forde salutes the archbishop before she leaves (saluting isn’t right, he knows, but leaving her without some formal gesture would be wrong).

Once alone, he looks through the cards. They’re an incredible gift, he thinks as he looks through them. Playing cards are just nice, aren’t they? A great way to spend an afternoon with friends, free from worry. And the art is simply incredible, with such a confident style Forde could only dream of.

He sorts through the cards to see all the art, but hesitates when he sees the queen of diamonds. A lady who looks just like Eirika… no, she was Eirika. Forde smiles as he continues looking through, what a lovely surprise. Reaching the king of spades, he recognises the man as a knight he’s fought with.

So the gifter was someone at this academy, who drew the face cards based on the people they’d met here? That explanation didn’t feel right to him, but what else could it be? He’d have to ask around…

#Aurheatum #toaseasonsgreetings #//of course I have already decided what card corresponds to each emblem

[carmennivis]

“Hello, young Nils,” Rhea greets, “I have come to deliver gifts on behalf of your mysterious winter envoy. They seem to have been very considerate toward your needs, I do hope you are one day able to thank them,” saying this she hands him a basket containing a light, breathable shawl meant to block the sun's rays but allow for wind to pass through, and a collection of salty snack foods that both allow for a restoration of natural minerals and are often popular among children (garlicky and spicy crackers, salted nuts with dry fruit and candy pieces mixed in, etc.)

“Oh, Lady Rhea…?” Nils looked at her attire, a little confused initially but impressed by the design, as well as how beautiful it looked on her. “You’ve come to deliver the gifts yourself? Thank you!”

He opened the present to find a beautiful shawl, perfectly sized for his needs. Immediately trying it on, he was delighted by how breathable and cool it was. The suns rays also felt a little less harsh on his pale skin, which only served to delight him further. He did a little twirl, the fabric waving in the wind. It was when he did so that he realized.

(It’s.. almost just like the shawl Ninian wears…)

That realization only served to make it even more precious to him. He didn’t know if the gifter did so intentionally, but the connection made him extremely happy. The snacks were also much appreciated, a he was quite fond of salty snacks. He did have to hide his grimace a little at the spicy crackers but. They couldn’t have known that he had poor spice tolerance. All in all, he was extremely pleased with his gifts.

“Thank you so much, Milady..! I’ll have to make sure I give proper thanks to the person who gave it to me!”

With how personalized the gifts seemed to have been, his first thought was that the gift may have come from someone already familiar…

#(answered) #toaseasonsgreetings #(Rhea) #aurheatum

[optimismxmagicism]

“Season’s blessings to you,” Rhea beams down at Ewan: “it seems your winter envoy has come through in record time! Please accept their gift, and if you can find them — do give them your thanks!” Without further ado Rhea presents the unwrapped gift to the boy. It is an intricately designed box with a mirror in it, looking closer it seems the mirror makes the box look empty even if something may or may not be inside. How tricky!

“Seasons Greasons right back atcha miss Rhea!” Ewan said with a cheerful smile. He realized who he was talking to of course, but figured that he could be a bit more casual, considering the holidays that are going on.

What interested him much more though was the present she handed him. His eyes sparkled with excitement as he opened the box to find… another box!! And he opened that box to find.. nothing!!

…wait huh?

He looked at the box with slight confusion, tilting it around he noticed the mirror, as well as the fake bottom. Oohhh.. it was a trick box! Ooh the things he could do with that… sneak snacks into class.. or maybe hide some devious pranks within it.. all things he couldn’t say out loud with the Archbishop right hecking there of course. Still this was nifty!

“Thanks so much for the delivery! I’ll make sure to find whoever gave me this so I can give em a proper thanks! …you don’t haven to have a hint to help a boy out, do ya?”

#toaseasonsgreetings #(answered) #(Rhea) #aurheatum

[nagaficat]

kiss on the top of the head, cupping their face gently

Deirdre always looks forward to the tea times she shares with Lady Rhea. She is a cherished friend, she brought her beloved Sigurd back to her, and each day she continues to provide companionship and guidance. Without her, Deirdre is certain she would be lost.

Today she sits in her typical chair across from the archbishop smiling and laughing as the two women recount the events of the previous week to each other. Rhea rises, moves to Deirdre's side, and holds her face gently in her hands before placing a sweet kiss atop a mass of wild, silver curls.

Deirdre looks up and smiles at her, glad for the easy intimacy between them even if it does send a swarm of butterflies swirling about her gut.

"Ah, my lady, as always, you are far too kind to me~"

#aurheatum

[sacaeblade]

[tehe pretend i sent this earlier]

“Lyndis,” Rhea approaches the woman once their group has settled in Dragonshill, “or do you prefer Lyn?” She cants her head to the side at the question, for while they have not met before Rhea hears much and she knows this warrior of Elibe goes by both; names tended to be important, no matter one’s origin.

(And sometimes precisely because of that).

“In any case, I never did get the chance to thank you for your assistance earlier; I pray that your other former crewmates have also found shore safely. I plan to ask at the harbor for information on any other foreign ships, but please let me know if there is anything else I can do for you. Though I may only be archbishop in name here I do feel a sense of responsibility.”

Outside of battle, the archbishop's demeanor is serene, a far cry from the righteous anger she had leveled at their would-be captors. Her green eyes, lighter in color than Lyn's own, regard her with interest.

"Either is fine; they're both my name," Lyn responds with an easy smile. "Although I have to admit that I'm still not used to hearing people call me by my full name. It had... been a name that only my parents called me until a precious few years ago. For a time, I thought I would never hear it again. That I am able to hear it spoken again is a reminder of their love."

What's in a name? A parent's hopes for their child, blessings for the future, well-wishes for the person they hope they will become. For some, the way they're addressed is a boundary, a line that should not be crossed, or for others, a form of affection. She is Lyn to some. She is Lyndis to others. Most call her whatever name she introduces herself with or whatever name they feel is most correct for their station.

"Whichever it is that you're more comfortable with is what you should call me, Lady Rhea."

It is not just the exchanging of names that the archbishop is interested in, though. If it were, she would perhaps simply walk off to the next person. She remains and thanks Lyn for her assistance.

(How is everyone else who had been on the ship? She had seen neither hide nor hair of some of the people who should have been here.)

Lyn shakes her head, "I should be the one thanking you. If it hadn't been for your prowess with the sword, we probably would have been in more danger than we already were. I had not expected that an 'archbishop' would be so skilled with the blade. You were truly impressive back there."

#⚔️ ic #aurheatum #⚔️ support: rhea #svzofia2023 #<for my own organization #//AAAAAA THIS TOOK SO LONG i had so many thoughts about what rhea said and then i (tv static) #//lyn is miss no honorifics but i think rhea's position is close enough to athos in her mind that she'd at least try

[regnumaves]

In the Name of the Goddess, Square Up ❁ Tibarn & Rhea

@aurheatum ; Gauntlets +1

"Will freely admit, Archbishop, I didn’t take you for someone fond of throwing hands at first.” A good-hearted chuckle follows Tibarn’s words. “But, who am I to judge. I’ve met women who looked gentle, but could actually tear off my wings.”

He leans against the barriers of the small balcony stretching above the hall where the training is meant to take place, watching the slowly gathering group. A few more students arrive; scrawny Mages by the looks of it, every one of them. Studying their postures and body builds briefly, the Hawk cannot help but think a little of the likes of Soren and Reyson.

And by that, he means that he gets a feeling these kids might just hurt themselves more than they do the opponent if they try to throw a punch.

Well, uhhh, there is a nurse present for the demonstrations so hopefully the poor sods get quickly patched up if that happens. But also, hey, Tibarn would be the last person to discourage someone from training of all things.

“Though I’ve seen you train with a sword, too. You like to be versatile, aren’t you?” He adds, a hint of curiosity and amusement both in his voice. “We laguz stay well away from beo—” She probably doesn’t know the word, does she— “... human weapons, for the most part. We’ve got our claws and talons, and we’re set.” Well, so he says, though Kurthnaga certainly has been trying his hand at new things. But that one is curious to begin with. Anyway. So - were you the one that students went to for gauntlet practice before I showed up?”

#aurheatum #❁ thread ; in the name of the goddess square up. ❁ #❁ all skies shall belong to me ; ic. ❁ #❁ mission season ; racketeering. ❁ #❁ gauntlet +1. ❁ #❁ support ; rhea. ❁

[hresvelged]

(o・・o)/ *smiles*

When you happen to see her within Garreg Mach's finely tuned walls of secrecy, you wear a face of formalities— A princess of Adrestia and the Black Eagles house leader. You surmise she expects you to follow in your father's footsteps as emperor. You will, but your reign will not be like his. When your eyes interlock, you are reminded of your rage. Of the pleas unheard and the two crests forcefully dwelling within you. There is no doubt in your mind that your path is the only way, even if it might lead to her demise. You nod, but you will never kneel.

There is not a timeline where you will allow her to continue her role and propel that which needs to be torn asunder. You must rid this cruel world of the crest system perpetuated by the church. By her. They are no gift from the goddess— You tire of hearing those words, spoken with a veiled smoothness. They only elevate those born into nobility and discard the rest. Fódlan's control is not where it belongs and its citizens are blinded to this. The Archbishop has had the final say longer than any may utter. The weak remain weak because they are not presented the opportunity to change. They are judged by the powerful sitting on thrones. This is true both in Adrestia and here.

Instability is propelled by its leaders, dividing these lands in order to uphold their own power. You blame them. You blame Rhea. At its head is the Archbishop and nothing will alter unless you do something about it. Nobody else will. She will be a formidable foe, but you are not bothered. You will raise your axe at the very sky until Fódlan is freed.

Your paths will never cross.

#( asks ) #aurheatum #( support: rhea ) #edelgard might not like rhea but I Do #i think she's so neat

[goldoanheart]

@aurheatum

She finds him in the gardens, alone for the moment though earlier he had been walking arm and arm with a friend and before that speaking with the cleric Sephiran.

Perhaps it was best to let bygones be bygones but though she had only passed the other by chance his loneliness is palpable, and more than that – familiar.

“Professor,” she greets, approaching him slowly, “I hope despite some of the more unlikely events of the evening you have been able to appreciate the holiday.”

She stands in silence with him for a moment, her own eyes drawn to the stars as they always are in any time of reverie.

“…This anniversary was not always one most related to romantic love. At its founding, Garreg Mach was meant as a place to celebrate bonds of all kinds – particularly familial, for we are all the Goddess’s children.”

Rhea holds out both hands to him with a slightly pained smile.

“If you’d like we can pray together, for whatever bonds you most cherish. I am sure She will hear our prayer.”

Kurthnaga glances up from the ground, eyes still tear stained and bubbling over with an emotion that he couldn't quite begin to explain. Of all the people he would think to come up to him, he was certainly not expecting the archbishop herself to be one of them.

He nods his head, a silent gesture of respect as she speaks, gentle and quiet.

"Lady Rhea... I'm afraid the bond that I would have most wanted to share on this night is far from being attainable... not to say that I don't cherish the ones I have now...! But... well, it's complicated... and I have never been much of one for prayer anyway..." He frowns, casting his gaze back to the ground.

"I'm sorry... I don't mean to fill this beautiful garden with such gloom..."

#ic posts #ic: i'll rely on my own strengths #inbox: i will take this to heart #answering asks #supports: i am growing rather fond of seeing everyone #support: rhea #[support tag: rhea | pending] #events: an oppourtunity not wasted! #event: ethereal ball #toaball2023 #aurheatum

[melusinezephyr]

a kiss from one muse who should be afraid of the other (who is who? up to you!)

kissies :3 (accepting)

In theory, Zephia should be terrified of the monastery's archbishop. If anyone would ever be able to get to roots and expose the secrets that she carried about her existence here in Fodlan, it would be shining and bright scion of the Church that was Rhea.

But she wasn't scared. She should be scared; but since when had Zephia ever abided by the laws of this world. The magic in her blood could destroy everything around if she did not have control over it now. Rhea of all people, no matter how powerful she was to the people here, did not scare her.

"Lady Rhea, just a moment of your time, if I may." She strides over to the other woman, what she meant to do already determined in her heart. Ah, interesting. Rhea had always looked much taller from farther away.

She leans down, tugging Rhea's face up to meet hers in the little distance at remains, intertwining their lips together in a kiss far softer than Zephia herself.

"Pardon my intrusion, I simply couldn't resist any longer, dear."

#ic posts #ic: that's enough out of you #inbox: then by all means try #supports: want me to make it better? #support: rhea #prompts: you think can defeat me and my knight? #prompts: kissies #aurheatum #//wow the pope is a woman kisser. who would have guessed

[aubins]

“It will not happen again,” is all Rhea says to Yuri once she discovers that after a long night’s rest they have decided to go along with Lindhardt on Sister Phoebe’s exertion. 

“It should not have, in the first place,” she continues, gesturing to the puncture marks still evident on his clothes from the many hits the slavers had inflicted. “Rest assured I will stay alert during this journey into these ‘dragon shrines’... with myself and the Hrevring heir supporting you I should think the journey will be a good deal smoother.”

After speaking her face smoothes over into something more serene, though Rhea wonders if her worry had actually come through with those earlier stern words; Yuri has worked for her for some time, after all, and gleans she thinks more than most who work under her. But, she reminds herself, Yuri is not Aubin – no matter what tales that blood might tell and she does not plan to ask; for now, she hopes, her promise of protection and partnership might be enough.

“You're coming, then,” is their response without even a glance up from sorting what little remained of their belongings. Contrary to Linhardt, Yuri expected that their companions to the Dragon Shrines would be few. They hardly know them well, but from what scant few pieces of dialogue they picked up on their journey here, they seemed the upstanding type— the kind that can't resist lending a hand to those in need. They're not surprised that most elected to stay in the village.

In a strange sense of irony, it is Lady Rhea that he dare says he knows best amongst all their companions, yet at the same time, the one he understands the least.

How strange that the Archbishop herself would fret over their safety. If they told their younger self of it, he might've laughed in disbelief. In the plainest sense: she is his superior and he is her spy. Should one die, it would be quite unfortunate indeed for the other, but that is all there is to say of their relationship. If needs must and Yuri truly had passed on that shore, Lady Rhea could always find another to take their place.

(But it doesn't quite work out that way, does it? Not when the matter of Aelfric's intentions is so closely intertwined with the blood in their veins. Thinking of Constance or Balthus or Hapi playing the double agent for the Archbishop in his stead is almost enough to make them laugh.

So, they can't die, really. There's more than one life hinging on their survival.)

“I know you're strong, Lady Rhea,” they say bluntly, “but this isn't Fódlan. I don't think even you can promise that.” They sling their satchel over a shoulder, filled with what scant few of his belongings remain. The edge of their lip quirks as they half-turn toward her, then start for the door. “Death and I are old friends. We tend to greet one another from time to time.” Still, he shrugs. “But I'm flattered that Archbishop Rhea herself is worried over little old me.”

At the door, Yuri lingers, hand on the doorknob. “...Do you think it's possible?” they ask, not turning to look back at her. “What the rumors say, that is. Reviving their gods.” But it's not the question they actually care to hear an answer to.

They've never asked her about the Rite of Rising beyond what was necessary to stall Aelfric's plans. If it would be possible with the blood of the Wolves to bring another back to life, even if four lives for one hardly seems fair. Maybe they don't want to know her answer— or maybe it is that they aren't sure what to do if the answer turns out to be yes.

“I'm supposed to be the one pledging to protect you,” they say dryly as they finally twist the doorknob, pulling the door open. “I can't hold up my end of our deal if I'm dead. So, no need to bother yourself with such declarations for a mere creature as insignificant as I. I'll find a way to scurry out of trouble.”

#aurheatum #toasabbamvitatham2023 #SVZofia2023 #❛ 𝐈𝐍𝐁𝐎𝐗. i worry that love is violence #hello lady rhea :] #thank u for the ask nel i do think their dynamic can be very fun

[swiftscion]

Sword Search

There’s been an anonymous bounty posted on the academy’s bulletin board detailing the search for The Ultimate Sword of Ultimate Heroism. Apparently, it’s been hidden somewhere in the monastery. The mysterious benefactor makes great emphasis on the fact that they deliberately hid it, as is willing to offer a generous reward for any who ‘complete their trial.’

To receive training for the very reason she’s come to Fodlan is a rare and promising opportunity.

The ability to search, to take on this swordperson’s quest and get ever so slightly better at finding what is lost... That means a great deal to Larcei. If she hones her skills, does this sort of thing enough, then who knows? Maybe mother will fall right into her lap.

But as she stands before the bounty board, reading this poorly-scribbled request, the growing crowd around her becomes hard to ignore. Two turns of her head tell her that their eyes are all locked on the same prize as hers: The Ultimate Sword of Ultimate Heroism. Competition’s starting to look stiff, with all sorts of eager students and grizzled knights cropping up to get a look at the mission details. As the mob thickens, it almost becomes a fight to read, Larcei herself having to push and shove to skim the last few details... And then it stops. As though they were split in two by the stroke of a sword, they part. Larcei spins around to locate a root cause, and there she is:

“Lady Rhea?” 

She is a princess from Isaach, but even Larcei knows of her academy’s archbishop. Her presence is iridescent, combining lapidary mannerisms with legendary appearances. If Larcei had to describe it, it’d be like seeing one of the Twelve Crusaders in the flesh, irregardless of her belief in the goddess Sothis. Shock forces her jaw wide open, while awe has her feet carrying her to the side. 

But of the forces that control her, curiosity pushes hardest. 

It bids her to speak, to put that opened mouth to use and seek out a potential partner. With Rhea by her side, Larcei has more than a leg up on her competitors. “Um, hi!” she starts, with a small wave to draw attention, “Are you checking out the latest mission? ‘Says something about an ultimate sword hidden in the monastery. I bet you know this place like the back of your hand...” 

“But if you’re looking for a sword, you might want my help.” In spite of the way she nearly fangirled earlier, the raven-haired manages to wear confidence in her smile. Though she wants to work with Rhea, she knows, deep down, that she is also a valuable asset here. Not once has Larcei forgotten a sword, managing to track down even those misplaced by her brother and cousin in a pinch back home. Weapons are her lifeblood, the art of the sword her bread and butter. In her own mind, there’s nobody more fit for the task. 

“Swords are a huge part of my culture, you see. I know how they think, where they’d be... I even have some ideas for this particular case I’ve been thinkin’ of trying out-- Er, with your permission, of course!”  

//starter for @aurheatum

#IC #THREAD NO. 17 RHEA (SWORD SEARCH) #AURHEATUM #//lmk if you need anything changed! #//this is also a fair bit longer than what i plan on maintaining for the thread adjnandja #//so feel free to reply with whatever length you fancy!