That’s why she will never fall in
love. She is the one who loves harder than anyone. The one who pours a
hundred percent of herself to some lucky person on Earth. She’s the girl who’ll
love unconditionally and loyally, but she’s not a girl anymore, is she? She’s
just fun and games now; she could also be kisses and condoms. It sounds
immature but she likes the control she has over her life, and she’s not about
to ruin it with some petty thing called love.
She maybe a coward or just some girl
with trust issues, but it’s just her defense mechanism. She’s only protecting
herself, because she knows she’ll break if she falls in love. It’s stupid,
really, but Nean knows her limits. She should know, because she is the type to
give her all.
The cinnamon roll that must
be protected by the world.
She may be a hermit when it comes to
love but she sure is undeniably irresistible. She makes everyone love her, with
her hair that’s spun from bronze, and brown–hot choco brown–eyes that
sparkle when she smiles, shy or sly, nobody’s exactly sure. But then, the next
thing you will know, you’re trapped in her delicious hold. Trapped may not be
the right word because you fell of your own volition, but oh well, you’ll love
her forever.
A/N: Posted with permission. I made this for my cousin who does roleplay on Facebook and Tumblr. Disclaimer: I do not own Nean, Tiriel, and Ardyn.
It wasn’t advised to travel the seas
on her final term of pregnancy, but Tiriel had been adamant that she be aboard
the ship Ashayam and see the beauty of the edge of Etro for herself. The
mortal wife of Ardyn had been whisked to all corners of Etro except one, where
the world ends and souls depart.
Ardyn had insisted that he show her
his mother’s beauty before they depart for the mortal blue world of Earth.
Tiriel had readily agreed and through nine months of travel, her stomach grew
as her eyes gratified Etro.
This last journey wouldn’t be as
peaceful it seems. Ardyn finds this mortal wife of his unbending even with her
impending birth. He finds it amusing still, so he acquiesced. Looking at the
horizon, he feels that he should have pressed harder for a month of respite. He
should have insisted that they wait for the child first.
But that wouldn’t matter now. Not
when below deck, he hears Tiriel scream.
The winds began to pick up, faster
and harsher, howling with the salt of the seas. Waves began to come and go,
bigger and stronger, until the Ashayam was rocking on its axis and
groaning with the effort to stay above water.
Ardyn is thrown onto the wooden deck
as he rushes to his wife. Sprays of sea water lashes onto the ship, the rain
bullets down on him. He regrets to have brought no crew with them when he
thought he could helm the ship on his own. How foolish he’d been.
He hears Tiriel scream again, having
him pray Artemis not now. But the child is blood of the sea; this
is what the waves whisper to him. Ardyn fears he’ll have to call the monsters
beneath for their protection even though none of the beasts bow to him. No sea
monster will for his father had killed Leviathan, the sea goddess of the old
world.
Ardyn lowers the mast; the wind
wouldn’t carry them far if the cloth gets ripped. They will ride the waves.
Move with the storm. He cannot go against it, nor can he go around. The sea
chose this moment to raise this tempest; it must be a plot to exact revenge on
him and his kin. There can be no other reason.
“Ardyn!” Tiriel
calls with a hiss, the contractions coming in as sure as the waves.
Dropping the ropes, Ardyn rushes to
her below deck. She is there on the floorboards, back on a barrel and her skirt
wet. Her water broke. Cursing and brushing back her hair, Ardyn tries to soothe
her.
“Sh-she’s coming! Ahh!”
Tiriel gasps and then groans. “Take me up.”
Ardyn didn’t understand her request.
It was dangerous above, the winds too harsh and the spray of seawater too cruel
for her to endure. But Tiriel insists. She stands up herself without his help.
“What are you doing?”
Ardyn couldn’t stop himself from hissing in disbelief.
“They must–agh–they
must see her!” Tiriel hobbles to the stairs and hauls herself over the
deck.
Ardyn follows her, assisting her and
despite antagonizing her actions, he doesn’t stop her.
“Call the sea, Ardyn.” She
pants, settling on the root of the mast. The storm soaking her. The ship rocks
when a wave crashes on the starboard side, throwing her to the floor.
“I can’t have those
monsters–“
“Call. The sea!”
Tiriel screams as another contraction hits her right in the middle of settling
back on the mast.
Ardyn watches her with horror on his
face. She knows how this must go. She knows how their child will come to this
world. He knows he must follow her and yet, the curse of the war pulls him
back. What if the monsters reject him? Reject their child?
His dallying stops when another wave
crashes the ship. The sound of wood creaking and splitting has him running on
the edge of the deck, listening to what Tiriel ordered. If this storm and the
sea monsters doesn’t kill him, his wife will.
He hears her scream in agony again
and he looks back at her one last time before starting the ritual. The call
of the sea.
Altan Hal Weinberg 