Chapter Text
Seliph sits in front of the mirror, watching as Framme brushes out his hair. He wonders if there’s any need to do so, but the feeling is nice. Behind them, Clanne is hemming and hawing over ribbon colors. The two Stewards are trying to find what they called a “gallant look” for him for his introduction to the high society of Elyos; they seem to have somewhat conflicting ideas on the matter.
“Red would mimic the Divine One’s appearance, but it may not match Lord Seliph. Perhaps black? But a dark color might get lost in his hair...”
“How do you lose a ribbon in your hair?” Framme teases.
“I mean visually! You want there to be enough contrast so that the accessories are visible.”
“I think black would match the armor of his engaged form.”
“But his suit is white and the cape is blue...”
“There is no need to be so concerned,” Seliph laughs. “I appreciate your attentiveness, but white will suffice.”
Seliph places a hand on his cheek, inspecting his reflection. The Fabrication body molds to fit his appearance exactly down to the little scars. This time, he hadn’t panicked and nearly hurt himself falling over; the weight was far more bearable, and while it made him feel a little sluggish, it didn’t freeze him in place. A much better experience than his first attempt.
He’d seen paintings of his father and heard comments from those who knew him in life that the two of them shared remarkably similar hair color. Seliph hadn’t inherited any of his mother’s hair color or texture, looking so much more like his father overall. Still, he recognized the tilt of his eyes or the shape of his nose in images of his mother, having scrutinized her paintings and looked at the little ways where he resembled Julia. He would be Deirdre’s son no matter what form he took, but it comforted him to know that he resembled her just as he did his father.
“Is everything going alright?” calls Alear’s voice, and Seliph looks in the mirror to see over his shoulder. Alear seems a little tired as he stands in the doorway; he’s wearing a set of priestly robes rather than his usual casual clothes, due to a meeting with some Firenese clergy.
“It’s great! We’re just figuring out what color ribbons to use for Lord Seliph’s hair,” Framme reports with glee.
“Divine One, do you think black would be appropriate? Or maybe red?” Clanne asks. “Or maybe red and a lighter shade of blue? Lord Seliph says that white is alright, but—”
“If Seliph wants white, can’t he have white?” Alear asks, clearly trying to cover up a laugh in his voice.
“W-well, yes!”
“How about I help Seliph pick out colors? Vander is looking for you two for a job.”
The twins groan, and Seliph can’t help but giggle at that. Helping the Scion of Light decide on hair accessories is probably more fun than whatever menial tasks the Stewards must do, but Vander’s orders are respected by all, including the Divine Dragon. Framme lays the hairbrush on the tall end table next to the various lengths of ribbon Clanne was fussing with, and follows her brother out. Seliph could swear he can hear a cut-off “don’t wanna be a mail girl” as they leave.
“I hope that they weren’t too much.”
Alear walks up to Seliph’s chair and picks up the hairbrush to continue where Framme left off.
“They were very eager to assist me. I could not refuse.”
“It’s hard to tell them no, isn’t it?”
“They are very good, loyal retainers. They care for you very much.”
Alear smiles as he works, working carefully to untangle the ends of Seliph’s hair. Seliph watches the way his eyes focus on the task at hand, reminding him of some of the memories he’d seen in his father’s dreams.
His father’s dreams. Right. That was a topic Seliph had not yet breached with Alear.
“Alear?”
“Hmm?” The brush continues to sweep across fabricated hair.
“Do you remember when I asked if our meeting made us brothers?”
Alear’s hands pause.
“What do you mean?”
“In Father’s dream, when we first spoke. You remember that, do you not?”
Seliph feels Alear’s fingers let go of his hair. Their eyes meet in the reflection of the mirror, but it takes Alear a moment to respond.
“But... How do you know about that? That was Sigurd’s dream. You weren’t...”
“The Seliph in that dream was me. While I slept, I reached out in the hope that someone might find me. Father must have allowed me in, because I found myself in his dreams. But when I spoke to him about it, he had no idea that he was speaking to me in those dreams. And then, I realized that you likely did not know either.”
Seliph isn’t sure if he’s supposed to feel so guilty about this. It wasn’t as if he forced his way in, and yet he learned so much about his father and Alear almost entirely by accident. Alear hadn’t even bared any of his past to Seliph directly. It was only through seeing recreations of his father’s memories that he knew anything at all about Alear. And in his one-sided awareness, he had asked if their meeting had made them brothers. Such a comment would be endearing to hear from what Alear undoubtedly assumed was a construct of his father’s mind, but from Seliph himself, having never met him at all before that moment?
“I hope I was not too... familiar with you,” Seliph says.
There’s a silence, followed by Alear setting the brush down.
“Well, now that we’ve met and had time to get to know each other...”
He leans toward the mirror, this time holding up a red ribbon against Seliph’s blue hair. Alear’s reflection smiles back happily, his eyes thoughtful.
“How do you feel about red accents? It’ll make your hair look a bit like mine.”
Lythos Castle has never seen so many people at once, at least as far as Alear knows. He wonders if at some point, over a thousand years ago, just as many Divine Dragons had spent their time here. He has the perfect vantage point from one of the high spires, leaning against the half-height walls to look down and watch everyone among the windflowers and statues. He’s being a bit of a hermit-like host at the moment; finding a good opening, he’d slipped away from the main hall and made his way up toward the sky. At least, as close as he can to it.
His inability to transform still bothers him. There’s no point in thinking about it too much, with his dragonstone shattered. While it no longer serves a purpose for him, the pieces keep the Emblems tethered to their bodies. He tries to focus on that, a good thing coming from the bad, but it’s hard not to feel bitter about that loss.
“There you are.”
Alear looks up. Seliph has one hand on the spiral staircase rail, hefting himself up onto the landing. It’s a great number of steps, especially for someone not so used to walking yet. He approaches Alear and leans against the wall next to him, peering into the gardens.
“Ah. This is quite high,” he chuckles, and pulls his gaze away.
“Are you afraid of heights?”
“No, but I am made dizzy by it,” Seliph says. “Why are you hiding away here, alone?”
“I needed some time to myself.” Alear’s gaze returns to the party below. Something about this perspective makes him happy, being able to see everyone enjoying themselves.
“Father said that he has never seen so many people in Lythos Castle at once. Even during the first Fell Dragon War, this was a stronghold more than a home.”
“I don’t want it to be so far away from everyone else. I can’t do anything about the actual physical distance, of course, but I can do this.”
“There will be no need for adventurous youth to sneak in by boat?” Seliph asks, his eyes twinkling with the knowledge of a story Alear was never allowed to hear.
“What? Why do Fogado and Pandreo tell you but not me?” he replies with faux affront.
“I am not so certain they would have told me had it been about my own home.”
“True.”
The ball was initially intended as a way for Alear to meet the people of Elyos in a happier, less formal moment. While they could not allow all of Elyos to appear at Lythos Castle’s front door, Alear had wanted as many people as possible from all walks of life to attend. The logistics of organizing such a gathering was a little too much at the moment, but Seliph’s appearance had created an opportune moment to host a gathering at the castle. This party is attended mostly by the royalty and nobility of the four kingdoms to meet the Emblem of Legacy.
Seliph is dressed appropriately for his grand appearance. His clothing for the night includes a fur-lined cape in dark blue, the emblem of Lythos and the Divine Dragons embroidered on the back in gold thread. His outfit is white with shiny black metal accents, and red ribbons keep his hair tied back in a ponytail. The locks of hair that frame his face are decorated with thinner lengths of ribbon as well, giving off the appearance of red streaks. His cape is kept clasped in place with a red gem brooch; each Emblem, including Alear, wears one tonight.
The two of them continue watching the party from their high perch in silence. Late night winds pick up in intensity, sending their hair into a fluttering frenzy. The full moon’s light touches even the darkest corners of the castle. It is comfortable here, a juxtaposition of the bright, loud party below and the quiet, shadowed spire up above.
Alear realizes that the last song of the night has started up. It’s his cue that he needs to reappear and be present to say his goodnights and goodbyes to everyone.
“I need to go back downstairs. You can stay up here if you want,” he tells Seliph, who frowns.
“No, no, I should not disappear from my own debut to the greater world.” Seliph follows Alear to the stairwell, and shrinks a little at seeing how far down he must descend. “Ah... Hm.”
“Having second thoughts?” Alear teases him.
“I should not put too much strain on this body.”
“You have to get down, eventually.”
“Indeed, I do...” Seliph looks to the open air of the spire’s walls. “I would rather not scale down the side of the castle.”
“I’d fly us down if I could still transform,” Alear sighs. A loud rustle and the sound of wings catches his attention, and he turns to see Chloé atop her pegasus smiling.
“There you are! Lord Sigurd was looking for you. He was quite perplexed as to how he lost sight of both of you,” she chuckles.
“We haven’t run away,” Alear laughs. “We just need to get back downstairs.”
“Care for a ride?”
“It would be much appreciated,” Seliph says. Chloé motions for the two to join her, and they manage to clamber on. The pegasus gives a short grumbly snort at the sudden increased weight, but it descends without issue into a closed-off section of the gardens.
Sigurd steps around a few partygoers, scanning the crowd. He had long since lost track of Alear among all of his worshippers so intent to reach him, and he had encouraged Seliph to speak to as many people as he wished. Finding them shouldn’t be this difficult; one of them has two-toned hair, and the other is wearing a cape emblazoned with the emblem of the Divine Dragons.
He catches sight of Corrin and Camilla with Louis. It seems that he’s teaching them how to blend into the background and observe the people around them.
“Have you seen—”
“Your sons have wandered off,” Camilla replies amusedly before Sigurd has a chance to fully ask his question. He blinks at her, and she doesn’t react at all when Corrin elbows her.
“Might I inquire where to?”
“Oh, somewhere in the castle. All that attention must have been tiring.”
“You saw them?” Sigurd asks, and she nods.
“I said we should tell you, but she told me to mind my own business,” Corrin explains.
“I did not . I simply said that we should allow them to move as they please.”
Corrin opens her mouth to argue back, but stops when Sigurd can’t contain his laughter. Watching them bicker over the little things is very funny, especially given that neither are particularly argumentative with each other. He wonders if they were like this in their mortal lives as well.
“I will find them,” he reassures them, and leaves the sisters to their people-watching under Louis’s guidance.
Something flies overhead, and Sigurd instinctively snaps his head up. It’s a pegasus decorated in turquoise, marking it as Chloé’s. He sees a fluttering cape on one of the riders, and he smiles to himself. Following the creature’s path, he makes his way into a quiet corner of the gardens and approaches as they dismount.
“Thank you, Lady Chloé,” Seliph says, giving her a little bow once his feet are on the ground. She giggles from atop her pegasus.
“Oh, the pleasure is all mine. Two gallant heroes, just like out of a storybook!”
Sigurd chuckles; it’s good to know that the knight is as enamored with her fables as ever.
“You are both remarkably easy to lose in a crowd,” he says loudly enough to catch everyone’s attention. Seliph turns and beams at his father, walking over to give him a hug.
“We just needed a little time away from everything,” Alear says. It is time to return to that now, back to the people who turn to the Divine Dragon in their times of need. Sigurd places a hand on Alear’s shoulder.
“Thank you for finding them, Chloé,” Sigurd says, and she gives them a little wave as she takes off.
He pauses for a moment, thinking of the situation he finds himself in now. One arm wrapped around the young man he never had a chance to know in life, one hand placed on the young dragon he came to know in immortality. Both leaning toward him, seeking out the stability of his presence.
“Come now, before everyone wonders where the Divine Dragon and the new Emblem have disappeared off to,” Sigurd says, and leads the two of them back toward the lights and noise of the party.