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Say'ri's coronation is a somber affair.
It's far different than than the ascensions that Tiki can recall. Though blurred by time, she can clearly recall a triumphant blade and shining blue hair, shoulders worn by battle but eyes shining with a stubborn, relentless hope. It had been tinged by loss, of course, as all things seemed to inevitably be, but a kind smile had overlooked the hero king.
Say'ri has no such sibling, a fact made all the more obvious by the empty space left beside her. Her expression is solemn as the seemingly endless procession of warriors in full regalia present boxes and sacred treasures, endless speeches, it just went on and on. An elaborate sword. A curved stone. And after much ado, a circular, elaborate mirror blessed by Naga some eons ago. It's apparently custom for each new regent of Chon'sin to be presented with these treasures, but considering how many regents there were, twenty or thirty or something, it couldn't be the most effective system to traipse these sacred treasures all around. Why did they need so many lords, anyway?
Chonsin's been a rather isolated nation for the past… well, always, so the number of foreign dignitaries and rulers attending is causing some kind of stir. Tiki is just glad to see familiar faces. Robin and Chrom attend as a pair, of course, each dressed in their respective nation's traditional garb. Lissa is there as well, sunny yellow robes done up in the Chonsin style as she bounces impatiently in her seat. Lucina's there too, and grown up rather fast (or was that the other Lucina? Human ages could get so awfully confusing. Or maybe it was just this mess of alternate timelines.) A new duchess of Roseanne is there, haughty and proud as her predecessor, though perhaps with a little more tact. Someone from Ferox and Phea and Medon and Orinea and dozens and dozens of countries that Tiki could've sworn weren't there yesterday, those who had allied against Walhart with Yen’fay’s sacrifice. All this talk of nations and borders and this and that, Tiki can hardly keep track of it all. The other day she had asked Say'ri about visiting Mamorthod, only to find out it had dissolved nearly three centuries ago! All for some squabble over land or ruling or something or another. They should all just unify and be done with it so I wouldn't have to keep track.
By the time Tiki's returned from her thoughts, they had finally moved onto the next section of the ceremony, just as dull and long-winded as the last.
The reception held afterwards is equally boring. Tiki had at least expected a banquet, but apparently that wasn’t until after another ceremony she had to attend, and wasn’t that wonderful to hear.
Perhaps I should have slept in after all.
There’s some old man standing next to Tiki in robes, similar to the ones draped over Say’ri, but the sour expression on his face and nonstop chatter is where the similarities end.
“…What do you think of the new regent?” Tiki asks. The man doesn't even spare her a glance before launching into his response.
"Her clan has held far too much sway for too long, and look what good it has done for us. Her brother," The man shakes his head, spits out the word like a curse, "Manipulating the other lords for the sake of one person, and she'll be no better! She's but a child, and she needed those Ylisseans to get anything done."
But you agreed to fight alongside him, did you not? And better to seek aid from others than to die alone, is what Tiki wanted to say. But she had been warned to be on her best behavior.
”Is that truly what you believe?" Tiki asks, instead. The man looks at her, his eyes widening as he finally takes in her draconic features. She does not smile.
"L- Lady Tiki!" The weight of realization sinks across his face, "I was not aware you would be attending the ceremony. Apologies for my bluntness." The man, in all his glittering finery, shrinks under Tiki's narrowing gaze with a hasty and low bow.
She picks her next words carefully. Tiki probably can't call him an idiot or a dullard without consequences, so she’ll have to do the next best thing, ”Say'ri is a dear companion of mine; she has done me countless kindnesses and saved my life many times. I’m sure she'll be a capable leader."
The effect is instantaneous and satisfying. Sweat beads down his neck and drips into the shimmering fabric of his clothes. "I - I am certain, Lady Tiki. I did not mean -“
“In fact," Tiki interrupts, raising her voice a little louder, "I would not call it remiss to compare her to the Hero King himself. Uniting the clans against the Conquerer’s cruelty, not many could do the same.”
“My apologies, Lady Tiki, I meant no offense -“
Tiki resists the urge to roll her eyes, waving one hand if only to stop his squawking. "I shall pay no mind." She didn't really care, after all. There were always people like him, she had learned. Delible, tiresome people who would fade to the back of Tiki's memories and vanish like dust. Little more than crowds of old men murmuring to each other. How was it that Tiki had slept for hundreds of literal years, yet royal gatherings always felt like eons, she would never know.
She ducked away from the annoying regent, her eyes now heavy. Maybe just a quick nap…
“My lady!”
Tiki looked up. She had slumped against the corner of a room against a pillar, catching the watchful eye of many observers.
Say’ri stands above her, brow furrowed in concern. Her long purple sleeves drape down like snow on pine branches, bending the leaves with the weight of winter, “My lady, are you alright?”
“I am fine, Say’ri. Just resting for a moment.” Tiki readjusts her weight against the pillar, flicking away a piece of dust from her cape. A nearby observer, a younger woman, gawks.
Say’ri sighs. “Aye, of course. You must be bored.”
“Terribly. Though your company may remedy that.” Tiki props herself up, brushing off her robes and adjusting her veil.
”What is this about comparing me to the Hero-King?”
Tiki smiles, "I figured my role as the Voice has some use after all. You did ask me to be on my best behavior."
Say'ri sighs again, longer and lighter, dragging one hand down her face in pseudo-exhaustion as she tries to hide her smile. "That doesn't mean… fie, never mind."
“There’s no need to worry. You are nothing like the Hero-King."
"Aye, and what is that supposed to mean?"
"Mar-Mar was kinder. He let me have sweets whenever I wished, and his coronation speech was much shorter,” Tiki’s taken one of the decorative fans from the walls and is waving it at herself. The thin paper, intricately printed with geometric flowers in vibrant colors, serves a pitiful barrier against the heat. The stuffy clothing and attitudes makes the staid castle even more unbearable, but if her actions aren't up to form nobody says anything.
Say'ri sighs fondly, "Aye, my lady."
Tiki smiles, "You are more like...” She pauses, musing through her memories to find a familiar face, only… "ah, I suppose there are none like you, now I think of it."
Say'ri doesn't seem to know how to respond, even though Tiki was just stating the obvious. Yes, the more Tiki searches for a familiar feeling in the winding, seemingly endless path of her history, the more apparent it becomes. In her eons of existence, there really are none like Say'ri. There will always be noble princes and princesses and tacticians who stand to their side, their stalwart blades and kindhearted companions, ravenous warlords and self-righteous conquerors, but none have made her heart feel such a way.
"That… is a compliment, my lady?"
"Perhaps it is,” She teases, simply.
Faint mutters catch Tiki’s attention, and she eyes a crowd of elderly regents casting glances towards Say'ri. She wishes she could stretch her wings and transform into her full-fledged manakete form, but it would probably destroy all the delicate architecture, and Say'ri did love art. Instead, Tiki yawns. "...I'm rather bored. We should leave."
"Ti - my lady! You cannot be serious."
"It's so awfully dull, isn't it? And the main ceremony is done, so I see no reason why we should stay." Tiki yawned, stretching her arms upward in a decidedly non Voice-like way and glaring the regents' way. She hoped her fangs would show.
Say'ri, exasperated but not surprised, protested, "I cannot just leave -“
"Tell them it is an official meeting with the Voice, then, or whatever you're supposed to say for that sort of thing.”
"That is - fie, I cannot -" Say'ri fumbled through her excuses and sighed. "...Fine then. Only for a moment, my lady."
The air outside is much clearer, the sky showing the telltale orange and pink streaks of sunset. The blossoms of Meiyoto (Chon’sin's capital, or something of the sort) Tiki, in her brief tour of the gardens, held a special admiration for the large, sweeping purple trees that dipped down to the edge of the grass. From their view on the wooden terrace, Tiki can see pale blossoms decorate the air in slow, steady waves. Say'ri steps after her, her heavy robes draping unceremoniously after her. Tiki's glad her attire is nothing like that, though she's pretty sure someone tried to make her wear something long and heavy like that at some point.
"I've brought you something." From her sleeves, Say'ri pulls a rectangular piece of jelly wrapped in a thin paper. It’s a dark purple color and soft to the touch.
"What is it?” Tiki tilts her head to one side.
"A dessert, a favorite of mine from when I was younger."
Tiki takes a bite. The texture is… unusual, to say the least, and it's not as sweet as she usually prefers, but it's better than all the bitter tea Tiki's been choking down all day.
Through bites of the jelly, Tiki leans back against the terrace’s railings, ”Are all of Chon’sin’s celebrations this dull, Say'ri?"
"Of course not!" Say'ri responds in mock offense, "Fie, Chon'sin has the finest celebrations of all of Valm! Festivals that last days for every season, lanterns everywhere, games and plays, food stalls lining the streets, sweets and fruit of all kind! 'Tis a sight to behold, Lady Tiki. There is truly nothing like it.” Her face lights up at the memory. It’s rare to see the woman so openly pleased at anything, "There are many throughout the country, though I hold special favor for our Star Festival."
For as long as she’s lived, Tiki’s embarrassed to say how little she’s seen, ”I do not believe I've ever heard of it.”
During her time with the Shepherds, Say'ri served as an unofficial-official ambassador of Chonsin culture. Versed in the arts from her royal upbringing, though she didn't know everything, she could answer most questions that Shepherds (mostly Robin and Ricken) had asked. But for all Say'ri speaks of Chonsin, in sweeping praise, she knows it is not the whole truth. She saw it herself during Walhart's invasion: the poverty, the petty squabbles of people, the insular and patronizing isolation of many of her fellow daimyo.
But despite all that, Say'ri eyes gleam at the chance to spread the story.
"The Star festival… the story begins with a weaver and a cow herder. They were diligent workers, loyal and kind, but very lonely. Once they met, they could barely stand to be apart. They were so deeply in love that the cow herder let their flock wander the galaxy, the weaver leaving the world with no cloth, all in disarray."
"The queen of heaven was so furious, she separated the two across the sky: the weaver in the West and the cow herder in the East. Divided by a river of stars, they wept and wished to be reunited."
"So despairing was their cries, a flock of birds took pity upon the lovers and formed a bridge for the pair to cross and reunite. And that time is our Star Festival. Celebrating their yearly reunion."
Tiki looked upwards. The orange sky was beginning to fade to twilight, the stars blinking from their sleep to dot the horizon, “It’s a sadder story than I anticipated. The weaver and the herder only wished to be together, after all," She yawned, "What's so wrong with wanting to see someone?"
"Aye, I agree, but…” Say'ri shook her head, “Fie, it is just a story. And the Star Festival exists for such foolish wishes to exist, if only for a single evening."
"Hm, I suppose."
Night had fully stained the horizon now. The skyline of white blossoms glowed like the flickering lights above. It had probably been longer than the "moment" Say'ri agreed to, but Tiki wasn't about to complain, "A bridge across the stars… it sounds lovely. I should like to see one."
"...I cannot forge such a bridge, my lady. 'Tis only a myth."
"I meant the festival, Say'ri. I should like to see it by your side."
"I… you are serious, my lady?" Say'ri's blush can't be disguised by the violet dusks.
"Of course, why shouldn't I be?"
"I assumed you should be taking back to the Mila Tree soon, to return to your slumber." She casts her eyes downward, “Grima has been destroyed, and so your work…”
Tiki did often feel her eyes growing heavy, from her exalted slumber or exhaustion at the changing world she couldn't say, but even that wasn’t enough to stop her carefree wishing, "I hold our time together dearly. I do not wish to miss your company."
Say’ri slumps down, almost… relieved? Yes, relieved, smiling at Tiki. It's a precious sight, well fitting amidst the sprawling colors of the blossoming trees, “…Of course. And I should not want to miss yours.”
The summer evening is lighter than the humid haze of the day. The air twinkles with the sound of ringing bells and laughter, drums echoing the streets alongside cheers and rhythmic yells.
Say’ri is dressed in some special attire, though far different from the burdens of fabric heaped upon her at her coronation. It’s lighter, the purple fabric patterned with geometric flowers. Tiki’s matched in similar clothing, dark red with the familiar triangular shapes.
Even if just for a short while, her hand wrapped in Say’ri’s guiding palm, perhaps Tiki’s foolish wishes can stay.