Meet You in the Land of Hope

Vana'diel date: 884/8/10
Viewpoint: Nightingale
Place: Bastok Markets, Firewater Circle
Posted on 01 Jun 2012 16:35

Nightingale closed his eyes and sang. The sun was setting, he could feel the last warmth on his body. He sang of desperation and hope, of courage to face the death of the night by yourself, and survive. When he opened his eyes, he could not see the arid city of Bastok, but the beautiful scene of desperation and hope that existed only in his mind.
Then the song ended. With the last notes, he closed his eyes again. When he opened them again, all he saw was Bastok. The gritty reality. He bowed to the several people who had stopped to listen to him. It had been the last song for now. No matter how much he might want to immerse himself in the soothing familiarity of the songs, he was still flesh and blood, and he needed to eat. He nodded and smiled friendly to the few congratulating words he received, and gathered the gil thrown into the box he had put out for the purpose. It was enough for now.
"You sounded more sad than before, when singing that song." The quiet voice made him quickly look up from what he was doing. He knew the person.
"Endahren…" So he had come, chasing his hare-brained idea of establishing a branch in Bastok. Nightingale had told him not to. Still he had come. He looked back down and finished gathering his belongings. He hadn't wanted that.
"Ignoring me now?" That Nightingale did. He didn't wish to talk to this person, no matter how good his intentions were.
"You won't get rid of me that easy, Nightingale. We have known each other for three years now. I can't just abandon you like that, even if you tell me to." Nightingale supposed that he couldn't, at that. Sometimes, he felt the two of them were from different worlds entirely. But he kept walking, increasing his pace. Maybe another night, he would have answered. The day had been rough for him. Not enough gil, he needed to work harder. He loved his freedom, but being independent came with its own set of troubles. He didn't want to meet Endahren today.
"I'll keep following you then." The quiet voice sounded sad. It hurt Nightingale to hear that tone in Endahren's voice, but he kept walking. He feared that if he talked with the other right now, he might start crying, and not be able to stop. He couldn't take this, not right now. He silently pleaded Endahren to go away, give him time to gather his composure.
They had last seen each other in San d'Oria, and Nightingale had thought he had made it clear that Endahren's presence wasn't hoped for. Back then, he had thought it a bad mistake to tell Endahren of his plans to go to Bastok. But now, he wasn't so certain anymore. The days were lonely and long. Perhaps it had been a mistake, but a deliberate one. Perhaps, deep inside of him, a voice had called out - let him come. Please track me down.
Nightingale staggered and bit back a sob. At least he had managed to reach a less frequently used road before breaking down. He leaned against the close-by wall and tried to prevent the one sob from becoming many.
"Nightingale…" He shied back from the soft touch on his shoulder. No, no, not now. But he didn't resist when he was drawn away from the wall and to a much warmer embrace. He laid his head against Endahren's shoulder and gripped him tightly.
"It's all right. I'm here. I won't leave you." The voice, so close, made him break down. He cried, holding the other man like he would never let go. He was dimly aware of the soothing voice and arms holding him tightly, but they weren't important. This presence, it was enough. To be able to be this close again, after all those lonely nights, afraid that someone would find him, someone from his past. He had been so afraid in this strange city, always attracting attention where ever he went. Elvaan weren't too common here, he had known that from the beginning, but somehow it hadn't occurred to him just how much attention he would attract like this.
Eventually, he managed to draw in his desperation enough to stop crying. And when he did, Endahren was still there, holding him. The sun had set, leaving them in almost complete darkness. This small street did not have lamps. At the end of this street was where Nightingale lived now.
"I want to go home," he whispered hoarsely. Endahren was silent. There was nothing he could answer to that, both of them knew that he hadn't meant any place in Bastok. After a while, Nightingale withdrew from Endahren's embrace and started walking down the street again. He didn't feel like going to buy food now, not when his face bore the signs of his bout of crying. He walked to the place he lived in, and Endahren followed him. It was a good thing he was so stubborn, Nightingale thought.



Category: With White Wings

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