Welcome to Gaia! ::

It was by pure fluke, if such a thing existed, that Lyndin arrived nearby.

He did not often come into the city, or where there was any great risk of running into someone else.

Lyndin had many enemies, and though he was not intimidated by the threat of them, it was simply easier to avoid the interactions altogether. He needed his time to be spent productively, now more than ever.

Ordinarily, he would have kept himself fairly sequestered in the Negaverse-assigned housing Laurelite treated like a cage by which to watch him through. He didn’t really care. The alterations to the house protected against the worst of Metallia’s uncomfortable presence, and when he was devoted to his work it was easy enough to forget he wasn’t in his workshop up on Velencya.

He had the space. He had made it his own.

He stayed where he was available to the Vanguard, though visits from them were growing sparser.

If it was lonely, Lyndin never said as much.

He did not grant himself time for leisure. He hadn’t in a long time. When left to his own devices, there was only work to be done.

Tonight, he’d been out scanning the skies and collecting some data readings. He could have asked the others to do it. Maybe, should have. But there was a weight over the Vanguard that he didn’t quite know how to address. His efforts to do so were not entirely productive, and he had begun to think that perhaps he was doing more harm than good.

It was a delicate balance, and not one that he had mastered. Therefore, it was simply easier to make the task his own.

But here was Aliez, anyway.

“Aliez,” he greeted, only so as not to startle him. Maybe his presence would unnerve him, anyway. Lyndin had the growing suspicion that his presence had that effect these days. “You’ve picked a good night to watch the sky.”

Aliez had found a good spot to observe the sky. It was peaceful here.

Lyndin didn’t want to disturb that. Perhaps he would simply pass by quickly after a moment of formalities. Aliez didn’t look like he was aching for company but there was a sort of solemn sadness that clung to him. Lyndin wanted to ask him what was wrong, but before the words could leave his lips he found he already expected another dismissive, evasive answer. He said instead, “My scans said the meteor shower should pick up in about ten minutes. Are you out to watch it?”

It came as no surprise to Lyndin that Aliez would have abandoned a position of comfort to adopt one of control. He could sit there under the guise of professional decorum, like sitting up straight and squaring his shoulders would somehow erase the worry from his eyes. For a brief moment, Lyndin considered allowing it.

But that’s what he’d been doing already, and Aliez looked worse now than ever.

There was an impossibly fine line to navigate, between being too present and too absent.

Aliez was too clever to be unaware of how unconvincing his charade had gotten. He looked more anxious than normal, perhaps because he knew how impossible it was for Lyndin to pretend like he saw nothing. Perhaps because whatever he was hiding was getting worse.

“May I sit with you?” he asked, but wasted no time to remind, “You can tell me no. I would understand if you were here for solitude.”

Only when invited did Lyndin ease himself onto the bench beside Aliez. He kept a slight distance, enough to offer presence without being overwhelming. He wanted Aliez to have a space of his own without the threat of Lyndin crowding him. The air around the commander already felt dense, like the emotions radiating from him were strong enough to command attention.

Lyndin did not stare at him, considering that attention might further discomfort him.. Instead, he pressed himself flat against the back of the bench and nodded once before he tipped his head upward to search the sky. It didn’t take long for a meteor to streak across the sky and he let that be a sign.

“For one who does not like solitude, you have taken great effort to pursue it.”

There was no accusation in it. Only quiet concern. Unintrusive, he could not even be sure that Aliez would understand its intention unless it was more clearly spelled out for him.

“I have noticed, of late, that you seem…” He paused, a deliberate choice, “Tired.”

The word hung in the air for a moment. He gave Aliez time to hear it. Lyndin kept his gaze on the sky despite a stillness of the stars.

“Not weak,” Lyndin further clarified. “But worn. I have wondered what is weighing so heavily on your mind that you are compelled to keep to yourself.”

Another silence passed. Deliberate.

Patient.

“I know you wouldn’t mean to worry anyone,” Lyndin said patiently, because he did understand this. Intimately. The irony of Vyn’s self imposed silence was not lost on him, particularly given how much he knew that his own silence weighed on the Commander.

“Perhaps, if you would allow me to suggest, as you have not had the outcome you desired, it is time to pursue an alternative course of action?”

As he half turned to face Aliez better, he rested his arm over the back of the bench. If he could have relaxed his posture, he might have. He was either so used to keeping form, or wound so tightly, that even while relaxing he looked ready to spring.

“If you are worried about saying too much to the others, say them to me.”

Lyndin was keenly aware that he must have been included in Aliez’s calculations when determining where he was to keep distance but it wouldn’t stop him from offering. He supposed, perhaps without hubris, that he might have had a bit more experience with carrying things than the others.

There was no weight, no burden, of any Vanguardian that he would not be willing to shoulder.

“That sort of loneliness can eat away at you,” he mused, as understanding as he was patient. “You should save your strength for other battles if you can. Is there anything I can help with?”

“Aliez,” Lyndin said gently, cutting through the silence before it had a chance to settle. When he moved, it was to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You’re so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. I can’t understand how you’ve convinced yourself otherwise”

He squeezed Aliez’ shoulder once and then let the full weight of his hand anchor him there.

Lyndin had never factored ‘fairness’ into any of this. He didn’t think Aliez should have either. The universe had never been ‘fair’ to Lyndin, or any Velenian. The Velencians had hardly fared any better.

They were simply doing their best to exist.

They’d made it this far.

“You are the product of generations of survival. You are everything of everyone before you, and more, because you are yourself, too. Kindness in a cruel world has more strength than you know. So don’t start being cruel to yourself. You’ve never just made noise.”

Above them, meteors streaked silently across the sky. Lyndin’s gaze stayed on Aliez, unwavering. Patient.

“...And even if you had been, I would prefer that to your silence.”

Lyndin offered no resistance when Aliez manipulated his hand. He offered it freely.

When Aliez’s head pressed into Lyndin’s shoulder, he leaned into it, tilting just slightly to offer him a more comfortable position. And then he stayed still, to make sure Aliez knew the contact was welcome.

“I don’t like to be alone,” Lyndin admitted into the silence. It wasn’t a confession, exactly–just the truth. One he did not make a habit of speaking into existence. It was a preference, and Lyndin was used to sacrifice. Solitude was a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things.

…But not when it was tearing you apart.

Not like what Aliez was doing to himself. Not like what Vyn was doing.

He had his own concerns, of course. Lyndin hadn’t seen Vyn in months, and to hear that Aliez was worrying about him only stoked the embers already burning in the back of his mind. There were fires everywhere–quiet, but no less dangerous for it.

Maybe it was time to start putting some of them out.

“Why would you think you are taking up more room than you ‘deserve’? You’ve earned your place here. Do you think I would find you less dependable or trustworthy because you have moments of doubt? Everyone does, Aliez. There is no such thing as perfection. Chasing it only erodes what is already strong. Give yourself the chance to be you–to grow into the best version of yourself. But know you can’t achieve that if you’re only tearing yourself down.”

He squeezed Aliez’s hand, as if he could transfer his strength in doing so.

“Why pretend to be okay if you’re not? You’ll hollow yourself out trying to hold that up. You’re allowed to break down. You’re allowed to feel it. You don’t have to be ‘okay’ all the time. Don’t measure yourself against anyone else. You don’t need to justify your pain. You are allowed to simply feel it.”

Better to let it flow through him than keep bottling it up inside.

When Lyndin spoke again, it was gentler.

“Recognize that things are hard. You’re overloaded and carrying too much. You need to unburden yourself before it drags you down any further. You need to take care of yourself, Aliez.”

He tilted his head just slightly to look at the Commander. “...Or let me. Tell me what’s going on so I can take care of you.”

Once again, Lyndin squeezed Aliez’s hand gently, another careful reminder that he was here and listening. He was present despite the quietness. He gave the stage to Aliez and listened–really listened to everything he said.

He tilted his head just slightly, not quite to press against Aliez’s but to offer him a bit of a safer nook to hide his face in.

His eyes found the sky and stayed there, watching as the meteors lit up the sky in short, unpredictable bursts.

“You are a qualified Commander,” Lyndin reminded patiently. “I did not promote you because I had no other choice. You have many qualities I admire. And I recognize that I need help keeping our momentum moving forward. I have never expected perfection from you, only your best. You’ve always given me that. Except, maybe now you are spreading yourself too thin, and I am worried about you. And Vyn.”

An admission he hadn’t expected to make, but one that was no less honest for being spoken into existence.

“Give me what you can, and it will be enough. When you get stuck, come to me and we will work through things together. When you meet a wall, you do not need to beat your head against it to break it down. Sometimes there is another way. You just need someone else to show you.”

Something like silence passed, briefly, and only when the weight of it lessened slightly was Lyndin able to say, “I would be relieved if you did not try to pretend that you are okay when you are not. I understand the hypocrisy in me asking that of you. But you are young enough that you might break a bad habit before it becomes ingrained.”

Lyndin stroked his thumb over the back of Aliez’s hand with a touch that felt less planned and more instinctive, like some old habit long forgotten and slowly pushing through again.

“If you wish to spare Caedus, I need you to keep looking,” he said quietly. Slowly. Like the words were heavy and hard to carry. “For something else. Anything else.”

Maybe he knew how hopeless it was.

“But don’t lose yourself in the process. I cannot afford to lose anyone else. I need someone to keep trying. But I worry I am pushing you too hard. You and Vyn have been on my mind often lately. I want to support you better. But you’ve both become so distant.”

Differently so, but he’d noticed the changes all the same.

“Nothing has happened between you two, has it?”