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kivaember · 6 years

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Prompt #10: Coward

Bluebird muttered under her breath as she carefully trudged her way through the ankle deep snow, the soles of her boots catching on a frozen rock here and there hidden underneath. It was a cold night, the air frosty enough that it needled its sharp way into her lungs, and she’d much rather be spending it within the warmth of their family’s yurt, rather than stomping about in the dark, freezing her tail off, because Aza was a ridiculous crybaby.

Thankfully his hiding spots hadn’t changed since they were children, so she didn’t have to go far. With the yurts of the Iriq at her back, she stepped over the threshold of the camp’s outskirts and right into a dense flock of sheep. It was like a sea of fluffy wool, up to her waist and bleating curiously at her as she waded in, gently nudging aside a stubborn ewe here and there.

“C’mon, move it, ya dumb sheep,” she grumbled, making sure not to accidentally kick any. The shepherds would tan her hide and turn her into a new pair of boots if they caught her hurting a single woolly hair on their dumb heads, “Outta my way, c’mon…”

It took a good minute of sheep-wading, but eventually she found her quarry. Aza was sitting on a lone patch of bare, scraggly grass, staring at his boots as the sheep milled around him. He was in his hunting gear from that morning, so at least she didn’t have to smack him upside the head for exposing himself to the elements like last time, but she was still displeased to see him sitting on the frozen ground like a dumbass.

“Aza,” she greeted as she stood right in front of him, thrusting the oil lantern above them so it cast their tiny little clearing, flanked by sheep, in an off-yellow light, “You done communing with the sheep or what?”

Aza looked up at her with a small frown. Age had not hardened him like it did to Xaela men. Bluebird didn’t know if it was a Miqo’te thing or not, but Aza always looked so small, so tiny and delicate compared to the men she had met in the Steppes and around the Ruby Sea. It made it hard for her to think of him as an adult at times.

“I just needed a quiet place to think,” he huffed, then, “What’re you doing here?”

“Looking out for you, as usual,” Bluebird said flatly, “It’s freezing outside. Can’t you brood back in the yurt or something?”

“No,” Aza’s expression was closed off and blank, made almost cold by the stark shadows the oil lantern cast across it, “You and Mom’ll just pester me.”

“I’m pestering you now,” Bluebird pointed out dryly, but she squatted down and set the lantern down, resigning herself to chilling out with her brother and the sheep for a good while, pun intended, “What about Dad? You can help him with his crafting stuff.”

Aza looked away and started ripping up clumps of grass, “I don’t want to bother him.”

Bluebird eyed him contemplatively, “You never bother him.”

Aza just gave a one-shouldered shrug, still avoiding her gaze. It was difficult to think him as nineteen when he was like this. Whenever he was upset, he tended to shrink, to hunch his shoulders and bow his head, to avoid eye contact and try to melt into the background, to try and disappear. She knew why. A habit beaten into him from- well, before. He tended to relapse into old, toxic habits whenever he got into these odd moods, but there was always a catalyst as to why.

“I heard,” Bluebird began carefully, “that you had a fight with Buyant this morning.”

“It wasn’t a fight,” Aza said very quietly.

“Oh yeah? Well, the black eye he’s sporting says otherwise.”

Aza looked miserable.

“Khudus said that he riled you up something fierce,” Bluebird probed, “You know, tribe members fight all the time. I mean, me and Khudus can’t go ten minutes without headbutting each other, so you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I know that,” Aza rubbed his palms over his thighs, his gaze skittering around them and catching the glow of the oil lantern, “But…”

Bluebird wasn’t a very patient person; it was a point of frustration with Khudus, who tended to partner up with her for hunts despite knowing she tended to sabotage herself by getting impatient and ruining her own ambush by charging out too early. With Aza, however, she always managed to find some scrap of patience, enough to sit there to wait him out as he dithered over the right words to say.

So, she waited, with nothing but the noise of sheep bleating and rustling filling the silence.

“I’m not a Xaela,” Aza finally finished, “And… I’m not a kid anymore either. I’m an adult.”

“…yeah?” Bluebird said slowly, not getting it, “What, is it a shock to you?”

Aza finally looked at her, even if it was to give her his usual ‘fucking-hell-you’re-such-an-empty-headed-dzo’ expression, “No. It’s not. I mean… I was only really taken in out of pity, wasn’t I?”

Abruptly, Bluebird felt ill-equipped, emotionally, to navigate this conversation. This was always something Dad or Mom tended to handle, because she only ever stuck her foot into it. But, she was perceptive enough to know that quickly changing the subject or avoiding to answer would just confirm whatever fucked up, stupid conclusion Aza already came to, so she sucked in a breath and went for it.

“Well, kind of, yeah,” Bluebird said carefully, “But I mean, we didn’t keep you out of pity. I think. Well, mostly. Just know that I like you, and overall there’s maybe about ten percent worth of pity in there. The other ninety percent is genuine affection.”

“Oh,” Aza said, like this was a surprising fact to him.

“Did Buyant say otherwise?” Bluebird asked mildly, already making plans to corner the asshole and pluck his scales out one by one. That lanky half-Oronir was always salty that Aza was the better hunter, but he never dared to be too overt in his bullying when Bluebird was around. Maybe she should remind him who the real boss was around here, if he was daring to be bold…

Aza said nothing for a moment, then, “He was asking when… when I was going to leave. He said I was just… that I was only here, ‘cuz you lot pitied me, and that I wasn’t a real-”

“Fuck him,” Bluebird said immediately, not wanting to hear the rest. She got the gist, “You can stay until you’re as old and crotchety as Chuluun. In fact, I bet Mom’ll want you to stay, ‘cuz she never gets tired of fussing over you like the giant crybaby that you are.”

“I’m not a crybaby,” Aza scowled, his ears tilting back a fraction, “I haven’t cried in years!”

“Liar,” Bluebird jeered, her mouth curving into a wicked smirk, “You cried two days ago when you saw that fox eat a baby bird.”

“It was so tiny though…” Aza mumbled, his face turning a little pink, “And I sniffled.”

“You cried. Big fat tears and everything.”

“Mom says crying’s fine.”

“Yeah, if you’re a baby,” Bluebird chortled, and yelped when Aza flung a handful of dirty snow at her, “Oi, hey!”

“I’m not a crybaby,” Aza grumped, crossing his arms in a full-blown sulk, “I’m just free with my emotions.”

Bluebird almost choked, because that was the worst lie she had ever heard in her life, “You are the most emotionally constipated person I’ve ever met,” she said, “You’re a disaster waiting to happen.”

Aza frowned at the grass at that, “I try though.”

“Yeah, but you’re too much of a coward to follow through most of the time,” Bluebird said, “You always worry about stupid shit. You worry you’re a burden, you worry we look after you out of pity, you worry about the stupid shit Buyant says, apparently. You worry, worry, worry.”

Aza chewed on his bottom lip, his face creasing into an expression of, yup, worrying.

So, she smacked him upside the head.

“Ow!” he reeled back, rubbing his ear with a betrayed expression, “What was that for?!”

“You’re worrying,” she said flatly, “Stop it. Look. Forget what Buyant said. He’s an asshole and a loser, who gives a shit about him? Besides,” she jutted her chin out, looking at her brother down the length of her nose, “Are you gonna believe him over me when I say we want you here?”

“No,” Aza mumbled, but he was smiling, a small, shy little gesture which was made her feel weirdly embarrassed. Her brother was so high maintenance sometimes, honestly, but… well, she was used to it. It was fine.

“Exactly. Now, c’mon,” she said, picking up the oil lantern and getting to her feet, “Stop hiding with the sheep and come back home. We can plan out revenge on Buyant together.”

“Revenge?” Aza hesitated, but he stood up too, brushing the snow and dirt off his breeches. Bluebird tutted and reached out, grabbing one of his hands and tugging him onwards as she waded back into the sheep flock.

“Revenge,” she confirmed, “Buyant’s been getting too big for his boots, it seems. So, we’re gonna teach him who’s boss. You and me.”

Aza looked unsure, but she knew it would take little convincing for him to tap into that vicious streak he kept hidden beneath that quiet demeanour. Aza could be scary when he was riled enough, something Buyant should be taught sooner rather than later. He was prodding a sleeping tiger when it came to bullying Aza, and Bluebird would rather have some control over the inevitable explosion, than learning on the grapevine that Aza lost his temper and murdered him with his bare hands when it got too much.

“It’ll be fun,” Bluebird said, “You’ll see.”

“Well,” Aza hesitated – then smiled, a wicked little curve to his mouth that promised Buyant was going to have a very unpleasant, immediate future, “Only if we don’t get caught. You know what happened last time we were teaching someone a lesson.”

“That was probably because we broke bones last time…” Bluebird mumbled, remembering how that got out of hand. Her and Aza had been lectured by the khatun until their legs numbed under them and their heads rang from all the yelling. Not an experience she wanted to repeat as an adult. That’d just be humiliating.

“And left a trail of evidence a malm wide,” Aza snorted.

“Hey, I wasn’t the one that instantly confessed! Mom didn’t even finish asking if we did it and you broke down bawling and begging for forgiveness!”

“I did not! You’re the one who tripped over herself trying to pin all the blame on me!”

“Well, it technically was all your fault. It was your idea to stage the dzo stampede, after all.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Bluebird barked a laugh at Aza’s sulky retort, something contented and warm settling in her. Yeah, her crybaby brother was so high maintenance, but it was fine. She loved him all the same – even if the idiot had to reminded constantly of that fact. But that was fine too, she understood. He was a coward, but it was how he survived before.

He just needed to have his immediate instinct to hide to be replaced with confrontation. He needed to be bolder, to know that he could square up against something that hurt and upset him, because he’d have her at his back.

And, c’mon, who can be scared with her at their side? She was amazing, incredible and brave enough for the both of them!

Poor Buyant wouldn’t know what hit him.

#ffxivwrite2018 #ffxiv #warrior of light #original characters #bluebird tries her best to be a good sister

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