[Another day, another letter. Sadly he hadn't had a chance to make time for Balthier since their date, caught in a flurry of interviews and paperwork, and checking in with his people. Too much was happening. That didn't mean he didn't text Balthier each day. A picture here to show off something delightful he'd seen, a passing remark that he was too tired to come over but if Balthier had energy here was a show or a movie or music to try that was on the external. And, after he'd had some time to clear his head, and right, a letter finally arrived, slipped under Balthier's door, and actually in an envelope sealed with wax with strange shapes pressed into them. Break the seal and inside was a letter, with the writing far more confident, and what was more, a pair of satchets of tea were in the envelope too, one labeled 'almond sugar cookie' and the other 'vanilla oolong'. And of course there was a letter.]
Dearest light,
As I put pen once more to paper I find myself driven to beg your forgiveness for the delay. I assure you that it has taken a lot to keep me from basking in the warmth of your very presence. Of course we both knew this was far too possible to be true, I had just hoped expectation did not match reality.
Yet for all that you have not been in my presence in truth, I find you so often sauntering through my mind. I find myself certain that while some force may have brought us into each other's orbits, they do not affect us now. Truly with each day I am more certain that what I feel is true, and something I should not hold myself back from.
More and more as I read and reread and consider your words, I find myself wishing that perhaps our positions were reversed. That I was brought to Ivalice, or perhaps at least a world similar enough to it that you would be on solid footing. Would that I could give you your friends here, instead of mine. I am used to learning to be on my own, but you, mon bijou, I think need those you trust and love around you more than you may say aloud, or even on paper. And, of course, I have traveled many worlds, but never have I been graced by one like you describe.
Since you speak of your life and what it has been like for you, and what it makes you, so perhaps I should share the openness with you. They are words I don't know that I could offer aloud. I have spent much of my life trying to appear in control, and afraid of being out of it. More than once I have thought myself in a good place, only to be abandoned. My life has been one of so many trials, and so much loss. I lost myself more than once too. But in you I find myself.
I suppose it's not entirely finding myself, but I find you, and what you are feels right. I feel like I don't need to pretend with you. I can just be me, and I don't feel shame about who I am. You make me excited to be David Alleyne. You make me wake up and when I look in the mirror I see myself and I don't flinch away. I feel like i'm worth more when I see myself through your eyes.
Perhaps the moon needs another light to tell him that he's worth it. But the more he looks upon the light that guides he wishes he could reflect, the more he begins to think it is not the candle he looks upon, but a star fallen to the Earth. Perhaps it is not among its ilk, but it is no less stunning for the fact that it flickers below.
Would that a novel were enough to write to express all these feelings in my heart. But it's not. So I ask instead for your patience. And, perhaps, the pleasure of your company the night after tomorrow, for more food and watching of things, before I am truly overwhelmed by another tide of duties. I beg that you allow me this chance to bask in your light.
[The cards in with the third letter make David laugh with delight, and the very next day his errands included finding a replutable place to have the pair professionally framed. They would, he decided, go up in whatever place he ended up living, in a place where he could see them easily. It does take another day, though, to find the time to put another letter together. This one came with no gift beyond the words themselves, and the affection that came with them.]
Dearest Light,
Allow me to impress you with the knowledge that, if this world is anything like back home, a letter posted here on a Monday would arrive anywhere in the continental territory within five days, but often less. This isn't true of parcels, just of letters, but it is nice. That aside, allow me to truly process all you've said and return my own warm sentiments.
Let us start with the fact that I fear at this point I would be hard pressed to willingly relinquish you. But there is nothing wrong in saying that time makes acceptance easier. We have a saying in my world that goes like this: absence makes the heart grow fonder. Though I cannot fahtom how much more fond I can become of you. Your affection and desire warms me, and each time I look on your words, my heart races with thoughts of you.
I fear that I'm at an advantage when I read between your lines, my darling star. I have known men like you before. I have been a man like you. Relying on others can hurt, having them taken beyond your reach can hurt, and having them leave you of their own will hurts most of all. IT can be our nature, when so many times burned, to push away the heat for fear of new scars. Yet it is in the way that we bring people close in spite of this pain that allows us to heal. I hope I can be a source of healing for you.
You should know that, more than anything else, you make me feel exquisite, make all of me feel that. You are a balm upon the wounds of my heart, a salve that allows me to mend old wounds I hadn't known had reopened. And I believe that I
[Here there is a small blot of ink that perhaps only a sharp eye might find. A moment of hesitation, the pen left too long on paper, and quickly remedied as it was turned into a word perhaps not originally intended]
loathe the very idea of how I had grown to be hurt, and am better for the soothing presence you have been. Though i must say, the continued compliments do me som good too. I don't often fish for them, but consider this my line and hook, seeking more written by your hand that I can look back on and remember myself through them.
I do find myself glad that you welcome the label of star, for it seems to me quite fitting. Yes, I see the similarities between the two celestial bodies, yet I feel even the differences are apt. A star burns, and can be used to guide. It is a thing of fire, and perhaps a source of life. They shine always, radiating light and heat and, though I expect you don't know it, noises that the human ears cannot even pick up, a constant song in the sky. The moon? It is stone, formed of the earth, and while its gravity forms the tides, it can be a lonely place even as it's strong. And here the moon is a protection for the planet, serving as a shield in some ways. It takes blows, so that life may continue. Of course you are also a thing of the winds. So between us, three of the four elements. I doubt either of us can claim the waters though.
I think I might need to hear more of this folktale, my star. I quite wish to hear what you would tell me of it, especially so I can hear what I might expect from you. Though don't tell me to hold out for the star. The star is already in my reach, and each time I come to it's light, I am blessed to cup it in my hands and let its warm glow feed my own light. If I am crowned in starlight, it is only because I wish to return some of the radiance you grant me.
Turning now to the question of Tarot, yes, I am familiar. It is not through any study of my own, but I know the designs. You should know I've gone and had them framed. When I have a place, they will hang with pride, together. Truth told, no, I've never tried my hand at printing of any form, much less woodblock. It is a rare style in this day and age. As I've noted before, artistic endeavors are hardly my skill set, as might have been seen in how easily your poem eclipsed mine. Yet for you, I'd be happy to try my hand at it. Though I confess no idea for how they work, so I might try and look into that out of curiosity. I do, though, like your read on the cards and their parallel to us, even as I enjoyed my own and hope it pleases you to hear. I will say, though, that it is not through me that you are transformed from candle to star. I believe I only helped you see the nature of your own transformation, your own ascension if you will. In a way, I was the moon, reflecting your truth to yourself. If that makes me precious to you, if it makes me even more the moon to your radiant gaze, then I take the title and I will hold it to me with both hands, for it puts me on a level where I might be truly worthy of being yours.
Know that my heart wishes little more than to be worthy of your light. Consider me a hopeless romantic to say that after so little time of knowing you, but I think what I said in the first letter was right. I was always supposed to feel that way about you. It was as inevitable as the dawn, and I'm okay with that. I embrace it.
As you do, I await your words in all the ways they may come to me.
[Within two days of David receiving a beautiful poem a package arrives at Balthier's home. Upon opening the man will find a beautifully framed item. The poem Balthier had written, in expertly done calligraphy. What's more, the poem is edged with very expertly done pen and watercolor images of the moon in all its phases.
Amid it all, to cover the spaces, there are careful sketches of the constellations of this world.
There's no note with it, but is there any question as to who it's from? Well, just for that, there's a single card with the golden wax David uses and the impression of his seal. And on the other side the tiniest message of 'I love you'.]
[ Balthier knows the names of those constellations from David, and that only adds to the warmth of the gift. He knows, too, the effort that calligraphy takes, and the images. It's barely a day before the piece is on the wall in his bedroom, where he can see it when he wakes up. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
Letter 2: Feb 18th
Date: 2022-02-26 03:50 am (UTC)Dearest light,
As I put pen once more to paper I find myself driven to beg your forgiveness for the delay. I assure you that it has taken a lot to keep me from basking in the warmth of your very presence. Of course we both knew this was far too possible to be true, I had just hoped expectation did not match reality.
Yet for all that you have not been in my presence in truth, I find you so often sauntering through my mind. I find myself certain that while some force may have brought us into each other's orbits, they do not affect us now. Truly with each day I am more certain that what I feel is true, and something I should not hold myself back from.
More and more as I read and reread and consider your words, I find myself wishing that perhaps our positions were reversed. That I was brought to Ivalice, or perhaps at least a world similar enough to it that you would be on solid footing. Would that I could give you your friends here, instead of mine. I am used to learning to be on my own, but you, mon bijou, I think need those you trust and love around you more than you may say aloud, or even on paper. And, of course, I have traveled many worlds, but never have I been graced by one like you describe.
Since you speak of your life and what it has been like for you, and what it makes you, so perhaps I should share the openness with you. They are words I don't know that I could offer aloud. I have spent much of my life trying to appear in control, and afraid of being out of it. More than once I have thought myself in a good place, only to be abandoned. My life has been one of so many trials, and so much loss. I lost myself more than once too. But in you I find myself.
I suppose it's not entirely finding myself, but I find you, and what you are feels right. I feel like I don't need to pretend with you. I can just be me, and I don't feel shame about who I am. You make me excited to be David Alleyne. You make me wake up and when I look in the mirror I see myself and I don't flinch away. I feel like i'm worth more when I see myself through your eyes.
Perhaps the moon needs another light to tell him that he's worth it. But the more he looks upon the light that guides he wishes he could reflect, the more he begins to think it is not the candle he looks upon, but a star fallen to the Earth. Perhaps it is not among its ilk, but it is no less stunning for the fact that it flickers below.
Would that a novel were enough to write to express all these feelings in my heart. But it's not. So I ask instead for your patience. And, perhaps, the pleasure of your company the night after tomorrow, for more food and watching of things, before I am truly overwhelmed by another tide of duties. I beg that you allow me this chance to bask in your light.
I await your response eagerly.
Ever your humble companion,
David
Letter 3: Feburary 24th
Date: 2022-02-26 09:32 pm (UTC)Dearest Light,
Allow me to impress you with the knowledge that, if this world is anything like back home, a letter posted here on a Monday would arrive anywhere in the continental territory within five days, but often less. This isn't true of parcels, just of letters, but it is nice. That aside, allow me to truly process all you've said and return my own warm sentiments.
Let us start with the fact that I fear at this point I would be hard pressed to willingly relinquish you. But there is nothing wrong in saying that time makes acceptance easier. We have a saying in my world that goes like this: absence makes the heart grow fonder. Though I cannot fahtom how much more fond I can become of you. Your affection and desire warms me, and each time I look on your words, my heart races with thoughts of you.
I fear that I'm at an advantage when I read between your lines, my darling star. I have known men like you before. I have been a man like you. Relying on others can hurt, having them taken beyond your reach can hurt, and having them leave you of their own will hurts most of all. IT can be our nature, when so many times burned, to push away the heat for fear of new scars. Yet it is in the way that we bring people close in spite of this pain that allows us to heal. I hope I can be a source of healing for you.
You should know that, more than anything else, you make me feel exquisite, make all of me feel that. You are a balm upon the wounds of my heart, a salve that allows me to mend old wounds I hadn't known had reopened. And I believe that I
[Here there is a small blot of ink that perhaps only a sharp eye might find. A moment of hesitation, the pen left too long on paper, and quickly remedied as it was turned into a word perhaps not originally intended]
loathe the very idea of how I had grown to be hurt, and am better for the soothing presence you have been. Though i must say, the continued compliments do me som good too. I don't often fish for them, but consider this my line and hook, seeking more written by your hand that I can look back on and remember myself through them.
I do find myself glad that you welcome the label of star, for it seems to me quite fitting. Yes, I see the similarities between the two celestial bodies, yet I feel even the differences are apt. A star burns, and can be used to guide. It is a thing of fire, and perhaps a source of life. They shine always, radiating light and heat and, though I expect you don't know it, noises that the human ears cannot even pick up, a constant song in the sky. The moon? It is stone, formed of the earth, and while its gravity forms the tides, it can be a lonely place even as it's strong. And here the moon is a protection for the planet, serving as a shield in some ways. It takes blows, so that life may continue. Of course you are also a thing of the winds. So between us, three of the four elements. I doubt either of us can claim the waters though.
I think I might need to hear more of this folktale, my star. I quite wish to hear what you would tell me of it, especially so I can hear what I might expect from you. Though don't tell me to hold out for the star. The star is already in my reach, and each time I come to it's light, I am blessed to cup it in my hands and let its warm glow feed my own light. If I am crowned in starlight, it is only because I wish to return some of the radiance you grant me.
Turning now to the question of Tarot, yes, I am familiar. It is not through any study of my own, but I know the designs. You should know I've gone and had them framed. When I have a place, they will hang with pride, together. Truth told, no, I've never tried my hand at printing of any form, much less woodblock. It is a rare style in this day and age. As I've noted before, artistic endeavors are hardly my skill set, as might have been seen in how easily your poem eclipsed mine. Yet for you, I'd be happy to try my hand at it. Though I confess no idea for how they work, so I might try and look into that out of curiosity. I do, though, like your read on the cards and their parallel to us, even as I enjoyed my own and hope it pleases you to hear. I will say, though, that it is not through me that you are transformed from candle to star. I believe I only helped you see the nature of your own transformation, your own ascension if you will. In a way, I was the moon, reflecting your truth to yourself. If that makes me precious to you, if it makes me even more the moon to your radiant gaze, then I take the title and I will hold it to me with both hands, for it puts me on a level where I might be truly worthy of being yours.
Know that my heart wishes little more than to be worthy of your light. Consider me a hopeless romantic to say that after so little time of knowing you, but I think what I said in the first letter was right. I was always supposed to feel that way about you. It was as inevitable as the dawn, and I'm okay with that. I embrace it.
As you do, I await your words in all the ways they may come to me.
Ever Yours,
David
After Expo Letter
Date: 2022-04-22 04:28 pm (UTC)Amid it all, to cover the spaces, there are careful sketches of the constellations of this world.
There's no note with it, but is there any question as to who it's from? Well, just for that, there's a single card with the golden wax David uses and the impression of his seal. And on the other side the tiniest message of 'I love you'.]
Re: After Expo Letter
Date: 2022-04-22 05:46 pm (UTC)