[ It was always going to end this way, Cid supposes. A part of him had hoped that things would be different here, that in time people might be convinced of their shared commitment to a better world, and the need to join together to prevent the Singularity from consuming it — but that part of him had quieted with Clive's disappearance. Now, they've run out of time.
The meeting is a blur of clashing swords and grasping arms, and when the world turns upside down, it's only his years at sea that save him, instinct urging him to fight the current toward the first sign of land. He drags himself up onto the raft only long enough to strip off his sodden jacket and heavy sword belt before diving back into the water. He's caught sight of a scaled hand, and he knows who it belongs to even before the blinding flash of light breaches the surface.
Something large moves deep beneath the water, leaving a pool of darkness behind, like a cloud of ink for Dion's body to sink into. Nothing that Cid can worry about right now. He grabs Dion's hand, hauling it over his shoulder, and wraps his own arm firmly around Dion's waist. He kicks toward the surface. He can still feel Bahamut. Dion is alive, and even while his own lungs burn for air, Cid intends to see him stay that way.
It's a struggle to drag Dion back to the raft, between the weight of his vestments and the damage that's been done to Cid's own body by the curse, but once he's there his wolf grabs hold of Dion's clothing and helps to haul him up while Cid does the same for himself.
Cid coughs between deep breaths, tasting blood at the back of his throat, but he busies himself ripping Dion's clothing open so that the heavy, sodden material won't restrict his breathing. He slaps the prince a couple of times, for good measure. ] Dion! Wake up, Gods damn you... [ His skin is ice cold. Cid can't find a pulse. ] Nir, fetch a healer.
[ The wolf goes, and that leaves Cid to tilt the prince's chin up, take a breath, and press their mouths together. When he pulls back, he places a hand against Dion's bare chest. In an ideal world, he wouldn't do this while everything was so damn wet, but he doesn't have much of a choice. Levin sparks through his palm, toward Dion's heart. Live, Cid wills him, begs him. When he still doesn't move, Cid leans in to breathe into him again. ]
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The meeting is a blur of clashing swords and grasping arms, and when the world turns upside down, it's only his years at sea that save him, instinct urging him to fight the current toward the first sign of land. He drags himself up onto the raft only long enough to strip off his sodden jacket and heavy sword belt before diving back into the water. He's caught sight of a scaled hand, and he knows who it belongs to even before the blinding flash of light breaches the surface.
Something large moves deep beneath the water, leaving a pool of darkness behind, like a cloud of ink for Dion's body to sink into. Nothing that Cid can worry about right now. He grabs Dion's hand, hauling it over his shoulder, and wraps his own arm firmly around Dion's waist. He kicks toward the surface. He can still feel Bahamut. Dion is alive, and even while his own lungs burn for air, Cid intends to see him stay that way.
It's a struggle to drag Dion back to the raft, between the weight of his vestments and the damage that's been done to Cid's own body by the curse, but once he's there his wolf grabs hold of Dion's clothing and helps to haul him up while Cid does the same for himself.
Cid coughs between deep breaths, tasting blood at the back of his throat, but he busies himself ripping Dion's clothing open so that the heavy, sodden material won't restrict his breathing. He slaps the prince a couple of times, for good measure. ] Dion! Wake up, Gods damn you... [ His skin is ice cold. Cid can't find a pulse. ] Nir, fetch a healer.
[ The wolf goes, and that leaves Cid to tilt the prince's chin up, take a breath, and press their mouths together. When he pulls back, he places a hand against Dion's bare chest. In an ideal world, he wouldn't do this while everything was so damn wet, but he doesn't have much of a choice. Levin sparks through his palm, toward Dion's heart. Live, Cid wills him, begs him. When he still doesn't move, Cid leans in to breathe into him again. ]