#|| muse | fourchenault ||

[aetherstories]

@pcndaemonium asked: “ They will consume you. Change you… into something else. ” ( from Ascian!Hege to Emmerololth)

Has it not happened already, he wonders, and oh how sudden, unwanted laughter blooms in his chest. There's no mirth to be found within it.

"You too have changed, Hegemone." He replies, in the end. "What is to say this is not for the better?"

It's a lie, and it tastes as such as he speaks it. He should be the healer of eld, not a scholar far too young to hold the memories of an immortal.

And yet they are, both ghosts.

[aetherstories]

He was not unaware of how his actions would seem, in light of his involvement with the Forum. In light of what Amaya knew, the suspicions that appeared could be even more nefarious.

There was, he told himself, little that could be done, at the moment. Either they would push the matter or they would not, but Fourchenault was still there as a representative of the Forum, and he had a goal. An agenda to push, a city to save. Even more, if it was within his means, but it rarely was. 

“That is not my intention.” He spoke, nevertheless. 

He forced himself not to look back, towards his children. He wasn’t sure his resolve could survive that. As Amaya next spoke, however, his frown turned deeper. 

“I believe we are done here, Warrior.” He sentenced. 

They would reach Sharlayan or they would not, and he would have to settle for alternative plans. Or for taking the field himself. But what Fandaniel had unleashed... there was little that could be done, but what had already been planned. And he would see his children safe.

Their anger wanes a bit and they let go of his arm only to cross their owns in front of their chest. not at liberty to talk about matters - if it had been about any ascian ploy he could talk openly to them, amaya had after all not been naive about their found family's more... questionable morals.

...the forum then, perhaps? something he could sincerely not talk about because he was fourchenault and not a member of the convocation?

"...you have to see that by pushing your children away and hindering our attempts to stop fandaniel it looks like you are either siding with him or the remaining ascians." even if that was not the case because amaya knew how much fourchenault cared for his family ( or they had thought they did ) the uneasy feeling could not be shaken off. perhaps something had changed, perhaps he now did wish for a rejoining? for the goal the ascians held... or perhaps it was the forum. whatever the true reason for his behavior it did remind amaya of someone.

"perhaps you and father are more alike than you want to admit."

[kintsugiscars]

💕💥👓!

[ three ways meme ]

💕 - Three ways my muse shows affection

Falling asleep. He is incredibly paranoid as time goes on so if he feels safe enough to sleep that's a huge sign of affection.

Talking in his real voice. He's used to hiding his true dialect to appear more heroic.

Drinking something prepared for him. Again, paranoia and trauma make it difficult to accept drink prepared by someone he doesn't trust. If he drinks tea you made, for example, he trusts you with his life.

💥 - Three ways my muse shows anger

Violence. Cliche, yes, but as someone who reigns in his anger until the breaking point, if he is pushed to violence he is impossibly upset.

Chilling calm. He does not yell. He simply narrows his eyes and talks colder.

Defiance. For example, when Fourchenault disowned the twins at the end of ShB, Lex immediately registered them as part of his family wherever he could. They have full access to his estates, they are in charge of his will, etc etc.

👓 - Three ways my muse shows intelligence

He's top tier at diffusing situations. He literally feels what everyone around him feels and as such can turn it into being able to calm people down.

He loves researching history! His area of expertise is Lominsan history and the Crystal Tower. He could bury his nose in books all day.

Despite picking up more martial classes later, he does know a lot about arcane circles due to his time as a summoner. It's a fact easily forgotten but he still enjoys reading about arcanum.

[mnemosyne-xiv]

Koana sighed. “Master Fourchenault recommended you two, along with this woman,” he said, sparing the memoriate a glance. “Why must we add a fifth?”

“If you think there's going to be too many cooks in the kitchen, you’ll be happy to learn that our friend loathes large parties and would rather work by her lonesome than entertain a crowd.” Thancred chuckled under his breath. “Besides, for as much trouble as she’s bound to cause, the insight and arcane mastery she’ll offer is more than enough to make up for her terrible attitude.”

Zero gave a faint nod. “Remia won’t disappoint.”

“Assuming thine companion deins to make an appearance,” Urianger spoke up. “Though, I find it curious she didn’t outright reject our request…”

“Talking behind a womans back is hardly polite.”

“I knew you’d come,” Zero said, a smile spreading across her lips as she turned towards her partner.

Remia shrugged while she walked up to the quartet. “You’ve agreed to go, so I have no choice but to at least humor the boy.” Her uncovered eye flicked to the man in question. And then she smirked, clearly amused with what she saw. “This is the Second Promise? Oh, what a waste of time this is about to be.”

Koana recovered from his initial shock only to glare at her. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Just look at you,” Remia mused, “and those memories of yours. My oh my, you’re going to lose to your sister because someone is too deadset on innovation without heeding the peoples wants and needs.”

“Remia,” Thancred said warningly.

She sighed. “Fine fine, what is it you want? He’s a lost cause, so perhaps you three have a better reason for urging the head of the Forum to summon me?”

Urianger nodded. “We wish for thine wisdom in the Rite of Succession.”

“Solely wisdom, or do you want me to fight for a man who isn’t fit to rule as well?” Remia asked.

“Give him a chance to speak, Remia,” Zero said.

Remia’s expression softened the slightest bit. “Go on then, tech-kitty.”

Koana exhaled a breath to calm himself. “I want to bring the technological advancements of Sharlayan to my homeland as a means of helping my people, and to repay my father for all the opportunities he has given me.”

A suffocating silence fell around them. Everyone’s attention was fixed on Remia who in turn stared at Koana, her blind eye seeing right through him. But after what felt like hours, she finally spoke.

“You’re genuine. Perhaps a bit awkward, and an utter failure when it comes to socializing—but that’s hardly a pre-requisite for a ruler considering the two voidsent i’m stuck advising on the Thirteenth…” Her voice trailed off while she further weighed the risks and rewards of this potential partnership. “Though, your heart is in the right place, your people coming first and foremost. Politics aside, ultimately that’s what truly matters.”

Zero smiled. “That’s her way of saying she’ll help.”

“Assuming you can tolerate her, that is.” Thancred then said, both him and Urianger chuckling as Remia awaited the Second Promises decision.

Koana cleared his throat. “What can you offer?”

“Depends, do you believe the golden city to be real?”

“I do.”

“And you’ll find it, no matter what?”

“I will.”

Remia cracked a smile. “Then I offer you all of my knowledge and strength in exchange for all that you learn after I make you Dawnservant.”

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

Prompt #27: Sole

Fourchenault was praying that he could get to Sharlayan quickly, for three very major reasons.

The first; getting himself and Riven into the safety of Barnier's people as fast as possible. He had just only barely fended off the assassins that had revealed themselves from the ship's crew. Whether they were Iato or Sevestre's people, Fourchenault didn't know.

The second; Riven's allies were in hot pursuit. The only thing that would check them was the threat of Priming in a fully populated area.

The third; Riven needed medical attention. From the night of the attack she'd gone catatonic, silently sitting in the corner of her cell, crying on and off. Fourchenault had ordered a light to be on at all times to soothe her terror, but it wasn't enough. And it wasn't as if Fourchenault couldn't treat her, he could. He wanted to. But if he removed the anti-magic irons--Riven could Prime. And in her state, she'd be out of control. Drugs weren't an option--a Dominant could fight their way back to consciousness. And he couldn't trust Riven to not Prime--up until the attack she'd been raising hell. Now she simply stared at the floor--weeping. She wouldn't eat or drink, and she hadn't slept. If they could reach Sharlayan, he could get her isolated in a warded space--and remove the restraints.

"Sir." One of the few remaining guards broke into Fourchenault's musings. "We're about twelve hours out."

Praise Thaliak.

"Has she changed?" The guard shook their head, and Fourchenault bit back a curse. Not that it was preventing him from swearing every single vile thought on Iato and Sevestre for putting him, the Forum--all of Sharlayan in this situation. For making him add to the trauma of a child he'd watched grow up--all because she was the sole recipient of an Eikon.

Not for the first time Fourchenault cursed Site Sixteen, and the danger that the misbegotten research was causing to the exodus plan.

[aetherstories]

Their voices are softer, gentler, a painful reminder of how young they had been, when all was lost. When all burned away, before they knew it.

He does no longer hold the height he remembered having, and he feels small beside the shades. It is even more jarring, beside these two, even if he will not waste aether in such matters.

They do not remember him, of course, and part of him is tempted not to stir things. He does not know enough of shades not to worry about stirring memories. He will not hurt them if he can help it. Then, however, Artemis speaks.

"Yes." He replies, voice almost choked, as he reaches a hand towards her shoulder. Can he touch them, he wonders?

He knows they are shades, and yet...

@aetherstories from

the shades pause their silent conversation when emmerololth approaches ; something akin to buzzing rather than the distorted voices. they both examine him behind their masks, silent and barely moving for several moments. ' you know our names ? ' one shade finally speaks up, the slightly taller of the two.

by his height he shouldn't be much older than them, but they both hesitate. something is wrong. how can that be true ? it's any other ordinary day for them, all the adults abuzz with work and research to be done about ... about what ? they never asked. they never thought it necessary. the smaller of the two, artemis, shifted on her feet. ' papa ... ? '

[aetheryic]

happy Father’s Day to my muses dads (thancred, uri, lahabrea, gaius, rusi, Fourchenault i GUESS -)

[snotsloth]

"When I was a boy, growing up in Idyllshire, I dreamed of coming here one day. I wanted to attend lectures at the Studium, read every book in Noumenon, even just sit at the harbor and watch Gleaners bring in rare samples from all over the world," Orion mused. His gaze drifted across the icy blue waters of Scholar's Harbor, taking in the bustling droves of gleaners carefully unloading and ferrying cargo, trailing little clouds of breath in the Northern air behind them.

"It's truly a shame that you were denied entry until the imminent end of the world," Y'shtola said as she joined him in leaning her elbows on the railing. She cradled one of the cafe's massive mugs in her delicate hands and the aroma of strongly brewed black tea wafted into Orion's nose. "Your intellect could have led an entire Faculty, given the opportunity."

Orion hummed a wistful agreement, his amber eyes still transfixed by the controlled chaos of Scholar's Harbor. He absentmindedly fiddled with the wedding ring on his finger, it's presence still alien to him.

"After all our adventures across this star and the First, the humble attractions of Sharlayan must feel anticlimactic," Y'shtola said.

"Are you kidding?" Orion laughed. He turned towards Y'shtola, his whole face lit up by the wonders of childhood dreams. "There's a greenhouse the size of a city underground! The Noumenon possesses ancient Allagan texts thought lost to time and some even completely unknown to the outside world. There's a spaceship in the basement! Sharlayan is everything I dreamed of as a boy and more besides!"

But then the melancholy returned, its grip tight around his chest. "It's just a shame they chose to hoard all these wonders, instead of sharing them with the wider world," he said.

"Once this is all over, we can help change that," Y'shtola said in a decisive tone. "After preventing the End of Days, convincing a bunch of stodgy politicians to open Sharlayan to the wider world should be a walk in the park."

"Thanks to us, dragons peacefully walk the streets of Ishgard," Orion added. "The conservatives on the Forum are nothing compared to the House of Lords."

Y'stola smiled up at Orion, clearly proud. "Fourchenault should be shaking in his boots. Now," she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. "Help me back to our table? My aethersight is strained after all that time in the stacks."

"It would be my pleasure," Oriona said, patting her hand and tucking his elbow close to his body so that she stayed close and didn't risk bumping into a stray chair as they strolled back to their companions.

Five years ago, Orion had been afraid to even approach Y'shtola, for fear she would dismiss him as every other Sharlayan had. Now he was walking with her, arm-in-arm through The Last Stand, sharing dreams of revolution. The man he had been then could never have dreamed of where friendship with the petite archon would lead him.

[mmorpg-escapism]

FFXIV Write 2023 - Day 6: Ring

G'raha's face lit up at the tail end of Kokkol's rant. "Do you speak of Allagan-refined adamantite, perchance?"

"You know of it?" Y'shtola veiled her surprise well, considering she had forgotten just how well-studied G'raha really was.

"Only in the most general terms, I'm afraid. I do recall that it was vital to Dalamud's construction and launch. The secrets to its creation were closely guarded, and are lost to us."

"Aye, that's the stuff! We were fortunate enough to salvage a wee bit for the aetherburner from a chunk of Dalamud that came hurtlin' our way during the Calamity. With more... well, an extra six percent efficiency would be child's play." Kokkol's face fell. "It's a cryin' shame that we've no other sources."

Alisae piped up, confused. "Surely the many shards scattered throughout Eorzea would suffice? Why not get the refined adamantite from them?"

"We've tried, believe you me," explained the engineer. "Only drive cores from Ragnarok-class internment hulks would have had any, and the gleaners haven't been able to get past the very operational defenses. It's rough going..."

"Well, finding things in dangerous places is a specialty of mine," Besany offered. "I could go, if you'd like."

"You might find that more dull than anything, given your experience." Alphinaud mused. "Besides, there are multiple internment hulks in Eorzea alone, so doing this alone may not be the most efficient option. But if we could salvage from each simultaneously..."

A lightbulb appeared to go off over the boy's head. "Thancred, is the linkshell we established before you went to Garlemald still active?"

Thancred grinned a knowing grin. "Of course. The floor is yours." A tiny bead flashed in the air for a moment, hanging between the pair as if to notate its' importance before Alphinaud caught it.

"What's this?" Fourchenault asked, bewildered.

"Gathering firewood, so to speak. Alone, we can accomplish little, but joined by others, we may yet build a bonfire to carry us heavensward."

Alphinaud put the linkpearl to his ear and let it ring for a moment. The weight of calling a favor in like this settled over every Scion in the courtyard. The bewilderment of the two Forumites in attendance only accented the gravity of what was to be done.

Then he spoke:

"This is Alphinaud. The Scions have need of you."

[autumnslance]

Thing I meant to mention was the Forum insistence on the Scions as a disruptive foreign element and expelling the entire group from the city.

Except the majority of Scions are Sharlayan citizens. Even Thancred and G'raha, originally immigrants granted citizenship in their childhoods and earning their Archon marks. We find out during the research that G'raha's originally Corvosi and sent to Sharlayan as a small child thanks to the Imperial occupation. Louisoix brought Thancred home (though did leave a lot to his specific rogue mentor) and in ShB Thancred admitted Louisoix was like a father that Thancred didn't understand how to accept when coming in off the street. The only actual outsiders of the senior group and present in the city are Estinien and (Assumed Generic Default) WoL.

Fourchenault trying to position his own children and foster brother, alongside the others, as foreigners is wild and I can only imagine even those who wanted the Scions safely out of the way lest they disrupt The Plan were struggling to keep a straight face on that one.

Also here Fourchenault is pushing the unreasonably hostile attitude that Ameliance pretty much says is a front cuz something, she doesn't know what, is going on, but it's the indication Fourchenault's outward attitude is at serious odds with his true feelings, and expression is not something he's good at anyway--which also hearkens back to Alisaie directly comparing Thancred to Fourchenault, particularly his struggles with expressing himself to Ryne in healthy ways, at one point in 5.0; it's a bit of between-quest-steps click dialogue so easy to miss, but I thought back in ShB it was interesting for Alisaie to note that, and Fourchenault's reactions in 6.0 bring it to mind.

Louisoix did great things for the world and is a hero of Eorzea to be remembered--but on a personal level, with Fourchenault, Thancred, and Moenbryda, the flaws of the mortal man show through in certain ways. The twins, and perhaps even Urianger, were young enough to not realize them. Y'shtola belonged more to Matoya and has her own stuff going on as a result, while Papalymo had his own family and was old enough to have a grasp on himself versus his beloved mentor.

Also someone on the writing team apparently likes the trope of "loving dad doesn't know how to express himself so acts like a jerkass until his head is forcibly removed from said orifice" (they do it again in Pandaemonium, and given that's involving Lahabrea, it's another instance of "Twelves' sake you and Thancred really are alike to where if we didn't know better we'd think he was your sundered reincarnation").

Sharlayan's reacting to the disagreements between Fourchenault and his children read like regular drama from a family of dramatics. Apparently in JP there's another term and cultural more being used for how he cut the twins off that isn't quite as harsh as "disowning" which'd make sense if that's the case, and makes the writing of the family side of this make way more sense than how drastically it comes across in EN initially in patch 5.5 versus how it's handled at all in EW itself.

Back to it...

Sharlayan and Labyrinthos today!

I'm always fond of the conservationist angle FFXIV takes in many of the crafting and gathering quests, and Erencille's duties, at least, fall along the same lines.

Other gleaners dealing with procuring knowledge not related to flora and fauna...we don't hear a lot of, though Shaggles' quest chain has a gleaner who apparently pestered an alchemist for a specific tool when they probably just coulda...gotten a similar one? But that might be that particular gleaner; it's a "not enough info" situation.

Mandatory MMO poop side quest. Also a Werlyt mention for a rare cheese created by masters in that region.

Erenville says workers right, and we love him for it. Also for clocking Our Heroes in their frog disguises.

The "heartbloom", better known later as Elpis flower, introduced here too, with Krile finally realizing why she's had issues since arriving in Labyrinthos. What we know now, it makes sense this is where they start conversing. Also where we get reassured as to the fate of Minfilia's soul, hints of Emet-Selch's, and reassurance Hydaelyn hasn't bound the WoL.

Keep Galuf Baldesion's name out of your mouth, lady. The Crystal Exarch comes out to play with the Forum; G'raha's experience with civic matters and city budgets and planning coming in quite handy. His slight tone and stance shifts when he goes Exarch-mode are my favorite things.

Thanks for the hand, Scholarch. Also Sevestre in the background, one of the few not wearing one of the Forum's dumb hats.

And time to meet Ameliance. Another mention here of her funding and donating to the Scions, as a way to support her children, though later we learn she was involved even before the twins left Sharlayan, keeping a hand in her father-in-law's endeavor. But she's a tad cautious here in this discussion with the WoL.

Also pretty sure her correspondence with Tataru is what got her the twins' current measurements and clothing preferences, and is the reason our receptionist didn't gift them new gear on returning from the First; Tataru knew Mom had it covered.

There's also the gift of Fourchenault's old nouliths for Alphinaud.

A few hints too from Ameliance on Fourchenault's behavior versus his true feelings, and who exactly is actually running this household. In fact, there's something about Ameliance that reminds me of Venat; not just the superficial "pale white-haired woman" angle, but the mischief, rule bending, the general delight at the world--while underneath there is a sharp, canny mind, a will of iron, and a desire to do what's right, though perhaps in a more roundabout way than we might prefer. And I feel like there's an intent there and I may need to muse over it a bit more.

You can really see where the twins get a lot of their traits when studying both Fourchenault and Ameliance.

Also sorry Alisaie, but your house is massive and fancy. My apartment could fit in the foyer. You were raised as a "spoiled princess" (and we have the receipts from ARR, darlin'), just deal with it.

So many little lore reminders and hints of things to come in later quests, or even the patches. Well worth replaying so much later for the refresher, as well as fixing my notes.

[congregenturanimarum]

i told myself i wasn't allowed to take on another muse until I had everyones icons remade and Leofard's bio done.

Me; so I could probably write fourchenault---

[aetherstories]

Fourchenault vc:

"Please do not throw my children in battle."

[autumnslance]

FFXIV Write 2024: 18 Hackneyed

“This is,” Thancred began, waving the thin paperback carelessly. “Quite possibly one of the worst things we have yet read.”

Aeryn snatched the book from him before it slipped—purposefully, the dexterous bastard—from his fingers, glowering. “You liked the characters.”

He grinned at her indignation. “I liked a character, and how she makes the others come to life when sharing scenes, but one well-written character who is quite likely the author’s self-insert cannot make up for a trite and tired plot. Which you said of it first.”

“I said it employed some hackneyed tropes that did weaken the climactic moment,” Aeryn said, trying to smooth the spine and cover again. “You’ve gotten crumbs in the binding, how in the world…”

“Anyroad,” Thancred said with a dismissive shrug. “I think we can agree that even for a cheap yellowback, it’s a stale and clichéd tale that was produced for a quick gil and will be forgotten just as easily.”

Aeryn nodded, shaking the last of the crumbs out and fixing a few dog-eared corners. “It’s the sort of novel that lives up to the stereotype of purchases from those wandering book stalls. Yet you never fail to let them stop you and sell you some tawdry affair.”

“When we were young, Fourchenault once called them a plague in the city streets, and thus did they become my favorite places from which to purchase reading material,” Thancred replied cheerfully. “I have in fact found a few rare gems among the muck, now and again.” He gestured at the tattered tome Aeryn was attempting to clean up. “This is not one of them.”

“Highly readable, though,” she mused. “You know it’s drivel, and yet keep going because it simply moves along.”

“Oh, the author has a way with words, certainly. Neither of us stumbled or grew tongue-tied whilst reading aloud. Excellent craftsmanship. Now if they could only extend that to plot and characters.”

“Perhaps they do,” Aeryn said. “The bookseller said this is an early entry in a series.”

“No!”

She nodded. “A dozen and counting, all around that one shining character and her exploits.”

Thancred rubbed his chin. “Hrm. This may bear further investigation, then.”

“You said you hated it.”

“I said it was among the worst things we’ve ever read. That doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy it. And so did you.”

“Well. Sure. But do we really want to read more?”

“Now that we are aware of the possibilities, I say we unfortunately need to. It’s become an imperative.”

Aeryn rolled her eyes.

“I’m quite serious,” Thancred said, getting up and meandering to the door. He looked over his shoulder and smirked. “Especially since some of that authorial talent with wordplay during the sex scene had quite the impressive effect on you.”

Her blush instantly darkened her cheeks as she opened her mouth to retort, snapped it closed again, and resorted to glaring and fuming about how mad she actually wasn’t. She would not throw the book—for various reasons, chief among them her tendency to baby anything bound—but it was probably one of the closest baits he had managed yet.

“Come along,” he urged, nonchalant. “Let’s find that bookseller and see if they have more of these wretched things, and if they do in fact improve with the writer’s practice.”

She did join him, and arm in arm they made their way out to Sharlayan’s streets and plazas, searching out cheap and terrible reading material.

[aetherstories]

They politely wait, and Fourchenault is grateful... in no small part because there’s something about Ameliance that draws his attention and his focus into their conversation in a way that very few matters ever could. To the point where he had not fully noticed Amaya there. 

Foolish of him, he knows: he walks now a dangerous path, and if he wants to keep his homeland safe he will have to be more observant than that... and yet, what can he do? No amount of shadows in his very soul can save him from the red in his ears, as he glances at the small Raen and levels them a faintly unimpressed look... that is very much tinged with shyness and some humor. 

“What gave you that impression?” He asks, before shaking his head, and then patting Amaya’s shoulder in a soft greeting. 

“Have you eaten today?” He asks instead. “It is still early enough for breakfast.”

Their visits have become usual enough that he doesn’t worry too much anymore... even if the suspicion that Lahabrea might be in Sharlayan remains enough to chill him to the core.

it is one of those days where a lesser ascian has enough of babysitting duty and simply drops amaya off in old sharlayan. at this point amaya has gotten used to it, knowing well who they should look for. and so they do, strolling through the streets and to the studium.

it does not take them too long to spot fourchenault but they do stay back to watch him for a little. especially his expressions while he was talking to another elezen - amaya had seen her before, ameliance, if they remembered her name correctly. they politely wait until she leaves and then quickly, the raen hurries to fourchenault's side.

"you like her, don't you? your ears are all red!"

|| @aetherstories .

[inhcritance]

who is / was your favourite muse of all time to play?

15 questions about mun’s taste in muses || Accepting

While my current favorite muse is Harry, and he's the strongest of those I write at the moment, there have been two muses that have been in a similar position, in the past.

The first was Young Xehanort, from Kingdom Hearts, and I wrote him for about two years, almost three, in several servers, but mainly with a core RPC in Discord, and for some time in Tumblr as well. There's something about a Lawful Evil mad scientist scholar with a side of archmage and evil chancellor thrown in, and humanizing parts of him and the tragedy of a villain who used to be a gentler child and yet is faced with knowing he will become evil and destroy all he loves... and cannot do anything to avoid it, that is beautiful to me.

I stopped writing him when the community I wrote him in slowly disbanded, and I've never been able to pick him back properly.

The other muse that took me by storm was an AU of Azem, from FFXIV, pretty spoilerific by nature, but which implied that their reincarnation decided to turn against humanity because they saw mortality as a tragedy. It was never too popular, but I loved them nevertheless.

Special mentions to go Lahabrea, from FFXIV (I love the grumpy eldritch evil scholar), my WoL Cassius and one AU Fourchenault I also write.

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

(un)Catagorized [i]

[In which Fourchenault gets...curious.]

---------

Why is it that whenever danger visits the world, you are never far behind?

It was a valid and fair question.  Because whenever the star was in danger, or if there was villainy afoot-it was an automatic given that either Riven Fortemps would be in the thick of things or already be in the process of doing something about the situation.  And while she certainly wasn’t responsible for all the dangers, it was just...her timing.

----

Ishgard, the Firmament current day Fourchenault flipped though the book’s pages, eyes flicking over the color plates embedded inside and their accompanying writing.  He’d just arrived from Garlemald--or rather, was making a personal stopover.  Granted he should have headed straight back to Sharlayan.  But the Forum offical had a personal research project he wanted to attend to.  And given the limited amount of information Sharlayan had on the objects of his curiosity...

Name: Lady Riven Fortemps, nee Sadler.  Age: 30 Nationality:  Limsan Profession: Adventurer Background: Limsan Master Arcanist, specialties Allagan summoning and Nym tactician. Affiliation:  Maelstrom, Storm Captain NOTE:  This Adventurer’s records have been classified by the Eorzean Grand Alliance.  Please contact your city-state’s respective Grand Company or concurrent military equivalent for permission to access these files.

Name:  Ser Augustine Bishop, nee Seymour, knighty name Truehart Age: 31 Nationality: Ishgardian Profession:  Adventurer Background:  Ishgardian paladin, Order of the Broken Blade, Captain.  Ishgardian machinist.  Affiliation:  Order of Knights Most Heavenly, Ishgard.  Immortal Flames Flame Captain NOTE: This Adventurer’s records have been classified by the Eorzean Grand Alliance.  Please contact your city-state’s respective Grand Company or concurrent military equivalent for permission to access these files.

Name: Ser Reinhardt Sauveterre, knightly name Galedancer Age: 30 Nationality: Ishgardian Profession: Adventurer Affiliation:  Order of Knights Most Heavenly, Ishgard.  Twin Adder Serpent Captain. Background:  Ishgardian dragoon, Order of the Knights Dragoon, Commander.  Master Halonic Fist fighting style. NOTE:  This Adventurer’s records have been classified by the Eorzean Grand Alliance.  Please contact your city-state’s respective Grand Company or concurrent military equivalent for permission to access these files.

Name: Ser Mathye Bishop, knightly name Purehart (healer), Conjury Dragoon (dragoon) Age: 33 Nationality: Ishgardian Profession: Adventurer Affiliation:  Order of Knights Most Heavenly, Ishgard.  Twin Adder Serpent Captain. Background:  Ishgardian dragoon, honorable medical discharge.  White Mage healer for Order of the Knights Dragoon, Commander.  Master of Sharlayan sagecraft. NOTE:  This Adventurer’s records have been classified by the Eorzean Grand Alliance.  Please contact your city-state’s respective Grand Company or concurrent military equivalent for permission to access these files.

Name:  Sebastian Astralyas Age: 32 Nationality: Sharlayan Profession: Adventurer Affiliation:  Maelstrom, First Storm Lieutenant Background: Sharlayan Thaumaturgy, Master specialization Black Magic.  Master Gunbreaker, Bojzan discipline. NOTE:   This Adventurer’s records have been classified by the Eorzean Grand Alliance.  Please contact your city-state’s respective Grand Company or concurrent military equivalent for permission to access these files.

“This looks to be about right.”  Fourchenault mused.  Or as right as he could remember from the Scions’ entry paperwork.  Setting down the first book, he picked up the second--he’d used his ambassador privileges to request permission to access the Temple Knights’ classified files on Riven and the others.  If anything, the Ishgardians had more public access records on the Warrior of Light and her companions that he didn’t have to wait for clearance for.  Including...

Extensive background check and research resulted in no known family found.  Formal adoption by Edmont de Fortemps...  Fourchenault continued reading, then closed the book with a frown.

“She couldn’t have just come out of nowhere.”  He said aloud.  Barring Allagan technology--and he’d healed her in combat, Riven bore no markers of any type of Allagan modification.

How is it that one of the star’s greatest heroes...how is it that she has no past?  How is this a mystery that hasn’t been solved?  Even in the flesh Riven was an engima.  There was no true accent to trace her backgrounds--so much travel among the different cultures of Etheirys had changed her vocal patterns. 

There was that moment when she resembled...  Fourchenault frowned.  No, that had been deja-vu.  A moment of weakness caused by his injuries.  And while his thoughts were on that tangent...

Why weren’t our files updated on her?  Personality aside, Riven was a genius when it came to her academic mastery.  Creating two new egis--one from Bahamut no less!--surviving the process and even forging a new field of study--combining arcanist mastery with other martial job disciplines--

She would have been an Archon by now.  All of them would have!  It wasn’t just Riven’s paperwork that had been lacking.  Augustine, Reinhardt, Mathye and Sebastian’s files had all been out of date.  Could there have been someone else who had harbored a grudge against the Eorzeans, and just not bothered to do the basic upkeep out of spite?

I know I’m not blameless in that regard...I disliked her greatly, and she felt the same way.  But there seems to be far more than just a simple grudge.  For a while now, Foruchenault had started to suspect that Riven and the others had been lying in their debriefs and dispatches to the Fourm.  It wasn’t something he could make an outright accusation of, it was...a feeling.  And it was only on certain topics.  The First, for example.  The quintet had been more than forthcoming with information--until it came to the tainted Light that Riven had used to defeat Emet-Selch.  Another example was Riven’s sojurn in Elpis when she’d gone back through time.

And it’s not just that.  They actively don’t trust us.  Glaring examples of this came from Riven’s companions--especially Mathye. His pointed verbal barbs and other comments while he’d been undergoing his Sage Mastery, not to mention other remarks from Augustine and Reinhardt.  And then there was Sebastian.  Fourchenault exhaled, closing his eyes.

So blinded by our duty that we neglected those who were gifted by Her among us.  A son of Hydaelyn in their midst, who now wanted nothing to do with his home.  From what he now knew of the gunbreaker’s situation, Fourchenault couldn’t really blame him. 

They’re all hiding something, and they don’t trust us.  But why?  If it was over the Forum’s...selection process for the evacuation, Fourchenault could understand that.  If it was over their treatment--well, the city had been within it’s rights, but there was an overall cultural attitude that did need adjusting.  The elezen frowned, and then shook his head.

“No.”  He said aloud.  “It’s...more personal.”  Riven and the others had at least shown they could operate in good faith professionally, and had done so.  His children trusted them with their lives, and the purity of the small group’s intentions was nigh unshakable.

...Did they encounter someone from the city who had ill intent?  Or...was there someone in Eorzea misrepresenting us?  Sharlayan was no stranger to criminals and malcontents, it had it’s problems just like every other nation.  But the more Fourchenault thought on it, the more the idea began to make a certain kind of sense.

And if that is the case...Fourchenault froze as the implications of the idea hit him.  For the level of dislike and distrust for Riven and her companions to have--if they had encountered troublemakers from the island nation...

It’s not the average citizen they have a mistrust of...it’s us!  The Forum!

“Gods be good.”  Fourchenault breathed.  Lady Fortemps, who did you and your friends encounter?