#E'manafa

[kannedia]

Adventurin's a risky business

What drew you to it?

Points in the journey between Satasha, Tam Tara, and Copperbell.

Written for FFXIV Swap.

"For Glory!"

"Honor!"

"And the many songs of Bards!"

Daca'li watched as the trio made a toast with one brow raised. The words seemed familiar to them. Almost as though they had said them before. He half imagined they said such at nearly every bar.

Dolorous Bear was grinning in his mug as he drank and was still grinning as he turned to face Daca'li. "You do not wish to join our toast, sir?"

"It's Daca'li." Daca'li corrected quickly, he hoped that his armor successfully hid the flush climbing up his neck. "You can just call me Daca'li"

The other two were smiling at him. For what reason, Daca'li couldn't be sure.

"I'm E'manafa." She was half done with her drink. A feat that would have been more impressive were he not to know the quality of ale they could afford.

"You may call me Kikina," She was working on her drink small sip by small sip. Which was good for her sobriety, Daca'li guessed, but not quite helpful when it came to the taste.

"And I," Their leader put his cup down carefully yet sturdily before proclaiming. "am Dolorous Bear. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Kikina and E'manafa agreed heartily with him at this.

"I think we would all like to thank you for joining us for drinks too," E'manafa added before taking another drink.

"Now let us have another toast." Dolorous Bear chimed in, raising his own near-empty glass.

Daca'li smiled half-heartedly, nodded, and joined the group in the new toast. This one was much more quiet. Which was for the best as Daca'li had noticed Baderon sparing them occasional glances. Perhaps the volume wasn't welcome.

---

Edda was barely touching her tea. Which, he supposed, was understandable given the circumstances.

Daca'li wasn't sure why he had invited her. He couldn't say he knew the young woman. They had never spoken before. Though he had overheard her being yelled at by her friends outside Satasha.

An uncomfortable memory given what had happened to the group. And perhaps why he couldn't bring himself to leave the young woman alone. If nothing else, he hoped some tea and a listening ear would help her.

Daca'li took a drink from his own cup before he spoke up, voice gentle. "Do you have any plans for where you'll go next?"

She blinked owlishly at him, seemingly startled by the sound of his voice.

"I... I'm not sure. I was thinking of going back home and restarting my training." Edda answered after a moment of thought.

Daca'li leaned back in his chair as he listened to her continue to speak. Her words were slow but steady. They were mostly of Avere, the lad who had been yelling at her and apparently, her intended. The two apparently had many plans for their future together. Or at least she did. And they all involved seeing the world together as adventurers.

He didn't know quite what to say to any of it. He couldn't exactly share his opinions of Avere. That would not be helpful. At all. Nor would more condolences, though he doubted she received any from her teammates.

He tried to think of what he would say to one of his nieces in such a situation. Only to promptly wish to any divinity that was listening that they would never have to.

Daca'li held back a sigh. He felt he really should help the lass. If not as a fellow adventurer then as one of her elders of sorts.

"Edda," He started once she had finished speaking. "If there is something I can do to help, please let me know."

----

"Well, Daca'li. Do you think you'll be taking them up on that offer?"

Daca'li paused looking from the older elezen Isildaure to his grandaughter Alianne and then back again. Isildaure seemed to be genuinely curious about the whole thing. For a mercy, it sounded like a rather supportive curiosity.

If Alianne shared her grandfather's interest, she wasn't sharing it. Instead, she seemed to be stuck on whether or not she should make some displeasure with his bluntness obvious.

Daca'li really should have seen this coming, or so he was telling himself, when he mentioned that he was offered an interview for a group. He had not told them the name.

Or even a little further back when he ran into them at the Quicksand. He had just been leaving after asking Momodi about the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. They were entering to speak to Momodi for their own reasons. There was an invite for drinks and talk. It seemed like a good idea at the time to agree.

If he were honest with the two of them and himself, he would say he wasn't entirely sure. This was the first time he had even heard about the group. Momodi said they were to be trusted. That their goals were honorable ones. And there was the chance that they could help him with his sudden headaches and the visions that came with them.

"I think I'll wait until I've met the rest of them before I've made that decision." He answered, earning an approving look from both Alianne and Isildaure.

"Good, good." Isildaure smiled at him, "I was worried that what had happened had soured your taste for adventure. It's good to see that this generation is so resilient."

Daca'li returned his smile and did his best to not lend voice to the feeling that a similar conversation was had with Alianne.

"Do you two have any plans for where you'll go from here?" He asked instead.

Isildaure deflated slightly at the question. Daca'li had a feeling he knew why.

Alianne put a hand on her grandfather's shoulder. "We're not sure at the moment. Probably a short break. Perhaps we'll be able to travel together in the future."

Daca'li considered the idea for a moment. "That sounds good. I hope we can."

"To the future?" Isildaure offered, picking up his tea cup.

"To the future."

"To the future."

For the sake of Momodi and themselves, they did not clink their cups together.

[rudra-writes]

E’manafa’s Dream

(This is a short scene involving Dolorous Bear's adventuring party, before the events of Copperbell Mines. It can also be read at my AO3 here.)

It was dusk. Seated around a campfire in the towering forest of the Shroud, was an adventuring party of three people.

They were a miqo’te, a folk with cat-like ears and a tail, a lalafell, a small people gifted with a keen mind, and a roegadyn, a race of giants from the northern isles. The three of them were fast friends who had traveled together for years. Together they had faced many adventures, and seen remarkable sights far and wide.

It was spring, and the Shroud was at the height of its natural beauty. Ferns carpeted the forest floor. Lupines, daisies, and all manner of other wildflowers were in bloom. The setting sun bathed the trees in hues of golden light, while the last of the daytime birds called.

In spite of their beautiful surroundings, E’manafa, the miqo’te, was not at peace.

A pot of soup simmered over the fire. Kikina, the lalafell, was playing a slow melody on a wooden flute. She’d had plenty of time to practice, and had become quite good at it. Across from Kikina, still clad in his armor, sat the roegadyn with his hands folded. His head was tilted downwards, and his eyes were half-closed, but they knew he was listening to Kikina’s song. He was always appreciative of her playing.

The roegadyn’s name was Dolorous Bear. E’manafa guessed he had been named such for the slight, downward turn at the outer corners of his eyes. It afforded him a somewhat sad look, even when he was happy.

He was known to be ambitious. It was his dream that their heroic deeds be remembered through the ages. It was a lofty goal, but one Dolorous made seem obtainable, through rigorous self-dedication and hard work. It was he who had suggested the three of them join forces originally, and he was usually the most proactive in finding new assignments.

E’manafa had, in more than one instance, wondered if his ambition was a trait that came with being so large in size. Perhaps that would make someone braver. But it wasn’t his long-term goals she had taken special notice of, but something more subtle, something only she appeared to see. That was his kindness.

E’manafa hadn’t known many other roegadyn, but Dolorous seemed to her to be a generous man, sparing no expense to make certain she and Kikina were wanting for nothing on the road. He was brave, both in placing himself between the two of them and the dangers they encountered, as well as fully entrusting his life to them.

Perhaps it was inevitable spending so much time together, but the three of them had become like a found family. And that was part of why it was so hard for E’manafa to speak of her feelings. She knew they had a good thing, a precious thing, in the bond of their friendship. The thought of doing or saying something that could change that, gave her great hesitation.

But adventuring was a high-risk occupation. And there was never a guarantee the three of them would always be able to see one another’s faces.

If E’manafa was going to tell Dolorous her feelings, she felt it needed to be soon. She had never been a superstitious person, but she had a lingering premonition that it was something that needed to be done. Or she might regret it.

Kikina finished playing her song. Dolorous had fallen still a statue while she had been playing the flute. Now his eyelids fluttered, and the muscles under his chainmail tensed and relaxed as he stirred.

Kikina raised a brow at him. “It appears, Dolorous, that you found my performance dreadfully unexciting,” she said dryly. “You seemed ready to go into hibernation.”

The roegadyn shook his head, a sardonic smile uplifting the corners of his mouth. “If I was quiet, it was only because I had no wish to disturb our master flutist.”

Kikina nodded. “Indeed. If you had fallen asleep, this flute would have made an entirely different sound against your head.”

E’manafa hid her smirk at their banter. She judged this to be an opportune time to try to get Dolorous alone. It wasn’t unusual for one of them to need to discuss something privately with one of the others. “Dolorous, if I might have a word with you?”

The roegadyn looked over at E’manafa, then got to his feet. “We won’t be long,” he apologized to Kikina, who merely waved him off.

E’manafa led Dolorous Bear a short distance from their campfire to a shady spot under the boughs of a huge, ancient conifer. There, she turned and looked up at his face.

The roegadyn was blinking down at her curiously, a furrow of faint worry between his brows. “Something on your mind, Emmy?”

E’manafa hesitated. She could sense the impending change that was imminent between them, for good or for ill. But there was no turning from this point. She took a deep breath, and replied, “Dolorous Bear… How long have we journeyed together?”

He tilted his head, then smiled. “It will have been four years, I reckon, come summer. I can still vividly remember the day we set out... Perhaps, you are not satisfied with what we have achieved in that time?”

E’manafa was unsurprised that Dolorous’s first attempt to guess her thoughts involved concern over a perceived lack of progress, since that was usually foremost on his own mind. She shook her head. “Quite the opposite. I think we’ve come a long way since we began… and not merely in the sense of us as adventurers.”

The roegadyn nodded, slowly. “Then… in the sense of us as individuals? And friends?”

E’manafa nodded. “That’s what I was thinking. The three of us have grown and changed so much. And we were always present in one another’s lives, through thick and thin. We are more than an adventuring party now. We’ve become like a family.”

She paused, worrying her lip between her teeth. Dolorous looked concerned. “Emmy… This is nothing that I did not already know. I may not speak of the way I feel often... but you and Kikina are the most important people in the world to me. When we achieve our dream - and I’m certain we shall - there’s no one else I would rather have at my side, than you, and her.”

E’manafa nodded. “Then you would understand why I would be hesitant to tell you the way I really feel.”

For a moment, Dolorous looked pained. “You do not feel the same? Do you mean to tell me you wish to leave?”

E’manafa quickly shook her head. She reached out and took his massive, gauntleted hand in both of her own. “No, I share your dream, as strongly as ever. But what you may not know…” She swallowed, releasing his hand, “...Is that I also dream of a future, in which we are together.”

She watched as understanding slowly dawned across his face. The revelation that she had feelings for him had not, apparently, ever occurred to him. The roegadyn was utterly blindsided, blushing and struggling to form a response. Finally, he looked away, taking a moment to gather his thoughts.

“E’manafa…” Dolorous Bear began, “I am… humbled beyond words, that you would want this with me. It is very unexpected. I will not tell you that I entertained similar ideas for the future…” He turned back to the miqo’te, who was listening to him with preternatural focus, “...but, that may have been short-sightedness, on my part. I only ever thought of our shared goal. To become lauded adventurers, the kind of which stories are told.”

He sat down on a stump. “I don’t wish to cause Kikina to feel she is no longer one of us, if we were to do this. However… If the three of us can continue to be a team… and we can continue to work towards our goal… then I…” The roegadyn swallowed, “I wish to accept, if you’ll have me.”

He paused to look at her. E’manafa was covering her mouth with a hand. She moved it to wipe tears from her eyes, but she was smiling. “Dolorous…”

Dolorous smiled in return. No longer quite so worried, he was starting to look excited. “Emmy, you and I can make our own dreams for the future. Dreams I’d never before even considered… They could be ours.”

E’manafa stepped forward, towards the stump Dolorous was sitting on. He looked surprised, but managed to remain still, as she slid her hands around the sides of his broad face.

“Are you all right?” Dolorous whispered, noting the shed tears on the miqo’te’s face.

E’manafa nodded. “Yes, Dolorous. I’m so touched, and so glad… I carried these feelings inside me for so long.”

She leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

It had never before occurred to Dolorous Bear, that he might one day find something he would deem even more precious than the lifelong goal he’d always held in his heart. But he knew, as he felt E’manafa’s lips against his, that he had unexpectedly discovered such a thing. He moved to reciprocate, his kisses forming delicately around her own, tender and reassuring.

For Dolorous Bear, E’manafa, and Kikina, the world was as an open book, and all of their dreams could come true.