#I love them so much;;Thancred and his daughter going on adventure together

[oathofpromises]

Ryne released a heavy sigh, surrendering to the inevitable as she accepted being transported towards the area that would serve as their temporary base. She observed the gunbreaker, his gaze fixated on the very branch that had caused her stumble, envisioning it as the inaugural addition to their campfire. A laugh emitted from the red hair lips. If looks could kill that twig would be destroyed into tiny little pieces. Thancred possessed a profound sense of protectiveness, a natural inclination to shield and safeguard. He had always been so nice to Ryne, even treating her like a daughter. Which was a huge part of the reason she decided to take on his last name. A way to always have Thancred, her father, with her no matter where they were.

"The pain is not too severe, probably just a minor sprain. After a brief rest, I should be able to resume our mission. I apologize for once again imposing upon you with all this. I know how worried you are about the others especially after the fight with Hades."

Ryne couldn't deny that she was also worried, especially about Stella. The Au Ra had absorbed an immense amount of light, to the extent that it nearly engulfed her very soul. Even the teenage girl could tell how concerned Thancred was too for the Warrior of Light, despite the fact he didn't let it show on the surface.

"Do you seriously think Stella is alright? I noticed how eager you were to make sure she was okay before we took off. How's the healing process going for your own wounds? I know you took a few blows during that fight"

Ryne was primarily concerned about Thancred. The longer the Scions stayed here, the more it would harm their bodies. Although it didn't appear that they were in a major hurry, the teenage girl couldn't help but notice how slow Thancred was becoming. The other day, she almost caught him falling over, but as usual, he acted like it was nothing to worry about. Ryne never forgot the fight Thancred put up to exclude her from the action. She reasoned at the time that it was because he didn't trust her or even actively disliked her presence. An naive part of Ryne didn't want to think about how she'd been convinced that this one man loathed her with every fiber of his being.

The girl winced when she examined her ankle and realized it was swollen. As she endeavored to speed up the healing process, a green aura surrounded her hand. This entire trip was her idea, and she was just getting started by being hurt again. Ryne wondered if the Warrior of Darkness had ever experienced anything like this.

🌸｡*ﾟ+. Continued | @oathofpromises

'No wonder the people avoid coming here.'

Thancred couldn't help the amused huff that escaped him at her words, a hand coming to rest atop her shoulder as they traversed the empty expanse beyond the wall. No, he didn't imagine people wanted to venture beyond the looming frozen tidal wave of pure light, where nothing but WHITE met the gaze as far as the eye could see. Still, after the discovery of Eden, Ryne truly felt there was a chance to heal the Empty and bring LIFE back to the land.

Guiding her so as to keep in step with himself, the Hyur glanced up at the sky, noting how low the sun was beginning get. She was right, it would be time to set up camp so as to wind down comfortably and not trip--

Ah... well, perhaps his thoughts brought this little mishap to fruition?

"Oh dear-- Here, arms around my neck. Quick, now." He ushered the girl SWIFTLY into his arms, lifting her effortlessly so as to not irritate her ankle any further. "Are you alright?" There came that familiar expression of concern, eyes searching her visage first before trailing over to the twisted appendage. With the dying light, it was hard to ascertain the extent of the damage done.

A FIRE-- He would need to build a fire first and get her seated comfortably.

"Rest here, for a moment. I'll make us a fire and properly assess the damage shortly. Does it hurt...?" Came the inquire as he set her around the remnants of their prior night's camp... though, not before readjusting his coat around her shoulders to ensure she was properly covered and SUFFICIENTLY warmed in the meantime.

The FIRST victim for their fire would be that offending piece of wood to have tripped her in the first place.

[cidnangarlond]

can you give a summary or synopsis of fortunas character? I like seeing her but i know nothing about her!! Other than cid and her being Very Good Friends (joke)

YESSSS I'll give a quick lil rundown

So Fortuna Forsythia was the name she took when she left her family in the Skatay Mountains (where the Veena Viera are from) and was originally known as Petra Ymir! She has a sister named Sonja. Fortuna left home at about 18 shortly after her birthday longing for adventure and wandered for a bit until she came upon a small town. She stayed for a bit to help with hunting and an Elezen lancer named Ilya came into town and Fortuna fell in love instantly and begged him to teach her how to use a lance and he does! The romantic feelings are mutual but aren't together for long because he dies protecting the town from a giant goobbue and Fortuna also loses an eye during all this. She recovers and I'm always split between she shamefully goes back home and stays for awhile before setting off again or just wandering for another few years trying to teach herself the way of the lance before ultimately ending up in Gridania.

For that period between Ilya's death and coming to know Cid her emotions were very muted. Never smiled at all, very serious, didn't really laugh either, just very stoic. (This leads to a thing with the Scions and namely Thancred trying to get her to smile.) When she meets Cid she's very much despairing about falling in love again but fortunately our resident engineer has plot armor and we don't have to worry about anything. Unless Yoshi-P gets some ideas. But she and Cid have their first kiss in the Praetorium remember when it was an 8-man duty and not 4 and there were memes about how many cutscenes there were. I remember. There were so many. They removed all the good Cid cutscenes from Castrum and Prae but what IS good is I recorded them all. But they were good for my Cid/Fortuna agenda. They got married like right after Estinien-Nidhogg was defeated because to Cid he was not going to let Fortuna run off and do more crazy shit without first being able to call her his wife. (He left the ring at the Manufactory and Biggs and Wedge, who were covertly following them, had to throw him the ring box. Cid got too excited and left without it.)

Very close friends with Haurchefant so it was very sad for her when he died. Likewise good friends with Estinien because they are both Dragoons. Fortuna was solely a Dragoon up until the last of the Pandemonium raids dropped and then she (aka me) finally branched out into different jobs, like Dancer, Summoner, etc. Dawntrail was the first expansion she went into not as a Dragoon! Very big time for her.

Fortuna and Cid do have two children, one is a daughter named Yda who was born between the end of Stormblood and the beginning of the Stormblood patch quests (which I imagine there was a good few months in between them). Their son Fortuno (Cid was adamant a child be named after her and not him) was born between the end of Endwalker and the beginning of the Endwalker patch quests. So she was up there on the moon, pregnant. Yda and Fortuno will eventually have arguments of "WELL SHE WAS PREGNANT WITH ME WHEN SHE LIBERATED DOMA AND ALA MHIGO" and "YEAH? WELL SHE WAS ON THE MOON FIGHTING GOD WHILE PREGNANT WITH ME" you know how siblings are. Estinien frequently comes over for dinners and the kids love him he's uncle Estinien to them and lets Yda put bows in his hair and play tea party with her. He also enjoys playing with Fortuno and it all reminds him of when he was young in Ferndale before Nidhogg came through and is also reminded of his younger brother. Nero likewise comes through for dinner now and then because he enjoys Fortuna's cooking and in exchange he HAS to let the kids play with him. Play with the children or you aren't eating. He is teaching them to be too dramatic through play-acting and making up stories but we all have uncles or know someone's uncle who is supremely dramatic.

They do have a house somewhere don't ask me where they just have a house and it exists. When Fortuna is off saving the realm Cid brings the children to the Ironworks and everyone LOVES them so much. Tataru makes them cute outfits. The Scions all love them. Alphinaud and Alisaie are like younger siblings to Fortuna so she cares about them immensely and they take being aunt and uncle/godparents to Yda and Fortuno very seriously.

LET'S SEEEEE WHAT ELSE. Her patron god is Halone. Her favorite color is purple and her birthday is 1/15 (which is also my birthday and my favorite color). She is blind in her left eye. She is right-handed. She enjoys sweets but doesn't like to advertise it a lot. Her favorite food is really any variety of steak (medium or medium-rare). One of her favorite places aside from Ishgard because of the snow is the beach, she loves to swim. She likes to mine and likes to weave/craft and has contributed immensely to Sharlayan (through the custom delivery quests) as well as to the Ishgardian Firmament restoration. Her lucky number is 7. She loves roses and sunflowers.

Sorry I said this was going to be brief it was NOT in fact brief.. But hopefully you had fun learning about Fortuna :]

[chysgoda]

Debonair

Post 5.55

X’rhun hummed to himself as he looked through his jewelry box for the garnet cuff links Arya and Bel had gifted to him a moon past, on his name day. He smiled fondly thinking of the wrapping paper that had been decorated with artfully childish drawings of rapiers and roses and the tag that had simply read ‘Father’ in what he recognized as Bel’s best ‘from the office of the Lord Speaker’ handwriting. He glanced at himself in the mirror as he finished settling the cuffs of his shirt. The crows feet at the corners of his eyes had deepened in the eight years since he’d met his girls and he fancied he could name the individual care and laugh lines caused by a pair of daughters who had chosen dangerous trades. He smiled and ran a thumb over one of the cuff links, the title had been the kind of jest that obfuscated a heartfelt sentiment.

Such a family he’d stumbled into that afternoon at the Coin and Coffer the day he and Art’imis had first met.

“Father isn’t a bad look on you lovely.” X’rhun looked up from fussing with his ascot to see Riol standing behind him in the mirror. The spy smiled and stepped forward to kiss his lover’s cheek. “General Tarupin asked Thancred and I to double check the security measures for the Sultana's birthday party. We just finished. ”

X’rhun turned around to claim a proper kiss from the other man. “That will help put Art’imis’s mind to rest.”

“Don’t blame her,” Riol’s easy smile vanished as bitter memories surfaced briefly. “That was… a bad night.”

X’rhun brushed his thumb across Riol’s cheek.

“Papashan must have been put out by that request.”

“Papashan can put on big boy pants and deal with it.” Riol said flatly. He leaned into X’rhun’s touch and suddenly his smile came back, “I’m afraid I have bad news from the adventurer’s guild though.”

The Miqo’te mage arched an eyebrow and let his hand drop only for Riol to catch it and lace their fingers together. The blond’s smile became a grin. “I’m afraid you've been ousted as the guild’s favorite discreet bodyguard and arm candy for formal occasions.”

X’rhun put a hand to his chest to mime a heart attack the effect was spoiled by the amusement in his eyes though, “Say it’s not so! Who could they possibly replace me with.”

“The Ashley twins.” Riol laughed.

“I thought they were in Doma?” X’rhun straightened up from his play acting and pulled away from Riol so that he could retrieve his frock coat from its hanger.

“Just got back a month ago, evidently they got themselves some shinobi training out East.”

“And they’ve ousted me?” X’rhun shook his head and chuckled. “Serves me right for not checking in for jobs more often I suppose.”

“Nah, Momondi said there’d be too much drama given how you and Art are anything but subtle. Evidently she’s forcing them to go to the weaver’s for fashion lessons.”

“Oh that would be something to see.” X’rhun paused for a moment to admire the embroidery on the short coat. Black embroidery on black fabric added texture without calling attention to what the designs were, and scattered here and there were tiny blood red crystals with such clarity that the black silk beneath could be seen. Acramina arrays for aether acceleration and control, protection from the elements as well as blunt force trauma. He wondered how Redolent Rose had coaxed an arcanist away to come join the weavers. And for that matter he’d gotten his hands on what he knew where crystals being grown in a going experiment between the Goldsmiths, Alchemists, Arcanists, and Thaumaturges, and Godbert Manderville. (On second thought it had probably been Manderville). The coat layered over a closely fitted waist coat of deep red silk cross woven with ebony black. Here the arrays had been embroidered with glittering gold work and the same red crystals as the coat.

“Redolent really did outdo himself this time,” Riol didn’t bother to hide how much he admired the cut of the pants and how much it flattered X’rhun’s ass. “Still glad it’s you two and not me rubbing elbows with Ul’dah’s elite.”

“I remember something about the Admiral banning you from formal events?” X’rhun chuckled and turned just enough that Riol could see all he wanted.

Riol grinned but didn’t elaborate on the rumor. Instead he stepped around to X’rhun’s front to straighten the lay of the frockcoat’s collar. He moved to straighten the ascot and got his fingers smacked for his trouble. “I love you dearly Riol but there are toddlers that could tie a better ascot or cravat than you.”

The blond hyur pouted, “Are you impugning my fashion sense?”

“That would imply there was one to start with.” X’rhun said, dry as the Sangolii. He offered a courtly arm to his lover and Riol linked their elbows like a farmer and his wife walking to market. The mage laughed and kissed the rouge’s cheek. “Let’s go see if the girls are done fussing with our kitten yet.”

Riol laughed and motioned for X’rhun to take the lead, “Lead the way dear Nuhn.”

They laughed and teased each other as they went to find their missing lover.

[thevoilinauttheory]

Lothaire for the Give you a character thing

[ I wasn't expecting to see my own character(s) on the list, but here he is! I will take any day to talk about them lol Thank you so much for the ask, @cadrenebula! ]

How I feel about this character:

From an OOC standpoint, it's strange to say that I have mixed feelings about my own characters, but Lothaire is one of those characters. Mostly because... Maximiloix was my main for years upon years until I made Lothaire on Mateus and met my spouse on him. I'm a little sad about that, because I thoroughly enjoy playing as Maximiloix, but he's so far behind, that I can't really bother to pick him up as my main anymore. So Lothaire is my main now, and most played OOCly, and one of the least played ICly. ICly - I love Lothaire. He's a nervous dork. He's perfect Dad™ material. Finding plots for him can be hard, considering that he's a rather tame character - and all plots I've done in the past are just that, in the past, and it's not likely that those plots will repeat. Currently, he's working with his grandfather to find a way to the First, which they had heard about in some reports - and all that time he spent trying to prove travel between stars was not for naught! He's a little too curious for his own good and tends to find himself in trouble. A lot. Especially with how absolutely clumsy he is. (I'd say, think Pippin from LotR kind of clumsy - except Lothaire is an academic that likes to stick his nose in things he shouldn't). When he's not getting himself into trouble (in which, his husband usually drags him out of), they run an orphanage and school together in the Beds. He is also a part time jeweler! (Which I gave to him, because of my own love for making jewelry), he also dances fairly well for someone who can't seem to climb up stairs without tripping at least twice. He has the Echo both regularly and his WoL!Verse. It's simple, and he usually uses it for his research - since he'll get visions of the past, he tries to apply that to his studies in hisory, and always hopes he'll get another one when he's on a trip out. Though in his WoL!Verse, he actually finds the damn thing annoying and interruptive. Overall: He is a relatively harmless and anxious scholar.

All the people I ship romantically with this character:

Well, I'm going to start with his husband. Duh.

I think the story's been said a couple times, but Misha and Lothaire met by happenstance... very strange happenstance. After a conversation with his friend, Aumix, who is a rather prickly fellow (and belongs to a friend) - Lothaire tripped over a chair in the Drowning Wench and broke his glasses after landing face first on the floor. Now, anyone who knows Lothaire, knows that he is incredibly blind without his glasses. Instead of helping the poor man home, Aumix leaves Lothaire to his own devices... which caused him to trip again and fall three stories off the balcony and into the ocean (luck made sure he hit the water, or else he could have been very dead). Misha happened to be picking up a shipment at the docks near the Fishermen's Guild, and only barely caught sight of the bean pole swimming poorly towards him. After helping him up, Lothaire insisted on thanking him properly once he was able to get his spare glasses from his apartment.

They are now married, have eight kids (that they own, not including the ones staying in their orphanage) and a cat... that Lothaire is highly allergic to. He really couldn't be happier for his situation! (I rarely get inspiration from other media for my characters, but Lothaire is definitely a lot like Maes Hughs from FMA when it comes to his kids. And would probably die as easily too.)

Then there's his WoL!Verse. In which. All of my characters have some NPC I ship them with in some way. For Lothaire, it was complicated.

I initially shipped him with Thancred - because they were both alcoholic messes with a pension for bad decisions. This ended up in a several night stand, during which Lothaire became very attached (as he is wont to do); but as a WoL, he wasn't going to show that Thancred's sudden aloofness was hurting him. And soon - eventually - he just ended up ignoring Thancred altogether, and acted as if he didn't exist until he really needed to exist.

Lothaire would get crushes on others but never act on them, being as busy as he was, and it wasn't until the events of Shadowbringers that everything finally settled. Though, much to his surprise, it wasn't just Thancred that came forward and apologized, but Urianger too, before him. Then he was stuck in the middle of this, what I believe to be, perfect Dad™ OT3. They like to embarrass him - because it's not hard to do. (Unlike his grandfather's lovelife, Lothaire isn't afraid to admit he has one.)

My non-romantic OTP for this character:

Lothaire has a few friends! Not many, but a few! The first being Aumix Fourchetaix - who started off just as a bodyguard for him while he did his field work. But Lothaire is kind of hard to hate, and even though the man was kind of prickly, he did care on some level for Lothaire.

One of Lothaire's best friends is his cousin, Honorie Fauvier. They've always gotten along, despite their vastly different upbringings; and their daughters were fast friends too. Honorie was always a voice of reason for him - while he brought the light of adventure into her life.

And the last would be Danny Harold (Avis, as he knows him). Their friendship started through Maximiloix, and while he wouldn't consider him a close friend, he would consider him a family friend - and does open his house to him from time to time, or whenever he needs it.

My unpopular opinion about this character:

Having an unpopular opinion about my own character is a little weird, and I'm not certain how that would go.

But my "unpopular opinion" is that if people think they know Lothaire, they don't. He has so many layers to him, it's hard to unpack, and even harder to write.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

I wish I was able to give him more fuck-ups with love before he married. His story seemed to be a perfect fairytale, and that wasn't really my initial intention. I wanted him to go through a lot of hardship to get where he was, with more interaction from other people. Because of how quickly his story progressed, he never got time to make mistakes or even meet too many people.

[windup-dragoon]

I wanna hear more on the kind of parents Kiri and her princely husband would be 👀 -slides back into the Lurking Abyss-

AAAAAAAAA Thank you for humoring me. ;;;; This is actually one of my favorite topics between these dorks??? Because family stuff melts my rotten little heart. ;u; Yo this is going to be hella long though so sorry about that. 

The News: 

Childbearing definitely was never big on Kiri’s to-do list in life. Always busy running off into danger and going on adventures, who has time to raise kids? The thought of being a mother in any aspect never really crossed her mind, besides maybe adopting stray animals and affectionately referring to them as her children. 

But with Hien in her life, her thoughts on this change. Seeing Hien interact with the kids that she helped in Revenant’s Toll, the way he spoke and laughed with them ends up melting a bit of her heart. He has such a way with children, even newborns around Doma when he’s out having social hours with his countrymen and women. Eventually Kiri surprises Hien by telling him she wants to have kids. With him. All of the negatives she used to see in having children become just another challenge for her to overcome, with Hien at her side, she can do anything. 

It isn’t until after their official marriage that they finally achieve this goal. Kiri, while in Eorzea doing whatever it is she does, has stomach troubles and is a little alarmed by everything that’s happening. She doesn’t typically get sick, unless she’s in Ishgard for extended weeks in which she will develop a terrible cold, so these symptoms have her visiting healers of any sort or maybe even reaching out to friends for advice. 

When she’s given the official news, she’s immediately stunned. Of course she’s aware of how children are made and all that jazz, but it didn’t occur to her that it would be so sudden. Kind of an ‘oh that’s right, that’s something that we did’ moment. At first she’s too shocked to say anything, or even move; the nurse who delivered the news worries Kiri wasn’t expecting to be pregnant. But it isn’t that the news is bad. Her mind is racing, her heart pounding while her stomach continues to feel queasy. After the initial shock, Kiri fully accepts her condition with a big, goofy ass grin. 

She returns to Doma to tell Hien the news as immediately as she can, after of course settling whatever task she was in the middle of accomplishing in Eorzea. All of Doma is gathered for a festival when she returns, one that runs late into the night with fireworks shot off from the Dairyu Moon Gates and over the One River. It’s here that she tells Hien. She pulls him away from his merriment of drinking with friends and socializing, in between loud bursts of colored fire over head; Kiri tells him he’s going to be a father. 

Pregnancy: 

They’re both new to this whole situation. Neither really having much experience besides common sense and what they’ve been told by those who know about the pregnancy. Hien and Kiri decide to keep it quiet for the time being, the only ones outside of caretakers and themselves are the Scions who Kiri felt she had to tell immediately and some of their Eorzean friends who would otherwise try to recruit Kiri for more shenanigans. Hien is very affectionate during this time, never too far from Kiri if he can help it or enlists Yugiri and Az’hala to help keep tabs on his adventuring wife should he be called away to the Alliance or any of his other responsibilities. 

At night they stay up and talk things over, to help calm each others nerves or any fears they might have as time passes. Kiri is relatively relaxed throughout the whole pregnancy, although she does have moments where she wishes Lynawyb could be with her. She wonders if Lynawyb would have been excited to be a grandmother, Eyriwolk would have made a fantastic grandpa. During these times, Hien also makes mention that he too wishes Mina and Kaien could be with them. And don’t you dare for a moment think they don’t try to send word to Gosetsu. Gosetsu is more apart of their family than anyone knows. 

Hien often speaks to Kiri’s tummy, even in the earliest stages when she hasn’t even begun to show. She finds it amusing and usually wakes up to him speaking in Doman to her tummy. She quickly begins to recognize certain phrases like good morning. 

When they finally announce it to all of Doma, mainly due to Kiri beginning to show signs, it’s a huge celebration. Their friends from Eorzea are invited to attend the festivities, even members of the Alliance are extended an invite. 

After many requests from Sadu to come visit, Kiri and Hien eventually travel out to the Steppes. Sadu, believing she’ll get to fight with Kiri, is dumbstruck when she realizes what’s up. But instead of throwing a tantrum or getting upset, Sadu is very supportive of Kiri and asks that she visits more so she can help. Kiri briefly wonders who Sadu thinks her child will be the reincarnation of. Magnai dismisses the entire interaction as boring, pretty typical of Magnai, while Cirina, much like Sadu, is excited and supportive. Both Sadu and Cirina offer medicines and herbal teas for Kiri to try that their tribes often use themselves. 

It’s Time!: 

As it draws closer to her delivery date, Hien is an absolute wreck. Nervous beyond belief and struggling to keep Kiri in one place. But she’s just as antsy as he is and tires of sitting in bed all day. Some of the elders encourage Kiri to walk around, but she ends up wandering. Yugiri and Az’hala both stick to her like flies, not so much worried about Kiri as they are with Hien. The poor guy. But again, they’re both new to this and have no idea what to expect next. 

I haven’t decided where Kiri ends up giving birth to Hanami. I thought it’d be funny if she was visiting the Steppes when it happened, Sadu’s tribe and Cirina both helping while Hien tries not to pass out. Magnai scoffs but he would probably faint too. 

Actually being parents: 

Now that Hana is born and all of Doma is buzzing with excitement, both Kiri and Hien are over the moon with happiness. They both share the burdens of waking up in the middle of the night to hold a crying Hana, never asking the servants to do it instead. They’re both completely in love with this little bundle. Without question, it’s a tiresome job, but Kiri is rarely without a warm smile these days and Hien is always beaming from ear to ear. He’s very proud of what they created together. 

When Hana gets older, Hien takes to telling her stories at night. He uses funny voices and puts on a whole drama for his daughter who claps and giggles in response. Kiri and Hana spend a lot of time together outside, usually occupying the garden, feeding any ducks or koi in the pond and watching the blossoms open and fall in the breeze. As a mother, Kiri is very soft and tender to Hana, some of her Eorzean friends might not even recognize her. The gruff, accented voice she once had has kind of fallen away, but her laughter remains the same. And her love of jokes. 

If Hien leaves for an Alliance meeting, upon return Hana is always the first to greet him. It starts off as little sandals clapping against the stone, then a little giggling girl jumps at her father. Hien drops everything just to scoop her up in his arms and raise her up high. She’ll ask if he brought her back anything, namely sweets, and of course he does. While Kiri remains in contact with her Eorzean friends and allies, Scions included, she doesn’t partake in adventures quite as frequently as she used to. She stays with Hana and Hien in Doma; and when Hana is a non-stop talking toddler, Kiri and Hien are expecting again. 

Hana and Hien frequently speak in Doman to one another, even in Kiri’s presence just to tease her. 

Occasionally Kiri will take Hana to Eorzea with Isho as their escort; Hana quickly falls in love with traveling and wants to explore the world just as Kiri does. Hana loves meeting with Tataru and Krile, having tea together and gossiping. While in Isghard, Hana and Count Edmont talk for hours over more tea and hard little biscuits. Kiri has always explained to Hana that although her friends are not related by blood, every one of them feel like family to her and she hopes Hana will experience the joys of having such an extensive family. 

Kiri and Hien end up having four kids in total. Hanami is the oldest and only daughter. (Unless I change my mind :V) 

Thancred, Urianger, and Y’shtola have bets on how many children Kiri and Hien will have. So far Y’shtola is winning. Urianger secretly wonders if Hien and Kiri are trying to create an army. Ryne would absolutely love to meet Hanami some day! Alphinaud and Alisaie are still in shock that Kiri even had children to begin with, but also treat Hanami as another part of their little family. 

[fistsoflightning]

and then there was two.

there will always be someone who is completely, wholly unsaveable.

        gatheredfates’ [30 day WOL challenge] | prompt: salvation

even before zaya met the newest reincarnation of minfilia, part of them knew it wouldn’t be who they were expecting.

minfilia—the first minfilia, the one who kept this world living for two centuries longer than it should, started a cycle of new minfilias that inevitably dashed their lives against the horde of sin eaters because her self-sacrificing, bleeding, golden heart would never be dimmed by something as simple as time and new life—had been dead for a very long time. even before those two centuries lost to halting the flood. she may have died in the sil’dih aqueducts to save what warriors of light she could, but to zaya she died the moment they drank firebrand poison and wine while toasting to a naive new ul’dah.

the memory of her haunts both of them in the worst ways, the two of them cursed to be in pain just by being touched by minfilia back before she was a leader and icon and a banner to rally under; hells, that selfsame memory nearly got both thancred and zaya killed, back when they were out for someone to blame for all the regrets wadded into the hole in their chests that losing her made standing by the cliffside outside of idyllshire.

but she will always, always be right over zaya’s shoulder no matter what, so they try their best to separate the minfilia living inside their head and the minfilia standing right in front of them; in this world, minfilia is more than a decade younger than her, more a daughter than a sibling and deserving of so much more than what zaya can give her. it’s going through the motions but with only half the heart behind them; half-moon smiles, quiet adventures in il mheg, laughs that are less than their usual thunderous quality. their heart has been bleeding for far too long to remember how they even managed to comfort lunya, sirius, and valdis in those humble beginnings in pearl lane, wound deepened by missing friends and another war.

zaya may have been one of many warriors of light, but minfilia was the leader of the scions, the one who remembered thancred and zaya from before the calamity split their memories into two, the one who persevered through countless duties and pains to make sure the world at large would be safer, if even by just a fraction. 

and even in death, she leaves both zaya and thancred on their knees when the child whose name is only minfilia because it fulfills the populace’s need for heroes and legends and lights at the ends of countless tunnels says:

“i wish they’d just say it—just say that they hate me! i can see it thancred’s eyes, in zaya’s smiles—that they wish i was dead so she could return…”

…

there will always be another version of them hiding behind the topmost layer, and zaya finds that the newest one is quieter. more akin to brooding than to escaping or confronting, more like the state they were in after fighting zenos back in ghimlyt dark. they thought they’d shaken this version of themselves off, stored it in the back of their mind.

and yet here it is, with all the dreadful penchant for reminiscence they could ever want.

someone in their motley crew of heroes suggests they take a night of rest before facing a trolley ride one might not return from—honestly, zaya wouldn’t be surprised if it were lunya or hanami who asked (more like demanded), hoping to get them (or thancred) to say something, anything—and by the dirty looks lunya gives both of them before retreating to her sleeping bag, thancred hasn’t done anything either.

“i can’t believe either of you right now. idiots, the both of you.” lunya hisses as she rolls out her bedroll next to hanami’s, and zaya silently agrees before slinking out of the small room all of them have been spared to sleep in for a few short bells.

even in spite of the light festering under their skin, eating away at the font of lightning at the center of their soul and sapping their energy. zaya is too tired to sleep. too awake, too aware to sort through everything, and too in pain from the swell of their heart beneath their skin to choke out the words i’m sorry in some worthless attempt to make up for faults that have been lying below the surface of their skin for years.

so instead of retreating to the shed thaffe and jeryk cleared for them to sleep in, away from the endless light, they climb up to the tallest cliff, sit at the edge, and stare blankly into the orange sands of amh araeng. waiting, observing, taking in the endless weight of a dying world and drowning in it to see if they can even possibly measure up to what little minfilia feels when the people of the crystarium call her oracle, a beacon, a living legend.

even if zaya was fourteen again and filled with the anger at their own family they’d dispensed a while back, they don’t think the sheer rage of being shunned would match up to the despair of not just feeling, but knowing two people who are supposed to be your guardians detest you. zaya couldn’t dare to pretend they knew the pain minfilia was going through. hells, they barely knew themselves; understanding others was beyond them.

so they don’t, and instead of dwelling on the things they cannot understand, they focus on meditating—familiar, comforting, simple. close your eyes, breathe in deep, count to ten, exhale, repeat until your thoughts are calm instead of thunderous. 

and, inevitably, in the quiet lull of the thunderstorms inside their head, their thoughts wander to the minfilia they knew—the one that yet lives inside their head.

she might be two summers their elder, but zaya can’t help but think of her as younger, even when they met in the goldsmith’s guild all those years ago—she a miner with a gift and an almost-brother and they a goldsmith with nothing left to lose. even now, with her eyes stolen away by the crystalline blue of hydaelyn, zaya can remember the warm grey from before she was a mouthpiece for this god all of them were bound to, and wonders why.

why take her? why someone so dedicated, so optimistic, so many things left to do and say? why make her a mouthpiece instead of giving the mercy of not seeing your friends and almost-family suffer at the sight of you? why can’t zaya save the first woman they thought of as my sister since leaving the steppe?

i promise i won’t hurt you, they said once upon a time to a girl afraid of them because of their legacy as the ‘bolt from the blue’, coliseum menace and one of few to face off against ‘raging bull’ raubahn aldynn and survive the encounter. i promise.

why were they calling themselves a hero—or worse, minfilia’s friend if they couldn’t extend, couldn’t keep that promise with a girl that carries minfilia’s legacy?

zaya opens their eyes to the expanse of orange sands once again, entirely drained and wanting to go back to a time before… everything. they can’t come up with an answer before sati comes out from the bushes and sits beside them, laying her hand over theirs in a solidarity zaya hasn’t seen from her in years—not since she was small enough to not see above their waist and living under both dorbei’s and their care.

“are you…” sati trails off, her voice murky, like zaya is underwater and hasn’t surfaced in a long, long time. “no. i’m… i’ll just sit here, ‘kay? not gonna leave you here.” her voice is the firmest it’s been in years, more confident in her decision than ever before, and zaya doesn’t fight it. they don’t fight reese or rjoli’s pitying stares, ihget’sae’s worried glance from the corner of the room, hanami’s angry tail whips, or lunya’s frustrated silence when they walk back into the shed, either. they don’t rest much either, instead pulling out their journal and flipping to the page where thancred had jokingly wrote some poetry over five years ago, before everything crumbled and their ul’dahn trio fell to two, fingertips running over the words—

but i have promises to keep, and miles to go before i sleep, and miles to go before i sleep.

…

zaya quietly walks over to minfilia as thancred and urianger do some final checks to their equipment and the talos, not really knowing where their fellow warriors are but knowing they don’t have long before they leave. their stomach churns, empty and hollow, but filled with imaginary butterflies instead; the kind that accompanies both their feelings for thancred and the dread of arguments.

“minfilia?” they say as clearly as possible, voice still cracking from the dryness of amh araeng and the struggle of learning to speak after decades of hardly opening their mouth. “c’n we talk?”

she sniffles, nodding her head, and zaya scoops up both of her hands into theirs, quietly turning her to face them and oh, her eyes are still red and teary, she’s still not handling this well. the urge to just pull her into a hug and never let go is overwhelming, but what she needs is not a pat to the head, not a simple hug, not just loving words and a sincere apology but all of the above.

if only thancred could pull his guts together to join them.

“heard you an’ urianger yesterday,” zaya says soothingly, tightening their grip over minfilia’s small hands only when fear seeps into her expression. “and ‘m so, so sorry i can’t love you the way you need me to.”

minfilia practically stumbles over her words, quietly tugging her hands further and further from zaya’s grasp and oh gods zaya really hopes they aren’t hurting her, quickly letting go when she tugs next. “i—no, it’s fine, i promise! yesterday was just—”

“no, y’u were…” it’d be too cruel to say that she was wrong; too cruel to say that both of them truly wanted the best for her, didn’t hate her in misguided parts when thancred said nothing at all and zaya couldn’t find the right things to tell her, but it was easier, if needed. then again, zaya had never been one for the path of least resistance. “you were right, but not about one thing; we… we both hate ourselves.”

she looks utterly shocked at the idea, but zaya pushes forward and tells the tale of how they and thancred almost didn’t live to see norvrandt; how they pushed each others’ buttons until he cracked first, how they both tortured themselves over the mess that was that age-old escape from ul’dah and how minfilia’s legacy has haunted them for longer before they knew her… with many, many changes. it isn’t a ballad, nor a fairytale, but it is the truth, and it is what she deserves to know about her guardian and her ally.

“you… you two…?” she mumbles, eyes wide and less teary than before. good. “but—you two are practically—when we were in dhon mheg, and the ravel, and the temple, you two were inseparable.”

zaya feels like that is a gross exaggeration—they can stand not knowing how thancred is doing for a few minutes—but continues anyways. “not always. we’re a lil’ stupi’ now, b’t we were worse ‘fore this.”

“i don’ wanna be forgiven,” they say, quietly; a secret that very few know and even fewer try to remember. “i don’ deserve to, an’ neither does thancred. but…” they pull her closer, wrapping their arms around her back and hugging her tight, as if she might suddenly disappear from zaya’s life like minfilia did all those years ago before they could tell her how incredibly glad they were to know her. “i wanna try again—do better, f’r you, if you let me.”

minfilia, for all her strength, doesn’t respond—not speechless, but occupied. her tears drip, drip, drip down zaya’s back, the blue overcoat they normally wear tied around their waist to reveal their (rather ragged) white tanktop. when she does catch her breath for long enough in gaps between her silent sorrow, she pulls her arms away from zaya’s chest to wrap around their neck instead, burying her face into their shoulders.

“i… i don’t know, yet,” she says truthfully, and zaya is glad thancred told her about the whole lying versus harsh truth thing they’ve always had a hard time explaining themselves. “can i tell you when we get back?”

when we get back, zaya thinks, sifting through the words in their head. she was always more earnest around them, or lunya, or any of their small crew that wasn’t thancred, really, but in her words she promises, not tries to promise. we.

“o’ course,” zaya promises back, because it’s the least they can do. they have a lot of promises to keep, they realize shortly after opening their mouth, but it feels… good. “always.”

...

the trolley crashes—because yet again, nothing is ever easy for the warriors of darkness, is it?—zaya’s horn is cracked from falling onto a very big rock, ran’jit is soaked in the memories of an old, different minfilia and then betrayed by the newest minfilia, and thancred stays behind. zaya prays it’s not because he fears what he might say to the old minfilia but because he’s had decades to learn that sometimes actions speak as loud as words do from learning zaya’s story until it was burned into his memory, fingers calloused and burnt from learning a storm made incarnate inside out, and he’s finally decided to use that knowledge instead of keeping it boxed in his chest. their head is utterly throbbing as they run ahead of lunya, lightning running through their blood faster than ever before because what if they lose not one but two on this journey, what if thancred has finally bit off more than he can chew, what if it’s like ul’dah all over again—

“zaya!” ihget’sae barks out in worry, even if his voice is more angry than it is soothing, and it hurts so much more than they thought it would to listen. “slow down!”

they stop, then, if only because the sickening feeling of bile rising up their throat from the pain is new, different, horrible. minfilia—who looks worriedly at them as she passes—keeps running ahead, and only when hanami and sati catch up to all of them does zaya start their desperate sprint again.

when the light-seared sky makes hanami’s aurum regis horn glint menacingly, zaya clutches at their own horn tighter. the crack feels bigger than it should, but it—their horn—doesn’t matter. if the price to pay for norvrandt’s salvation was their horn and the pain sure to follow, they’d pay it gladly. they’ve survived worse than a loss of balance; even if it did mess up their ability to fight with their fists, it would be a equal exchange for a world.

one life for one world, urianger’s voice rings from memory, except this time he had no say in the sacrifice. 

good, a more bitter part of them responds. the pure rancor from the voice inside their head sings of something abyssal, something they usually bury under lightning and fire and earth, but it sings truer than most of zaya’s scattered thoughts, as of late. as it should be.

zaya keeps running.

and when they finally make it to the fallen palace of nabaath areng and get dragged through a centuries-old memory of ardbert, minfilia, the warriors of darkness before them, and the flood, zaya is left on their knees by minfilia for the second and final time.

“ours is a meeting long overdue,” the word says to the oracle, not even waiting for the warriors surrounding little minfilia to regain their bearings. “full glad am i that we may finally speak.”

zaya remains sitting on the liquid crystal floor as lunya, hanami, sati—everyone but them gets up to look minfilia—the word of the mother minfilia—eye to eye, instead staring at the light bleeding and blurring her figure like some runny painting in a tarnished storybook left out in the rain. maybe it’s the tears stinging at the corners of zaya’s vision, but she looks… tired. tired of waiting, tired of watching, tired of perpetuating a cycle of pain and suffering that is going to end, one way or another, now.

and suddenly, they have one answer to thousands of whys. minfilia cannot be saved, they think, because she is like you. determined. blessed. chosen. (cursed.)

so when the word—minfilia looks to them longingly, zaya does not say how they wish she was still alive, how they wish they could show her what they can accomplish now. instead, zaya foolishly says, “t’hncred says ‘ello,” and keeps their mouth shut for the rest of the short visit to some realm where the gold of both minfilias’ hair bleeds into the light-soaked scenery, their saved tears quietly hidden behind untied hair and long bangs.

they think they might make it from this conversation relatively whole, watching quietly and contentedly as the two daughters of hydaelyn speak their minds with them as the witnesses. the almost do, and then minfilia whispers “i am truly sorry, friend. i love you.” and zaya’s heart is undone.

…

they don’t wake up with everyone else at the foot of nabaath areng, after minfilia disappears for good and after the waking memories of ardbert being refused his sacrifice.

instead, zaya wakes to their hair untied, thancred’s (torn, bloodied, stained) coat thrown over them, and a girl with grey eyes and terra-cotta hair looking surprised to see them awake. not a few seconds later does zaya sit up, head reeling as they look around to see the scions sitting just a little bit over three yalms away

“zaya,” she exhales tiredly. “you’re awake. lunya thought—” she points to their right horn, not daring to touch the ridges. “—the wound you were hiding here was more serious than just knocking you unconscious, seeing as it… well.”

they reach up to touch where the crack was, fingertips shaky and scratched up beyond all belief and find the smooth surface that only accompanied crystal, and from the slight thrum in their horn from the touch…

“thancred says it’s lightning crystal, or some gemstone attuned to your aether.” the girl carefully presses a mirror—dusty, old, slightly cracked—into their hands. “i, er. i don’t quite understand it all, but… when she—minfilia, that is—brought us back to nabaath areng, my appearance and your horn were already like this.”

zaya lifts the mirror to their face, and oh—the crack on their horn is filled with small slivers of gleaming gemstone; blue topaz, which explains the weird, sharp, clear and crisp tones to all of the sounds zaya’s can hear. it’s almost too similar to the exarch’s situation, what with the crystal marking his face and arm, but hells, they’re surprised they can hear at all with the gemstone filling the gaps between rough bone. gemstones aren’t crystal, after all.

but zaya has more pressing matters to attend to than figuring out the logistics of filling in a fracture with a non-organic material; besides, it’s not like their horn will be going anywhere.

“who are you?” zaya asks as the chatter from the scions and warriors die down.

“i—” the small girl with the weight of a two century long legacy in her hands and every last one of them standing by her side pauses, a small glimmer of hope crossing her eyes like a thunderbolt as she looks at them carefully. they both know what zaya asked wasn’t from amnesia, but of something else. “my name… is ryne.”

firefly, zaya quickly signs, and thancred inhales sharply from three yalms away even as ryne tilts her head in confusion. he knew nearly every sign in the book; it wasn’t surprising he’d catch them giving ryne a gift of their own. it’s the closest to saying i love you so, so much without saying it at all, because words wouldn’t possibly fit i’m sorry, are you alright, and can i try again all in six words.

“means firefly,” they clarify for ryne when she looks back at thancred, confusion turning into worry. “your new namesign, if you want? can’t keep callin’ y’u minfilia.”

“...i would like that very much,” ryne says, smiling and trying to keep a few tears from building at the corners of her eyes, and in that very moment—then there were two of an old friendship left behind, the shadow of minfilia finally lifting from zaya’s shoulder as ryne’s smile brought zaya’s heart back; salvation.

[efrmellifer]

The Widow AU, Part Two

warning for: still talking about death

After days of held breaths, of stoking fires, of combing her hair for her and consulting with chirurgeons, Etien’s eyes opened.

She tried to sit up, and was gently held down before she could. “Stay down,” Artoirel told her. “You’ve been out cold for days. And I do mean cold. You were discovered by Providence Point, passed out in the snow. What were you doing out there?”

She blinked for a moment, squinting slightly. Then it hit her, and she gasped. “The graves there. You know, you can see Ishgard so clearly from that overlook. It’s like they’re watching over all of us forever now. For whatever comfort that can give me. Give us.”

Artoirel hummed. She still sounded pretty bad, throat still evidently raw. “You still need rest. I will return in a little while to see if you need anything else.”

_

While she accepted the tea they brought her, sipped daintily at broths she was offered, Etien stayed in bed for more days following, never leaving the room.

They worried— of course they worried, when they’d seen Etien horridly sad over smaller losses— but they knew they had to let her go through this. The weight, the fate, of the world was going to be laid on her shoulders again soon enough. If she wasn’t as healed as she could be from this, she was going to collapse under it. Etien had the power to take the world down with her grief, and they didn’t want that for her. Or anyone.

So they left her alone to mourn, and Fury willing, to heal.

Well, until they had a visitor come calling when he heard she was back in Ishgard.

“Estinien,” Artoirel greeted him when he had come into the foyer of the home.

“Lord Artoirel,” he responded evenly.

“I assume you came to see Etien?”

“If she’ll have me.”

Lightly, Artoirel laughed. “How many times have you said that?”

“Twice, maybe three times now. And yet, that’s more than I care to count.”

He was led through the house, to Etien’s room. They knocked, and hearing nothing, cracked open the door.

“She may be asleep,” Artoirel explained. “She has been sleeping a lot. She needs the rest, though, after being found halfway to dead in the highlands.”

But her sleeping form was not what they saw in the sliver of light coming through the door.

Her ears lifted a little, though they hadn’t been properly perked in what felt like weeks now. They still weren’t. “H-h’lo?” She called into the air.

Estinien didn’t say anything, just stepped through the doorway and into the room. He was still silent as he slid under the covers behind her, looping his arms around her. For a while he kept it up, until he sighed out an “Etien” roughened by sorrow.

She turned in his arms, so she could bury her face in his chest. “I can only imagine how you must be hurting,” she lamented, “loving him longer than I did.”

He held her a little tighter, a little more securely. “Longer, mayhap. But I didn’t love him like you did. No one could.”

Artoirel smiled just a little, seeing that Etien had at least relaxed a little, now that Estinien was with her. He left them alone, letting the door swing shut.

Neither Etien nor Estinien spoke again for a long time. Etien just cried, and Estinien held onto her, watching the weak sunlight move across the floor, smelling her lavender soap much more faintly than usual.

They didn’t speak, because what was there to say? Etien had always said being away from Aymeric was like living without a limb. Well, now she wasn’t just without it. It had been blown off her, painful and devastating. Estinien couldn’t even imagine what it must have been like to come home, fully expecting to find rest and ease in the familiar arms she’d been missing, and instead, being told she would never be in his embrace again.

And Estinien himself had been working through the pain since the news had reached him. He knew that Etien knew the story, and that was why she thought his hurt must have been so much bigger than hers. A brother at arms turned lover, the pair spending years of their lives together, leaving an ache when that time was suddenly up.

It was then that the fullness of the phrase “until death do us part”— a vow he and Aymeric hadn’t explicitly made to each other— settled over Estinien.

That was why Estinien said that neither his nor Etien’s pains were larger. They had both come face-to-face with this inevitability, still bearing their distinct loves for him. Hers, eclipsing the pasts she and Aymeric had survived—had been forged by—and laying bricks for a shared future, and the future of Ishgard. And Estinien’s—he didn’t even really have words for it. It had never been entirely new, just present and accepted one day as they navigated their lives.

Neither pain was greater, and as far as Estinien was concerned, he and Etien had each other to help bear both. This wasn’t a competition. It was a common ground.

They understood. So they didn’t speak. Estinien wasn’t good at being comforting, anyway. He just made quiet shushing noises and patted Etien’s back.

_

Nothing was perfect, nothing had a chance at ever being perfect now, but that night, Etien came out of her room to eat.

Every other bite was punctuated with a sniffle, but she was eating. Her eyes were puffy, but they were open. She didn’t have back her voice that could belt chorales of courage, but she could say that yes, she was comfortable and yes, the food was all right.

Quietly, House Fortemps rejoiced. Their daughter, their sister, their hero, may well thrive yet. The world had no need to fear, she was going to rise from these ashes.

But slowly. Just because she had taken one step forward didn’t mean she was all better.

That night, they retired to the sitting room and she laid on the couch with her head in Edmont’s lap, as if she were a child, as tears still slowly leaked from her eyes.

“Are you ready to talk?” he asked softly.

She nodded. “There’s so much we never got the chance to do,” she said, voice already wavering. “I had intended to take him through the Black Shroud, picnicking in Gridania. There was this perfect spot just inside the Blue Badger gate, overlooking the water behind the Carline Canopy.” She let out a long sigh. “I was going to tell him that I was finally ready to have children.” A single breathy sob shook her body for a moment. “And now look at me. I’m a widow before I even turned twenty-six. Destined to be a childless weapon of the star. Does- does Hydaelyn hate me? She calls me her beloved daughter, but it seems she punishes me for every slight mistake. Or for no reason.”

Edmont’s hand glid over Etien’s hair, not sure how deep he should allow his fingers to delve, and trying not to touch her ears. “Hydaelyn is fickle, it seems,” he said in an attempt to be reassuring, though he had no idea if he was correct. “But know that I, who call you my daughter as well, will take better care of you than that.”

She sniffled. “Thank you.” She sat up, looking around. “Did my things come back from the Congregation?”

Edmont nodded. “Artoirel made sure your belongings were brought here. Shall we fetch them?”

“Just my knitting, please,” she said, relaxing into a comfortable position seated on the couch.

“Do you not want to rest?”

“I’ve been doing too much sleeping,” she replied, rifling through her bag, now that it was brought to her. She pulled out the mass of yarn and the needles, immediately setting to work.

She switched both needles to one hand every so often to wipe her eyes, but other than that and a tiny sigh every so often, it seemed the worst of the immediate reaction was over.

When she went to bed that night, she felt the emptiness of the space next to her acutely, but curled tighter around the blue cloth that had accompanied on every adventure since she’d left for Gyr Abania, she could pretend she was just sleeping in an inn bed in some distant land.

Well, if she weren’t so honest. But it did soothe her enough to let her get some sleep.

_

When the light of dawn started streaming into the room, she woke up and stretched, forgetting herself for a moment and rolling over to find… the wall. She got up and went back to knitting, beginning a plan for a different blanket than the one she had planned to make at first. She was going to need different yarn, but this square that she was knitting a heart into? It could stay.

She had finished that particular square, admiring it and feeling the beginning of tears as she thought about the love she still felt welling up with nowhere to put it now, and when she thought about how she used to knit—curled up on the loveseat, feet tucked under her, Aymeric holding the yarn for her.

But then she heard a knock at the door.

She looked up when she heard footsteps coming down the hall toward her room after that, quickly finger-combing her hair so she looked somewhere closer to presentable.

She was surprised to find the Leveilleurs making their ways into her room, but she opened her arms for them anyway, trying not to let the tears fall as they both began offering effusive condolences.

Over the course of the day, all the Scions had arrived at Fortemps Manor to pay her a visit—Alisaie and Alphinaud stayed at her side all day as she knitted and received first Y’shtola, then Tataru, followed by Urianger, and finally Thancred.

All of them had plenty of words for her, of sympathy and comfort alike. Tataru came bearing an exquisite outfit, one suited for giving a better goodbye to the husband she had loved so much she had saved a nation for him.

She held the garments in her hands, thinking mostly about how Tataru had constructed that gorgeous wedding dress for her such a short time ago, and now had made Etien her first mourning attire. But it, too, was beautiful. All she could say was a breathless, tearful “thank you.”

She changed into it while Thancred made a trip to the Jeweled Crozier, and when everyone had reconvened (and Etien was properly dressed to go out into the weather), all of them made the trip to Providence Point again.

When they arrived, she sank to her knees again, this time whispering a prayer, then a few words of her own choosing. Telling him how much she already missed him, how she would take care of Ishgard for him. That she hoped he would be waiting for her at the end of it all with open arms, like always.

Like she had last time, she kissed the headstone, and then, when she was starting to rise, Thancred handed her what he had gone to buy before—a bouquet of lavender and snowdrops, tied with a royal blue ribbon.

Her eyes welled as she took the flowers, mouthing a “thank you,” then laying them on the snow with all the love and reverence she could imbue into her motions.

And then, they headed home.

“What will you do now?” Y’shtola asked. “Will you stay here with the Fortemps family as you had been?”

Etien took a deep breath, clearing her throat. “I… I am the Lady Borel. That’s my house. And it’s my home. I might stay here for a few nights more, but I need to go home. Though… you’re all free to visit. It’s going to be a little empty otherwise.”

“We’ll be there,” Y’shtola assured her, touching her hand gently. “As long as you’ll have us.”

For the first time since that grimace she’d given Lucia, Etien smiled.