#The Garlean Knight

[captainqster]

[voidsentprinces]

Reminder: A Realm Reborn wasn't particularly about us. It was about the Eorzean Factions, it was about the Scions of the Seventh Dawn and their interactions with and thwarting Gaius and the XIVth Legion. We were just a useful champion slowly growing to fame but not truly a Warrior of Light until literally the prelude to the Castrum raiding mission.

The Parting of Glass wasn't about us either. It was, once again, about the world. And how it had begun changing after Gaius's fall and the brief period of peace away from Garlemald's Shadow. About Alphinaud beginning his arc of growth with hubris and the creation the Crystal Braves and what it might of looked like IF the Scion's good nature was lent to anyone and everyone. And thus opening itself up to the very corruption Minfilia feared to move away from the Waking Sands and to the Rising Stones in the first place.

Heavensward isn't about us. It is about Alphinaud's continue growth, learning of Ishgard's past and history. Hubris, arrogance and narrow viewing lead Alphinaud to steps of the Foundation, it has lead Estinien astray and made Ysayle believe she is a messiah incarnate. And through the journey, each of them grow as they learn the terrible truth about the Dragonsong War. Estinien in particular has his eyes opened and no longer simply seeks revenge on Nidhogg but to get to the bottom of it all. So no other shepherd's son has to live as he has. Ysayle learns she is a shade and a faux Shiva not truly Hraesvelgr's beloved or even in the same category as her. She learns swallow such delusions and embrace what Saint Shiva stood for in its entirety. Which means leaning to lay the road for peace between Ishgard and the Dragons and opening a path to this by sacrificing herself for those she loved so dearly. Alphinaud learns from all of this and more and is humbled by the duty of a knight, the fervor of a dragoon, the sacrifice of a saint, and the courage of his companions and of Sharlayan's arrogance from Master Matoya. To put others before himself and allow others to support him when he falls.

The Far Edge of Fate isn't about us. It was about how Ishgard carries on after Thordan and the Heavens Ward are shown to be the monsters they are. How the remnants of the church, the knights of Ishgard, and the civilian population react to the realization with rejection. How facing off against Nidhogg possessing Estinien, the Warriors of Darkness, and the machinations of Ilberd force Eorzea and Ishgard to look inward and know truly where they should go from there. To ignore the easier road and take the higher path no matter the strife and hardship it provides them. Because when they reach the otherside they would be better for it. Finding that courage, after five years of procrastinating and hemming and hawing, the Eorzean Alliance finally begin to mobilize to free Ala Mhigo from Garlemald and perhaps take on the Empire itself.

Stormblood isn't about us. It is about Doma and Ala Mhigo fighting for the survival of their people and cultures. Facing the parts of their society that were spurned and used as tools of hatred against their principles. That provided the necessary cracks required for Garlemald to break them down and oppress them in the first place. And how reforging under those values and those long histories of violence can make a new path and come to terms to over throw the tyrants who fed on their weakened states and make a strong unity still.

A Requiem of Heroes wasn't about us, it was about the world facing down the barrel of war with Garlemald. And uncovering its origins, its founding father was an Ascian. How Varis is forced to face down the lie as Elidibus wears the skin of his son and the great grandfather he and other Garleans were taught was a walking god in all but name was a sham and a daemon bent on causing more pain and suffering than mankind ever deserved. How the effigies of hate and pain choose to use their fervor to help their people instead of turning against them once more. How every person can change and be given a second chance. How that second chance is what that person requires or if they are pushed the wrong direction, can caused tragedy to unfold. And lastly, it is about our companions, slowly. One by one. Being dragged to the unknown. The story slowly taking away the players on the stage until finally...

Shadowbringers was about us. It was about how we were instrumental to the world so much that it lost nearly all hope in another timeline. How a group of your fondest friends began and how your comrade's furthest decendents acting on the hope of your legend and stories. To provide a plan of action and lead to happier world. How even when everything seems lost and gone and your purpose seems to turned everything around you into twisted monstrosities. That you can bring the night and wait in comfort for a dawn to bring better days. And the tenacity of your aid providing a world on the brink, the love, the compassion, the understanding, the strength, and the will to stand up to a flood of destruction and spit fate in the eye. Even it costs them everything, they keep fighting until they can see a brighter tomorrow.

Death unto Dawn was about what the tomorrow brings. How it could be another fight but to find what is WORTH fighting for. The memories of those you fight and lived amongst, old studies and things of the past being made to provide the answer to the future, making right wrongs even against those you had wronged unfairly, and to gather together and keep each other safe. You are not alone out here. There are those who will help you along to a brighter future.

Endwalker was about you and yours. About how everyone reacts to an uncertain future in different manners. How some would make ready to flee at the approaching storm, while others would fight, and others might even push you further to the edge. But even when all is lost, call upon the memory of happier times to light the way with hearts aligned shining brilliantly against despair and finding your place amongst those memories.

Growing Light was about us teaching another to hear, feel, and think and experience the world seemingly gone. That everything needn't be give or take. It can be a charitable, warmer place if we make it. It can be kinder and even in the face of unrelenting and undying destruction. Hope will spit out a tooth and stand up once more.

I say all of this because, I've seen people mad that Dawntrail is leaning hard about being about Wuk Lamat and others. To which I say so what if Dawntrail is about Wuk Lamat and Koana? So what if its not about us? We've had four story lines about us. Now we must impart what we've learned to the future as they face similar and sometimes overwhelming odds. To stand tall against the onslaught and make their own choices, their own way to bring a smile to all they hold dear. How family needn't be blood related, they can just be a group who sit down at the table at the end of the day. And speak, laugh, cry, and love. Unto this trail to dawn we shall light way for the future of our world and everything this new dawn brings is worth it.

[viiioca]

[ day 11 - thirst ]

I ought to be flattered. Truly.

When I was younger, I recall getting a glance at Perette's personal ledger book; separate from the house's business dealings, this was where she tallied family matters specifically. Verain's prestigious boarding school, trips to the country estate, money set aside in trust for eventual grandchildren -- the sort of thing that might cause strife if too many eyes fell on it and felt the numbers were misapportioned. Indeed, I spied my dowry and thought for a moment I might require reading glasses. Such a princely sum! I was flattered then, too, for a brief moment. I must be valuable, no? I must be so valuable that Perette, with her iron grip on the House's accounts, would be willing to part with so much. Verain would have pitched a fit to see it.

Folly to believe it, of course. I grew older, and the dowry went unclaimed, and I came to realize that it was not a matter of value. It was a taunt. Perette did so enjoy breaking taboo; if there was an opportunity to spit in an eye that would not seem unladylike, she would seize it with tremendous satisfaction. Here, she has her prized lowborn orphan -- a mixed blood mongrel -- and in Ishgard, where station is so bound by blood that even the High Houses' hands are tied, there are none who would risk the ignominy of dirtying the pool, as it were. She was certainly not desperate to hand me off, nor was House Laussienne particularly hurting for alliances that a marriage could secure. She simply saw an opportunity to make a statement. She looked at all the waning lower houses, the ones in danger of losing their titles in a generation or two, and said to them: all your family's salvation will cost you is your pride. Any willing to rebel against precious tradition will find a bounty waiting for them, and you will not take it, because you are cowards.

There is some distant part of me that can appreciate a brazen gesture. In the art of the tactful insult, Perette was a rare talent.

Of course, it is only after I have given up on my home, left, and returned that I have found conditions have changed. How charming it is to have admirers -- with no financial incentive, at that! I spent so many years diligently molding myself into the definition of a perfectly proper lady, but it turns out that such efforts were wasted. All that was required of me to be seen as a worthy daughter of Ishgard in the end was to move heaven and earth. Simple! I shall go among my lowborn brothers and sisters and tell them this: all that is required of you are acts of such heroic magnitude that, were you a Temple Knight, they would struggle to find room to pin all the medals on your dress blues. Go kill a sum of dragons. Prise the Garleans out of their entrenched position in our ceruleum fields like a barber-surgeon pulls a rotten tooth. Kill a famed Legatus. And don't stop there while you have momentum. Kill the beastmen's gods while you're at it. Form the van during a historic attack on our own holy Steps of Faith. Done properly and you too shall be worthy of Ishgard's most well-connected bastards. You too will be allowed to take your meals at the high table -- this and no more.

I am being uncharitable to Haurchefant. I know this. He is a good man and it is not fair that I would spurn him for matters outside of his immediate control. But what was done to me -- what is done to those like me -- was not fair either, and the result is that no one will get what they want. If love were nourishment, we are all of us starvelings dying of hunger and thirst. We are all of us doomed to look for love in its negative spaces; to understand its shape not by where it is, but only by where it isn't.

[catwhoisawizard]

Hello gposers of Tumblr!

I would like to get to know you all better and get more involved in the FFXIV community here on tumblr! My particular blend of brain weirdnesses make it difficult to be consistent about making gposes myself, but I do it when I can. I haven't made any recently because I've been on a bit of a hiatus from the game for personal reasons, but I want to share some of my older shots as a start!

So without further ado, here's a short introduction to my current cast of characters! Please feel free to leave comments or send asks with questions about them!

Name: Zhera Anki

Age: 35 (as of DT)

Gender/Pronouns: Cis female, she/her

Orientation: Polyam Lesbian

Canon combat jobs: SCH/WHM/SMN

Canon non-combat jobs: BTN/CUL/ALC

Homeland: Limsa Lominsa (raised there), Ala Mhigo (born there)

Notes: Mixed race Keeper/Seeker. Her Keeper family is descended from survivors of Amdapor. Her Seeker father was a member of the Fist of Rhalgr. She is autistic and has utilized her hyperfixations and special interests to learn multiple difficult skills quickly. Buff.

Zhera is a former Storm Captain and veteran of the Primal Wars, the Garlean War, and the Final Days crisis. Now retired, she became an Archon (her specialty is aetherology and Allagan Summoning) and now spends her time raising her adopted child Hhemetso and working as a freelance botanist. She is close friends with her worldline's WoL, but played a secondary role in most of the events of the MSQ.

Name: Retha Othan

Age: 84

Gender/Pronouns: Trans female, she/her

Orientation: Polyam Pansexual

Canon combat jobs: RDM/SGE/WAR

Canon non-combat jobs: ALC

Homeland: Tenth Shard

Notes: Was AMAB, but learned alchemy and transitioned by using transformative potions similar to Fantasias that she made herself, and continued to make them to help others transition. Was an Archmage of the Red in her prime, but an injury caused her to lose the ability to use magic, and she didn't get it back until getting her new body in the Source. Was happily married to a man named Tavel and had multiple children and many grandchildren.

Retha is Zhera's reflection from the Tenth Shard. She was her world's primary WoL and saved it several times over, but living a hard life eventually caught up to her in her old age, leaving her frail and unable to help when the Ascians made their final move to Rejoin her Shard. She escaped by volunteering for a desperate last minute plan to use experimental magic to send someone's soul to another Shard in the hopes of bringing back help. The transfer succeeded and she found herself sharing a body with Zhera, her counterpart in the Source, only to learn that she was too late: due to unexpected temporal weirdness in the Rift, she had arrived 1500 years after her Shard was already gone. She has since gained her own body and is now building a new life in her new home.

Name: Kjet Anki

Age: 143

Gender/Pronouns: Non-binary, he/him

Orientation: Asexual

Canon combat jobs: WHM/BLM/MNK

Canon non-combat jobs: BTN

Homeland: Hingashi/Gridania

Notes: He is a Viqo'te, as his other mother was a Viera. He is the reincarnation of Deudalaphon and was forced to take on his predecessor's memories against his will; he developed his time travel spell by adapting techniques used in one of her abandoned experiments. He briefly tried to learn the Dark Knight arts, and his Ascian memories took form and consciousness as his Fray before he accepted them; she is now his headmate, calling herself Hephaestia, the name of the previous Deudalaphon prior to taking the Seat.

Kjet is Zhera's son from a separate timeline than her. In his timeline, Zhera lost the war with her depression when he was about 20 and she gave in to despair. In an act of desperation to fix the world, she summoned a perfected primal using her own soul as it's core. The resultant entity was a fusion of her at her lowest and Ifrit at his strongest, calling itself Zhera Ifrita. Following her mandate to "end war by any means necessary", she started a campaign of political manipulation via tempered thralls and eventually outright conquest to unite the entire world under one state, with herself as something akin to a god-queen preventing war via tempering and draconian social policies. While extremely talented with both White and Black magic, Kjet is ill-suited for violence, and was forced to spend over a century in hiding as he watched the world around him succumb to the monster wearing his mother's identity. Finally, in an act of desperation, he managed to develop a primitive time travel spell and used it to travel back to before Zhera lost her hope, but unintentionally made a split timeline in doing so (the method he used does that to prevent a paradox). He has since started building a new life in this timeline, but the threat from his home timeline is not gone...

[rainofaugustsith]

These lines right here sum up why I feel FFXIV has much more superior, nuanced writing than the Star Wars franchise.

Star Wars has you believe that one side is right regardless of what they do, and the other side is so evil, rotten to the core in every way that their entire people, planets. culture, language, religion - everything - should be permanently erased if they can't be converted to an entirely different culture, language, and creed (And don't get me started on how they conveniently made the Sith alphabet - again considered terrabad - virtually identical to the Hebrew alphabet). It's a very black and white, dogmatic view that IMHO hearkens back to the evangelical belief that only one point of view gets to go to heaven, and if you don't believe that, resist converting and want to hang onto your identity, you're going to hell. And you're certainly going to hell if you point out anything questionable the other side has done.

What you discover in FFXIV is nuance.

Every single job can be used for good; every single job can be used for evil. The heroes of one story are the villains of another. Every heroic gesture comes with a very real price. Nobody is beyond reproach, and that includes the player character. Actions one person takes for the greater good can lead to devastating damage for others.

The "get back to nature" white mages rule a city-state where xenophobia rules the day and the elementals run a reign of terror. White magic executed without proper training can be fatal.

The black mages who congregate in a hall for the gods of the dead have an alliance among the marginalized tribes that spans all three city-states and saves Eorzea from calamity. Black magic executed without proper training can be fatal.

The Dark Knights dedicate themselves to protecting those who need their help, and teach that one's dark side isn't something to vanquish, but something to hear, acknowledge and make peace with.

The Dragoon story shows that one's archenemy can become one's ally - or consume them.

The fearsome reapers who treat with the dead are actually helping the downtrodden.

The community working hard to keep the peace and move forward in a productive way are ex-pirates.

And so on. Nobody is expected to forgive those who have wronged them. Atonement is seen as something that involves work on the part of the perpetrator, not the participation of the survivors. But atonement is there and in several cases characters do better.

Any thoughts that any group in Eorzea needs to be eliminated are eventually dispelled completely. Marginalization of various groups is something that eventually does need to be answered for, and is presented as a problem, not a necessity. When Eorzea finally marches on their nemesis, the Garlean Empire, it is on an aid mission, not conquest. There are no attempts to convert. Just to help.

Both Garlemald in Endwalker and Ziost in SWTOR deal with the issue of murderous possessed people. In SWTOR, the Republic - remember, our "good guys" - response with Saresh is to send an invading army to increase the hurt. In FFXIV, the Alliance's response is to send an army to help, with Scions striking out into the snow and into the smoldering ruins to rescue anyone they can.

If you asked me if I would live anywhere in a Star Wars universe, it would be an emphatic HELL NO. But FFXIV? I feel like they are at least striving for better, with common ground and peaceful co-existence, and everything is nuanced.

[myreia]

❤︎ OC Kiss Week 25 ❤

Hello! 🌹

I've decided that I am going to do OC Kiss Week this year! I am a very beginner artist (started in December, have a lot to learn) and I thought it would be a fun way to learn how to draw more people and characters interacting. I can't promise that anything will look that great, but I want to give it a shot! 🩷

official ockiss info here!

I'll be accepting characters in my ask box from February 2 to February 16. Send in your OC and let me know which one of mine you'd like them to smooch! Little details are helpful too, especially if you prefer romantic or platonic kisses. You can also send a prompt from @ockissweek's list:

• desperate • first • stolen • reunion • worship • forbidden • caught

I am only going to do OCs from FFXIV, Dragon Age or BG3. You do not need to be a mutual or a follower, but please make sure screenshots of your OC are easily findable on your blog so I know what they look like.

❤︎ My Smoochable OCs ❤

❥ Aureia Malathar (FFXIV) half-elezen ✦ 30s ✦ she/her ✦ biromantic asexual ✦ black mage

Aureia is an ex-Garlean agent. She comes off very strong and knows what she wants (except when she doesn't and then it's a mess). She's firm in her beliefs and stands by her opinions, though she is also open-minded and deeply empathetic in her own specific way.

❥ Niam (BG3) Half-Elf ✦ 30s ✦ she/her ✦ biromantic asexual ✦ wild magic sorcerer

Niam grew up on the streets of Baldur's Gate with very little memory of her parents. She's clever and curious, with a tendency to bite off more than she can chew because she wants to find out what happens. Likely to accidentally set things on fire or polymorph her friends into cats and dogs. Also to turn her hair green.

❥ Venara Lavellan (Dragon Age: Inquisition) dalish elf ✦ 28 ✦ she/her ✦ biromantic asexual ✦ knight-enchanter

Venara is generally quiet and reserved, with a keen eye. From the outside she appears a stoic and unapproachable, but once you get to know her she warms up. She cares deeply for her friends and though she likes to keep busy and enjoys her time alone, she always makes time for them. Might have a slight vengeance streak.

Thank you!! This will be fun! 🌹🩷

[greystone-appreciation]

Well, if this sounds interesting to you, might I give this prompt?

Haurchefant witnesses the WoL (Anyone really. This is focused more on jobs. But if you need it: she/her xaela around his age) trounce Ser Grinnaux and Ser Paulecrain in trial by combat as a black mage.

Not just normally beating the knights - outright bombarding them in fire, lightning, and ice without a single word spoken.

And he's only known them as a white mage from all the time they've spent with him. A rather soft-hearted, stubborn one at that.

Wol x Haurchefant is encouraged but not necessary.

Writing Prompt Request | Main Timeline - Haurchefant x WOL (Xaela, she/her) Shipping Requested

The crackle of lightning and the tinge of flame hung in the air like the breath of a dragon, the battle room’s atmosphere palpable as the Warrior of Light and young Alphinaud stood fast in their trial against Ser Grinnaux and Ser Paulecrain.

Though Haurchefant told himself that he simply need not worry, the threat of danger to the Warrior of Light made him grip the bars of separation between them with white knuckles. Externally, he appeared determined yet supportive, not taking his eyes off the altercation.

Never had he known her to have other magics in her spell book, yet in the smothering torch light and among the scrutinizing sea of eyes, aether drenched the area around them with power.

“Amazing..” Haurchefant whispered to himself, knowing full well the consequences of perceived intervention of the trial.

All of their journeys thus far, his lover was a healer strictly. Pondering on this, the night that Haurchefant was healed by her for the first time came to mind between clashes of steel and spells.

“Ngh!” Haurchefant winced while sucking in a breath, the two hidden in a cave in the tundra of the Coerthas Highlands, a caravan of wandering Garlean soldiers plaguing the area near them and shambling by.

Hunkering down and positioning himself between the cave’s opening and their position behind a large boulder, Haurchefant kept his ears focused for enemies while pressing a gloved hand to his sliced thigh.

“Are you injured?” He questioned to the Xaela, his brow knitted in concern.

“No,” she replied, the glow of her lumbal rings illuminating her skin in the dark. “But you are.”

The balance of aether in the air shifted as energy was plucked from their surroundings, and the Xaela placed a hand encapsulated by light atop his own, the wound beginning to mend.

Looking up from their hands, Haurchefant met her gaze, their features illuminated by the ethereal greens of the healing spell.

Suddenly, the two were in their own world. No cold or conflict, and the knight felt a flutter in his chest as he remained in the warmth of her presence.

Another lightning strike pulled him from his thoughts, and Haurchefant covered his face slightly as a gust of hot wind and smoke pushed his hair back, a deafening silence filling the room before the clang of armor falling to ground broke the tension.

Ser Paulecrain fell to one knee as bits of his white armor cracked and clattered to the ground. Ser Grinnaux fared no better, ragged breaths escaping his grimaced mouth.

Alphinaud stood behind the Warrior of Light, his tome clenched tight and a hand extended before him at the ready.

And in the center of history’s attention, the Warrior of Light stood boldly, her staff held high and her aspirations higher so.

“The victor: the Warrior of Light and her companions, Ser Alphinaud and Mistress Tataru. By Halone’s might, you are hereby relieved of your charges.”

Haurchefant could hardly wait for those iron-wrought gates to open as he hurried over to the Warrior of Light. Noticing her wobble, he hurriedly caught her and supported her weight with ease. Upon her was the distinct marks of mana depletion, and he quickly fetched a potion from her side pack and opened the bottle with his teeth.

“Stubborn.” He playfully judged, bringing the bottle to her lips and watching the color return to her skin while the potion took effect.

“Me?” She replied back.

“You didn’t didn’t even tell me you were a Thaumaturge!”

“Black Mage.”

“Even more exciting!” He exclaimed, the two laughing. “Now you‘ll have to tell me that story.”

[fury-brand]

zenos for 1, 25, 26?

1. Why do you like or dislike this character? / 25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

I disliked Zenos through to Endwalker because I thought they were angling at some kind of redemption arc with him, especially because a lot of his fans tried to emphasize that he was a tragic Sephiroth-alike and he got an unfair amount of screen time and second chances especially compared to my babygirl Ysayle.

And then in Endwalker they did so much hype shit with him honestly but the turning point was when he dips into the moral nihilism and asks if anything he's done would have made others happier if he had a good reason. Just a full-throated repudiation of all the poor little meow meowisms a full lean into "still murder" and away from "cool motive" (which he never really had) and I was like. Fully on board from that moment onward because it just eliminated the thing that was most annoying me about him, and all of his scenes in Endwalker were just so worth it.

Ironically, it also let me empathize with him a little more in the end, and I did feel for the guy during his final scene. I felt by then he had done me enough of a good turn to have earned his fight and it was a nice moment to send him out in a blaze of glory, plus I started to feel like he was working much better as a foil WOL-alike during Endwalker which so much was the culmination of all of FFXIV up to that point and which I had a lot of personal feelings about, since I played from beta and my life just looked completely different from when I started and where it finished.

I guess that kind of skimps on what I actually like about him, but... IDK, his whole deal? His obsession and ennui and unapologetic blood knight behaviour. I can call out that I specifically like that he saw something in Fordola (who I like very much) and is drawn to a snarling barking dog trying to rip her way up the ranks more than any of the garlean rank and file. Zenos likes people who burn because he doesn't. That's interesting.

26. What's something the character has done you can't get over? Be it something funny, bad, good, serious, whatever?

turned into a dragon broke through spacetime took one look at the embodiment of existential despair and said "? why haven't you beat it up yet." When people give these kinds of summaries it always kind of feels like they're embellishing things that happened or seeing the story as you would only see it if you paid close attention to blorbo but in this case it just. It just happens just like that. Everything from walking into Sharlayan through to the dodgeball fight at the end of the universe is golden.

[pillowfriendly]

ask game 8, 15, 18, 28

8) basics of the spear and bow from her clan mothers (for hunting, mostly), then continuing self-taught with the spear until she trained under ser alberic and with estinien. the spear and dragoon style of fighting is her pick for fighting large single targets, when she can trust defense to others, or just needs the most bighuge offensive power output she can manage

fray of course was her mentor in the greatsword, and continues to train her even after they have to leave his corpse behind. the heavier armor and big fuckoff sword of a dark knight is her go-to equipment loadout, starting in late hw by going out in public and basically daring the heavens ward to Fucking Do Something About It.

also Something Weird happened in ultima thule and now she can use a scythe in the garlean style out of nowhere. hm!

15) I DONT HAVE A CUTE SCREENSHOT OF HER AND G'RAHA I DONT KNOW HOW TO DO THAAAAAT. CRYS

i'd commission art but i think the process of doing so would make me die of embarrassment tb quite h. i like to see other people's but They'll Kill Me for doing it. you understand

18) kethry isn't doing so hot post-sb and later severely regrets what happened with yotsuyu. she understands having some part of you that's nasty and violent, and yotsuyu made that the whole of her being because of her circumstances... thats just what happened to pakik, for a while. thats just what happened to her, for a while. wasn't there something else she could have done...?

28) nauuu dont ask her about history shes SENSITIVE about that!! (and doesn't know very much of it, until she gets put through kriles GED program post ew.) though the answer would be amdapor. when she lost her place in her clan, she sheltered in amdaporan ruins for a season, and she supposes she owes them for that.

[hazelkjt]

🌪️ TORNADO - what is the biggest change you've ever made to them? how have they changed from their original version?

OC Emoji Asks

The biggest change Hazel has gone through since deciding to make her an OC and not just my FFXIV character has been her canon job/skillset. As depicted above, she was originally drafted as a Reaper. I originally planned out that during the Garlean attack on the Steppe in the Stormblood story, Hazel would walk the battlefield and find a soldier holding a Reaper Soul Crystal in his hand. She'd take it back with her, and it would be what sparks her interest in leaving the Steppe to journey to Eorzea. Then she'd meet up with Drusilla and learn how to be a Reaper proper.

This early draft version was...rough to say the least lmao. It hinged on way too many coincidences and conveniences for my liking looking back, the result of me wanting a specific outcome and trying to find the easiest way story-wise to make it happen. I was playing Reaper in my Savage static at the time so I had a lot of affinity for the job and wanted to reflect that in Hazel. But, the idea was clunky and awkward and in the back of my head didn't feel natural progression wise.

So, I started over and tried to think solely on how Hazel would advance in this world, as if she was an NPC. This approach is what led me to making the Reg!Timeline version of her a Samurai and the WoL!Timeline version an eventual Dark Knight. After deciding to make her a SAM, finding a reason for a Soul Crystal to find its way to her felt way less contrived since the job's origins and main school of teaching are much closer geographically. While the same can't be said for making her a Dark Knight she doesn't actually get her DRK Crystal until the actual evens of the DRK Job Quest story, before then she was simply wielding a large sword because that's how she was trained.

Which then leads to the groundwork and fleshing out of Hazel's parents. Without her finding the Reaper Crystal, Hazel needed another reason to want to journey outside the Steppe. As such, her mother's fascination and collection of foreign books was written as her inspiration. Likewise, creating her father to be a Kha tribe warrior who wields a giant blade and being her mentor wouldn't have happened without the initial swap. Large chunks of what I now consider foundational to Hazel wouldn't exist as they do now without me dropping Reaper as her canon class.

[resplendent-scale]

B A S I C S

Name: Jurei Decker

Nicknames: Jay. Growing up in a village in Thanalan with a population predominantly made up of Hyurs that didn't have a strong grasp on Hingan language, Jurei proved to be too difficult to pronounce properly, so people started calling her Jay and it ended up sticking.

Age: 22 by the end of Dawntrail.

Nameday: 29th Sun of the 6th Umbral Moon.

Race: Raen Au Ra, originally from Sui no Sato.

Gender: Female.

Orientation: Asexual Bi-romantic.

Profession: She started off as a Gladiator/Paladin originally before following the path of the Dark Knight. Now unable to truly be able to be classified as one or the other, she has adopted the title of Mystic Knight. She's also a medical doctor by trade.

P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T S

Hair: Auburn/Dark orange with streaks of white.

Eyes: She has one emerald green eye with a purple limbal ring and one red eye.

Skin: Her skin is tan from growing up in a desert for most of her life.

Tattoos/scars: She has a scar running across her face from her battle with Zenos in Yanxia.

F A M I L Y

Parents: Jay never knew her biological parents. Due to a vague omen that decreed that any twin born to the Shisui family be "disposed of", it was decided that, as the younger twin, Jay would be the one who would be put to death.

Mother: Unknown. Presumed dead.

Father: Unknown. Presumed dead.

Foster Father: Kansui Nagare - The former captain of the Guard of Shisui of the Violet Tides. After being given the order to to kill the child whose only crime was existing, he realized he couldn't go through with it and instead ran away, taking the girl with her. He would go on to raise her as her father until his death during the Seventh Umbral Calamity.

Foster Mother: Mara Decker - A Hyuran doctor and widow living in Thanalan, she met Kansui a year after his escape from the Ruby Sea. After nursing him and the infant Jay back to health after the two were found near death in the desert, she convinced him to stay in her village. Soon after, the two fell in love and Mara took the responsibility of raising Jay as her mother.

Siblings: Kurenai Shisui - Jay's long lost older twin sister and the current Ruby Princess. She had no knowledge of her younger twin's existence until her mother confided in her on her deathbed. The two would not meet until the events of Stormblood where Jay helped her free the Violet Tides from the Voidsent's grasp and wake Hisui from her slumber.

Foster sibling: Talan Decker - The son of Mara and her previous husband before his untimely death.

Grandparents: None living.

Foster grandparents: Roarich Fairclough - The father of Mara Decker and Jay's foster grandfather.

In-laws and Other:

Haurchefant Greystone - Jay's first and former lover. The two met during the events of A Realm Reborn where the two quickly developed feelings for one another. Jay hadn't spoken a single word since the death of her father during the Seventh Umbral Calamity and it was Haurchefant was the one who helped her begin to speak again. When she felt as though she couldn't trust anyone after the Bloody Banquet, Haurchefant was the only person she could confide in. His death in her arms shook her to her core, causing her to close herself up once again.

Yugiri Mistwalker - Her current significant other. After spending a not too insignificant amount of time with her during the events of post Heavensward and Stormblood, Jay found herself developing feelings for this Shinobi from the East. However, as she was still deeply mourning the death of Haurchefant, she felt as though she didn't deserve to love someone else like that ever again. The only problem was, after the two ambushed Zenos, the crown prince of the Garlean Empire, Yugiri found herself developing feelings for Jay in return. The idea of finding love again scared Jay so much that she began to avoid and shun Yugiri in the hopes that the latter would fall out of love with the former. After a pretty harsh wakeup call, Jay realized how foolish she had been, but the damage had already been done. Their relationship had been strained significantly, but after a deep, heartfelt apology, the two began to attempt to mend their relationship. Jay still hadn't moved on from what happened in Ishgard and she knew she wasn't ready for a relationship yet, but the two could still be friends, or at least be friendly with one another.

Then, Jay had left for the First, where she was there for a year. During her time away, she realized that her feelings for the Shinobi had only deepened in her absence. Upon her and the Scions' return to the Source, Jay wasted no time in traveling to Doma where she found Yugiri and passionately confessed her love to her. Without a word, Yugiri interrupted her with a kiss and the two had been together ever since.

After the events of Endwalker, the two proposed to one another and are now eagerly awaiting their wedding day.

Yunagi and Ihanami - Yugiri's mother and father. Jay met them during the events of Stormblood and later on, she would go visit them personally to ask for their approval for their daughter's hand in marriage, to which they both accepted.

Hisui Sui - Jay's and Kurenai's distant relative and closest confidant of the Ruby Princess. Jay doesn't know her too well, but she was one of a small group of people that was present when Jay's true lineage and her blood relation to Kurenai was revealed.

Pets: She has a pet lesser panda named Tomoe, as well as a mameshiba named Yumi. However, contradictory to how she was advertised, Yumi did not stay small for long. She grew and grew and grew until she got really big. Big enough to be used as a mount, even.

S K I L L S

Abilities: From a young age, Jay learned how to use a bow, which she was very proficient in. However, after her father's death, she couldn't bring herself to pick up a bow again for years. Years later, at the start of the Seventh Astral Era, she traveled to Ul'Dah where she learned how the way of the sword and shield from Mylla Stormsong of the Gladiator's Guild, and later, the Paladin Jenlyns. Some time later, under the tutelage of Fray and later Sidurgu, Jay learned how to use a greatsword, as well as how to channel the dark aether within her to great effect. Later still, during the events of Endwalker, she and Alphinaud Leveilleur learned from one another on how to master the set of Nouliths they each received. As someone with a weak connection to the Aether like Jay, they make it much easier to use magic. And now, she has recently swapped out her shield for a second sword, mastering the way of the Viper, as well as learning how to use paint of all things to channel Aether, becoming a Pictomancer. Recently, after the events of Shadowbringers, Jay began to recover from her past traumas and began to use a bow again, becoming a talented Bard.

Hobbies: Jay loves to cook and sing. Every now and again, she'll put on a show for the kids in the Doman Enclave or cook a delicious meal for Yugiri. After becoming a Sage, she also opened up a medical practice where she works as a doctor, curing people of what ails them at no cost.

T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: At this point in her life, Jay is always willing to help out in any way she can, even if it's to her own detriment.

Most Negative Trait: She often doesn't take other people's feelings into consideration when she does things. She doesn't really think about how others would feel if Jay got hurt or worse whenever she rushes head first into danger and when she wants to do something nice, she'll usually just have her own idea of how people would react to what she does. Sometimes it goes well, other times, it doesn't.

L I K E S

Colors: Green, dark red, black, blue, and various shades of purple.

Smells: Sea breeze, meat, fresh fruit.

Textures: Au Ra scales, smooth rocks, gemstones, sand, and grass.

Drinks: Chai, hot chocolate, ale, fruit juice.

[voidsentprinces]

Join FFXIV we got:

Fuckable Monster Gods, Yandere General, SUCH DEVASTATION, Malevolent Breadloaf, Hate Fuck Philosophy between Church's Money Illiterate Doomslayer and the Heretical Dragon fuckers, Bestest Boy, Butch Scholar with an axe, France with hot single elves, Lesbian Gunslingers, Manwhore of Astrology, his love rival and the asexual woman who has no clue, Inner Feral State, his legal partner and their adopted daughter, Murder Bimbo, his angry red head and their sadistic feral viceroy with her himbo henchman, Hopeless Romantic who gets bullied, his very heterosexual tribe of male only warriors, the apeshit warlock stealing his women while being transpiritual and a shepherd wife, frat boy emperor, Iroh Samurai and the sickest ninja woman ever, Your Own Personal Catboy, his eligible straightforward daughter who is also captain the guard, THE HIMBO FAMILY complete with bomb throwing cat girl, adoptive mechanical nonbinary child, and psychotic hard line temper mother, entire village of rabbit woman, the most love struck catboy outside the Crystarium and his religious group, an entire kingdom of nonbinary fae folk and their they/them King, the Ghosts of Christmas Past as well the Ghost of Christmas Present with his talking dog, THE TRUEST BESTEST BOY and his robot companion, the Dragon Father and his brood of angsty teenagers, Genocidal Tsundere Emperor, his grandson no-nonsense Emperor and the pretty boy handsome girl of ancient times, the hero worshiping companion of eld who doesn't remember you BUT YOU CAN FIX HIM!, a entire continent of nerds ripe for the punching, an entire continent of geeks ripe for picking on you and your companions including their leader SCIENCE WIFE, SUCH DEVASTATON's extended family who will remain perfect if you don't touch that fucking side quest, an entire moon of bunny people not to be confused with the village of rabbit women but while we're talking about rabbit people have this stoic and handy rabbit man and his VERY ENTHUSIASTIC TRANS LION FRIEND! Did we mention you get a punchy very enthusiastic woman clad in red? Drop by Ala Mhigo she is always happy to help you punch things! Also while you're there meet the main soldier you're deprogramming from the Garlean Cult he likes giving buuz to people and has this...Great Dane vibe, I don't know how else to describe it. Got a moment? Meet your adoptive family, a knife daughter and her hammer girlfriend, a sword daughter and her scholarly brother, an entire orphanage out of both Ul'dah AND Idyllshire, and a berb daughter who almost ended the entire universe because she COUDLNT STOP FEELING!!!!!!!!!! Also meet more monsters for you to fuck Flayed Demon, MUSCLE GODDESS, Cowabunga, grumpy fire man, and Knight in Shining Identity Theft, and their friend nonbinary lass who can kill AND EAT! There is, of course, also...adoptive fathers in partnership with you and knife daughter, wine aunt of a thousand Fire IVs, a cantankerous short lad, scholar woman who is getting into art, Tataru the Most Powerful and Important Character in the game and therefore the only one I shall refer to by name here, THE HORNIEST WOMAN IN ALL OF FICTION, two Roegadyn brothers, a fabulous elezen healer and her exasperated sister, the adoptive mother and legendary dancer AND bartender, an equally exasperated woman who just convinced her patriarch to retire from adventuring, a short Sultana, an oblivious Seedseer, and the greatest admiral to grace this franchise, General Father and his son from the Shire, the inventor with a heart of gold, his companions, their stern manager, and the gremlin man who is here to make the inventor eat his shirt while laughing. AND THATS JUST THE PEOPLE IN THE MAIN STORYLINE.

So join FFXIV today.

[zwierzodudle]

thinking about how lucia was supposed to spy on ishgard only to become aymeric's most loyal knight. we never really hear about any other garlean spies so it's very funny to imagine that she was the last straw and they never bothered sending another one.

anyway here's my candidates for Potential Previous Failed Garlemald Spies In Ishgard:

first one was eaten by a dragon. it's ishgard, it happens

several who joined the ironworks and stayed because the union is better and they do little to no human experimentation

DRK wol killed one while mowing down inquisitors and doesn't even remember it as something particularly important. it's ishgard, it happens

one became a priest as a cover then found halone for real

another got wildly into the local figure skating competition, became their best coach in years and stayed forever

^years later they will get ishgard gold in the Etheirys Olympics because they're still salty about being made to join the garlemald military instead of following their skating dreams

[elliewiltarwyn]

infopost

hello! this is a sideblog for my three FFXIV Warriors of Light OCs, as seen above, so i can put them in a jar and shake them a lot, watch them rotate in a microwave, and other such things we do with our blorbos.

i do some gposing, rant about my girls, and reblog everything from others' gposes and gushing about their WoLs to shitposts and dumb jokes about this award-winning mmo with a free trial up to level 70 including the first two award-winning expansions and no restrictions on playtime.

my likes and follows come from my main blog @wildknightblaze which is just my normal life shit, you don't have to follow that one lol

blog tags include:

#my ocs: ellie wiltarwyn, #my ocs: mia longhart, #my ocs: lilyana tsuki - main focus tags for each of my three wols, if someone wants to look at a specific one.

#oc loreposting, #ask games, and #tag games for the sort of character-building stuff i usually get from prompts or friends' questions

#ffxiv gpose - not a blog-specific tag, but it's what i put on all of my gposes

#my fanfiction - not quite as much use as gpose, but i do occasionally write stuff and put this on it! includes ao3 works, whatever spontaneous writing inspiration i get, and FFXIV Write entries

#ellie's ramblings - whatever other ffxiv-related musings i might have about playing the game or the story or anything else

re: spoilers, i tend to stick to the unofficial two-week embargo after patch releases and will tag them with "#[expansion name] spoilers" and "#patch [Y.X] spoilers" for some time afterwards. i do still tend to yap about stuff in the current state of the game untagged, so use discretion if you wish to remain spoiler-free.

I also play the game's savage raids with my static as they come out, and stream our progress on my Twitch channel, mostly for archival purposes and so our FC members can watch. currently* we raid on Sunday and Tuesday evenings, usually from 9:30 PM-12:00AM US Eastern time. *well, as of this writing (January 2025) we are done with the raid tier and are sort of in hibernation until the next one, though I may also consider streaming Ultimate prog if we get into it!

as for the WoLs themselves:

Elilgeim "Ellie" Wiltarwyn

The most well-known of the trio of Warriors of Light, Elilgeim grew up in Limsa Lominsa with lofty dreams of higher education and bettering the world, only to be rejected by the Studium and lose both her parents in the same day. She ran away from home and weathered the Sixth Umbral Calamity on the streets of Ul'dah, eventually making her way to Gridania to start over as a novice conjurer and rebuild her life. Fast-forward six years and she's the strongest member of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, dubbed Ellie by her co-Warrior of Light Mia and having taken the vanguard as a dark knight and multiple styles of melee combat in order to save the star and its shards from varying threats on numerous occasions. Even after achieving such victories, she's not about to let her thirst for adventure go unsatisfied. Yet for all that fame, she tries to keep a low profile and only truly relaxes in good company, where a seemingly grouchy and cold exterior gives way to a self-confident, easily amused, and deeply caring inner self.

She may care a little too obviously, though; tales abound of her doomed romances with multiple notable women of historical import to these worldly conflicts. While some range from truth-adjacent to flat-out fanciful faerie tales, only her closest friends know she's happily married to her co-Warriors of Light after far too many years of mutual pining.

-----

Mia Longhart

As far as anyone could tell, Mia sprang fully-formed into existence as a member of Ul'dah's Gladiators' Guild, earning her keep on the bloodsands and eventually becoming the first swordswoman to claim the mantle of free paladin in decades. It's only deep into the battle against the XIVth Legion of Garlemald that it comes out that she too is Garlean, born and raised Maia jen Asina, having fled the empire after growing discontent with its colonialist ambitions. No one doubts her commitment to the fight against the Empire, however, which she drives forward with a levelheaded temperament, endless kindness to her peers and allies, and an incorruptible moral compass. Events in the First and a reckoning with the origin of her soul and its relation to the Ascian Emet-Selch shake her to her core, but with the support of her friends and the love of her co-Warriors of Light, she forges on, willing to shoulder burdens so her friends don't have to - which is how she ends up forming a pact with the voidsent whose strength Ellie used to fell Zenos viator Galvus. Coming to grips with the complicated tapestry of her homeland's history, she takes up the art of the reaper and the scythe that killed Zenos to prepare for any future battles she must fight.

-----

Lilyana Tsuki

Born L'ilyana Shuru, she left home after traumatic events and escaped to Vylbrand, where she took a job waitressing at the Bismarck for some time before falling in with Limsa Lominsa's secret Rogues' Guild. After saving the Mizzenmast from destruction with them, she is recruited into the Scions alongside Elilgeim and Mia as another one blessed with the Echo, fighting by their side to become one of the three Warriors of Light. She has a bright and cheery air and is always smiling, supportive, and enthusiastic, managing to charm even the cold-shouldered Elilgeim, but the trauma of the past weighs heavy on her heart, crippling her with a lack of self-esteem and a deep-seated belief that she will never be good or worthy enough. It's not till she admits what and who is important to her that she is able to stand on her own two feet and reach out to take what she wants. Though she is a master of stealth and by far the most agile and light-footed of the Warriors of Light, when she finds happiness she feels motivated to express her creative side and takes up the art of pictomancy alongside her friend Krile.

[myreia]

All the Spaces In-between

Rating: Explicit Characters: Aymeric & Aureia (WoL) Pairing: Wolmeric Word Count: 5,245 Summary: Aymeric receives an unexpected—but much appreciated—linkpearl call from his lover on the far side of the world. Tags: Smut, explicit sexual content, linkpearl sex. Set during stormblood. Mentions of past Aymeric x Estinien. Aymeric POV. Read on AO3

It is two bells to noon when the linkpearl hums.

At first Aymeric thinks he must be imagining it. The delicate thing has been dormant for weeks, ever since Aureia left on her journey. She was so flushed and bright-eyed when she gifted it to him, pushing it eagerly into his hands on the day she left for Gyr Abania. A token, a private link to keep them connected while she journeyed away from Ishgard.

They have only used it three times. Once when she arrived in Castrum Oriens. A second when she reached Rhalgr’s Reach. And finally, a third not long after the Resistance was raided. She was so silent then, saying little more than a word or two. He prattled on, filling the silence with arbitrary small talk and unimportant politics and Emmanellain’s latest tomfoolery, until she finally blurted it out. She was injured. Badly. And she wished to return to Ishgard.

She was coming home from her foray too soon, bruised, bandaged and broken.  

Her injuries healed quickly under the chirurgeons’ care—she had survived much worse, Alphinaud said—but her spirit remained crushed. This was no simple taste of defeat; there was a hollowness inside her that was eating her alive, and, gods be damned, she could not speak of it. He could not bring himself to ask what happened on that horrible, horrible day. He knew the details, of course—the burning base, the Imperial destruction, the tally of the injured, the tally of the dead. Zenos yae Galvus stalking the battlefield like a demon summoned from the Void.

But there was something else beyond the fight. Something that she still cannot voice, that shattered her into a million pieces and left her to pick them all up again alone.  

Aureia’s silence was unsettling. This was not the first time she had fallen in combat, nor would it be the last. She is no stranger to defeat, and yet the Garlean prince left an undeniable mark on her. Even after her recovery and the plan to travel to Othard was put in place, she was distant. Faded. Like an autumn leaf torn from its branch, falling away from the place it called home.

The linkpearl hums again, the white bead pulsing faintly with light.

Aymeric stares at it, certain now that he is not making it up. He wets his lower lip and puts down his pen, stretching out a hand. His fingers hover above the linkpearl’s box, its home since he removed it from his ear. Out of the way, but not forgotten. Housed safely and waiting, ready for when she saw fit to call. There was no expectation for her to call right away. The journey to Othard is long, and the seas are perilous. She has more important things to do than to worry about calling him.  

His gaze flicks to the chronometer above his mantlepiece. Then back to the linkpearl. The day is still young. A fire crackles in the hearth, staving off the early cold that creeps in through the windows overnight. He returned from morning prayers not that long ago. A pile of paperwork is stacked upon his desk, and this only matters so urgent he must deal with them at home. There will be others waiting in his office at the Congregation of Our Knights Most Heavenly.

That really is a mouthful, you know. Has no one thought of renaming it to something maybe under seven syllables?  

The memory murmurs at the edges of his mind, softened by the haze of reminiscence. They were lying in bed, perhaps. His bed—or was it hers? No. It must have been his. The sun was too bright that morning, flooding through tall windows. She sat up with the sheets pulled around her, her hair a mess, creases in the corners of her eye, glowing like a beacon in the sunlight.

The linkpearl hums once more.

Aymeric shoves his seat back and rises to his feet, seizes the linkpearl and puts it in his ear.

“Aureia,” he breathes.

Nothing at first. Then—

“Hi.”

Her voice is clearer than expected. He closes his eyes and presses a hand to his chest, as if the pressure can soothe his aching heart. “You called.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t do it sooner.”

A pause. Faint music echoes from her side, too distant for him to make much sense of. Melodies played on instruments unfamiliar to his ears. Where is she now? How far has she gone? Has she made it safely? Is she hurt? Halone above, he does not know what he will do if this is how he discovers she has been gravely wounded again— 

“We’re in Hingashi.”

“Hingashi?” His eyes widen. “Then you—”

“Made it, yes.”

He breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank Halone. Your journey was uneventful, I take it?”

“An incident with pirates.” He can envision the playful smile on her lips from her tone alone. “Nothing we couldn’t handle. I suppose one could say Alisaie taught them a lesson or two. Or four.”

“Would that I could have seen that.”

“Would that you could have come with us.” She pauses, the score of the city shifting in the distance. The instruments have faded now, but he can hear the rhythm of a busy street, the cacophony of distant gossip. Is she outside? Sitting by a window? If only his tongue wasn’t so tied, he could ask her to paint the picture for him. “I think you would like it here in Kugane. The city is wonderful.”

“Any snow?”

“No.” He’s certain he can hear her grinning. “Tataru took us on a tour of the markets. And the tea houses, Aymeric! The tea here… I can’t describe it. I hate to say it, but it puts your Ishgardian brews to shame.”

“I would very much like to argue that. Ishgardians pride ourselves on our tea, you know.”

“You could, but I don’t think you’ll win.”

“That’s hardly fair. I taught you everything you know.”

“And now I have surpassed you.”

He chuckles, a soft smile spreading from ear to ear. Abandoning his desk, he pads across his office and slows to a halt by the hearth, watching the flames dance. It wasn’t so long ago that she was here, curled up on the couch. Her favourite coat—a red leather duster—is still here, flung over the back. “Then I look forward to this tea sparring match upon your return,” he says, warming his hands above the fire. The chronometer ticks, the second hand moving determinedly forward. “Shall you put it in your calendar or shall I?”

“Mm. I think we can think of better things to do than to spar over tea.” Her voice drops to a murmur, low and husky, thick with suggestion. It’s surprisingly forward of her, considering their lack of contact over the past weeks. Or is that another thing he is imagining? “Did you know they have public baths here? Hot springs. Perhaps there are more similarities between Ishgard and Hingashi than we thought. Just like the mountains. They’re beautiful here, Aymeric. I don’t know if I there will be a chance to visit before we move on, but I can see them from my window before the sun sets too far.”

His throat constricts, his breath shallow. “Is the sun setting now?” he asks, leaning a shoulder against the mantle.

“Yes. It’s just gone below the horizon.”

“And it is morning here.”

A pause. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think… I can call again later. If you’re busy—”

“No, no. Please.” He exhales a long breath and rests his forearm along the mantlepiece, his fingers tapping the wood near the chronometer. “It’s good to hear your voice. More than I can say.”

Another pause. “I’m attuned to the aetheryte here now, you know. I could slip away. Come see you in person.” Though there is hopefulness in her voice, it isn’t as much a question as it is a daydream. One where the weight of nations doesn’t weigh on their shoulders. One where their names and faces are unknown. One where he isn’t the Lord Commander and she isn’t the Warrior of Light.

“It would attract too much attention to receive a visitor all the way from Kugane,” he answers softly. “I cannot guarantee there wouldn’t be talk, and any talk can find its way back to Garlemald. Best stay discreet.”

“I know, I… I miss you. I wish I could see you.”

“But I can hear you. That is more than enough.”

She falls silent. A distant rush of wind—a breeze blowing by her window, perhaps?—and he can hear the faint trail of music once again. “I should let you go, then,” she murmurs. “Let you get back to work. And I should go to bed. It’s been a long day.”

“Aureia—”

“Yes?”

He flips the chronometer around, pushing it face-down into the mantlepiece. “Stay with me a while?”

She doesn’t answer. In the uncertain space between breaths, he wonders if he is about to find the answer to the question that has haunted him for weeks. How did a Garlean prince—however ferocious—shake her so badly that their relationship feels unstable? Have they reached that impossible place he fears the most? The immutable point where they begin to break apart, slowly but surely moving away from one another. It has happened before. He was young and foolish when he let Estinien into his heart. Has he learned anything since? Or is she destined to meet a similar end?

There is something about these warriors his heart chooses—bound to wander like distant stars, while he is ever bound to Ishgard.

Aureia’s voice murmurs in his ear, warm and firm and with such tenderness he is reminded why exactly he loves her. “I would like that.”

“You would?”

“Mhm.”

Warmth rushes through him, warmth that certainly has nothing to do with his proximity to the hearth. He thrums his fingers against the mantlepiece and runs his tongue across his bottom lip, the sound of her voice stirring something deep within him. “You were preparing for bed, yes?” he asks quietly.

“Mhm.” A rustle crackles through the linkpearl, the sound of leather brushing against linen. “I was just about to undress, but it’s a bit chilly here by the window. I’ll have to give up this view.”

“Why don’t you retire?”

“I’m not tired yet. Sleep’s been elusive of late.” Another pause. More rustling, as if she has pushed herself to the edge of her chair.  “I haven’t had a moment to relax, you know. Perhaps I should run a bath…?”

“A bath, yes. That sounds…” He inhales a breath, his fingers now curling against the mantlepiece. “…magnificent.”

“Then maybe I will.” A pause. “I can bring you with me, if you’d like.”

His heart skips a beat, desire blooming in his core—too early, far too early for an official morning like this one. Perhaps that is the consequence of distance. He yearns to see her, to touch her, to kiss her and more. To slowly peel away her clothing and reveal her piece by piece. To caress the curve of her breast, run his hand across the underside of her thighs, press his tongue to the sweet place between her legs. Kiss her there until she is shaking and trembling and gasping, the way she did their first night together on this office’s very floor.

His breeches tighten in the tell-tale way.

“By all means,” he murmurs. “I would enjoy that.”

“Aymeric?”

“Yes?”

“Where are you exactly?”

“In my personal office.”

The way he lingers on personal should tell her all she needs to know.

“Good. Stay there.” A soft rumble from her end followed by a click, as if she has opened and closed a sliding door. “Why don’t you lock the door? We might be occupied for a while. Unless, of course, you’d rather not.”

He chuckles. “Tell me, why would I rather not?”

“Well, no risk, no reward, right?” He can imagine her cocking an eyebrow, a mischievous smile brightening her face. She would never admit it, but she enjoys a challenge in all aspects of her life. “And doesn’t it taste a little better with a little risk? I seem to remember a certain someone slinking around the Forgotten Knight at certain inadvisable hours just to see me—”

“Aureia—”

“Ducking into dark corners just to give me a kiss—”

“Aureia—”

“Sneaking away from the Congregation of Our Knights Most Heavenly for half a bell just so you could put your mouth on my—”

“Aureia!”  

“Well? Am I wrong?”

He laughs. Fury above, the images she places in his head… This is a dangerous turn of conversation, and like most of the dangerous events in his life, one he has run headfirst into willingly. A pleasurable chill runs down his spine—or perhaps it was a beat of sweat. It is too damn hot now before the hearth, but he doesn’t dare move. If he moves now, he’ll find himself lying flat on the couch with his breeches down to his knees, stroking himself to his end.

It’s too soon for that. Far too soon.

He slips a hand beneath the long front layer of his uniform and palms across the hardening length beneath.

“Where are you now?” he asks.

A pause. The linkpearl crackles with interference of some kind. “Bathroom,” she says after a moment, her voice distorted. Perhaps that’s rushing water in the back. “It’s nice in here. Lots of steam. Lots of plants. A little waterfall. The bathtub’s sunk into the floor. I wish you could join me.”   

“I am joining you.”

“Are you?” Her voice returns with the distortion gone, suddenly louder and fuller than it has ever been. As if she is in this room with him and holding him tight, speaking into his ear. “Then what I am doing now?”

Fabric slithers against skin, the sound too obscure for him to know exactly how. She could be doing anything, anything at all, but he would rather fall for the spell his imagination casts then seek the truth. He has a feeling she prefers it that way. Let them build this fantasy together—it’s all they will have for a very long time. “Undressing,” he murmurs. “You’re undoing your shirt. Opening the clasps one by one…”

“Mhm, maybe. What else?”

His breath hitches. “You’ve tossed it on the floor now. Pushed it out of the way. You’ll do your brassiere next, unclasp the front and…” He exhales, desire coursing through him as he imagines the scene. Her, standing there half-undressed, toying with her clothing. It would be the lacey one, he decides, the fine black netting crisp against her skin, a rosy nipple peeking through. Slender fingers pull it free, revealing her breasts—full and round and always a little too large for her frame.   

He strokes his hardening cock through the padded fabric. “Your trousers, Aureia,” he growls. “Remove those next, if you would.”

She chuckles, low and husky. Somewhere behind her, he can make out the trickle of water. “What do you see?”

“Your arse.”

A peal of laughter. “What else, Aymeric? What do you want to see?”

Anticipation thrums within him and he loosens his breeches. “You,” he rasps, hunching against the mantlepiece. His hand splays against the polished wood, fingertips clamped against the carved edge. “I want to see all of you.”

Fabric rustles against fabric and he is certain she is undressed for real now, pulling her clothes free and abandoning them in a pile. She sucks in a breath, the sound wavering in his ear, and a spike of longing courses through him until he is shaking. Though he prides himself on being an even-tempered individual, he has never wanted something so far out of reach so badly. It takes considerable effort not to rescind his earlier decision about using the aetheryte and ask her to return to Ishgard immediately.

“I’m not wearing anything,” Aureia whispers. Water sloshes—she must have put a foot in, testing the temperature. “Are you coming into the bath or not?”

His mind fuzzes with desire. “By the Fury, yes.”

The sound of water sloshing around her as she steps into the path has him weak at the knees. He pulls his erect cock free and runs his fingers across the length, groaning in relief.

“I’m sitting down now,” she murmurs. “The water’s warm.”

He nods, only distantly aware that she cannot see it. “Aye… yes, it is. Aureia?”

“Hm?”

“May I…” He loses the words, panting for breath as he squeezes the tip, swiping his thumb across the wetness gathered there. “May I touch you?”

She’s quiet for a time—only the sound of rippling water comes through the linkpearl. “Yes. Where?”

He grips his cock and pulls a long, aching stroke. “Your hips, your thighs…” He groans. The fire dances in its hearth, its soft orange glow spilling out over him. “Between them.”

“Mm.” She sighs breathily in his ear and the sound pierces him through to his core. It’s enough to envision her lying in the Hingan bath, hair piled high on her head, breasts tantalizing submerged just beneath the waterline, droplets clinging to her collarbone. Legs spread wide with her hand between them, touching herself slowly in response to his voice. “Where else?”

Pleasure mounts within him. “Your breasts,” he murmurs. “Let me put my mouth on one.”

“Already done.” Her voice trembles, holding back a moan. “My hand’s here.”

“Good, I…” In his mind’s eye, the water flows about her—drip, drip, drip—as she pulls herself upright and trails her fingers across her breast, toying with the nipple. “By the Fury, how I wish I could kiss you now—”

“What’s stopping you?”

Aymeric groans and squeezes his eyes shut. “How I would if I could,” he breathes as he strokes himself, grinding his other hand into the mantlepiece for support. “I would strip myself of all my livery and descend into the water’s embrace with you.”

“Mm—”

“I would kiss you once and then a hundred times more.”

Aureia’s voice caresses his inner ear with a quiet, sensual gasp. The tables have turned; it is his turn to coax pleasure out of her with his voice alone, and he is eager to cast that spell. There is something about the enchantment of words and imagination, and this sensuality that only distance can provide. Unfortunate they did not discover it sooner, but he is fortunate they know it now. It cannot replace the intimacy of sharing a space, but if there is anything she has taught him—and Estinien before her—it is that intimacy comes in many shades.

He bites his lip, a husky moan rumbling in the back of his throat. “I would… I would make love to you in that very bath, Aureia,” he presses, stroking faster now. “Once, twice, thrice more, whichever way you choose—”

“Gods, don’t stop,” she murmurs, the works thick with desire. “Tell me, please—”

His cock throbs in his hand. “I would pull you here, onto my lap. Let you take my cock and ride me. Fury above, I could be inside you right now—”

“No.”

The word sudden and small, as if it slipped out of her by accident. Though he’s still trembling from his mounting pleasure, something in the pace has broken and he is left floating in a strange, numb limbo. He slows, holding himself with a hesitant hand, brows drawn together in concern. “Aureia?” he murmurs. “Are you all right?”

“I…” She pauses. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“Are you certain?”

Another pause. “Yes.”

He wets his lower lip. “We can stop.”

“I don’t want to. I want this, I do, but…” Water sloshes through her linkpearl, as if she is rising from the tub. “Can we not do that? I just… I don’t think I can have that kind of sex right now. Even when it’s imaginary.”

“I understand.”

A lump forms in his throat. It’s a sensitive topic, and not one he is willing to press her on now. Their intimate relationship has come a long way since their first night together; he still recalls her broken expression and the way she curled up on herself when the single act she desperately wanted proved to be too painful for her body to handle. Time and effort and trust have all lent their aid in easing her difficulties, and she was ecstatic the first time they succeeded. Though they’ve since overcome this particular hurdle, she still has challenges and days when it simply will not work—and nights when she twists herself into an emotional wreck because of it.

She has said, when they discussed it, that it is her problem and hers alone to solve.

What he sees—though he is hesitant to say it—is that she pressures herself into seeking the things that she believes will make her normal.

Things that both of them could do without.

Sex is not often at the forefront of his mind—at least not as much compared to other men his age. And compared to the way some noblemen discuss their mistresses and their wives and assorted other affairs, he balks at the idea of this one particular act being the crowning achievement of intimate relations.

The youth of the High Houses would no doubt be disappointed to learn that the charming Lord Commander has never been a philanderer. His experience with sex and romance is limited, and his youthful days with Estinien were a long time ago. Even if they weren’t, this particular issue would never have been a problem given that Estinien is neither a woman nor equipped with the necessary physiology. Though Aureia keeps insisting on this one specific act, he has not once felt the need for it when there are dozens of others that bring them just as much satisfaction. And still she seems to think she is somehow lesser for being unable to do it without pain.

Some days he doesn’t know what to do.

A question dances at the back of his mind. It has been a long time since she has struggled with it and their last month together was one of unhampered bliss. As far as he knew, she was making progress—right up until the day she left for Castrum Oriens.  

So, what changed?  

Aymeric sighs. “Aureia,” he says quietly. “You’re certain you would like to continue?”

“I’m sure.” She chuckles. “Tell me what you’re doing right now. Where are you?”

“Well, I have not left my office on account of my trousers being fully undone.”

“Where are you in your office?”

“By the hearth.” A smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “The fire has come unexpectedly close to witnessing a debauched act right in front of it.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time. Your office attracts debauchery.”

He laughs, his concern melting away, and sinks onto the couch. “Consider it a secret only Halone will know,” he says, casually throwing an arm over the backrest. His fingers meet the soft leather of her favourite coat, and his heart pangs, cursing the distance. His breeches are still untied, his half-hard cock poking out. “You left your coat here.”

“I know. It was hard to say goodbye to it.” A door slams abruptly on her end, and he hears the distinct sound of her bare feet padding against wood. “Keep it safe for me?”

“That’s a promise I can keep.” He leans back, watching the flames dance in the hearth, his hand idly passing across his cock. Just enough to cling to his earlier arousal and coax it back to life. “You’ve moved. Where are you now?”

“Bedroom.” The tell-tale creak of a mattress squeaks over the linkpearl.  

“Dressed or undressed?”

“Neither. Towel.” She pauses and he swears he can hear her smiling. “You’re on the couch now, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Good guess.” The mattress creaks. There’s a light ruffle, as if she’s moving pillows around, and then she relaxes, sighing breathily in his ear. “I’m lying down now. On my bed. Shall I take this towel off?”

“Yes. Please.” Desire blooms within his core and his cock hardens beneath his grip. He lets his legs spread wide and shifts the front of his livery to the side, allowing for easier, deeper strokes. He imagines it is her hands grasping him, her lips pressed tight around the head as she sucks him. “Is it gone?”

She chortles. “Impatient!” More rustling, long and slow. The anticipation makes his toes curl. “It’s on its way.”

He groans, pumping faster.

“Do you want to know what I’m doing?” She whispers the words, coy and alluring. He pictures the way she must be trailing her hands across her body. Up and down her curves, along the valley between her breasts. She untucks the edge of her towel and peels it free. “I think you’d like it.”

“Yes. Yes. Fury above, Aureia, I wish to know—”

“I’m quite naked on this bed right now.” She exhales, long and languid, dancing on the edge of a moan. “Spread out. You’d see everything if you were here—”

“Everything?”

“Everything. I have a hand on my breast, just for you. The other’s between my thighs. I…” Her breath hitches and a moan slips out. “I’m touching myself now, with just my fingers.”

Arousal beads across the tip of his cock. He tilts his head back, loose hair brushing his jaw, and seeks deeper into the cushions. He grips himself with both hands, stroking over and over. He imagines her spread on the bed, legs open for him, her lips parted in that soft shape as she pleasures herself.

“How does it feel?” he rasps, his cock throbbing beneath his hands. Pleasure coils in his groin, hot and liquid. His peak is within reach. The promise of it urges him on, fuelled by thoughts of her writhing on that damn bed. “Aureia, please—”

“Good. It feels good.” Her breath comes in shallow gasps now. She’s close—he’s certain of that. He can hear her trembling over the link. “Are you touching yourself?”

He pants. Faster and faster, more and more, careening to the edge. “Yes, yes—” 

“I wish it was my hands there. Just as I wish yours were here—”

“They will be in the future—” 

“I want you, Aymeric.”

“You have me. I’m yours—”

“I… I wish I had you now—”

“You have me, Aureia. You have me—”

Her voice breaks, rasping in his ear. Then she whispers those final small words, words that send him over the edge.

“Do you want to hear me come?”

In the moment he is certain he says yes, but later he cannot recall the word ever leaving his lips. He moans, a distant memory of her on top of him summoned to his mind—dark lashes sweeping against pale cheeks, black hair spilling about her face, her breasts bouncing, a smile like the sun—and sultry heat rushes through him. Sweat clings to his brow, his neck, his chest—his skin is damp beneath his heavy uniform, too hot in this damn room.

His back arches, his hips rise, and at last he shudders at the peak.

Warmth flushes his hand as he spills into his palm, catching the mess as best he can. He trembles, hips bucking as the last few aftershocks course through him. Biting down, he muffles his moans and desperately hopes that none of his staff have suddenly decided that now is the correct time to check if the Lord Commander has drowned beneath his paperwork.

Slowly, he stills, blissful exhaustion spreading through him from his belly, and he collapses back into the couch.

“Aymeric?” Aureia’s voice is gentle, much quieter than before.

He lets out a long, satisfied sigh. “I’m well, I…” He trails off in a haze and opens his bleary eyes, one hand still holding his cock. He should do something about that soon. But not yet. Not yet. “I have not felt this well in a fortnight.”

She giggles. “Good.”

He pauses, the linkpearl hard in his ear, and stares dumbfounded at the ceiling. Despite her question allowing his imagination to run wild, he didn’t hear her reach her end over the link. Perhaps he was too preoccupied with, well… all of this. “Did you…?” he asks, trailing off, the heat of embarrassment flushing his cheeks. Thank the Fury she can’t see him. “I’m sorry, I seem to have caused quite a—ha—disturbance, shall we say—on my end.”

“Mmm…” Fabric rustles and he has the distinct impression she has rolled over onto her side. “I’m well, Aymeric. Thank you. It was wonderful.”

He wets his lower lip. It’s not an answer to the question.

Damn it, man, leave it be. If she says she’s satisfied, she is satisfied. There is no reason to doubt her.  

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” Another pause where the distance of the passing seconds fills him with unease. His imagination, no doubt. He is seeing something that isn’t there. “We should do this again sometime.”

“I would like that.”

“When?”

He smiles gently. “Perhaps for the next time I can arrange for a morning off. That way we do not have to rush.”

“You shouldn’t have to sacrifice your mornings for me. We can arrange for your evenings.”

“Perhaps we can do both.”

“Both.” She trails off. “I like that. I miss you.”

He nods, once again reminding himself that she cannot see the gesture, and slowly unfurls from the couch in search of a cloth. Finding one at his desk, he cleans himself up and stuffs himself back in his breeches and laces them up. “Aureia, may I ask you a question?” he says.

“Of course,” she replies at once. “Anything.”

Aymeric pushes dark hair out of his eyes, his next words lingering on the tip of his tongue. He should say it. He needs to say it. Better to say it than to keep it locked within. “You have been different as of late,” he begins quietly. “Since the raid on Rhalgr’s Reach. I know how difficult it was for you—”

She sucks in a breath, short and sharp.

“—and I do not mean to pry into a place where I do not belong if you are not ready. But I must know what happened, if anything grievous happened at all beyond your injuries. And if my behaviour in the past months has unknowingly contributed or if my actions have caused offense, then I must offer every and all apologies I can—”

“It’s not you, Aymeric.” The coolness is tangible even through the linkpearl. “There’s nothing you need to apologize for.”

He pauses, hesitant to try again but determined to regardless. “Then—”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to talk about Zenos yae Galvus. I don’t want to talk about Rhalgr’s Reach. I have a personal vendetta against our common enemy and there’s nothing more to say about it than that. I’m fine.”

But you are not. You’re hurting and I don’t know how to help you. “Very well.”

“Aymeric?”

“Yes?”

The linkpearl hums. “Good morning.”

“Good night, Aureia. Sleep well.”

“I love you.”

The connection cuts off and he is alone in his office on the far side of the world.