#ffixv fanfic

[thevikingwoman]

Meryta gets a letter after defeating Tatiana

Fandom: FFXIV | Words: 987 | Read on Ao3

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

Meryta Khatin x Tansui | during The Wheel Turns | romance Rating: Teen. Letter writing, longing, fear of death, fear of change, Ardbert friendship, dealing or not dealing with feelings

Letters and Longing, part 2

Despite her fears, Meryta manages to slay Titania. The Light crawls inside her body after, but she tries to ignore it. There are more important matters. Feo Ul crowned king, Eulmorians driven away, and now they’re safely back at the Crystarium, one unwelcome Ascian tagging after them.

She doesn’t think of him, not when an excited post moogle finds her on the way to the Pendants. It hands her a letter, her name scrawled on the front, along with a message across the back:

This better reach you, with the outrageous fee the moogle charged. There’s only so many ships in the sea

She laughs, sudden relief and happiness bubbling in her chest. Nodding at the attendant, she hurries up the stairs to her apartment, and sits on her bed, ignoring the table decked with food. She rips the letter open with a smile.

Dear Meryta

Glad I was to hear from you. Surprised too, given what you told me of your whereabouts, but the moogle assured me a special friend would help with a return post. I pray this finds you, somehow.  I hope your fight goes well, as it customarily does. It is too much to ask, I suppose, that calmer waters await you, but I do wish for it. Here, things are much the same as usual. We have not had an influx of recruits since the last one, many staking their hopes on Doma restored. With the recent bolstering, we are not of want for people, and the Captain sets his hopes for profit along with a strong and allied Doma. Your friend, Lord Hien, does well in bringing together the most unlikely allies, I must say. Rasho has decided that I should play envoy, so I do travel to the enclave, which continues to thrive I may add.

We have not seen a swell in the Garlean ships, but I do thank you for the warning. We will keep a look out for unsavory behavior – more unsavory than our own, that is.

But, enough about that.

Please, Meryta, I wish you well for all your upcoming fights. I can only imagine they will be frightfully many. I hope to hear from you soon.

I likewise wish for you to be back with me. I will happily cook for you again, and see you back in my bed.

Stay safe,

Tansui

Her heart warms as she reads it, and her cheeks as well, at the last part. She misses him. His wit, his eyes and his hands on her. The way he listens to her.

There’s a long sigh from across the room, and when she looks up from the letter, Ardbert is there, an almost impatient look on his face.

“Happy news?”

“Yes.” She looks down at the letter, where it’s signed. She runs her thumb across his name. “Welcome news.”

“Someone you care about, then? Someone who cares about you too, I take it. Lucky.”

“Something like that, yes.” She does care about him, rather much she finds. An unfamiliar ache in her chest. The longing she feels for him is unfamiliar somehow, different from how she longs for her family, her friends.

“Really? Don’t waste your time pondering.”

“I suppose not.”

“Are you going to write them back? You should.” Ardbert gestures to the table, and the food she didn’t notice when she entered. She was too eager to open the letter, she realizes. “Got some nice food here too. He’s keeping you well fed, the Exarch.”

She nods and sites and eats and talks a little more with Ardbert, of Ascians, but of Seto too, and much more. It’s nice, and the food is good. When the conversation lulls, she starts writing. Ardberd does not have to remind her, but he smiles encouragingly when she fetches her parchment, and implores her to write now, not later, before he fades into – wherever he goes when he’s not hovering.

This time she writes not only Tansui, but manages short letters to Tataru, her family, and Emmanellain too. Tansui’s letter is the longest, and though she tells of her victory, it’s the only one where she doesn’t downplay the danger she’s in. He already knows how she feels, and he deserves to know all. She wants him to know. The extra aether is still swirling inside her, good food and good conversion and the happiness of correspondence can’t stop that.  It’s a relief to be able to say all that’s on her mind.

She also tells of the good things, a little of the people at the Crystarium. The hope she sees in everyone, even as she leaves out her own role, in the myth people are starting to spin. They don’t know it’s her, and she doesn’t want to call herself some kind of hero, least of all to him. She writes of mundane things, of Frithrik and Moren and asks about the people in Onokoro. If she closes her eyes, she can almost feel the sea breeze.

Hand aching, she’s happy she took the time to write, to all of them. It is easier this time, and she worries less about messing it up – and it’s easier to write of a victory than of worries. She’ll worry about the other Lightwardens another time, and perhaps the Light inside of her will dissipate, perhaps this feeling of dread will too. She won again, and she shakes her head to dismiss the thoughts of the next battle and the next again. She finds she’d rather think of Tansui, of warm sand and sea, of the fumes of Hell’s Lid and the setting sun. Tomorrow will bring what it must. Pleased, she bundles her letters, and she goes to send them immediately instead of waiting for the morrow. She hopes they reach everyone soon, and sending them now is better than later. She’s not so tired that she can’t handle a few stairs.

[randomsquirrel]

Lys's ARR story has concluded, next time he shall strive ever heavensward! :)

A Song of Memories: After the Fallen Meteor Chapter 71: Stay With Me (NSFW)

And with this update Lysander has completed "patch 2.0." Time to spend time with the Scions as he recovers before they start looking for a new base of operations.

A Song of Memories: After the Fallen Meteor

Chapter 31: Aftermath, Aftercare, Afterwards

If you aren't caught up or have fallen behind, here's the first chapter to get you started!

Chapter 1: Many Things Lost

[sweet-phantasmagoria-blog]

My Point is: We Can Shape Our Destiny

At the least, he did not seem trustworthy...

“It's destiny calling, it has to be. Besides, I can trust him to be untrustworthy, which is no more or less than I can trust anyone else.”

A flame was struck, sending the small worn room into faded illumination. The candle wick took the fire slowly like a nervous lover, but in a moment embraced the tiny flame until it burned steadily. Deja snapped her fingers lightly in the direction of the next wick – this one greedy – hungry for it, taking the fire before it had fully formed. When all three of the mismatched candles on the tiny cluttered desk had been given life, the little room – what she called her study – glowed warmly if not humble.

In the light she could make out her reflection in a dusty cracked hanging mirror, a blonde and colder version of herself, something so very her and yet in so many ways not. The voice had always been with her, her own but not hers. Though, since the ritual that had taken so much, Deja had been able to see her too, this other her that kept her safe and always knew so much more than she. The other her who seemed to hate and love always in the same breath, whispering advice and reminding Deja of the many sins that carried her forward, tempering her in the stuff of strength so she might do what needed to be done. And now, a warning, but one that Deja knew she was not able to heed.

And if he takes you 'somewhere private' and siphons your aether... or worse? He knows what you are, after all. And he is much stronger than you. It's obvious.

Tilting the small mirror so she could see it from across the room, Deja looked at the cold contempt of her reflection before padding across the floor and taking a seat lightly on the side of her bed. “He won't.” At least, it would be a lot of effort for less reward, if he did.

Unwrapping with delicate care the leather-banded gloves from her hands and wrists, Deja gave her head a shake as her lips turned up in the barest smile. He'd been right, the enigmatic Mr. Thotep, they really were impractical. But, she loved the look of the jet black bands against her pallor white skin, and so the gloves would stay until such a time she she grew bored with them.

Because the last time you trusted blindly things worked out oh-so-very well for us, didn't they?

Deja sighed, “no,” they had not.

Setting the leather gently onto the knit bedspread, she curled her legs up under her and glanced back to the mirror. “If that's what he wanted, there are easier ways.” What seemed more likely was that his offer was earnest in that he needed someone to collect on those mysterious contracts he'd spoken of and do his bidding as he needed it done. What worried her was not his initial intentions, it was what would be in the contract that she herself would have to sign. It was a hard lesson, but she'd learned that men who spoke and held themselves as he did always had an agenda buried in an agenda, wrapped inside another. The trick, Deja wagered was making that benefit herself for as long as she could before the time came for him to collect. And really, wasn't that meant to be her fate anyway? Best she at least walk into it on her own terms.

He's a liar. He's selling you a twisted fate-

Fate is fate. We're out of tombs, we've no other prospects at all, we're learning nothing new, and we're broke. If we don't do this, we'll have to leave Ul'dah, everything will have been for nothing, and I'm not going back.”

The reflection watched her in frozen judgment. You're leading us towards a damned fate, not the destiny we want. I promise you, that.

Another sigh, this one bringing with it the agony of so much bitter truth. “My fate is going to be what it is. I'd like to attain our goals in the meantime.”

Silence.

“My point is, we can shape our destiny, but none of us get to escape our fate.”

Stupid little girl.

The reflection faded as Deja stretched back on the bed closing her eyes as she thought of contracts, lies, and the strange man in the suit selling something she had not even yet began to realize.