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spinneryesteryear · 2 years ago

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Shadowbringers Reactions

- finally transcribing the notes I took while playing through 5.0 three years ago and posting them here so I can find them again later. For context’s sake, I played through SHB on DRK.

-- honestly, who DIDN’T already know that was G’raha Tia?

-- he’s like half my character’s height and several years younger. So tempted to channel my inner mom/big sister friend and ask him if he knows how much trouble he’s caused. Buuuuuut I also don’t want to be too harsh on him bc he seems lonely and desperate for help. (Sorry, G’raha, but if you have a crush on me, you’re outta luck bc Sidurgu is my husband and I’m not cheating on him for some mere catboy, no matter how adorable.)

-- so glad the first Viera we meet is professional and properly clothed. So glad.

-- thank u G’raha for actually giving directions. Now if only the quest markers were taken away and we had to fumble our way through an unfamiliar city like in Morrowind haha

-- I just met Moren but he’s adorable and I hope nothing bad happens to him (*hollow laughter*)

-- G’RAHA U LITTLE S*** I KNOW IT’S YOU DON’T LIE TO ME

-- I suppppooooooooose they could want use to theorize that it’s G’raha’s body puppeted by some ancient Allagan archmagus like that one girl possessed by Noah who appears in Mor Dhona after you complete the Crystal Tower storyling, but lbr we all know it’s G’raha Tia and nobody did that quest Noah gave anyway

-- NOOOOOOOO NOT POETICS AGAIN

-- that is not at all the voice I expected from Feo Ul but it seems fitting. Still don’t wanna make a pact, tho. I fear the fae, quite rightly

-- pixie duuuuuuuuuuust!

-- where’s my option to have Feo Ul tell my husband and kids I’m alive and well?

-- ngl I kept expecting making a pact with a fay to backfire on us horribly and so I was side-eyeing Feo Ul something fierce all the way to lvl 79 in anticipation of betrayal or sudden shrubbery

-- ARBERT I LOVE YOU

-- okay so like if dark knights can summon Fray can we summon Arbert as some sort of ‘inner light’ bc that would be awesome

-- my inn room looks like a train station

-- instant suspicion: meol is somehow cannibalism

-- Alphinaud may have better financial sense now but he’s no better at stealth

-- *wandering around Kholusia* imagine how embarrassing of a death it would be for a lvl 70 to die pecked to death by toucans

-- those red and blue jongleurs are going to be boss fights, aren’t they? I remember the twins from the Ghimlyt Dark

-- Alphinaud once again demonstrates a greater sense of justice than tact

-- I genuinely have no idea how we’re going to get out of this situation in Eulmore

-- Vauthry giving me Aldrich Devourer of Gods vibes here

-- just let me go full Fray on this fatty already

-- so, wait, just HOW did we get out of Eulmore without having to fight anyone trying to detain us?? Did they seriously not try to stop us in any way???

-- that’s *definitely* not the voice I expected to hear from a kobold (Ghen Gen)

-- well, a Sin Eater transformation is suitably horrifying. Why did I watch this cutscene right before going to sleep. Why. (Flashbacks to Nina & Alexander in FMA.)

-- so... are black mages and white mages wholly to blame for the flood or was it mainly due to another shard getting swamped with water? Also was the 7th calamity of ice, seeing what befell Ishgard? (HC: Nidhogg hijacked some of the Calamity’s aetheric fallout to blanket Coerthas in snow. He cnaonically controlls the weather and aether around the Aery, so why not?)

-- I SPLIT OPEN THE SKY AND RESTORED THE NIGHT AHHHHHHHHH

-- Ardbert making a cameo in the background like a lil warrior lightbulb

-- so apparently they’ve revealed the ‘true’ names of the Warriors of Darkness, after I went to the effort of memorizing their original names on the Source :|

-- so does Ran’jit mean beastmaster is confirmed as a future job? or is he just a monk with a pet flying snake?

-- YAAAAAS THANCRED

-- why do these villains thing they can beat me down so effortlessly when I do the duty on DRK and keep up my health just fine until the fail-safe OHKO kicks in (basically Zenos only defeated me the first time bc I went AFK for dinner)

-- the Crystal Exarch makes me like Allagan stuff for the first time

-- I distract myself from wanting to punch Solus in the face by mentally comparing his hi-poly model to the lower-poly models of everyone else around him (that cutscene with Varis was particularly jarring in this regard) and laughing to myself

-- okay so the pixies are just straight up fae folk, yikes yikes yikes

-- I laugh so hard every time the camera does its ‘pan from multiple angles’ thing to show off a character’s new outfit. Especially when it’s Urianger.

-- so in Urianger’s vision of the future the WoL apparently goes down next to Alphinaud and Alisaie and, man, it just makes my heart hurt to see the three corpses lying together like that. Especially since my character is the total mom friend and has reluctantly come to consider them both almost as her own kids.

-- it IS interesting that Urianger and Alisaie always address each other first/have the most interactions

-- Alphinaud be like ‘at LAST, someone else who cannot swim and can help me bear the brunt of Alisaie’s teasing!’ and Urianger be like ‘Imma just waterwalk’

-- I like Dohn Mheg

-- they’re really amping up the horror aspect with these Sin Eaters and Lightwardens, huh

-- so I’m guessing the Nu Mou are brownies or smth

-- brb sobbing over Seto and Ardbert

-- heck yeah, protective dad Thancred for the win. The unusual camera angles (for FFXIV) really sold how furious he was at Ran’jit

-- the fae defeating Ran’jit’s forces is such a mix of eucatastrophic and horrifying that I don’t know how to quantify or qualify it further

-- the fairies are genuinely fae in all of their eldritch rule-bound glory (or horror) and I am enjoying the novelty just as much as I wish to avoid them

-- ah, yes, Miinfillia makes a good addition to my collection of magical blond daughters (Sylphie, Rielle, Gatty, etc.)

-- so is Emet-Selch just throwing a tantrum or is he trying to manipulate us further. I’m assuming the latter. I’m also assuming the ‘Emet’ comes from the Hebrew ‘emeth’ ‘truth’. And I still want to punch him in the face. His rhetoric does not impress me.

-- I keep reading his name as ‘Emet-Selech’ to match the Biblical ‘Ebed-Melech’ but I guess that’s just the Catholic in me

-- Urianger going all-out Yu-Gi-Oh here, throwing cards at people like Seto Kaiba

-- I am greatly enjoying Urianger’s updated hi-poly model, i must say

-- Ardbert is #1 best bro, hands down

-- DON’T EVEN BREATHE IN G’RAHA’S DIRECTION, YOU ASCIAN CRETIN

-- nah, man, I’d greattly prefer to beat up Ascians again. It’s like annihilating worlds wins you few friends and less good will, wow.

-- does Thancred now have, like, Ascian radar? He’s the first to react when E-S pops up in our vicinity. I would not be surprised if Lahabrea’s possession of him had its lingering efffects

-- LAAAAA-HEEEE

-- Emet-Selch talks about conquering nations as his ‘halcyon days’ and then wonders aloud why we don’t want his commentary

-- “Uh... kupo?” Sorry, I had to do it. I don’t actually hate moogles quiiiiite as much as I pretend to, although I do hate them (I’m sorry, Sidurgu; I have failed you *sobs*) and I naively assumed humor would dispel some of the tension. Thancred’s reaction was great, too (hearkens back to his frustrated, “All right, who triggered the obvious trap?” in the Ala Mhigan Saltery.)

-- I will gladly bore you any day, Emet-Selch!

-- I prefer Lahabrea too, Thancred, Never thought I would see the day.

-- the Echo flashback of Ardbert and Lamitt meeting was so beautiful and pure in the most painful way

-- I shouldn’t laugh at Granson. He does have a sad past. But he’s trying to shard to be edgy, it just amuses me. Sid manages to be edgy even when surrounded by moggles and small children - AND there’s so much more to him than that. At least Granson has a nice coat.

-- getting real invested in this father/daughter relationship between Thancred and Mini-fillia here

-- I was genuinely moved by that funeral. I’m gonna have Thoughts when I finish SHB on how we as the Warrior of Darkness are embodying essentially their religion’s (benevolent) Angel of Death to restore order to the world and ensure souls pass peacefully to the afterlife. Because, like, I already got chills.

-- a day in the life of Indiana Jones (again)

-- I just kinda figured that Y’shtola pulled some wacky magic trick out of her pocket as she always does and Flow’d herself to some random place again so this part didn’t even emotionally affect me other than, “Not *again*.”

-- called it

-- since AST has that Gravity spell I’m going to assume that’s how Urianger froze Ran’jit midair and also how Thancred and the WoL got back to the other side of the bottomless pit. Because we learned in Dohn Mheg that Rescue doesn’t work across chasms or on hostiles.

-- Thancred’s utter disdain for Emet-Selch gives me life

-- like why the heck does he want our trust so badly, anyway

-- at least Y’shtola got clothes this time

-- still kinda miffed at her for being reckless, even if my character just smiled and nodded to keep the convo and plot moving along

-- how do I get Urianger and Alphinaud to keep me alive during large pulls??? Maybe I”m just doing DRK wrong, idk man

-- primal!Hydaelyn theory confirmed

-- still emotional over the Night’s Blessed religion because it actually strikes me as, y’know, an actual religion

-- Y’shtola, looking at her massive pile of books: “Oh, no, I’ve become my mother...”

-- I look forward to returning to the Crystarium to speak to my no. 1 best bro, Ardbert (nope, not G’raha)

-- Estinien and Gaius’s wacky wild Garlemald adventures

-- great, Zenos is more yandere than ever towards us

-- no, Mini-fillia! stay with Thancred!

- holy crap

-- noooooo, poor Ardbert trying so hard

-- yes, thank you, sad lonely remix of the expansion theme

-- Lyna’s voice actor out here killing it

--oh, great, a tub of lard on a blimp. How does it take off with him on board? Or is it just a recording of his voice? The latter seems more likely

-- Thancred’s just concerned about Mini-fillia being worried - lol, don’t think I haven’t seen this I’m-totally-being-a-dad-without-realizing-I’m-a-parent behavior before with Sidurgu

-- Emet-Selch just lurking in the background like the terrible skunk man he is, ready to further the drama

- oh NOOOOOOOO NO NO NO

-- this is truly the most delicious and painful of angst

-- I’m just like constantly lowkey screaming over Thancred and Mini-fillia

-- my character yet again having to give parenting advice to a white-haired tank

-- yay, more hours of running around alternate dimension Camp Drybone

-- so like what’s up with Ran’jit’s darkened sclera?

- AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH

-- oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh

-- NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

-- BRB I’M SOBBING

-- IMMEDIATELY followed by watching the Warriors of Darkness sacrifice themselves (again) to help stop the Floor by absorbing enough light to become top-tier Sin Eaters, holy crap

-- Ardbert begging Minfillia to let him sacrifice himself as well, holy crap I’m sobbing

-- THANK THE TWELVE

-- Alisaie dragging Alphainaud for stating the obvious for the benefit of the dullards

-- happy tears now

-- everyone else looks at you when you approach but Thancred and Ryne are still watching each other *clutches heart*

-- wait... Ran’jit didn’t die... is HE the Lightwarden? *dons tinfoil hat*

-- doing trials w/trust system would be wild

-- how appropriate is it that we fight Storge after this development between Thancred and Ryne?

-- Malikah’s Well is easy to tank tbh

-- how exactly is everyone continuing to exist as fragments a greater tragedy than murdering millions, Emet-Selch? Hmm? I don’t care how pretty your borrowed face is or how sad you sound, I’m not impressed.

-- welp, I knew something fishy was up with the meol from the start. How exactly do the Sin Easter produce enough to feed everyone, though?

-- so is Vauthry like a light-elemental primal now? is he tempering people?

-- he’s actually much less violent than I expected, however. He’s not calling for our heads, just that we be kept away from him. Huh.

-- okay, what’s up w/Ran’jit’s final words? is he talking to past Minfillias?

-- where are Vauthry’s Sin Eaters?? Let’s not make the same mistake we made outside the Vault and attack w/o checking where all of the big bad’s minions are

-- oh, look, he has a boob face like Edo Tensei Madara. How nice. Except this one has glowing eyes.

-- wouldn’t the manacutters work in this environment? Or does ‘abundance of light’ not equal ‘abundance of aether’? Oh, it’s for safety reasons. Seems fair.

-- Alphinaud has to give at least one (1) dramatic speech per expansion, doesn’t he? Or even per patch, maybe

-- Chai-Nuzz be like, “Did my wife just sign me up for this?”

-- hello, yes, I love the Chai’s

-- LALI-HO!

-- the dwarves kinda remind me of the Jawas from Star Wars, except with helmets and visible beards

-- if Norvrandt had trains, Jeryk would totally be a train fanatic

-- are we turning this giant Talos into a primal? That’d be the sort of thing we would totally do by accident *cough Susano cough*

-- I can’t help it, I crack up every time the shoebill running gag appears

-- G’raha, I remember what happened the last time an Important NPC had a crush on me. Don’t die on me now. You’ve let slip some alarming hints, and no matter how irked I am by your secrecy I don’t want someone else dying in my arms.

-- what am I gonna do after all this is over? Go home to Ishgard and see my husband and kids

-- SORRY G’RAHA I’M MARRIED

-- Mt. Gulg actually has a rather tasteful palace

-- DRK is great. Don’t know what that boss move does? TBN. Don’t feel like moving out of an AOE? TBN. Party member gets hit w/stack marker and you don’t wanna move? TBN.

-- Innocence gets me in the Catholic by giving me St.-Michael-depicted-in-art vibes and that kinda makes me uncomfortable in a ‘this is something holy that has been perverted’ sort of way

-- yes, mayor dude, trust the creepy dude in black robes who teleported into your chambers w/o warning and proposed drastic magical experimentation on your unborn child for political gain

-- but Urianger, you have no sleeves

-- G’raha, you’re trying too hard to lie, and Urianger’s emotion gives you away anyway

-- THE MUSIC AAAAUUUUGHHHHH

-- Emet-Selch w/a gun is just the most random thing

-- can we just harness our light, leap on him, and eat his soul like in Skyrim? Maybe his darkness would balance things out?

-- why does anyone like this skunk man anyway

-- he didn’t invest all that much time or energy in us. It’s not as if he joined us in fetch quests or dungeons or anything. (Editor’s Note: EW says hello.)

-- wait... how is Elidibus keeping Zenos’s corpse from rotting? Or is it ‘alive’ now that it has a soul to occupy it?

-- doing that Crystarium/Lakeland sidequest chain with the elf soldier who has PTSD right after waking up from the Innocence fight was an inspired, if accidental, decision

-- ngl, the healer role quests are actually kinda sad. Also, Giott is best girl

-- I love Feo Ul. The music when we finally remember to call their name made me smile, it’s so triumphant and joyful right after some sad and heavy story developments.

-- haha those two dudes watching Bismarck’s dive

-- lol Grenoldt is Gerolt with hair

-- Granson is TOO edgy

-- I love how they demonstrated that Tadric is evil with a think black scale moustache.He’s also an inferior black mage because his hat isn’t pointy enough.

-- who else finds it interesting that Voeburtite’s royalty are white-haired, white-skinned Xaela when the only one who fits that description in Ishgard is Sidurgu? Am I thinking too deeply into this?

-- Auri princess turns into quasi-Elezen Sin Eater. Yup. Makes perfect sense.

-- okay, Granson, you’ve finally grown on me. Brandon’s character arc had an effect on him. And Sul Oul was wonderfully patient with him. And we can turn Granson’s favored form of address right back on him, haha.

-- I hit 80 DRK in the middle of a FATE in the Tempest and first summoned Fray to fight some jellyfish. I’m 100% certain he was cussing me out for that.

-- so Ascians/Amaurotines speak the Alltongue, okay

-- the helpful robed giant is at once creepy and soothing, idk. I’m calling ghost shenanigans

-- yup

-- sad piano music like smth outta KH

-- soooo the Final Days phenomenon emerged from deep within the earth and hijacked the Amaurotines’ creation powers to give life to their worst nightmares? And their plan was to give *will* to the very earth itself? Hmmmm.

-- I wonder how efficient and/or beneficent the Amaurotine bureaucracy really was. The very title ‘Concept Clerk’ unnerved me. And this disdain for ‘cultivated individuality’ when all Amaurotines wear the same hooded robes and masks unless they’re official figures... Emet-Selch *does* know St. Thomas More wrote Utopia as a parody, right? These places that purport to be utopias seem to inherently devolve into dystopias of various sorts.

-- “To delight in disparity is a mark of the morally deficient.” *shudders*

-- “The eyes of the collective are ever watching and weighing your worth.” *shudders harder*

-- okay, creepy communist ghost Amaurotines, hiding their distorted worldviews behind civility and smug notions of equality

-- The problem with dialog choices is that sometimes you want to pick both. Yes, but also no. No, but also yes. Go not to the Elves for counsel.

-- Amaurot has a vaguely Art Deco, turn-of-the-century big city feel to it IMHO

-- I’m a max-height Roegadame at 7′3″ and I’m not quite half the height of these Amaurotines. I can only imagine what Lalafells look like next to the them. They must be the size of newborns, maybe toddlers.

-- ...*did* the Amaurotines even procreate normally? Did they design their own children? Have to apply for a concept permission slip to have children? I mean, children at least seem to have existed in their society, based on reactions the WoL garners, but my mind is swamped with other horrible potential implications

- so you can check out concepts like aetheric instructions and then make stuff. Is it just like a patent office, or do you usually need permission to make things?

-- who gets to pick which ideas further the greater good? That’s always a scary thought

-- as much as Amaurot instills a deep sense of dread in me, I’m actually rather enjoying it

-- the Addled Amaurotine’s design is going to try to kill me, isn’t it

-- oh, look, talking flans that poison me. yaaaaaaaaay

-- okay, which Amaurotine was responsible for these cubuses (cubi?), what exactly are they/what were they intended to be, and why are they infesting a public plaza? Do they just use them as free living aether sources? Do they have no ethical qualms with that?

-- were there no other sentient peoples during the time of the Amaurotines? And why can’t I stop mentally turning that name into ‘Ammonites’ or ‘Ammorites’?

-- gotta say, those glass-breaking and cocoon-crackling noises when we have an episode are pretty worrisome

-- Thancred’s not usually this openly sentimental, so his words in front of the Capitol hit the hardest. Plus, he’s the Scion I’ve trusted the most this expansion to be the sensible one, my fellow tank whom I trust as the Responsible Other Person in the party and whose judgment of the situation I rely on the most.

-- Emet-Selch’s amity is entirely dependent on us being exactly what he wants us to be, and players still love him?

-- whoo, Y’shtola being savage as usual

-- still don’t know exactly why Zodiark would offer the Amaurotines a refund of the souls he initially consumed, especially when all the supposedly lesser mortals would be a poor compensation. Appeasing a dictator leads to a black hole. What would Zodiark demand next? What then?

-- y’know, Emet, possibly people want to stop you for a reason. People don’t exactly WANT to be sacrificed to an evil god. He claims to be so superior but he fails to understand humanity. I don’t care how emotional he gets. I’d actually claim the Amaurotines were spiritually and mentally *lesser* for not having to deal with mortality the same as the rest of us.

-- we don’t have to be entrusted with the Amaurotine legacy. We just want to live.

-- let me punch him in the face

-- somewhere in the Sil or HoME the Ainur/Valar are described as “greater in majesty but equal in dignity” to other sentient souls and honestly that’s why I trust only good Catholics to write this sort of existential philosophy

-- yes, because magical power determines the worth of a soul. Emet-Selch is an ableist, plain and simple. Why can no one see this

-- move along, just an eternal child throwing a hissy fit, nothing to see here

-- the guy unable to manipulate aether actually got physically the closest to landing a hit on Emet-Selch; if that isn’t irony at its most beautiful, I don’t know what is

-- so I started crying when Ardbert offered me his axe and the main theme kicked in

-- Hades was fun, in the sense that we wiped several times but demonstrably learned. And I loved the chance to throw around my high-level spells and not cast a single Cure II

-- heck yeah Thancred

-- gonna assume he was chosen (in a Doylist sense) for that role with the white auracite for his inability to manipulate aether, ability to pull off crazy sword parkour, and his white coat literally being a beacon in Hades’s darkness

-- couldn’t help but hear Emet-Selch’s plea to be remembered in Mufasa’s voice

-- okay, this music with the admonition to “stand tall” is making me cry

-- I don’t condone your actions and behavior, G’raha, but I forgive you

--I’m liking the WHM AF4 gear, might not glamour over it for a while. No ridiculous stiff lace collar, no random uncovered shoulder, yes a floor-length skirt, no healer panties/bootyshorts/visible thigh. It’s great. I love the traditional AF1 gear, but this silhouette is very nice as well. It gives my character more of the motherly feel she’s earned.

-- hello, yes, I still love the CHai’s

-- we get washed out on the shore like Jonah spat out of the whale’s belly

-- the running saga of Alphinaud’s (and Urianger’s) inability to swim, haha

-- so, wait, Mt. Gulg is gonna fall one day and we’re just gonna leave it in the sky? If I learned anything from Lie Rock in Morrowind, it’s that mini floating moons are a BAD idea.

-- AAAAAAUUUUUUGGHHHHHH, Ardbert reuniting with his old comrades

-- yep, let’s quote “Answers”, not like it will make me cry or anything

-- aaaaand here comes the expansion theme to finish the job on my emotions

-- lol, Urianger refuses to learn how to swim, instead decides to learn magical waterwalking or how to part the sea like Moses

-- HAHAHAHAHA Thancred was going to have a drink but Urianger dragged him by naming all his drunken conquests so he just had water instead. Water. Pffffft.

-- Y’shtola has one move and that is: SAVAGE

-- despite his kidnapping of our friends and spying on us unseen without our consent, G’raha is GENERALLY an exception to that ‘Red Eyes, Take Warning’ rule

-- oh, yeah, what nonsense are Estinien and Gaius engaged in?

-- lol, Estinien is not the Leeroy Jenkins for once

-- so Imma assume Zenos got his body back and killed his dad? Ah, yep. Yay, we’ll get to deal with our yandere ‘friend’ again

-- dang, Gaius’s gunblade is as long as a DRK greatsword; I assume it has rifling for bullets? Is it feasible as a long-range weapon?

-- pls don’t let Zenos mantle Zodiark and the WoL mantle Hydaelyn

-- nice cliffhanger, Squeenix

-- Estinien watching this alll like ‘dude wtf’

-- I’m not the only one to theorize that Estinien still carries Nidhogg’s soul in some fashion and that he thereby can’t be tempered; pls let us have him in the trust system 2021, idec if he steals LB and yeets into AOE’s like ALisaie, I want the man who embodied the rancor of freaking Bahamut’s brother and survived on my side

-- gotta buy this soundtrack asap

-- had to troll G’raha by immediately popping back to the First. Had to.

-- y’know, I wouldn’t be mad if in a future expansion they gave fewer new lands and instead expanded the old ARR maps and unlocked flying for them

-- lol I REALLY need to hear the story of how Tataru and Krile strong-armed Estinien into working for them

-- Elidibus now on the moon like, “All my friends are dead.” I still wanna know why he wears white (and if it’s because he’s ‘Emissary’, what’s the importance of that title?)

-- how is the body Elidibus stole breathing on the moon??!! Or does he always just grab corpses and reanimate them? But if he revived Zenos’s corpse and revived this one, still how is it breathing? Does Zodiark’s moon have a thin atmosphere? or is it just another ‘aether’ handwave?

-- just discovered this galaxy-brain theory: the Amdapor gremlins are actually sin eaters, confused as voidsent by the Souce

DRK 80 -- *checks in on the husband* Hoo boy, looks like our daughter is definitely entering her teenage years -- Fray, I swear if you make me pay all these teleport fees for no reason... -- DUDE, IT’S *THAT* GUY -- redemption for the arrogant merchant guy who so spectacularly angered Fray? And in this wholesome way? Dark knight is best knight, confirmed once again

WHM 80 -- it’s Alaqa! I’ve missed her! (Yes, I actually cared about WHM 50 - 60, shut up.) It’s great to see she’s getting along with my other two magical blond daughters. -- ‘mister smashy branches’ is the best name ever; I will now call all treants that. Thank you, my magical blond daughter #1. -- secret wish: A-Towa Cant to reappear, just to complete things -- but I get girls’ day out w/smashing tree monsters and appeasing bloodthirsty forest spirits instead, so that’s just as good.

MELEE/PHYS RANGED ROLE QUESTS -- *starting the questline * Tbh, I like Lue-Reeq even less than Granson. *finishing questlie* He’s still a little idiot, but he’s trying now.l He gets headpats. Reeq >>> Kai-Shirr. -- ngl, seeing Ardbert charge out of the forest to Renda-Rae’s rescue during that roleplaying sequence just about brought a tear to my eye. I love him so much. He is #1 best bro.

CRYSTALLINE MEAN -- ALC/CUL deifnitely has the best story. Eismon and Thiuna are also faves, but Bethric was amazing. -- The MIN/BTN questline was also good. I felt like a paleontologist or zoologist for the day. -- clearly, the Loch NEss monster also employs glamours to hide itself -- FSH: The Importance of Nutrition (starring simultaneous Shakespeare and Star Trek references; Koji, you sly Fox) -- ALCH/CUL: Don’t Mess With The Alchemist -- LTW/CRP/WVR: Man Does Not Live On Bread Alone -- MIN/BTN: Life, Uh, Finds A Way -- The Mean capstone quest made me tear up, I admit.

BOZJA -- Bajsaljen has manificent whiskers. At least, I assume they’re whiskers. I’m also interested by an authority figure who’s a medic rather than a warrior... not that I expect anything to come of it, story-wise. -- The Gangos BGM is so good. -- Cid has such a good heart. He’s been one of our staunchest and most longterm allies, and imho he’s a little underappreciated because he is in fact so reliable. -- He’s also tiny compared to other Garleans. I suspect 1.0 limitations.

#FFXIV #Spinner plays games #Spinner plays FFXIV #Spinner reacts #blah blah blah

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minarcana · 1 year ago

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Urianger huffs, exhale coming out cloudy in the cold. "In a land without gods, folklore of ghost or monster telleth just as much of the citizen's values and fears." So ghost stories are relevant, please. "And I like not at all the shape of construction that beginneth to loom o'er the land." He just can't place what else is so strange about all of this, so shadows seem ever more ominous in the corners of his sight. He doesn't wish to be far from Thancred, as if he weren't near him, it would mean Thancred were alone.

And whatever is so wrong in this place, it would not do well to be alone here. Gloved fingers close around Thancred's hand as Urianger leans against him. Is he too close? Thancred's withdrawn just a slight bit since they returned to the Source, but Urianger hasn't been told to step back. And it's better to be close to another in this weather. "The aether here is discomposing, but stars stand stalwart in the firmament, unchanged despite aught happening below. So doth my magic remain at hand. Though I find myself much spoiled by the fair weather of the First and Thanalan, perhaps." As if this tundra is no different from a usual Eorzean winter.

He's more worried for Thancred than he is for himself, though much of that stems from: "Still doth it boggle the mind to think that thou wirt intending to strike forth here alone." Deal with the ice by himself, deal with having to ration his cartridges, deal with the night that lasts hours past when the sun is expected. This whole place makes Urianger... melancholic, perhaps, apprehensive. "Though I hope mine presence doth not delay thee. I have learned much of scouting these few days, at least." He squeezes Thancred's hand in his, maybe as a little bit of an apology for Urianger demanding he tag along.

Thancred listens with a little bemused expression, a hard edge to his furrowed brows softening as he turns his gaze from checking his belongings within the confines of his winter coat and to the elezen by the small heater.

"You've been reading too many ghost stories, Urianger." Thancred admonished with a huffed laugh as he moved within their small confined hiding spot, a hand resting at the other man's shoulder before he sunk close beside Urianger. Reaching over Thancred did fuss with Urianger's collar briefly, turning a curled edge so it properly stood to better keep him against the cold.

He could not deny the other though that the landscape felt haunted, and Thancred chalked it up to the open barrenness that the landscape cut. It was so cold, and the only thing that felt alive was hearing the strain of ice fields freezing that could be heard in a near other worldly groan across the snow.

He turned his gaze away from the small hole of the cave their contingent had hidden within and back to his... companion and allowed himself to hook his arm with the Astrologian, gloved hand seeking gloved hand. "Are you doing well?" he asked instead, looking up at him now that they were side by side they were almost of a height. He knew that this was not Urianger's common setting and Thancred did not want the stress of the covertness to weigh too heavily upon the man as they were moving during some of the coldest times of night to shelter their approach and the cold more so than any element had a way of hollowing one out.

#ic : urianger #whalefelled

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ladyramora · 6 years ago

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Hello! I love your writing sooooo much! I've been working my way through it since I found your blog a couple days ago. I was hoping for some headcanons for Wol X Haurchefant, Aymeric, Estinien, Alphinaud and Thancred. Their routine after they've been dating for a while?

(These turned out longer than I’d intended. Some more feels than fluff… *cough* Thancred! *cough* But I hope you like it. Please enjoy.)

- - -

Alphinaud

You spend lots of time in Alphinaud’s room. Watching him work, or draw, or just whiling away the hours in his company. Sometimes you will look up to find Alphinaud sketching in his sketchbook, - the one you are more than certain is filled with naught but drawings of you - and stealing glances at you as if he hopes you will not notice.

In the mornings, after your cuddle sessions, and when Alphinaud is sleepy and you far more alert, you will brush and braid his hair for him. On occasion indulging in your creative side to braid his hair in different styles. (Alphinaud will eventually find the guidebook of braided hairstyles that Jandelaine had lent to you.)

You are calm in the mornings. Touching one another easily. Alphinaud will help you with your boots. You will twirl his braid around your hand and give him his morning kiss.

Mid morning you will receive your duties for the day. Before departing you will pull Alphinaud away to a darkened corner to kiss him goodbye. Alphinaud will blush, of course. Mildly scolding that you not show such favoritism in front of the other Scions. You hardly contain the rolling of your eyes. The other Scions knew full well who you favored. It had been Alphinaud from the start.

Lunch is often spent apart. Gone are the days when Alphinaud was always in your company. You are not too embarrassed to admit that you miss spending so much time with him. Though Alphinaud was considerably less bossy now.

Ah, those days when Alphinaud would command you with that upturned nose in the air, finger raised to the sky as he quirked a pale eyebrow at you in classic Leveilleur snark. It only makes you smile now thinking of what a smug know-it-all he had been. You will remind Alphinaud of it later, to delight in the adorably embarrassed faces he will make.

At night, when you are tired from your daily tasks and adventures, Alphinaud will bring you dinner. It is rare that all the Scions are about to share a meal together, usually it is only you and Alphinaud. Sitting close and sharing meals.

Alphinaud will talk quietly with you. Tell you of his daily accomplishments, or express his relief that you are well. You will hold him close, kissing him sweetly and expressing your own same sentiments.

You will clear away your dishes as Alphinaud readies for bed. Taking your own turn in your shared washroom after and then helping Alphinaud to loosen his hair, dragging your fingers through the resulting waves. His kisses taste like toothpaste.

You go to bed, stroking your hands over his hair and back as Alphinaud presses an ear to your chest to listen to your heart. His fingers long and pale as they slip through the spaces of your own to grasp at your hand. You hold him close, pressing your lips to the top of his head. Thankful for tomorrow. For another day with Alphinaud.

Aymeric

You both are busy, of course. But it does not mean that you do not make time for one another. You often sleep at De Borel manor. Waking early in the morning to Aymeric’s kisses. Struggling for the will to leave the warmth of his arms.

You help him into his clothes. His gloves, his boots, his delicate earrings. Running your fingers through his gorgeous hair. Kissing those full, seductive lips that ever smiled for you.

You eat breakfast together, sitting close, or even on his lap, as Aymeric makes absolutely certain that you’ve been sufficiently fed before you leave him.

He kisses you, slow and sweet with lips that taste like birch syrup. Holding you in his embrace like he does not wish to let you go. He wishes you well in all the ways he is able, kissing you until you absolutely must go, and then watches you depart.

Some days you eat lunch with him, some not. But you always check in with Lucia or Handeloup to be sure that he had. Aymeric was wont to get caught up in his work and forget to eat. Never to take his tea though. A sweet tooth on that one. You make certain that his favored syrup never runs low. Leaving sweet treats you find in your travels with Lucia so that Aymeric might have something with his tea.

Night time finds you back at De Borel manor. If early, you eat dinner with him. Aymeric will offer you wine and ask about your day. Always interested in your daily life no matter how dull you claimed your day to be. He will smile and listen with chin in hand. Staring at you with those bewitching eyes of his.

If you were not already together you would claim he was seducing you. You still do, and watch as Aymeric laughs and then proceeds to lay on the charm so thick that you wonder why it took you so long to notice his interest before. Oh, right. Because he was absolutely gorgeous! You still have your suspicions that Aymeric had been sent to seduce you away from Hydaelyn. It was working. It was still working. Aymeric will laugh when you tell him of this.

If late, there will be a plate left for you. You try for early, but most nights you are very much late. You eat, wash away the sweat and grime of the day, and crawl into bed next to Aymeric carefully in hopes not to wake him. Either way he will curl himself around you, warm and sleepy. Murmuring sweet sentiment to you even as he is half asleep. He will fall asleep with lips pressed to your skin mid kiss. You stroke your fingers over his soft, gently curling hair until you, too, fall asleep.

Estinien

You will wake up more often than not with a certain Azure Dragoon wrapped around you. One that treats the idea of leaving bed before a certain time with extreme prejudice. If appropriately snuggled and kissed to his morning requirements, said Dragoon might be amenable to leaving bed to break fast with you.

Estinien has his own duties, yes. He is efficient in his handling of them. In a turn around of his earlier proclivity for vanishing without notice, Estinien will often be seen at your side. Reluctant to part with you. But he has his work, as do you, so with some grumbling and quite a few kisses will Estinien leave you.

Often will he return later in the day, in a flair of Dragoon jumping dramatics, with lunch for the two of you. You eat together, in high places where a flying mount would struggle to land. In grassy fields filled with bright blooms untouched by man. Estinien will sprawl across your lap, yawning and grumbling like a jungle cat after being thoroughly fed. You comb your fingers through his unbound hair, ever spellbound by his handsome face. Estinien will huff and mutter, demanding more kisses must you stare so. You happily oblige.

Night time finds you thoroughly exhausted. Despite your protests that you can walk fine on your own, Estinien will sweep you up into his arms and carry you. To his apartment or your own dwelling, it is a coin toss, really, as you are equally comfortable wherever Estinien decides to take you. You are most pleased to be allowed in Estinien’s own space, you admit. To be trusted with that knowledge.

You take turns making dinner depending on where you spend the night. Estinien is surprisingly talented in the culinary aspect, with a bonus of looking particularly fetching in an apron with his hair tied back loosely and his sleeves rolled up to the elbow. Effortlessly seductive, that man.

Well fed, and far more sleepy with it, you will take turns getting ready for bed. Helping one another with buckles and laces. Brushing out Estinien’s lovely, pale hair. Dressed (or not) for bed, Estinien with sweep you up again to tuck you in. Curling himself around you like a snuggly dragoon-shaped blanket. You kiss his face until Estinien turns it away in embarrassment, then directing your attention to raking your fingers through his hair. Whispering to him all the things you are thankful for. Estinien only ever replies that he is thankful for you.

Haurchefant

Your room and Haurchefant’s quickly become interchangeable at the Manor. Though you find yourself drawn more to his room than your own.

Spending your mornings curled together in his bed. Watching Haurchefant sleep as surely as he watches you. Kissing his face when it is time to wake. Keeping in him in bed far longer still as Haurchefant absolutely adores cuddling. He’ll not let you leave his arms until he’s decided you’ve been given a thorough morning kiss.

Dressing is a rush of activity as you try not to be late to breakfast for the umpteenth time. There is much stumbling and giggling, the swapping of boots and clothing. Shared kisses in between.

You are met with the mild reproach of Count Edmont when you finally make it to the breakfast table, the lord doing his best to hide his own softness at seeing his son so happy. Still he cannot hide his approval, and sends the both of you off after breakfast with a shooing motion, shaking his head with an exasperated smile.

You embrace again before parting for the day. Haurchefant cannot seem to help himself when it comes to doting on you in his every affectionate whim. Whether it be your cheek, your nose, your forehead or lips. He must give you a kiss and a packed lunch. He will tell you to open it later, as he always does. He will give you no hints, but the contents inside are usually a delicious lunch along with a sappy love note that never fails to make you smile.

You will try your hand at writing a same such note to him later as you devour your lunch, but crumple every one as they fall short of your actual feelings.

At night you will either make for Camp Dragonhead, or Fortemps Manor. Dragging Haurchefant away from the paperwork at his desk to eat with you, and then retire to bed. You massage his temples and ears, soothing away the stress of his day and melting your lord into a puddle of boneless elezen across your lap. He will often forget what he was saying mid sentence when you do that.

You show him how much you love him through kiss and caress, whispering your heart for his ears alone. Haurchefant is wont to become a little emotional, no matter how many times you tell him. He will tell you how much he loves you, in such a beautiful articulate, very much Haurchefant way. He makes you sound so much more than you are. You love him far too much.

You fall asleep in his arms. Laying your head on his chest to listen to his heart and allowing the sound to lull you into slumber.

Thancred

Thancred is always gone in the morning. Already awake, or perhaps unable to stay asleep. Still it is the smell of breakfast that wakes you. A tray of food - still hot enough to let curls of steam into the air - left at your bedside. There is always a note explaining his absence. Wishing you good morning. You would much prefer to wake in Thancred’s arms, but do not begrudge him his reasons.

You search for him after breakfast in hopes of a good morning kiss. Thancred is incredibly good at hiding, you only ever notice him last minute when he sneaks up on you. You know that he will sneak up on you, but are never prepared for the when. He will usually wait untill you are alone. Slinking from the shadows to embrace you from behind, inviting injury every time, and somehow escaping unscathed.

You will huff, swiping at him playfully, and give him his morning kiss. Thancred is smug, of course, whenever he successfully sneaks up on you.

It is rare that you get to spend your days just basking in one another’s company. On such days you will often find Thancred at your side. Showing you tricks he had learned. Allowing you the use of his lap as you both flipped through books of research at Urianger’s request. Sometimes even indulging in a midday nap where Thancred let you cuddle him to your heart’s content. These such moments are those you hold close to your heart.

Other days you will be kept apart by your duties, rarely needed in the same place with your differing skill sets. Though through personal linkpearl, or simply going out of his way, Thancred will make certain you’ve had time to eat. To rest for but a moment. That you do not push yourself in the same way that he did.

Dinner is usually with the Scions, as many as there are about not delayed still by their duties. There will be drink, laughter, and food. A time for you to unwind from the stresses of the day. Thancred does not drink like he used to, but does still playfully try his hand at finding a drink you favor. You indulge him if only to see his smile. It is far too rare these days.

At night, when Thancred believes you to be asleep, he will pull you into his arms and whisper almost inaudible apologies into your skin. Asking forgiveness for his past failures. You hide your face, listening in silence. You know he will not listen if you tell him there is naught to be forgiven. Thancred was the one who could not forgive himself. You pretend to wake, and curl yourself around him tighter. Wishing you could fight the inner demons that plagued Thsncred’s mind.

Thancred will ask if you had a bad dream. You will kiss him and tell him only that you missed him too much to stay asleep. Thancred laughs at the sappy notion, but for a time the light you bring to him will push back his dark thoughts. He will hold you close. Clinging tight like he was afraid you would disappear. You embrace him for as long as he will allow you, often falling asleep doing so. Thancred may be gone from your bed come morning, but he is never too far for you to find him again.

#ffxiv headcanons #elf husbands #thancred #ladyramora writes #alphinaud #aymeric #estinien #haurchefant #long post #wow they turned out long #was just trying to even it out lol #apologies for the thancred feels #i want him to be happy but i can't ignore his suffering either #i tried to be fluffy really i did #i hope you guys like it #i hope thancred seems ic

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lightblume · 2 years ago

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MAZE BY PIXIE LIGHT ( @porteurdereve )

Owing to the recent information told to her by Thancred which may or may not be true, Tsuru has found herself...indecisive on where she stands. Long has she wished for idle daydreams to become a reality, in varying measures but this one feels as though she's on thin ice. G'raha's feelings have always been an enigma to her, or perhaps they have always been noticeable and she simply never stopped to think about whether or not her own could ever be mutual. Plus, it wasn't as if she ever had the time to analyze their interactions, nor has she ever given any deep thought to his constant skittish behavior when around her as she believed that was owed to his admiration.

Now, however, it's hard not to second guess every exchange they've shared, each grazes of the skin, every time they'd shared more than just a passing look. While Tsuru has tried to be subtle with her affections, she wonders now if she's been as tenuous as she previously thought herself. That, and she wonders if Thancred is actually right. Because G'raha has given her pause on more than a few occasions now with some of his reactions. His stuttering, constantly flushed face, and overall bashful demeanor is put into a new perspective. One that she'd like to explore...from a cautious distance.

So, it seemed to her that from now on would be as good of a time as any to try to traverse the various complications that may or may not concern their relationship. Or at least try to. And in her first attempt, what better way to set the mood than to invite him to something that was supposed to be for couples? Thankfully, she'd taken the liberty of inviting him earlier to which he'd heartily accepted as she knew he would. The summer festival activities had been well underway in Cotes Ward, and plenty of people were still out and about even though the sun was setting and the night was beginning to set in.

Tsuru waits at the entrance to the hedge maze lights bouncing to and fro keeping adequate lighting, straightening out her summer dress as she waits. Finally, after some time, she sees G'raha looking just a little bit lost, but he manages to find his way to her after she waves to him. "I was starting to think you stood me up. Though I wouldn't blame you if so, I'm sure there are books that want for studying." She says, smiling at him. "Are you ready? The prize for this is simply splendid. And I've been hoping to try but haven't had the chance to."

"Oh, right. The prize is a crystal flower that is...traditionally exchanged between pixies who promise themselves to one another. And it signifies their promise to remain at each other's side forevermore. Romantic, isn't it?" Of course, she bats her eyelashes after saying so all the while studying G'raha's reaction.

#spiralefes2022 #don't mind me adding to our thread count it's fine we'll never have enough #also sorry g'raha she's putting you on the spot...just a little #trying to get a feel #porteurdereve #﹙ 🌸 ┋ g'raha tia.﹚

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autumnslance · 4 years ago

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((Shadowbringers 5.3-5.4. I wanted to have this done by the 15th of January but didn’t quite manage it because these two idiots are wordy as heck, and I initially started in the wrong place and POV. I wrote roughly 8000 words total and only ended up using half of them. There are letters and pining and admitting things happening here.

Below the cut as usual for those who prefer Tumblr to Ao3, but the formatting may work better on that site.))

Aeryn stepped through the mirror and into the familiar space of the Ocular, taking a moment to reorient herself after the rush of journeying between worlds. Once the vertigo had passed she left the Tower, the Crystarium guards greeting her as she crossed the Exedra. It took some questioning before she was finally pointed to where Ryne was currently; training with Captain Lyna just outside the city gates.

She simply watched for a time as Lyna tried to keep her distance while Ryne tried to close in. Aeryn did not announce herself, simply noting how Ryne’s bladework had improved, at least one new trick learned since the last time Aeryn had watched her fight.

“That is enough for now,” Lyna said as they reached a breakpoint in their dance. “And the Warrior of Darkness has waited long enough,” she continued with a wry smile in Aeryn’s direction.

Ryne started, then turned with a grin, hurrying over to give Aeryn a hug. “It’s good to see you! Oh sorry, I’m all sweaty…��

Aeryn laughed, brushing damp strands of hair from Ryne’s reddened face. It was still winter in Eorzea, but in Norvrandt spring was on the horizon and the morning was warm. “Not to worry. Hope you don’t mind the interruption.”

Lyna waved them off. “Go on; we can catch up later.”

Aeryn nodded, knowing the captain wanted word of her grandfather, and G’raha had given Aeryn a small package to deliver, but that would wait until Lyna was off duty and had readied herself. There was an order to such things with the stoic woman.

Instead, Aeryn turned back to Ryne and smiled. Had she gotten taller? “I have a question, if you’ll indulge me.”

“Of course!” Ryne answered as they walked across the bridge into the city. “What is it you need?”

“I have a note from Thancred; he and Urianger are currently on a mission, but he left me instructions for tod--well. The day it is back on the Source.”

“I see. What are the instructions?”

“I’m to ask you about the black willow box he kept in his room here.”

Ryne paused, a little sharp breath escaping. “Ryne?” Aeryn asked.

“Sorry! It’s just I was under strict instruction never to open the box, though I have the key now, of course; I still didn’t dare. It’s where he kept,” she hesitated.

“Kept what?”

“I’ll show you; it’s a good thing--I think--that he wants you to see. Come on!” Ryne dashed toward her apartment as if she hadn’t just completed a long practice session with the captain of the guard. Aeryn picked up her own pace to follow along after.

It did not take long for them to reach the apartment Ryne used to share with Thancred. As the girl opened the door, Aeryn realized it was the first time she had returned to these rooms since the Scions’ departure from the First. It was much as she remembered, though lacking Thancred’s continued presence. Evidence of Gaia’s frequent visits were visible instead, from lipstick-stained coffee mugs at the sink to dark ribbons left on an end table to a book that did not seem to be to Ryne’s taste on a sofa cushion.

Ryne paused in front of the door that had led to Thancred’s small room. “I haven’t been in here since,” she trailed off, shaking her head. “Gaia and Taynor sorted most of it, actually, so only a few personal things remain. I should probably move to a smaller suite to let someone else use the space…”

“Maybe you need a roommate,” Aeryn suggested. “Perhaps Gaia could stay with you.”

Ryne reddened. “We’ve considered it, but I’m just…” She gave a helpless little laugh as she shrugged, looking up at Aeryn apologetically. “I’m just not quite ready, I think. It’s silly, but there’s a part of me that keeps hoping they’ll find a way--a safe way--to return. Even just for a little while.”

Aeryn squeezed Ryne’s shoulder. “It’s not silly,” she said quietly. “And I keep hoping that, too. Fairly certain Y’shtola has it at the top of her projects list.”

Ryne laughed, truly this time. “She would!” She looked at the door again. “The box should be on the shelf above the writing desk,” she offered Aeryn a small key. “I’ll let you see for yourself.”

Aeryn nodded, taking the little key and entering the room.

It was familiar, yet unfamiliar. Always small, it had kept from being cramped mainly by virtue of Thancred’s own minimalist tendencies with his added reluctance of accumulating things on the First that he would have to leave behind in the end. Even so, the room felt barren, many necessities and items missing, given away to be used by others in need among the Crystarium’s residents; naught went to waste while still usable.

The bed was neatly made; her eyes lingered for a moment, recalling a handful of pleasant times curled up together in it. They had often met in her own chambers for privacy, especially when feeling the need for more than simple closeness. There was a bench under the shuttered window; he used to clean his gunblade there, storing materials and parts in a chest beneath the bench. Nothing remained but the seat.

The writing desk was really a tall square table, a stool for the chair, in a corner of the room. Two simple shelves hung on the wall above it, some of Thancred’s personal effects that remained neatly placed upon them. The black willow box was a simple but lovely piece of old Nabaath make. It was familiar only in that it was a part of the room, always upon the shelf above the desk, a background decoration.

She had to stretch a little to pull the small box down. She unlocked it, pondering what it could contain for one last moment before opening the lid to find out.

Neatly folded pages, Thancred’s familiar handwriting covering them, five different bundles marked by Vrandtic dates in Eorzean lettering. The earliest one was dated five--no, six years ago now, in the midst of Thancred’s first year in this world, just after the Vrandtic new year. The second bundle was dated a year later. Then the third, then a fourth. The final bundle broke the date pattern, written...She shivered. The dates would have been the time after they assaulted Mt Gulg and before seeking Emet-Selch and the Exarch in the Tempest, when she had lain in a Light-induced fever for days in between.

All of the letters, long and detailed, were addressed to her.

Aeryn carried the box to the window and opened the shutters, letting in the natural light of day. She sat at the bench, picked up the first letter, and began to read, brows already rising at the first line.

My Dear Aeryn,

It’s been roughly half a year, to me, since I arrived in this world. We search for a means to send me back, but given the dangers, it’s difficult to say if we shall ever be successful. I hold onto hope, given we have made the impossible happen more than once—particularly when you are involved.

I know so much less time is passing for you, even as time is difficult to track beneath the eternal Light, but the people still mark the hours and days as best they can--perhaps better than we do in the Source, reliant as we are upon the sun and stars. So as the calendar year turns to a new page, I find myself confronted by reminders of you at every turn, my own mind noting the dates, as if counting down to your nameday in truth.

Violas grown in the Hortorium call to mind your favored hair decoration and your scents carried with it. The heather meadows and clear mountain springs of Il Mheg make me think of the taste of your magic. Treasure hunters in Mord Souq unearth duelist rapiers reminiscent of your combat style. The grey waters of a lake, shifting in color and tone under the burning sky, remind me of your eyes and ever-shifting moods.

I think of our new situation, how fragile it all still seems, our duties as Scions, the distance between Ala Mhigo and Doma keeping us apart more often than I liked. Especially after already having denied my own interests for far longer than I care to admit.

I fear now, not knowing when I may return to your side--in whatever capacity--that I am forgetting important things, and I very much do not want to. So indulge me as I list your various qualities that I admire, to remind myself why I allowed myself to maintain my impossible infatuation for so long, even as you became one of my dearest friends...

Aeryn eyes widened as she turned to the next page, then quickly checked the several pages following; Thancred had indulged his bardic habits, writing in verse and engaging in wordplay. Even the most innocent descriptions and memories of moments together, professional and extremely personal, were laden with puns and innuendo--not entirely unexpected from him.

She was mostly through the verses, trying to parse every dedicated line, when a knock at the door startled her.

“Aeryn?” Gaia called. “Everything all right?”

She cleared her throat. “Fine; I’ve quite a bit of reading to do, though; I may need some water.”

The door opened, Gaia appearing with a tray already in hand. “Ryne thought you might--are you all right? You’re redder than I have ever seen, and that’s saying something.”

Aeryn pressed a hand to her warm cheeks. “I’m fine. Just...wasn’t expecting some of what I found so far.”

“Is that good or bad?” The girl asked, setting the tray on the nearby side table in easy reach. There was a small tea service and also ice water, bless them.

“It’s...Better than good,” Aeryn replied. “I may be awhile, though.”

Gaia shrugged in her nonchalant, pretending-not-to-care way. “Doesn't matter to me, but I was going to drag Ryne out for a while, just so you know. You’ll be fine here by yourself--won’t you?” A little genuine care came through in the last two words, despite her attempts to seem otherwise.

Aeryn nodded.

“All right. Enjoy your reading, and we’ll see you later.” Gaia gave a little wave before leaving, quietly closing the door behind her.

Aeryn cleared her throat again, sipping the cup of minty green tea--bless those girls again--and set the first letter aside for now. She would get back to that later; alone in her own room, where she could bury her face in a pillow and shriek like a schoolgirl when overwhelmed by his words, godsdamn him. For now, the second bundle had her curious.

My Dearest Aeryn,

I almost let the date slip by, I am ashamed to say. So much has happened in recent weeks...

She read through two pages of his recounting Minfilia’s story and the reincarnations that had followed, offering a small hope to Norvrandt; of Urianger and Y’shtola’s arrival, his anger at the spell’s failure and yet relief at seeing Urianger again; and their shift in focus upon learning of the Eighth Umbral Calamity.

...Urianger’s vision of the Calamity, of our deaths, is a sobering thought. The idea of you fallen especially freezes my blood. I cannot bear the thought.

So I redoubled my efforts to rescue the girl bearing Minfilia’s name and appearance. She sleeps now on a cot in this Mord town as I write. She can’t be more than twelve or thirteen summers; a frail little thing with no skills aside from reading books thicker than she is, and asking innumerable questions. They taught her nothing, simply locked her in a windowless cell under the waterline. For at least ten years, that is all the child’s known. If the fate Urianger saw for us makes my blood freeze, her situation makes it boil again. Should I chance to meet Eulmore’s General--the man responsible for her “care”--I will let him know exactly what I think.

Tomorrow Minfilia and I shall attempt to reach Nabaath Areng, the site of the Flood’s halting; the girl says she must go there, as if pulled. I have a hope I dare not voice yet. The Blessing of Light does work in such interesting ways.

But that is on the morrow; tonight, though a day late, I wished to write to you as I did last year. With the date in mind you have also been in my thoughts--when I’ve had a moment to think, at least--and I find myself recalling more and more often the little things. Simple things. Things I fear I may forget, having been here for years now, years without the way you tilt your head when you have a question. It initially annoyed me actually, you were so quiet but now, gods I would give much to be in your silence again, to see that quizzical look. Anything to see the little furrow between your brows when you’re thinking. When you prop your chin on your hands as you stare out a window, tea forgotten in your hand. How you unconsciously wriggle and make faces as you read, reacting to the pages, lips silently moving as you devour each word...

“Oh I do not,” Aeryn muttered--realizing in the same moment that she was doing that now. She sipped her tea and kept reading, noting how he wrote, as much as what; the moments where he had scratched out words, or underlined others. The splots where the pen had sat on the page a moment longer than normal as he thought of what he wanted to admit to. The way the letters slanted in places where he was eager. There was no poetry this time, fewer puns and word play. He had written when tired and possibly injured, given the shakiness of some lettering.

There were places where he couldn’t remember clearly--what perfume had she worn on the day of a particular memory? Was she wearing her red coat, or a blue dress in another? He wasn’t certain.

The letter wrapped up several pages later.

...I must get some sleep, given the long trek across the Amber Hills awaiting. I don’t know what will happen when we arrive, but whatever it is, I’ll keep the girl safe. Taking care of her is the only thing I can do, lacking the skills of the Exarch and our colleagues. Particularly now that we have abandoned the idea of going home--yet. I still don’t know how I feel about that, having struggled to find a way back for so long now, but there must be a home to return to. To save ourselves, we must save this realm. Forgive me; as much as I yearn to see you again, I wish for you to live far more. Despite everything, I still remain

Yours, Thancred.

Aeryn drew in a sharp breath; the previous letter’s signature had been much simpler, after all the floweriness of the verses. This simpler, newsy, reminiscent letter had such a different feel to it, so much changing for him in that year. Her eyes kept drifting to that closing.

It took a few moments before she was able to refold that bundle and open the next.

His next year in the First; this one another detailed description of events he survived, and quite a lot about Ryne, still only known as Minfilia at the time.

...I actually began this letter yesterday, as we rested in a small inn at the edge of the Greatwood. I thought of seeking out Y’shtola, but am unfamiliar with those dark and twisting paths, and was low on ammunition. Minfilia was exhausted, unable to fight or imbue cartridges, and I won’t risk her more than our constant travels already do.

It was she who reminded me that I had been writing, before she made me take my rest as well. I’ve never told her about these letters, but she’s a bright girl and I have told her of you. Sometimes it’s simply because she is curious about you, and the hope that you’ll come here and save yourself, as well as the rest of us. Many times though I don’t mean to say anything, but the stories simply come, like a slumbering spring awoken by new rains, bubbling up and overflowing the riverbanks.

It’s something about her, I suppose, that makes me remember, and so I must speak before the memories fade back into the dustier corridors of my mind. Perhaps an effect of her unique Blessing? Or perhaps simply her childish curiosity drawing it out of me.

There’s a selfish part of me that wants you to meet her. It would mean that you’re here, for one, but also I think you two would get along. She’s a good girl--with her moments of petulance and stubbornness, as many youths are wont, but she’s come such a long way already, has learned so quickly.

I fear influencing her. The choice she must make is so important, and it must be hers. You would be a much better role model; you inspire others to do what’s best simply by your presence. I’ve felt the lack of you more keenly this last year than ever before...

Aeryn read through, noting he wrote it more like a conversation she had yet to answer. Memories of their adventures and companionship were woven through the words more naturally as he spoke to her. She smiled as he spent a good chunk of the letter not even realizing how he had gushed about Ryne and all she had learned and how she had grown in that first year they spent together, as if he were trying to ensure Aeryn would love the child as much as he so obviously did--even if the foolish man hadn’t been able to tell the girl so until it had almost been too late.

But then, that was Thancred; locking his thoughts and feelings behind stoicism, snark, and literally in a box on a shelf.

She traced her nail along the letters of his name--again signed “Yours”--before tucking that bundle away and picking up the fourth.

By this time the twins were somewhere in Norvrandt, though Thancred had no opportunity to see them as Eulmore’s hunters were ever close. He wrote to Aeryn of his frustration with how many Scions had come to the First but she was still so far away and still in so much danger, alongside the rest of the Source and this shard itself. If she couldn’t come to Norvrandt to break the Light’s hold over the realm then the girl would have to make her choice sooner rather than later--and perhaps face the same fate as all of her predecessors.

He admitted that he feared both of those outcomes. He seemed to have begun to cross out that line, but had stopped himself.

...A nasty part of me believes you will never receive these nameday letters. That these are simply my way of remembering yet another important woman in my life I will never see again. I try not to dwell on such thoughts, try to keep busy, but you know me. Perhaps better than anyone since our Minfilia. How I wish I could speak with you again; patrolling through Mor Dhona, lunch at Rowena’s cafe, stargazing on the roofs of Ala Mhigo, reading in the Waking Sands’ dusty library. Simply holding you until we fall asleep, those few, rare moments we had. You always made me say more than I ever meant to; you’ve a way of drawing me out despite myself—and failing that, of simply being there as a brilliant, warm presence.

There are places here I want to show you, things I want to share. Yet I fear your coming, what it will mean. What changes I’ve experienced. What we had was...comfortable, and felt right, after so long, and yet it was still so new and fragile. I used to be confident in my ability to be delicate, but these last few years with this girl have made me feel boorish and clumsy. And I know I have changed, not just because of her, but everything in this hard world. Will you recognize me when we meet? Will you still want me, when you were already so uncertain before?

I suppose I shan’t know until you’re here, or we find a way home. Given the Exarch’s record, the former seems more likely. And it still worries me, much as I know it’s the better course to preserve all we hold dear...

Aeryn stared out the window for a long moment; she had known of his doubts, his fears; when she had arrived and finally found him again, it had been difficult. Yet despite everything, they had gotten past it.

She eyed the final bundle, slimmer than the rest, those dates seeming so heavy though she had no conscious recollection of them, given her state at the time. Having finished the tea, she poured a glass of water and began to read.

Aeryn,

Ryne assures us you will still be Aeryn when you wake; her wards hold for now. I pray long enough to find a cure for what those bastards did to you. What we did to you, unknowing. Will you be pleased to know I have not struck Urianger for his part? I was too tired and injured as we returned, and occupied with carrying you besides. Now I simply am too weary in heart and mind to conjure that initial anger, and he has had time to explain how the Exarch coerced him into his confidence.

I am still not happy about it.

For five years I waited to see you again, thought about you through many days and most nights--such as they are, here. It’s funny what one can become accustomed to in time. Finally seeing you again was a jolt to every one of my senses as the missing you had long since become more real to me, much as I longed for your presence.

And as I feared, you hesitated. I don’t blame you; I know this place changed me. What we had back home was still so new, despite the prior years we had known each other. So I tried to be content to merely be in your company once more. We had rebuilt our friendship once, we could do it again. I had been a fool to think I deserved more.

Then you sought me out in Rak’tika. Do I need to tell you how you intoxicated me that day? I hope I was a comfort, both in words and in the release you needed. The distance still felt too great, but this much, at least, I could give. I thought it would be enough, to simply be what you needed in the moment.

I know now that I was once again fooling myself.

These last few months traveling and fighting and just being together have been a strange mix of stress and relief; our mission had been dangerous and difficult in so many ways, and yet working together, it was hard not to get caught up in the optimism, in the feeling that things would turn out, that we would find a way.

And you were here; your quizzical headtilts, your faces when you read, the white flowers in your hair. Your silences, your laughter, your strength in combat and your helping with every common chore in the vicinity. I thought I could simply be happy to bask in your steady light.

But now, seeing it tear you apart, it is not enough; it never was, and never will be. I can live with it, should that be your wish. My wish, however, is to continue what we had once begun. To hold you close not only occasionally but always.

Aeryn felt a hard lump in her throat; there was a decent space between the lines, the ink thick where he had hesitated, the initial letters shaky. Still he had written them:

I am in love with you, Aeryn.

It’s taken me time to collect myself after rereading what I just wrote and fighting the urge to burn the whole page. A part of me fears that you will scoff, though the greater part of me knows--hopes--better of you.

And the gods know you deserve better than me, but if you’ll have me, I certainly won’t complain.

I know after everything with Ryne I ought to say it to you aloud. That it may already be too late to do so. I pray that isn’t the case. I pray I find the courage and the words both to say what you deserve to hear. Even should you never reciprocate; if that should be the case, you shall never hear another whisper from me on the matter.

But I hold out a small hope, that you will, that you do. That we will have the chance to discuss the matter further. That you survive.

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. I only know I’ll be at your side until the end; there’s nowhere else I can be.

Ryne is calling; hold on just a little while longer, darling.

Yours always, Thancred.

She covered her face with her hands, emotions and memories flooding over her. There were words before finally confronting Emet-Selch in his memory of Amaurot. More than words on returning to the Crystarium, bodies twined together in relief and comfort.

Then she had returned to the Source to report their success. She came back to the First as quickly as she could, though; not only was there still much work to do, but he was here, and things were...not exactly different, but not quite the same, either.

As she reread the last page, she noticed a swiftly written addendum on the back. She turned it over.

I carried these letters all the way to the Tempest, thinking if I failed to say anything I might at least give them to you--they are yours, after all. But of course no time seemed right, and with a screwing of my courage (and pointed prodding from Urianger), at the last I was able to say what I wished. Miraculously, you said it too.

And now here we are, you peacefully asleep while the night sky wheels overhead and I still hear the celebrations outside despite the ungodly hour. I’ll rejoin you in a moment, but I needed some time to attempt to process the last few days. What happened in the Tempest. The fact you’re alive, and healthy, and claim to love me in return.

I’m not entirely certain why, but I won’t complain, either.

Rereading these letters, I’m not sure I’m quite ready to hand them over yet. They’ll return to their box for now, and perhaps in a few days I’ll be ready to show you.

Aeryn laughed lightly; of course he had hesitated to share them. The letters showed all his vulnerabilities behind the serious, confident facade he had developed. And with everything in the Empty, and then Elidibus, it was no wonder the letters had fallen to the wayside.

Until her actual nameday on the Source had come around, his note delivered with her breakfast by Tataru per Thancred’s instructions while he was on his latest reconnaissance. It wasn’t as if he could have brought the letters with him, after all--nor given them to her in front of the rest of the Scions in the Ocular, nevermind how public their relationship was now.

She rubbed her face--she had cried more than a few times while reading--and replaced the letters in the box. She locked it, and pocketed the key.

The girls were still out so it was no trouble to take the tea service to the sink and clean it, along with the other dishes, giving her time and activity to settle. She finished by washing her own face, removing some evidence of her emotion.

Since the first year she had joined the Scions, they had given each other gifts; she had discovered his nameday from Minfilia, gifting him the orchestrion roll of a song she knew he liked from a favorite minstrel. Her own first nameday as a Scion had been missed due to Lahabrea and Baelsar’s schemes, but Thancred was certain to make up for it. Sometimes they were late, or even early, but they always managed a little something, even as friends.

Aeryn took the box with her as she left Ryne’s apartment. She still had a few people to see while here on the First--starting with Lyna and the messages from G’raha--but then she would retire to her own suite in the Pendants and do a bit of rereading.

And maybe a bit more once she returned home, too; after all, if she timed it right, it would still be her nameday, and the best time to reread her present.

#Final Fantasy XIV #Lyn Writing #Shadowbringers #Thancred Waters #Thancred x WoL #Shippy Nonsense #Aeryn Striker #Pining

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raelly-writing · 4 years ago

Text

Frozen Affright

Ryne & WoL with Thancred/WoL, post-Eden8.

Pretty much just me wanting to go “nah” at there not being any injuries or somesuch after Eden 8, which prompted the thought that Ryne would be left a bit rattled by it all. So yeah, this fic happened.

There’s some brief referencing of events from a fic I wrote last year where Viana and Thancred bumped into her childhood friend while in Ul’dah investigating the Griffin’s activities post patch 3.4.

----

“The Light… it’s too much for her to bear! She won’t last much longer!”

“Then help her!”

---

“Seven swiving Hells, Thancred!”

Several more curses that could make a Limsan dockworker blush like a Ishgardian maiden were right at the tip of her tongue, but Viana clenched her teeth together when the sharp pricks that shot up from the side of her waist caused her to reflexively jerk her body to the side. Another sharp lance of pain followed when she, in doing so, jostled her broken arm in its makeshift sling. Groaning, she nearly wrenched her leg out of Urianger’s careful grip in the process. The pain twined together with her exhaustion, forming into a roiling sense of nausea.

Urianger glanced up at her with a concerned furrow between his brow, before securing his hold on her leg once more.

Before she had a chance to apologise to him, a firm hand landed on her uninjured shoulder, fingers digging into her skin. “Stay still,” Thancred bit out.

Unease instantly bristled in her chest at his rough tone. Rather than snapping back at him, she screwed her eyes shut and bit out another muffled curse while trying to sit still once more. Evidently satisfied, Thancred returned to applying the healing ointment to the burn on her waist. Despite his less than happy tone, his touch felt gentle as he worked - not that it prevented the salve from prickling and stinging at her raw skin.

“Prevail for just a few more moments, my friend,” Urianger’s soothing voice chimed in as he continued wrapping bandages around her injured ankle.

Viana made a noise at the back of her throat, brow knitted together in a frown, while worrying the edge of the blanket pooled around her waist with her one good hand. A few bruised ribs, several burns and some cuts, a broken arm and sprained ankle had been the final tally of this adventure.

Normally, she could deal with pain fairly well - but between her aether being utterly spent in that desperate dash to weaken Shiva so Gaia could help Ryne regain control, the primal’s unnatural chill that still wrecked her body, and the emotional fatigue, she just felt tired and all too sensitive to every twinge and jolt of pain. Lingering out here in the Empty, even now with the aether starting to rebalance itself, was draining as it were. Her head throbbed and all she really wanted to do was to sleep. Preferably in a warm bed, and not the uncomfortable cots they had out here in the Empty.

An irrational twinge of annoyance at herself made her grit her teeth once more. Seven Hells, she’d gotten soft over the years since joining the Scions - sleeping off injuries in a proper bed had been the very rarest of luxuries for most of her life. Ten-fifteen years ago, when she’d been a young mercenary fresh off the unforgiving streets of Ul’dah, a cot would have been more than fine for her.

Perhaps prodded by the unwanted memories of nurturing one wound or another while on the road, Viana’s attention drifted towards the tent where Ryne lay resting under Gaia’s watchful eye. Worry instantly rose like bile in her throat, and with it an unpleasant, heavy weight over her chest. It’d scared her half to death when Ryne had passed out in Thancred’s arms before they’d even made it back to camp, clearly having spent herself utterly on struggling to control Shiva and the Light.

What a reckless idea this had all been. She should have followed her gut, put her foot down and refused to go ahead with it. Surely it hadn’t been necessary to replicate Ysayle’s summoning method so precisely as they had.

Though they were all used to close calls by now, this had all been too close for comfort - not just for them personally, but for the rest of the First as well. Viana swallowed around the lump in her throat and stared out over the sparse greenery that had sprouted around their campsite. Done was done but… it was hard to shake off the dread of what could have happened. Hopefully, Ryne would regain consciousness soon and be able to see the fruit of their efforts. No doubt she’d be pleased to see that their efforts had not been in vain.

Viana could only hope that seeing that joy might scatter the clouds of turmoil raging in her chest.

“Raise your arm.”

Thancred’s gruff command stirred her from her thoughts. Silently, she did as he asked. He was careful not to jostle her broken arm where it was secured against her chest as he wrapped bandages around her midsection to hold the medical dressing over the burn in place.

Another sharp lance of pain made her bite back a wince and screw her eyes out. But slowly, the pressure from the bandages evened out and the stinging from the salve mulled into a dull but not outright painful throb.

The silence hung heavy over all three of them, until Urianger gently set down her securely bandaged foot. “I do not fear thy injury to be severe,” he spoke, “though I wouldst ask thee to abstain from any and all attempts to move without sufficient support to keep thy weight of thy injured foot, lest you may exacerbate it for thy efforts.”

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t do any merry jigs then,” Viana drawled.

Urianger made a soft sound of amusement. “As formidable as thou are my friend, I wouldst advice against such endeavours. A few days of rest wouldst be preferred.”

She cracked her eyes open and gave him a halfhearted smile. “Thank you Urianger, I’ll try to.” There was a careful tug on her raised arm, and she obediently lowered it once more.

As he rose back up from his crouch, accompanied by the melodic tinkle of his jewellery, Urianger’s golden gaze softened a little, and briefly flickered past her shoulder, over to Thancred. “I imagine thou shall not be left for want of assistance whilst thou recuperate.”

Viana followed his line of sight to glance over her shoulder. Thancred’s brow was furrowed, eyes focused on where he was securing the bandages. “Indeed not,” he replied firmly. “Can’t have the Warrior of Darkness tripping and falling in front of half the Crystarium while trying to make it to her room, can we.” Satisfied with his work, he carefully pulled her shirt back down over the bandages.

“That’s a bit dramatic, love.”

Finally, he looked up. There was heavy tension around his eyes, a storm of emotions still raging in them, his jawline hard.

Mustering a hopefully comforting smile despite her fatigue, she tilted her head to the side. “I’m fine.”

The hard lines in Thancred’s expression softened a little, but before he had a chance to reply, a muffled shout made their attentions snap to the tents.

“She’s awake!” Gaia declared as she burst through the tent flap. For a moment, she frantically looked around for something, until she snatched up a spare blanket and water bottle from atop the supply crate where Thancred had left them before.

“Gaia, I’m fine, I-”

Ryne, with Thancred’s coat still hanging off her shoulders, pushed aside the tent flap. Even the brief appearance of her, before Gaia promptly shooed her back into the tent with a series of stern admonishments and gripes about how troublesome she was being, was enough for some of the tension to seep out of Viana’s back and her breaths come a little bit easier, her shoulders drooping with relief.

Thancred stood up. Viana looked back to him, but to her surprise, he merely kicked the crate he’d been sitting on over to her left side, sat down and grabbed a towel and water bottle from the supplies strewn about.

“Wilt thou not rush to her aid?” Urianger asked.

She watched silently as Thancred wet a corner of the towel, then took her uninjured hand and set about cleaning away traces of blood that still lingered after that Urianger had healed the shallow cuts and bruises. “Perhaps I’m getting slow in my old age,” he replied casually, “because it would seem Gaia’s beaten me to it.”

The voices of the two young girls, though muffled from within the tent, were still audible from where the three of them were sitting, and the air felt a little less still and suffocating with that quiet murmur to fill the void.

“To think that she would be the one to break the ice,” he muttered under his breath.

Pain and fatigue momentarily forgotten, Viana carefully leaned over and pressed a kiss to his forehead. He grew still for a moment, then sighed and looked up at her and then Urianger with a faint smile on his lips. “They may have gotten off to a rocky start, but I think they’ll make quite the pair, if given a bit more time.”

“Is that a hint of melancholy I detect in thy voice?” Urianger mused, his deep voice warm with gentle amusement. “Something akin to a pining mother bird whose chicks have flown the nest…?”

Thancred’s eyes went wide at the teasing accusation, and Viana failed to contain a smile at the sight. Just then, the soft peal of Ryne’s laughter and Gaia’s flustered and fervent denial about something drifted over. His gaze flickered towards the sound, then his expression softened with resignation and fondness. “Father bird, if you don’t mind.”

Warm affection prompted Viana to lace her cold fingers with his and gave his hand a weak squeeze. He quickly bent his neck to press a kiss to the back of her hand, thumb rubbing alongside it as he folded his other hand over her fingers, lending some of his warmth to chase away the chill.

“But aye, you’re not entirely wrong,” Thancred continued, eyes downcast and a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “When the day finally comes to say goodbye, it heartens me to know she won’t be alone.”

Despite his soft tone, it was hard not to notice the sorrow that laced his words. Viana swallowed thickly. Not for the first time since Emet-Selch’s defeat, she felt her chest grow tight with anguish for Thancred and Ryne’s unavoidable separation. The sharp, dark feeling clashed with her own yearning to see their souls safely returned to the Source, tangling into a thorny ball of guilt for wanting her family back at the cost of what they’d all gained here at the First.

“Thancred-” she began, and without thinking, twisted her body towards him. A searing hot flash of pain instantly made her freeze up with a groan, her words of reassurance catching in her throat.

Thancred’s head immediately shot up, his gaze narrowed with worry. Exhaustion came crashing back down over her, no longer content to be held at bay with discussions of things that still lay in the future.

Grimacing at a sudden wave of vertigo, she slipped her hand from his and rubbed at her eyes. “‘S fine,” she mumbled. “Forgive me.”

“Perhaps, we ought to make an expeditious return to Amh Araeng,” Urianger spoke up. “Though the area is stabilizing, lingering wouldst be unwise.”

She felt Thancred pull up the blanket around her shoulders, wrapping it tightly around her. “That may be for the best, yes.”

Despite her quiet attempt to convince him to go check on Ryne, Thancred picked her up, blanket and all, and carried her the short distance to their transportation, with Urianger following close behind to assist if needed. Shivering, Viana briefly rested her head on Thancred’s shoulder, her eyes feeling too heavy to keep open. The leather of his cuirass was cold against her cheek, and a distant, half-formed thought flitted through her mind - a yearning to just lie curled up next to him, to bask in the comforting warmth of his body pressed against hers.

With her injuries it was a little awkward to get into the skyslipper, but with some help from Thancred and Urianger she was soon able to hop over and sink down into the back seat. Exhaling slowly, Viana leaned her head back, her eyes closed. “Thank you,” she murmured. Twelve, she hadn’t felt this worn out since her near fatal tussle with Zenos. Even expelling the Light against Emet-Selch had left her feeling less sore than this.

Or maybe it was less physical exhaustion and more emotional.

“I’ll join you soon, Urianger,” Thancred said, and there was a soft affirmative followed by Urianger’s footsteps retreating back to the camp.

Carefully, she tried to pull the blanket back up over her shoulders, only for Thancred to do it instead. With a quiet sigh, she caught his hand and opened her eyes.

Thancred immediately froze, meeting her gaze. His jaw was still tense and his brow furrowed in a clearly unhappy expression. It was an unpleasant reminder of his tense demeanour when they’d ventured down into the depths of the sea to search for Emet-Selch.

Mustering a tired smile, Viana squeezed his hand. “I will be fine, Thancred; go to her.”

He hesitated for a moment, then leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Yell if you need something.”

“Will do, love.”

-----

Despite the aches in her body, she managed to doze off into a fitful sleep that was light enough that she was distantly aware of the comforting murmurs of other’s voices, and the occasional footsteps of someone carrying something to the storage at the rear of the skyslipper.

“Viana?”

The soft, worried voice made her blink her eyes open. Ryne met her gaze, grey eyes wide with concern. Thancred’s coat was still draped over her shoulders, her smaller frame drowning in it. Mustering a smile, Viana carefully sat up a little straighter. “Something wrong, Ryne?”

Ryne held out a mug towards her. “Urianger prepared this for you.”

Gingerly, she worked free her arm from the blankets and accepted the mug from her. Steam rose from the ruby red liquid within. “Thank you.” A sweet, tart scent filled her nose when she carefully took a sip of the drink. It tasted much the same, clearly masking the taste of something herbal. The warmth from it settled in her stomach, chasing away some traces of the chill. “Tastes like pixieberries,” she mused.

Ryne sat down at the other end of the seat and drew Thancred’s coat close around herself. She was carrying a blanket in her arms as well, but made no move to wrap herself in it. Instead, she picked at the sleeve of the coat that hung well down to her forearm. “He said it’d help rejuvenate your aether,” she replied softly.

Glancing at her, Viana took another mouthful of the beverage, observing her hunched up shoulders and downcast gaze. It was a stark reminder of how she’d carried herself just a short while ago, when she’d still walked in the shadow of Minfilia’s memory and image. A prickle of concern rose in her chest, and she slowly lowered the mug to rest it in her lap. “How are you feeling?” Viana asked gently. “You gave me quite a scare back there.”

She immediately flinched and pressed her lips together. “I’m fine! But…” Pausing abruptly, she pulled at an errant thread coming loose from the coat sleeve, before she looked back up, eyes wide and face grim. “I’m sorry, I thought I could handle it,” she blurted out, her voice sharp with anguish. “I thought I could control Shiva, like Ysayle did.” Bowing her head once more, she looked like she wanted to curl up and hide herself away from the rest of the world in Thancred’s coat. “I thought I was strong enough. And because I wasn’t, you got hurt.”

The anguish and distress in her soft voice made Viana’s heart clench. It was swiftly followed by a sense of unease as she was all too aware that Ryne was, in some regards, still younger than her counted years, having missed out on so much growing up in that cell in Eulmore, and only now finding her own two feet in the world.

Taking a deep breath, Viana gave a small, thoughtful hum. “Perhaps you bit off more than you could chew,” she began, keeping her voice even and calm - the last thing she wanted was for Ryne to think she placed any blame on her. “And perhaps it was reckless, and I should have been firmer with my disagreement with your plan.” Carefully, she balanced the mug between her knees, freeing up her hand to reach out and put it on Ryne’s back. “But that is part of growing up - I’m just glad that we were all here, Gaia included, to help when it went sideways.”

Slowly, uncertainly, Ryne looked back up. Apprehension and a fear of rejection was so evident in her eyes. “You’re not angry with me? Even though I talked you into this?”

Shaking her head, she gave her a soft smile. “Gods no, I’m not. I’m just glad you’re unharmed.” Raising her eyebrows, she fixed her with a discerning look. “You are unharmed, right?”

Ryne’s shoulders drooped slightly with a relieved exhale and she hugged the blanket closer to her chest while giving a small nod. “I am. Thancred... told me to go here and rest while they pack up the tents.”

Something about the hesitation in her voice made Viana frown in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m… worried that... he’s upset with me.”

By reflex, her gaze flickered towards the campsite. “He’s not, I’m sure of it.”

Ryne was chewing on her bottom lip when she looked back up. “He seemed unhappy.”

Without thinking of it, Viana gently pulled at her shoulder, and Ryne shuffled closer, seemingly by instinct, until she was curled up against her side. “Thancred isn’t angry at you,” Viana spoke quietly while absently stroking a hand over Ryne’s hair.

“How can you be so sure?” She asked softly. “He was even more against this idea than you were.”

A small smile quirked the corner of Viana’s mouth. “Because I’ve known him long enough by now.” Letting her arm settle around Ryne’s shoulders, she gave her the best version of a hug that she could muster at that time. “What did he say to you after you’d woken up?”

“He asked if I was uninjured, and seemed relieved when I said I was not,” Ryne responded slowly. “But he never seemed to relax, even as I told him I was fine. I… I was worried about you too.” She trailed off, and even with his coat around her smaller frame, Viana could feel her tremble. “He seemed so… closed off.”

Mentally, Viana sighed. Twelve, perhaps she should have done more to try and ease him out of that state of mind. If only she hadn’t been so exhausted and raw with the injuries she’d sustained. “He’s upset with himself - not you,” she said gently, “because what could have happened scared him, and made him fear that he’d lose you too. Give him a few more hours, and he’ll have calmed down.”

“Oh…” With that quiet exhale, Viana felt Ryne’s entire body relax, the weight settling against her side as her head came to rest on her shoulder.

It was then that she felt how she was trembling. Concern instantly shot through her, and she gave Ryne a careful look. “You’re still shivering.”

She looked up, expression relaxed and void of the turmoil and anguish of mere moments ago, and gave a tired smile, looking for all the world like the exhaustion had finally caught back up with her. “It’s just the cold.”

“Here, help me with the blankets.”

Ryne did as she asked, and soon they were both huddled beneath them, sharing the warmth.

“Thank you, this is nice.”

Ryne’s quiet murmur and the earnest tone, made Viana smile to herself. A familiar sort of fond contentment, one she often felt around the twins, warmed her chest. “Anytime,” she replied softly. For all that Ryne had come into her own and acted with much more confidence, it was hard to forget how much of her life had been void of much personal contact. In the back of her head she heard Thancred’s quiet musings about how neither he nor Ryne had any experience with family, and despite it they’d managed to work things out relatively well.

Taking a slow breath, Viana looked out towards the campsite. Somehow, the small area looked even more chaotic, with parts of tents, cots and supply crates strewn about while the other three worked on their respective tasks. She had no knowledge of how it was to grow up with a family either - for all her childhood and teens the prospect of a family, where people cared for and supported each other, had been used as a toxic web by her supposed friend to control and manipulate those around her.

Even now with the time that had passed since then, recalling the last time she’d seen Aisthal still left a bitter taste in her mouth. It was a memory with two sides to it - the bitterness of facing her old friend once more and being reminded of the vicious criminal life that’d caused her to leave Ul’dah in her late teens, contrasted with Thancred’s steadfast and comforting presence that night.

Remembering how he’d distracted her with lighthearted tales and conversations about their friends until she’d calmed down, Viana cast a quick glance down at Ryne. “How do you think this place will look once it’s fully recovered?”

Ryne made a quiet, thoughtful sound, her head still resting against her shoulder. “I can’t help but hope that there’ll be plenty of flowers,” she replied, reverence and wonder so clear in her voice. “Bright, colourful ones, like in Il Mheg.”

Viana nodded slowly while looking out over the still desolate white hills in the distance. It was easy to picture them covered in high green grass and flowers in all the colours of the rainbow. “Yes, that sounds nice.” Looking back to Ryne, she smiled and tensed the arm around her smaller frame in a slightly awkward hug. “Maybe you could show the sights of Il Mheg to Gaia? Pack those coffee biscuits and other snacks, and enjoy them outside in the sun on one of those hills by Urianger’s house?”

An endearing look of embarrassment flickered across Ryne’s features. “Oh, I’m not sure... “ Slowly, her gaze drifted over towards the camp while her expression softened into something thoughtful. “Do you think she’d like that?”

Shrugging with one shoulder, Viana made a thoughtful noise at the back of her throat. “Maybe? Won’t know until you ask her.”

“It would be fun, I think…” When their eyes met again, there was a contemplative look on Ryne’s face before she smiled. “Yes, it's worth asking, I suppose.”

“After this, I think you’ve both earned yourself a bit of fun,” Viana hummed in response. Twelve, both them and the twins deserved every minute of carefree, lighthearted fun. They were still teenagers, too young to weighted down by all the burdens of adulthood - the weariness, the cynicism, the scars that never went away.

Sitting up a little straighter, Ryne fixed her with a firm and determined look. “So have you!”

Surprised, Viana blinked at her, then smiled sheepishly. “Alright, alright, no need to look like that,” she replied, and only just managed to bite back the reply that her injuries would keep her confined to her room for a few days anyhow. “I promise I’ll do so if a chance presents itself in the near future.”

Ryne settled back down again. “Good. You’re all always working so terribly hard.” There was a brief pause, before she quietly, under her breath, continued, “I don’t want any of you to wear yourself out.” Suddenly, she failed to stifle a yawn.

Smiling fondly, Viana gave her another one-armed hug. “Perhaps we should rest, before Thancred gets his feathers in a ruffle because of us.”

Her only response was another quiet hum. With a slow exhale, Viana relaxed back against the seat. Somehow, despite the dull aches in her body, the weight of Ryne against her side was oddly comforting, as the exhaustion crept up over her once more.

----

Thancred frowned as he turned over Viana’s cuirass in his hands. A sour taste rose in his mouth as he brushed his fingers over the scuffed and battered surface where one of Shiva’s light aspected attacks had burned her. The section would need to be replaced, along with a few others that had been too damaged by sword slashes or magical attacks. Quickly, he stuffed the cuirass on top of the rest of her gear in her customary travelling satchel, and with it, the dark thoughts that kept skulking at the edges of his mind. Closing up the satchel with brisk movements, he rose to his feet and hefted up the bag onto his shoulder.

Picking up the slim belt with Ryne’s daggers - undamaged, despite that she had been wearing it at the time of the summoning - he put it too over his shoulder, then retrieved Viana’s gunblade from where Gaia had been quick to discard it upon their arrival at camp, far more concerned with Ryne as she had been.

His scowl deepened when he gave it a critical onceover, his mouth suddenly dry. “Seven Hells,” he muttered. Scorch marks stained the steel near the cartridge chamber. A disconcerting sight, for sure. Had she overloaded it when breaking the ice around Shiva so Gaia could get to her?

Whichever way, he’d best disassemble it when they got back to the Crystarium and better judge the internal damage before he delivered it to the craftswoman at the Means who usually oversaw their gunblade and armour repairs. And, he could ask Viana later what she’d done - sometime when he didn’t feel like turmoil still rested in his chest like a ball of thorns. With a deep sigh, Thancred walked back to where the last few of their things were being packed up by Urianger.

“I’ll take these up to the skyslipper,” Thancred said as he picked up his own gunblade where it was leaning against a crate.

Urianger gave a small nod in reply. “It shan’t be much longer before we can depart.”

The sooner the better, Thancred felt as he began walking.

Gaia was hurrying back from the skyslipper with a look of determination on her face. She paid him no mind as they passed by each other - clearly she was eager to get out of the Empty as well.

A shiver crept down Thancred’s spine. Despite his inability to channel aether anymore, there was still something disconcerting about being out in the Empty for too long, even now with the immediate area’s aether rebalanced towards something more natural. Like something was slowly draining him of energy, flaking off his hold on his corporeal form. It made his skin crawl.

Or maybe he was just tired.

As he approached the skyslipper to set down the gear inside it, he looked towards the backseat to make sure Ryne and Viana were all right.

Except, Ryne was nowhere in sight. Confusion jolted through his mind, with the reflexive fear he’d fostered over the three years they’d spent being pursued by Eulmore’s forces following hot on its heels.

But before he had time to do much more than register the feeling, it vanished and a warm fondness bloomed in its stead as he paused to take in the sight. Viana was deep asleep, expression finally relaxed and void of pain, her chest rising and falling slowly with each shallow breath. In her lap, the top of a head with familiar red hair poked out from beneath the blankets, nearly obscured due to how she had one arm protectively draped over Ryne’s sleeping form.

His breath rushed out of his lungs in a deep exhale, and with it, the turmoil of dark emotions in his heart scattered like dust. He was used to close shaves but this… this had been a bit too close for comfort. Silently, he offered a prayer of thanks to the Twelve, whether they could hear him or not in this world.

They were both safe and alive. He hadn’t lost them.

Quietly, Thancred climbed into the skyslipper and deposited the items he carried on the floor, to the side where they wouldn’t be in the way. Despite his logical side urging him to the contrary, he leaned down over Viana and pressed a light kiss to her cheek.

“What’s..? Thancred?” she murmured, her voice coming out rough and weary, while turning her head towards him enough that their noses bumped together in the process.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “We’ve nearly packed up and will be heading back soon,” he said quietly as to not wake Ryne. “You still okay? Need anything?”

“Mhm,” she replied with a small nod while drowsily blinking up at him. “Just fine. So’s Ryne. She fell asleep pretty quickly. Don't need anything.”

Cradling her jaw, he brushed another kiss to her lips, relieved that her skin no longer felt as cold to the touch as though she’d just walked in from a blizzard. Viana made a soft, pleased noise in turn, the sound so familiar to him by now that he felt his chest grow tight with affection.

“Do you feel better?” she asked quietly.

With a quiet sigh, he rested his forehead against hers and let his hand drop to gently touch the top of Ryne’s head. “Yes, I do.”

---

Sort of headcanon, in that “I am not sure if this works with the lore” sort of way, that she tried to use a samurai LB3 to break the ice, but since the gunblade and gunbreaker armour isn’t quite as aether conductive as samurai gear, it was more just a brute force expulsion of aether.

#ryne #thancred waters #thancred x wol #thancred #final fantasy XIV #ffxiv #my writing

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reikhafaara · 3 years ago

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day 6 - avatar

Day 6 - Avatar

Tags: Reikh’a/Me’wo, other Scions floating around, Canon Divergence, What If (Me’wo takes the role of Shiva in Eden 8 instead of Ryne)

“I’ll do it instead.”

Reikh’a snapped to attention at Me’wo’s quiet words, sitting bolt upright where he’d been leaning against the wall of Eden’s central command. To be honest, he hadn’t actually been following their conversation very carefully. Me’wo was better at this sort of thing than him, and while Ryne’s explanations certainly made more sense to him than Urianger’s, the entire concept wasn’t really the easiest to grasp. Something about Aether and needing to create a representation of it, was all Reikh’a got.

“Sorry,” Reikh’a said, pushing himself up to his feet. “You’re gonna do what instead?”

Thancred shot him a glance, mouth opening to say something or other, but Me’wo cut him off.

“I am going to channel ice Aether to summon Shiva.”

Reikh’a’s jaw dropped.

“To be fair,” Ryne said, stepping forward, “I believe I’m more than capable of—“

“But it is too dangerous,” Me’wo said, looking at her and then back to Reikh’a.

Reikh’a nearly choked. “That sounds like a great reason to not do it at all!”

Me’wo had the wherewithal to at least look sympathetic at Reikh’a for a split second before he turned back to Ryne. There was a determined set to his shoulders, his tail stiff behind him, that Reikh’a knew as telltale signs that Me’wo, for once, was planning to stand his ground.

Rare as that occasion might be, it almost always meant no one was going to sway him from his course; although Reikh’a would be remiss if he didn’t at least try, especially when the words “dangerous” were involved.

“I believe I will have a better understanding of what to summon,” Me’wo said calmly, his voice even. “I have faced Shiva before.”

“Shouldn’t that make you a better choice to fight Shiva?” Ryne asked, and Reikh’a balked at the word “fight,” stepping between the two so he could get Me’wo’s attention.

“Okay, hold on here,” Reikh’a said, reaching out to grab Me’wo’s shoulders. “Why do we have to do it this way again? Can’t we come up with a solution that doesn’t involve anyone fighting anyone?”

His question was Urianger’s cue, apparently, because the man stepped forward and gave Reikh’a a sympathetic, if somewhat tired, look. “We must needs restore the presence of ice aether to the Empty, and Shiva is the only primal of such aspect. As she was initially summoned via a host, that being Lady Iceheart, we must replicate the same environment.”

Reikh’a shook his head. “Okay, but can’t we come up with an ice primal on our own? Does it have to be Shiva?”

It was Me’wo’s turn to look at Reikh’a with something almost like concern, his eyes going slightly wide as he considered Reikh’a’s proposal. Reikh’a could tell what he was thinking, of course--the memories of their fights with Ramuh and Leviathan were fresh in both of their minds, and it was hard to ignore that there had been some notable… variances in the designs of those primals.

“Look, I can’t help that I thought of the big lightning horse--”

Me’wo shook his head, a fond smile creeping onto his lips. “I understand, Reikh’a,” he said. He pat Reikh’a’s chest comfortingly. “However, perhaps this approach would be the most… predictable.”

Reikh’a’s ears flattened against his head. Me’wo had a good point. They didn’t exactly have the best track record for conjuring up the images of primals to fight. And if Me’wo was in charge of this one, to the point he was physically taking the place of Lady Iceheart, perhaps things would be easier this time. More controlled.

“Alright,” Reikh’a said. He gave Me’wo’s shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “I trust you, and I’ll do whatever you need me to, but no unnecessary risks or anything, alright?”

Me’wo simply smiled.

---

“I thought,” Reikh’a said, as he flicked a shard of ice away with his broadsword, skidding on the icy floor dangerously close to the edge of the platform where they’d chosen to summon the aspect of ice. “That this would be easier this time. Maybe we wouldn’t even have to fight for our lives or anything.”

Around him, the rest of the Scions were handling the fight with their own measures of grace--Urianger nearly slipped, masking the mistake with a well timed magic cast which lifted him off of the ground, and Thancred just narrowly managed to deflect an icicle that had been aimed for Ryne.

Standing in the middle of the arena was Me’wo, glittering and resplendent with the power of Shiva spiraling around him. He looked beautiful, Reikh’a thought, even as Me’wo sent another spray of ice in his direction, forcing him to deflect it with a shield of dark aether. Shiva’s style suited him, and with the ice and snow whipping around them like a whirlwind, he looked even more supernaturally pale, glowing like a moon over the shiny stone beneath their feet.

They should have realized that allowing Me’wo to take into himself the aspect of Shiva would be a mistake, given the recent events and the impact the Light had had on his aether. At the very least Urianger should have spoken up. Reikh’a’d have to give him a stern lecture about keeping key details a secret--again--after they managed to quell the aether consuming Me’wo and clouding his judgement.

For now, they were forced to fight.

Reikh’a spared Me’wo no quarter as they fought, Me’wo’s conjured blade of ice colliding with Reikh’a’s broadsword in a shower of frost. It was obvious the other man was hesitant to directly harm Reikh’a, choosing instead to launch his most fierce attacks toward Thancred or Ryne, which was a problem.

“Hey Me’wo,” Reikh’a said as he held against Me’wo’s attack, his feet skidding on the icy floor beneath him, pushing him closer and closer to the edge once more. “Now would be an excellent time to snap out of it.”

Me’wo’s eyes narrowed, but he did not respond other than to kick at Reikh’a’s legs in an effort to unbalance him. Skidding out of the way took considerably more effort than Reikh’a truly had to spare, and he ended up on his back a few feet away, panting and aching from where he’d crashed to the floor.

Reikh’a groaned. “Guess not.”

The fight was long and hard, in the end, and were it not for Fray’s well timed intervention of dark aether, Reikh’a suspected Me’wo might’ve gotten the better of them; but in the end he’d snapped out of his aether controlled state, looking at Reikh’a with a flash of alarm a moment before the summon shattered around him like a broken mirror and he fell, hard, to the floor.

Reikh’a dropped his broadsword as he rushed to Me’wo’s side. He fell to his knees, looping an arm around Me’wo’s back as he helped his mate slowly sit up. Me’wo was shivering, chills wracking his body from the ice aether, and he was clutching his head, a pained expression on his face, but he seemed otherwise unharmed.

“You okay?” Reikh’a asked quietly. He took one of Me’wo’s hands in his own, rubbing his thin fingers to get some warmth back into them. “You you again?”

Me’wo groaned softly. “Yes, I think so,” he said. He pulled his head from his hands and opened his eyes to glance at Reikh’a, his face becoming flush a moment later with embarrassment. “I’m… sorry.”

Reikh’a shook his head. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said, pulling Me’wo up into his arms, giving him no choice but to let Reikh’a lift him off of the ground and cradle him bridal style against his chest. “No harm done, we’re all okay, and I guarantee that was enough ice aether to last the Empty the next hundred years or two.”

Me’wo’s flush deepened. “I hope so.”

So did Reikh’a, really. He wasn’t entirely keen on trying that out with Ryne too, if it came to it. Something told him it’d be just as much of a disaster.

#Reikh'a faara #Me'wo #meikha #ffxivwrite2021 #ffxiv writing

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windup-dragoon · 4 years ago

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In the warmth of spring

|| FFXIV write - 2020

|| Prompt #16 - Lucubration

|| Post ShB

|| wol x Hien

|| 1360 words

|| References - Pain

|| With mentions of Illya, Laurelis, Arianna, and Moth’ir

|| In which the Prince struggles with celebration

Spring in Doma had always been his favorite season. The earthy tones of Yanxia were abruptly replaced with bursts of color. From rich scarlet hues, soft blushing pinks, to the purest of whites he had ever seen. All of these and more in full blossom this time of year. And it was for this reason that he had chosen to hold his coronation until now.

He wanted the world to see how truly magnificent the enclave could be. Certainly it was without the charm or history of Doma Castle that now sat at the bottom of the river, but this was home now. Where his people could feel safe once more and flourish. Together, they would create a new history for Doma.

A single blossom fluttered before him now, caught in the breeze of a brisk evening. The flame of his lantern flickered, sending shadows dancing across his parchment. Bold markings of fresh ink stretched out before him, the tiny flower, taken much too early from the branch, landing squarely on his working hand. His brushstrokes stilled while jade colored eyes studied the blossom.

For the last week or so he took to the pavilion in the One Garden. A chance for peace and solitude as to better lucubrate over his work. While writing in the company of a certain Warrior of Light was, and has been, possible, it was simply too distracting to have her so near by. To hold her at a distance and ask for sheer silence seemed unfair to him, especially when it was their bedchamber to share. Where else would she go then so he could be at peace? Lest his mind wander and get lost daydreaming of her, so very near and far all at once.

Instead it simply made sense to take leave for a few hours before midnight and hurriedly scribble his thoughts down on parchment before his train of thought escaped him.

But now, in the stillness of the moment as the feather soft petals of the blossom caressed his skin, Hien staggered back into the here and now. The One River babbling at the docks had somehow grown louder at his ears, suddenly very aware just how heavy his eyelids felt.

His work laid scattered before him, shared between hundreds of rolled parchment and hastily written ink. All of this was in preparation for his coronation. One document, somewhere among the mess, held a speech he would give to his people. He was incredibly proud of the words he had conjured from thin air that night and simply bubbled with excitement to see how well received it would be. Another was a simple list detailing events as they would occur, a timeline for his own knowing as he had never been to a coronation before nor remembered his mother or father ever once discussing the matter. But the one he struggled with the most, a piece of parchment with blotches of ink where he had fumbled with the brush or lost his concentration, the very same piece he helplessly tried to finish even now, titled only with her name.

Hien had difficulty swallowing as he read over what he managed to produce, chewing on his lip as his cheeks flared scarlet. Another blunder. This would never suffice. His choice of words were always much too flowery, too heavy-handed or just too flat. Never could he find quite the right way to say what had been on his mind for months. Even extending inquiries to her friends seemed of little help.

‘Say it romantically!’ Was Laurelis’ opinion. He hoped it would at least sound romantic in some way.

‘Be honest and straightforward.’ Illya had replied. If he were too poetic, the sentiment would be lost to her, this much he knew. She often mentioned struggling to hold a conversation with Urianger after all.

‘...Flowers?’ Arianna squeaked in her mousy way.

‘Why are you asking for my opinion?” Emet-Selch was... certainly of no help. He was unsure why he even bothered to phrase a question to the man anyway, besides the fact that wherever Arianna went, the Ascian was close behind.

With a sigh on his lips, Hien set aside his brush, his free hand capturing the little blossom and letting it rest in the center of his palm. Perhaps with the arrival of more of their friends and companions he could ask for more opinions. Moth’ir and Thancred were surely due to arrive any day, accompanied with their darling daughter Marmot. The two seemed more level headed; certainly they would have an answer for his struggles.

For now, however, he would have to abandon the subject for another day. Exhaustion had crept up on him, leaving dark rings beneath his eyes and an ache in his bones that demanded the sweet comfort of sleep. But as he began collecting his parchment, it dawned on him. His stomach sunk, his heart beating with a hollow thump.

There would be no goodnight kisses or a warm embrace beside him this night. Just as there had been none the night before. Early the day previous she had left for Eorzea with only a fleeting kiss on the cheek to remember her by. He had missed it then, too overwhelmed with decoration choices to see the urgency in her mismatched eyes as she rushed to depart.

Perhaps something had come up with the scions.

At least that was what he told himself all afternoon, realizing there was a piece of him missing while she was away. He felt himself drift from conversations, thinking about her and her far away adventures without him. What horizons did she see? Did they make her think of him? He could almost see it now as he closed his eyes; Kiri eagerly pointing out constellations in a foreign sky and telling him stories of her travels. He could almost hear the laughter in her voice while they cuddled close beside a fire, sharing a meal and drink in unknown wilds.

Just as his mind began to wander from him, shouts from the pier snapped him back. Slowly he roused from his stool to look toward the docks only to see a sail of a boat folding in. A small boat, to be sure, but so late? The prince abandoned his work out of curiosity, only the little blossom still in his hand coming along for the ride.

The little harbor of the enclave had a few fishermen helping tie the newly arrived boat down, pulling it flush against the stonework for the passengers to step out. Hien arrived in time to spy Az’hala and Isho, Kiri’s companions, help an older Roegadyn man off the boat. Isho, who had been stationed in Kugane, met Hien’s eyes with a look of ice. The Au Ra always had an unflinching, stoic expression to him, but this? This was unsettling.

“Friends! Welcome!” Hien called out, descending the few steps with leaps and bounds. His heart was practically vibrating in his chest cavity. Was Kiri with them? Az’hala’s golden eyes faltered, his brows drawing together that had Hien’s smile wavering. “...Who is this guest of yours?”

Even in the dark of evening, Hien could see the silvery outlines glittering in torchlight. The roe’s features were heavily scarred and sunken over time. He held his hands together, as if the evening breeze was cold and bit at his crooked fingers. The man looked between Az’hala, Isho, and then to Hien with sparkling, wet eyes.

“A-Are you... Hien?” His voice trembled.

The prince cocked a brow and shifted his weight. What was going on? “Aye. And who are you?”

“My lord,” Az’hala ducked between them, “This is Eyriwolk. Kiri’s father-”

Before his tense jaw could fall, Hien watched the roe’s features crumple and massive shoulders shake. “This young lad said you could help.... Please! I ain’t got much but... Please, my girl... They’ve got her.”

The roe fell to his knees with Az’hala at his side. Isho, always the quiet one, crossed his arms and looked away before anyone noticed the fury in his eyes. And as for Hien...

A tiny little blossom fell from his hand.

#ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2020 #ffxivwrites2020 #|| Tiger Prince & the Stray #|| Untold Stories #Hien Rijin #Lord hien #prince hien #hien x wol #hien x kiri #did I JUST CHANGE WRITING STYLES AGAIN #wow ok i need to stop that #sdkljfw #yeets this onto the dash and fades from existence #Eyri you really need to learn some respect too fsdkljw just calling him hien c'MON

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inviouswriting · 4 years ago

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Benvenuto all'inferno - Darkwardens AU

Going off of @maiden-born-in-snow ‘s oneshot she did where Thancred slays Shuri.

Some warnings - Death. There is death. Of a favorite, mentions of Divinity’s past, Kivera’s, and Shuri’s death following her oneshot she did. I know Thancred might be ooc. This is an AU. No smut in here.

But here we are.

Title is “Welcome to Hell.”

“We can’t feel mama anymore.” Divinity’s demeanor changes immensely, she knew it, she felt it. She is as linked to Shuri as Kivera was. All she could do was collect the children as they went to her to grieve. The moments that follow the death felt, were a calm before a storm. That storm that was about to hit, was Kivera. Divinity knows she felt her death, and from the eerie calmness she felt through her link. The only thing she could hope for, was a swift merciful death upon Shuri’s murderer.

However, she knows her leader won’t be that forgiving to grant such a thing.

Divinity felt two approach her, and she didn’t need to turn her head at the hoof falls of Chiron. Or the timid steps that belonged to Parn.

“We should take them into Paradise. They’ll be safer through the gates, they won’t have to feel or see a world burn from Purgatory.” Chiron says to Divinity who nods, she had forfeited her sight to resume her own role as a star spirit. She knew better, not with what she feels, that intense sadness that returned through the link she shares with Kivera. They had a bit of time before her heart is thrown into chaos.

Parn helps guide the group from the Sanctuary into Paradise. He was a small boy, well pass four hundred years but retained a small body per his death and role as Capricorn’s spirit. He had a deep connection to Kivera before she passed on her name to Kiya. He was the second being to show the reaper kindness following her death and guided her to Chiron after she stumbled onto the very shores of Purgatory.

Parn could tell Kivera is restraining her emotions, her domain linked with her power. She was holding off till Shuri’s children were secure and safe. The last thing the angel wanted was to scare them worse than losing their mother. She needed to be a face they could still trust after what she was about to do. What she will do.

Kivera in question had fallen to her knees just outside of the Malikah’s Well. She had just left to go in search of aether for Anubis, she had only hunted powerful A and S rank monsters that provided enough for her. Finding they sustained her in the same manner that Kivera sought another’s essence. To her it was no different than if she devoured a soul, it was nature to her. That is where she and the Scion’s differentiated on morals. They want to protect the all from an unseen danger they don’t know. She on the other hand was protecting that very soul from giving into that nature that separated Shuri from becoming a full monster.

Yet here Kivera is, doubled over on her hands and knees, her soul ached in the same fashion she felt when she had lost Damien. Only this time, she can’t bargain to reverse time for Shuri. And she knew the consequences for that action.

Yet she knew Shuri was not meant to die by this fate. Her fate was something else, yet someone deemed it fit to murder her.

Kivera searches the air itself for something, the last thoughts, moments from Shuri. What she senses ends off her tongue.

“Thancred..” Kivera recalls the last hour to herself, using her own abilities to be able to seek to understand what happened. Before she made her choice, before she committed to being The Scion’s end.

Instead she found the resolve to end them entirely. Devastate them enough to never step into her affairs ever again.

There was no justified reason to the death. Not one Kivera could find. The hand that pulled the trigger, was one of fear, the “what if.”

She waited.. just a little longer. She could sense those in her realm, her home, where she was getting ready to transport Shuri to, to keep her within Purgatory, to keep her safe, and able to see her children as a chance to stirr Shuri within. To break from Anubis, and maybe find a way to shake the unending darkness off her. The very light that she never wanted to see without parents. What any mother strives to protect is her children.

Kivera feels Divinity give her a ping, only to shut her out. The Libra spirit knew what she was about to do. She was in the state where she could destroy the realm. She didn’t want to let Shuri’s children feel her anger or dwell on the sorrow yet.

Once Kivera was certain that Shuri’s children, all souls and her zodiac spirits were out of her sanctuary. Was when she allowed herself to howl in pain. A scream that reaches the very ends of The First, a scream of pure anguish and agony as the sky falls to darkness itself.

Thancred took time to look over Shuri’s fallen form, still stained black, but after her death she had regained her former self. Pristine white, looking like she had never been touched from the start. Only lifeless and blood pooled underneath.

“I’m sorry Shuri, this was the only way. We had just saved this world, only to have another threaten it. Right when we’re about to go home. We could never leave if we knew there was another fight waiting.” Thancred tried reasoning more with himself, to make what he did sound right.

It was in this moment he heard the scream, he ducks down on himself as it shakes the well, shakes the entire domain itself.

“What... in the seven hells.” Thancred doesn’t finish that thought, instead he feels searing heat engulf him and throw him across the bottom of the well. He regains himself fast and pats out dark green flames that leech on him and he feels his very soul burning from their touch.

When he regained himself he saw Kivera standing over Shuri’s form. Her attention fully on her fallen lover. Thancred notes there is a calm about the reaper. One he had noticed before when he first approached Holminster where she had previously hid Shuri before relocating her to Malikah’s Well, further away from the possibility of encountering humans.

Kivera kneels down to check over Shuri, as if seeing if there was a glimmer of life left in her. She knew there wasn’t, her soul had returned to the aether, she felt the cord sever from herself, and everyone she was soulbonded to.

“If you are at Acheron, please wait there for me. I will collect you for Paradise myself.” Her voice solemn and full of emotion. She refused to allow her to be buried in a world where her body would rot. Kivera under a gesture she could do to preserve her. She lets the pricks of permafrost ebb off her hands and encases her body in an ice crystal. She further sends this to her Sanctuary. To tend to her and let her children and Estinien say a proper farewell for The Source, just to the vessel, her soul she would find.

Kivera stands, only then did she even acknowledge Thancred. A pair of bright red eyes, different than their cat-like appearance, the whites of her eyes had stained black and she seemed to stand there waiting for something. Kivera was far too calm for someone who lost someone dear to her. He does note that there is fire that seems to swirl around her. Her energy giving off her rage. She wanted nothing more than to destroy the star they were on. She didn’t but it didn’t mean she would let the man or his band of scion’s continue their paths.

Thancred finally finds his resolve, getting up to his feet using his gunblade to steady himself.

“It had to be done. She could not go on living like that. You saw her for yourself. She was too far gone, her very aether was corrupted.” He uprights himself just as Kivera turns enough, he had her attention. She wanted to hear his excuse. Try to reason with what she truly knows.

“I am listening. Let’s hear you make light of murder.” She leans back folding her arms, yet at her feet the ground is scorched being eaten away.

“That was not Shuri.. I felt it, that she did not want to continue like that. She accepted it.”

“Interesting coming from the likes of you. A soul who has cheated and is cheating death once again. You guys spent months and years in this world trying to figure out how to change a calamity. To try and find a way back to your bodies.. yet you couldn’t give Shuri more time. For fear? Fear of her undoing all of you and yours precious heroism.” Kivera reaches out into the air and grasps something. This something attached to Thancred, she twists what she sees and brings him to his knees.

“You know as much as I do. There was no reason to kill her. She was not hurting anyone, she had enough process in herself to not go into the towns and hunt townsfolk. She knew she couldn’t. Even when she had ran out on her own for aether. She attacked an S mark instead of people. Thancred. She was still there! Yet for your own reasons you decided to kill her. Tell me, was this the action of the scion’s as a whole? or yourself?” Kivera’s tugging on the cord in her hand, she sends a stream of fire through it and into his chest. Connecting her to him, with Thancred understanding her being more clearly.

Kivera peers into his soul and shows all his deeds before him. From the time when he was the cause of Minfilia’s parents, the time he had met Shuri for the first time, to her heartbreak realizing he was a player. The trickery he had shown, the time he was taken over by Lahabrea. Everything Kivera wanted to know she looked for it. It was like a picture book being flipped before her eyes. To the most recent of time where the truth of his kill on Shuri was out of fear, and on his own. Not the scion’s doing. They were not as stupid as he was. They knew the powerful being that Shuri had at her side.

They could sense her power, they would have kept her as an ally and let her take Shuri to her domain if it meant keeping all realms secure without a needless death. If anyone could have found a reason to reverse it would have been Kivera in her knowledge in her home world without the risk of Shuri being killed on her mind.

So here she was looking for any sort of justified reason that Thancred could have had. Yet she knew the truth of it. There was no reason other than the “what if” factor. What if she had lost her humanity, what if the public saw her, what if.

Those were the very factors that angered her more than Shuri’s death itself. Done on someone’s fears. She has seen deaths like that, the one that claimed Divinity’s life in the Salem trials. She had sat with Divinity on her stake pyre till she took her last breath and was the Libra spirit’s last sight before she asked to be allowed to see again.

“I’ll ask once more. Was this you, or your scion’s order. Your answer is highly important regarding their lives. I want to hear it straight from you so that I can present it to them after I’ve tossed them your head. If this was their order. I will hunt each and every single one of them down. There will not be a “scion’s” by the time I am done. That whatever little agenda you all have going, ends.” Kivera tugs the cord for an answer.

“Mine! It was only mine..” There was no use lying to her when she could see the answer for herself. He barely understood her being, and that was done on purpose.

“You had no right to claim her life. Your scion members would have said to focus on the empire, your next bigger threat than worrying over Shuri when she posed you no threat. She could have broke out at anytime and lain waste to so much here. Yet she didn’t. Nor do you care to know, all you wanted was to prove some self righteous reason that it had to be “you” to put her out of her misery.” Kivera shared the feeling Shuri had, her true desire was that of anyone who had gone months without seeing their loved ones. Loneliness, self fear of whether or not she would come out of it or lose herself further.

“She did not want to die, she had lamented to me. She wanted to go home, she wanted to see her children, Estinien, her family. I was trying to make that possible. I had made it clear to you what would happen if you came for her. That I would erase your entire existence. Now I rethink that. I think the world should know what sort of faith they’re putting into you and your kind. That you would hunt and kill someone innocent who never once stained their hands in blood except under your commands.” Thancred knew her right, hell she is death. Of course she was right. He knew she did not pose threat to them as of now, if there was something they could have sent the next warrior of light, but he had seen the aftermath of the former warriors sent. Each of them had been dropped at his feet by the angel that stands before him now. She had been generous to return each of his failures for him to bury. She did not kill all of them, some she returned broken or the ones she made see her reason left with scorning Thancred’s ideas.

Thancred is without words, and he found the ground at Kivera’s feet, where he could focus instead of her face. He couldn’t focus on her eyes, their inhuman appearance unnerved him. Yet it seemed she was waiting for him to look away from her.

The tension in the air shifts, and he sees her sweep a foot in a circle as if making a rune. When she places the sole of her foot on top of it the ground after that softens where he is, he felt himself sinking. He had seconds to react, the grace period was over. He forgot that she is an opportunist fighter. Him bowing her head away from her eyes enabled her to take an advantage. His unsteady on his feet was not what he needed to focus on. It was the blade swinging towards his neck.

Thancred had seconds to block it with his own, to be knocked back. Kivera is fast on her feet, he knows her to be fast. Estinien has shared stories of their sparring. She has only been beaten because she allowed him to win. Here he sees her round and aim again with the blunt end of her weapon towards his side. She connects with his arm and that was enough for her to engulf him in a burst of flames dark black and purple flames.

He felt his very soul on fire as they race through his being scorching almost as if taking root within his very core. He would question her about it, but not with those eyes calculating his next move if he would falter down or try to launch his own attack. This was going to be a fight he knew he couldn’t win. Unless she felt merciful.

The flames around him seemed to leech his very life, like she was removing something. He readies his blade to fire at her, it then clicks at what she was doing when the power to use it fades. The aether within the gun was stolen out. All that the gun had now were useless bullets. Not like using them would have had an effect on a spirit.

Kivera kicks a foot to the ground, the ground underneath him cracks and he recoils jumping away from her. Moving hurt, his soul was in pain from her flames. He wondered if this is what each warrior felt before they were killed. Like all the weight of what they were doing was forced on their shoulders and burned them within and out.

“This must be why you sent all those warriors to me. You are no fun if you are succumbing so soon just to my miasma and hell flame.” Hellfire. Thancred looks up.

His looking up was what she wanted, as he looks up she sends a fire bolt his way. He blocks it with his blade letting the embers scatter around him. Those embers engulf and spark off like hundreds of a little explosions. He begins to move running around to try and get an advantage or at least breathing room. Every part of him felt as if it was heavy. Like heavy had been casted on him.

Kivera was hot on his heels intending to not let him gain a chance, they both exchange blows of their weapons. Kivera seeming to dance around his attacks, on his attacks. He threw off the gunblade after it seemed useless for the rogue knives he kept in back, as a last resort. He could still fight this way.

He felt a wave of cold as she shifts her elements, at his feet he slips on ice she engulfs the floor with. He remembers Shiva to stay still, yet the jump attack Kivera does sends him sliding backwards to a wall. He regains himself enough only to have the crescent of the blade slam towards his head at his neck. She was aiming to kill him, the fastest was beheading. He ducks under the blade by sheer luck looking at how deep she embeds it within the wall. Had he still been there he doesn’t escape the blade without a deep graze on his forehead.

Kivera raises a foot back and kicks it towards him. He catches her foot with one of his daggers. There a burst of flames off her foot rains down on him. She pulls her scythe free, and turns it to slam it again, point towards the top of his head. Thancred rolls to the right to avoid it, feeling the ground cleave next to him where she strikes it. How her blade doesn’t even chip, he notes her shoes seem to be made with the same material as her scythe.

Thancred regains himself, and dashes away from her, she gives chase, this was a losing fight, he had to get away from her. Kivera sees him running through the long hallway that leads to the bottom of the Well. She summons a “door” in front of him, and he foolishly takes it thinking it was a way out. When he passes through it, he is dropped to the ground in front of her. She was waiting for him and hits him with the blunt end of her weapon knocking him through another door she summoned.

Thancred feels like he is falling, spinning even, this was her doing. The door she knocked him through wasn’t a door, it was a mirror for a different dimension. One she commands alot of respect in. The feeling of falling ends with another hit from the weapon she carries, and he lands across from her at a shore. The water was on fire, and he notes a deafening roar of screams.

Kivera lets him gather himself and his bearings to take in the burning land he was on. In here, the guise she used in his world ebbs off in ashes from her. She retains the dark complexion yet appears more at home, her wings black and white instead of just black. Almost a symbolism that there was still good in her. If she chose it. The scythe she has even takes on a different appearance. Like it has a life of its own. Antares, he remembered the name of it.

“I don’t think you would give me an answer of where we are, would you?” Thancred feels the air thick with ashes, he faintly is aware of a “rain” but did not want to know the source of it.

“I think you should guess that answer. You remember where I am from. To humor you, you are in Hell itself. I brought you here, body and soul. As for your essence in Eorzea or The First, among your friends, scions. They felt your death in the same manner we felt Shuri’s. They know you as dead.” Kivera rests her blade under her feet standing on it like she can’t touch the ground herself. Or refuses to touch the ground she herself had crawled on to get out of the plane of existence.

“But you didn’t kill me yet.” He sees her grin, and put a hand to her face. He noted how her eyes had returned green briefly. She peers at him through her fingers, her right eye red again while a grin spreads.

“You don’t even realize it yet. I don’t know whether to laugh, or leave you in suspense.” He stares at her confused, what didn’t he realize. What did he miss. What did she do that ended his life.

He thinks of all her attacks, he didn’t feel any of them that would have ended his life. Kivera keeps herself suspended waiting almost for his realization.

“Perhaps, I should show you.” She summons a mirror in front of him, and he looks on into it. It was when she had grabbed the very soul cord he had. When she was getting him to look at all the things he did, the things Shuri felt. There in her hand she had burned it off. The connection between his soul and body.

“Oh! It seems to click now doesn’t it? Yet I like to remind you. You are already a spirit! The reason you are even able to see me. Is because you have been on death’s door the whole time. I just took you as payment for the others.” Thancred looks on in realized horror, she had been kicking him around as a spirit this whole time, the reason his weapon didn’t fire, the way her flames were alot hotter when she used hellfire. She was burning his very spirit, marking him as a hellbound spirit.

“You should have left Anubis alone. I warned you. Did I not? Yet, you escaped back to The First, when you should have left these matters to me. Thought I wouldn’t notice a spirit walking through The First again? After Kiya had painstakingly helped bring you back to The Source. Risking her life. You owed alot to my successor too. Who do you think kept bargaining your lives?” Kivera looks at her nails in a manner of being bored.

“You may have doomed both stars! I thought you weren’t suppose to intervene in fate.” This earns a glare from her.

“You know, eventually you all will die some day. Every single act you do, just extends the time. What will happen with Zenos? That lunatic Fandaniel, parading around in Asahi’s body? It was suppose to have happened already. Your deaths. You were suppose to have died to Black Rose. Remember? Yet that idiot cat interfered with what was already in motion.” Kivera was getting bored of the monologuing, she finally sets her feet on the ground, here it didn’t matter if she used her full power. It would give the gods and goddesses of the lands some entertainment. The real Hades would already be looking, the one being she answers to next to Thanatos or her guarding deity in Pluto.

“You would have been content with the death of an entire star?” She looks at him as if it was the first time he has seen a reaper.

“Do you not get what I am? You recall Amaurot? I was there. Maybe you need an explanation of one of my titles. I am a doomsday reaper. What do you think that entails? I end worlds. The death and destruction of a star is a day job to me. All to increase the subjects Hades wants.” Kivera even shows her spot after Therion had descended as the third Doom. Her overlooking the star as it burned from the edge of the thermosphere.

Thancred takes a leap towards her, and she steps around him, he seems to slow in his fall, while she kicks him rounding it so the sole of her foot hit his abdomen. Sending him back across the field she had brought them to. Close to the burning river. He had almost fallen in, the heat on the shore enough to make anyone scramble away from it. Yet every surface was burning with the same dark purple flames that she had engulfed him in.

“I should leave you here. To wander lost, to wallow in your days, wondering what you had done, when you knew the catalyst that started this sentence in Hell. I had warned you from the very beginning. That if you sought to end Shuri’s life. I would plunge you into Tartarus myself. Next to that unforgiving time god himself. I’m making good on that promise. We’re only in Hell after all. Tartarus... is a bit further down!” Kivera finishes her words with using her scythe to hit Thancred across the field towards a pit. Where she had been aiming him to, he catches himself on the lip with her standing over him.

With her feet on the ground she uses one of her elemental abilities to soften the ground at his hands into sand, watching him slip into the pit further. She jumps in after him, and with his fall, she hits him again till he lands at another ledge. Thancred hits into something, and looks to it. He is met with a face, a giant, he alone was barely the size of his nose. Yet this being was of titanic porportions. An eye is open as it looks at him.

“Kivera, what is this?” The being speaks. Thancred sees her stroll up to this being as if this was normal for her.

“You should be glad. I brought you a friend. You two can be miserable together. Kronos.” Her tone is cheerful.

“What do you want.” He cuts to the chase, wanting to know the reason she is there. She only bothers him to bargain.

“Come now.. I come with innocent intentions. Besides... I know from the last time of bargaining a life. I won’t repeat that mistake. I genuinely brought you a friend for eternity.”

“I don’t want him. What use have I of him?” Kronos eyes him, and Thancred worries as Kivera talks of bargaining lives. To realize she was keeping her word, she would leave him here. With this titan.

“Where do you suggest then? I brought him all this way! Surely you can’t be mean in refusing my gift. I’ll tell Hades.” Kivera feels Thancred trying to inch away and swiftly pins him with her scythe embedded in the ground in front of him.

“Do not move.” Her only warning.

“Fine. I’ll keep him. Suspend him next to me then.” Kivera smiles and does as she is instructed. Placing Thancred in a orb to leave him with the time god. Leaving him at eye level to him.

“Kivera, why not just end me entirely?” Thancred wonders why she is leaving him like this. Kivera shows the reasoning behind her leaving Thancred to Kronos to the god. That he had broken a taboo, in taking a life he wasn’t suppose to claim. For she had claimed Shuri’s soul when she had soul-bonded with her.

The time god howls in laughter at this.

“You are asking her now? Why she is leaving you to an eternity with me? You pissed her off! This is light compared to what she usually does! What’s the matter? Not liking my company already? Well, we ought to get use to each other. She did gift you to me. You took the life of someone she loved. Be glad she didn’t retaliate in killing someone you treasured. She knows what each person despises deep in their souls. What is more boring than being left in a pit with an old god like me. She thought your punishment through. Thancred is it, an eternity is excruciating slow here.” A fate worse than death, is spending endless time in nothingness. Not dying, not withering away to rot. But spending a true eternity in idleness.

“Welcome to Tartarus.” Slow realization that the only face Thancred would be able to look at, is Kronos. Only him to talk to, and he is powerless here, except as the key component in all time in the universe. Thancred has nothing to offer the god, and Kronos wants nothing he could give him anyway. A perfect punishment for one who has cheated death, is a deathless death. The surface already knows his death, they would only grieve him.

Kivera returns to the surface, to inform the Scion’s of her doing. She looks at each of them with a warning of hers.

“Do not ever meddle in my affairs again. Or I will throw each and every single one of you where he is.” Kivera shows them all the needless death, how she was working on trying to save Shuri from her affliction. That she was about to move her to her realm. That was Kivera’s plan, Anubis would have endless aether in Purgatory. While Kivera could actively look for something without Thancred’s warriors hunting her down or killing her.

Kivera glares over towards G’raha Tia.

“It was you, that enabled him to cross worlds wasn’t it?” He shrinks back.

“He begged me to do it. To send him there.” He did not lie to her, he could not lie to someone who can see the truth. She would pull it out of him in the same manner she did Thancred.

“He’s an idiot. And you are one as well. All of you. Your deeds do nothing but annoy me. I wonder how you all will fall from here without him. I’ll be watching from the shadows.” Kivera leaves them not entertaining them longer with her own pain. She had a more important role to do, a soul that needed her was in Acheron.

She leaves The Source the same way she entered, through a mirror. A conduit between dimensions for her. After she passes through it, she shatters it. The group looks between each other, they truly wonder how to press forward without Thancred. Kivera showed them the truth of what he had done, they couldn’t be upset with her. They were upset that she didn’t seek them out. Yet they were enemies because of Thancred sending people out to eliminate Shuri as a threat.

His own undoing because he feared Shuri would have eventually harmed Ryne, or any of the people they fought so hard to save.

The shores of Acheron was always in a dense fog, Kivera looks among the many hooded figures. She focuses for a specific shine to a soul, one she knows, and the other ferrymen would know as one of her spirits she has marked. She finally sees her, and drops in front of her.

Shuri almost bumps into her, the face that greets Kivera is one she is glad to see. Herself, pristine white, a look of fear in her mismatched eyes. Kivera takes the ladle she was given full of water and pours it out before she can drink the water of Lethe. If she had let her, she would truly be lost to her. Kivera knows the expression, anyone would in the underworld. Confused of where to go, who to follow, no direction other than waiting for the Charon or herself.

“Let’s get you to Paradise. It’s where your family waits.” Kivera knows her soul is pure, she has seen it from the very start, she shined like Divinity, a reason the reaper was drawn to her. If there was ever a soul to take over as the spirit of Virgo, she would easily replace Beatrice with Shuri. She fell into the category of qualifying for one of the star spirits. Endless tragedy on a soul marked for destiny she didn’t want.

“I can’t wait to see them... it feels like ages since I have held them. Won’t they be confused? They felt me die..” Kivera presses her forehead to Shuri’s showing her bright gold eyes, relief flashing through her irises, brief in blue at the mention of her death, then softens down to a soft green.

“The older ones will be easier to explain than the younger. I think they’ll be more happy to see you, over wondering why they felt you gone. Estinien, I still have to track him down. I’ll let him know you are safe now in my domains.” Shuri is lead to a boat that Kivera has waiting for them to begin their travel.

“Why are they not in your sanctuary?” Shuri asks as she is seated, Kivera uses her scythe as an oar to guide them. The first time Shuri has seen her do this, she notices how her reaper looks alot different, she remembers this form from the first time she took her to her home. This was the full angel of death, the one face she keeps hidden from all that lives.

“Divinity and Parn took them to Paradise where it was safer, so they didn’t feel my anger and pain. So I didn’t scare them. Children should never witness someone in pain the way I was.. I didn’t want them to feel that hatred I had. Or feel off of it. They’re in safe hands. The very realm I safeguard is of peace.” Shuri is still confused, yet Kivera is sure of herself. She is relieved they’re safe, even for Kivera being safe. She knows she wouldn’t fall in a fight with Thancred, but if he had recruited a white mage or Ryne. It would have been different.

Shuri knows that she is not immortal. That scared her as much as her own death, that she could lose her permanently.

Once they had crossed from the main section of the Underworld into the burning Sanctuary, Shuri understands why she had them moved. Her rage would have burned them, her sanctuary is linked with her emotions and power. If she loses herself, her world burns like her heart does.

“All of the souls you housed here are in Paradise too?” She remembers all of the other child souls she lets roam her home.

“They are. I would never do anything that will scare them worse than when they died.” Kivera stops their travel to take care of her home. She quells her own anger and rage inside, while repairing the small place. Regeneration to the things that were within the domain, her books, scrolls, the ground, house, everything touched by her fire to restore.

Like a phoenix to renew from the ashes. as if it was never burning a few minutes ago.

Kivera looks back to Shuri, and helps her out of the boat, to guide her to the house in the center. Something she does with each soul she saves from the shores.

Kivera lets her have time to recollect herself, have real food she hasn’t eaten in what felt like years as Anubis. Bathe and heal her spirit from what she had endured. Let her cry it out over being killed. Kivera let’s Shuri rest on her lap hand guided through her hair to comfort her.

“You’ve done this for alot of souls.” The words come out idle, the meek voice hoarse a little from the screams and cries she had let out.

“Divinity. She died a similar way to you. Pursued, hunted down, killed for a “just” cause, because the people were afraid of her and her father Seth. Just because they feared the unknown. I don’t know if Divinity told you her story herself. I sat with her as she burned. She smiled the whole time, she resigned herself the same way you did to Thancred. Just.. accepted her death. I petted her head the same way here.” Kivera cards her fingers through her hair from forehead to a horn.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you... I’m sorry I failed your children... Estinien... Ardbert... I...” Kivera bows her head into the side of Shuri’s head and finally cries. Shuri feels her tears in her hair and on her face. Shuri places a hand to Kivera’s face and rubs gently.

“You protected me as much as you could. I am here now, you did so much to keep me safe. You protected our children, you protected me to the very end, stained your hands when you didn’t want to. You did everything you could.” Shuri turns her head to see the deep blue irises Kivera has, Kivera looking away in shame at her failure, till the auran girl grabs her by her hair and gives her a full kiss.

Kivera feels a hand at the back of her head threading through her hair the same way she had been doing to Shuri’s. Comforting as she holds her giving them the time they need to compose themselves before they go to Paradise. To have her see their children.

For now, Kivera wanted to keep her to herself, just be a little selfish. Shuri allows her to be. Kivera is thankful she did not have a repeat of Damien, her losing all of her memories, being forced to watch her from afar as a pact. Being the one that houses all of what they knew. To mourn a second time.

The reaper knows not to keep her from her children long, she knows more than anything how much she wants to see them. So after gathering her back into the boat they arrived in. She continues their path on towards Paradise.

Kivera ringing a bell to open its gate.

#and leaving it there~#because this is getting long!#kivera x shuri #some angst and fluff in there #I apologize on Thancred fans sincerely #Kivera Siverstein #shuri fontaye #thancred waters #tw death in here #darkwarden au

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mirroralchemist · 4 years ago

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*obligatory FFXIV Nameday fic*

Word Count: 6619 (again a long fic, I’m sorry) Notes: Okay look, it’s October. My birthday was in August. I was supposed to finish this by August. LEAVE ME ALONE ABOUT THAT. But for reals this fic ran away from me a long while. I tried to make it a feel good fic from beginning to end but some angst had to get in there a little bit. I chalk it up to Ami being old af and she’s just in a mood(tm), mind you she’s only a year or two younger than Urianger. Also after 5.0 setting so SPOILERS.

Again thanks to @but-two-days-old for being my Urianger interpreter because THIS FEATURES A BIT OF HIM AND TRYING TO WRITE IT MYSELF MAKES ME EFFIN CRINGE MAN AND WAS LIKE 10% OF THE REASON I GOT STUCK ON WRITING. I love his way of talking but trying to write it, whew childe.

A knock on my door brings me out of my morning activities. I particularly had nothing to do, but to maybe catch up on business I haven’t attended to in The Source. The knocking became more insistent as gathered myself together.

“Just a moment.” I called.

I eventually made the trip to said door, ready to give a bit of a remark about it being so godsdamned early. The words died on my lips as I saw who it was, a slight blush forming on my cheeks.

“Mornin’ Ami. I hope you weren’t sleeping.”

My eyes wandered over to Thancred. He seemed unusually chipper for the time of day it was. I winced at his mood.

“I wasn’t. In fact I was just getting ready to start on my morning training.”

“Perfect!” he spoke, “Mind a partner?”

I blinked for a moment. The request taking a moment to process in my mind. I scanned him up and down, noticing that he was appropriately dressed for such an endeavor. It strike me as odd, seeing as I never really told anyone my schedule during my down times. It could be that he just wanted to spend more time with me.

If I were to be honest, it was still hard to believe that we are in a relationship.

In the end I relented. Mayhap having a partner could prove beneficial, especially someone as well trained as Thancred. More than someone I love, I looked up to him as a mentor and valuable friend. I nodded as I stepped out of my room.

“Okay then, you might find a Monk’s training a bit different than what you’re accustomed to.”

* * *

The sun was set high in the sky by the time we walked into the threshold of the Crystarium.

The session had turned out to be quite fulfilling. There was a quite different experience of having an actual being to train with, rather than the usual striking dummies or imaginary opponents in my head. I glanced over to Thancred to see how he fared. Per usual, he seemed not as bothered.

Quite the opposite in fact, if that slight smile on his face was any indication.

It would only make my cheeks color faster. Remembering more so the downtime between each training session. The swollen lips and splotches of red hidden by my hair. He caught me staring. That only seemed to make his smile wider.

“That is becoming quite the color on you my dear.”

He only laughed as my blush became deeper.

I soon felt his arm around my shoulders, casually stroking the bare skin. Soon a pair of hurried steps made our way. We had almost separated, if it wasn’t for the fact that the steps belonged to Ryne. I smiled at the girl, though her expression seemed slight panicked.

“There you two are. I have been looking all around for you.”

“Sorry Ryne, training took more than expected.” I said.

She shook her head, “No, that’s quite alright. The Exarch had wanted to meet with us as soon as possible.”

I separated from Thancred as I crossed my arms, a thoughtful look crossed my face.

“Have he finally made progress in getting the others home?”

Ryne only shook her head.

“I don’t know. He just informed me it was important to get everyone together. The others are already in the Ocular waiting.”

I looked at Thancred, who only looked at me with a sudden seriousness. A brief nod was all it took before I followed after Ryne. It was automatic, going through the Aetheryte plaza to the Dossal gate. Up those familiar grand set of stairs to head inside the Crystal Tower, as I had always done since coming to The First. The guard there and Ryne shared the briefest of nods before opening the door to let us in. I calmed at the quietness as we entered. I always have a sense of nostalgia going here, even though it was not quite the same Crystal Tower I explored in Mor Dhona.

I was once told trying to make sense of time is quite an undertaking.

We reached the set of doors that would take us into the Ocular and stopped. I cocked my head to the side. Normally we would just walk in since the Exarch was expecting us. Instead, Ryne gave a few quick rasps on the double doors.

“They are here as you asked.”

“Thank you, send them in.” came the muffled reply.

Ryne moved out of the way and a slight push from Thancred put me at the front of the doors. They wanted me to open it, it seems. It didn’t quite match up in my mind what was going on. But it would not have been the first time I was suddenly thrust into odd circumstance. I put my hands on the door handles and pulled.

Only to be met with a flood of confetti.

I paused for the longest moment. My mind catching up to the suddenness of the past moments. I looked around the room. Celebratory decorations all around the perimeter of the crystalline blue walls with the floor sprinkled with the selfsame confetti (which hadn’t made a pile where I stood). In the middle stood a table, somewhat small but not too grand.

Placed right in the middle was a cake.

“Oh dear, I think we broke her.” came Thancred’s reply.

I shook my head out of the thoughts. I looked around some more. There I saw each of my companions, my family gathered in the room. Each one of them having the warm smile on their faces as they looked at me. In the center was G’raha probably smiling the warmest of them all. A larger hand soon fell upon my head, delicately removing the shredded paper that stuck to my blue locks.

“Dost knowest thine significance of this day, no?”

“Time is always a fickle subject to accurately discern.” G’raha began to explain, “So the dates may not exactly line up here in The First. But, if we were go to by the date of the Source, then today would be-”

“The Third Sun of the Fourth Umbral Moon.” I finished, “My nameday.”

A few nods confirmed it.

For a moment, I didn’t react. Other than the surprise of the gathering, I was curious about how they knew of my nameday. I turned to look at Thancred, who looked quite pleased with himself.

“You were the distraction.” I surmised.

“Well, not entirely.”

I let a small sigh come out. The hand was was previously in my hair found its way intertwined with my own. The size easily dwarfing my own. I instinctively leaned into Urianger, feeling comforted by his being.

“Thank you all, really. But I never mentioned my nameday.”

“Tis true, thou didst not breathe a word of it to anyone; pray allow me to explain.” Urianger explained, “I recently chanced to hear from Mistress Tataru that thine nameday had not long ago passed-such 'twas a reminder that despite mine intent to do so, I most regretfully failed to impart unto our dear friends the importance of that approaching day, as we all are gathered so rarely and oft have far more pressing matters to discuss at those times. Yet this could not be let to stand, and at once did I hurry to make right mine unfortunate mistake.”

I looked towards him, seeing the twinge of regret in his eyes. I almost wanted to tell him that it was fine, after all I never bought it up. But seeing the how earnest he wanted to rectify (what he thought) a mistake I couldn’t tell him so. I suppose that was one of the reasons why I had grown to be enamored with him. I patted his back in a comforting fashion.

“My story of finding out...” G’raha added, “Isn’t as glamorous and not meant to be explained, given the intended mood of today. It seemed Urianger and I are like-minded when it was soon realized the day was fast approaching. We told the others and they agreed. Everyone here you helped in some fashion or another; without asking for a thing in return. Let us thank you by celebrating the day you came into this life, dear friend.”

“Raha…” I began to say.

I was speechless at his words. Speechless and a little homesick. Of course, I could come and go to Eorzea as I pleased. But becoming as close as I was to the Scions over our journey here it wouldn’t have felt the same. I rubbed at my eyes to stop the tears threatening to fall.

“If Thancred wasn’t so eager to provide the distraction, we would have put the Exarch to the task.” Alisaie quipped, “If we had agreed to his every whim, you would have had a nameday festival a week long. Understandably, he wouldn’t have realized that you would not want such publicity so in the end we decided to ban his involvement beyond making your cake.”

“Wha-hey!”

Despite my best efforts, a rather undignified laugh came out. I could honestly see it playing out exactly how Alisaie described. She looked quite pleased that her observations got a reaction out of me while G’raha gave a weary but appreciated smile.

“If we are done with explanations,” Y’shtola mentioned, “may I suggest we have our friend blow out the candles? I do not think scraping melted wax off the cake was a part of our plan today.”

I smiled at her before separating myself from Urianger. I took my time to examine the cake and its design. It was a simple, two layered cake with white whipped icing and berries placed on it. Two candles adorned each side of the top of the cake, the flames flickering ever so. Now, I had only dabbled in the Culinarian guild when I had first started but I can tell that considerable care went into its creation. The surge of happiness welled stronger in this realization. I took a deep breath. Giving a silent thanks to the gods for allowing me to have such a personal moment with my friends, I blew out the candles.

A chorus of applause and more confetti rained down on my head. This time, I didn’t stop the tears from flowing for they were of happiness. My heart wanting to burst with the tangible love I saw from each person in this room. I vaguely felt Urianger’s hands rubbing my shoulders in small circles to ease my tears.

It was a far cry from a short while ago; in which I was complacent in not welcoming this day.

“Come now Ami this is a joyous occasion, no tears here.” Alphinaud spoke.

I gave a nod.

The tears eventually stopped and the celebration got underway. It was a quiet affair, all things considered. I didn’t mind it overmuch. It reminded me of the namedays I had back home. There was only the three of us back then. Before I became an adventurer and subsequently a Warrior of Light. I could still remember how my guardians, as busy as they were, would always took a moment out to celebrate my nameday. Being raised in two different cultures it was never a dull moment.

I truly had missed them.

Once this is all over, I’ll go see them again.

Alisaie soon stood in front of me, her hands behind her back. She looked a bit embarrassed; although I would never point that out to her. Soon she thrust her hands forward to put an item in my hands.

“There!”

I blinked before looking down at what was exactly in my hands. It was a rapier. The blue crystal blade sparkled against the lights of the room. It was fairly light and I could feel the magicks imbued in such a weapon. I looked up at her, clearly confused.

While I had been working on my arcane skills to put to rest the other cardinal virtues, I never once mentioned it to the others.

Much less the methods to combat them.

“I had heard from the townsfolk in Mord Sorq that there are a couple of hunters trying to get rid of a particular sin eater there. I had to have figured it was your doing, as is your wont to help everyone you come across. They only came to me in realization that you were fighting in a similar style. Although I am quite cross you didn’t come and tell me you were going to fight in this way.”

“Sorry?” I meekly said.

“’Tis fine, ‘tis fine.” she waved off, “I fully expect to see you in battle with it sooner or later yes?”

“Of course,” I answered with a smile.

“Since my sister so subtly announced, I suppose it is time to give our gifts.” Alphinaud mentioned.

He stepped up to me as I put the rapier in my pack. I looked at him, still catching myself in awe that the young man before me was the haughty boy I had met when I had just joined with the Scions. Bearing witness to his growth during our travels in Ishgard and even now, I was proud of him. He placed a tin into my free hands. Simplistic in design and only wrapped with a singular ribbon. But even at this range I could pick up the fragrant scent of dried tea leaves emanating from within.

“I confess, it was quite difficult to decide on a gift for you. I even asked the Chais for their suggestions on the matter. They send their regards and insist you visit when you next happen upon Eulmore. Despite my many explanations they were rather insistent to personally hand their nameday gift to the, in their own words, ‘maiden I am enamored with’.”

I could see the light dusting of blush on his pale skin. I chuckled softly as I pulled him into a hug. I felt him stiffen for the slightest moment before relaxing into it. I was not one who usually show such affections for him, we usually had a silent understanding of our familial relationship.

“Thank you Alphinaud.” I spoke in earnest, “I shall go see the Chais at my earliest convenience.”

As we parted, another stepped up; Y’shtola in fact. The Miqo’te woman stood before me. Despite my greater height, I still at times felt smaller towards her. Someone who was assured of herself and her path, qualities I hoped that in my time here in the First I had somewhat began to grasp for myself. In her gloved hands was a hairpin. My crafting more so favored alchemic creations, but I could see the quality behind the simplistic design.

“You really shouldn’t hav-”

“Don’t be so modest now,” she interjected, “It is your nameday and it is completely allowed for you to be spoiled. For future reference, you ought to be more forthcoming with your hobbies. It was quite the task to discern a gift for someone who is quite secretive about what makes her happy.”

Her bluntness always took me by surprise regardless of hearing it so many times. I had appreciated that about her. It was why I could come to her for advice. I nodded at her words. Then she gave me a subtle wink as she went to affix the pin to the side of my hair.

“Much better. Your bangs were becoming a mess.”

I had fiddled with the looser part of my bang, suddenly self conscious. Y’shtola only chuckled at my reaction. I was not weary of the chuckle, but she always seemed to know more than what she lets on at times. I could never forget how she figured so soon about my more personal activities. The unmistakable clinks of jewelry intermingling with shifting robes could only tell me of one person who was approaching next. I crane my head to meet the gaze of Urianger. A subtle silence fell upon us.

A slight flourish of a bow before placing in my hands a tome. No, not a tome exactly but a journal. It was the same size of the one I normally carried during my more creative excursions. My hands ghosted over the dark blue, nearly black, leather bound cover. A quick thumb through saw the completely blank pages, with a thin ribbon used as a marker. I looked up at him once more noticing how his golden eyes sparkled in satisfaction. It made me feel a touch guilty, it certainly couldn’t have been an affordable item.

“Thank you, but I cannot accept this,” I said, extending the journal back into his space, “You especially did not need to give me anything. We wouldn’t even be celebrating my nameday if it wasn’t partially for you.”

He placed his hands on top of mines. I had hoped he would accept my decision. But in a rare bout of stubbornness, he pressed the journal towards my chest our hands never breaking contact.

“’Tis a small price to pay for the continued pleasure of your existence.”

“But-”

Before I could complete my protest, I was softly kissed. I blinked for a moment, noticing how Urianger’s tanned skin took on a slightly dusty shade as blush. He was not one for displays of affection such as this. It was still new to me as well. His thumb easily stroking the distance of my own hands. His gaze softened into a fond affection; one I could never tell if the nature was in friendship or love.

“Prithee accept this,” he spoke in a calming gentle tone, “'Tis but a small token of mine appreciation, for the compassion thou hast shown me when mine actions hath left me most undeserving of it...and a token I most deeply hope to bequeath unto thee not only this day, but for as many more of thy namedays as I may be privileged to be some small part of."

He had spoken it softly, but with such conviction. I looked away, his words having an effect on me. I nodded minutely, having no reason to refuse the gift now. His hands and left mines, one going to rest on the small of my back. It lingered there for quite some time before the affectionate gaze morphed into one of satisfaction and lips curled into a wry smile.

Oh, it seems that he did pick up a few habits from the pixies; the devious man.

“Um…”

I soon turned my attention to the small voice. I was soon met with Ryne’s shy posture. Her hands were behind her back as she looked at me with a quiet stare. It was honestly looking at myself at her age. Perhaps it was why I took an immediate liking to her. I waited patiently, not pushing her to speak her mind until she was ready.

“I wasn’t exactly sure what to get in these kinds of gatherings. But Captain Lyna said that these were good. So I figured you might like them too.”

She revealed soon after in her hands was a satchel. I took the item from her and unwrapped it, realizing it was foodstuff inside. Biscuits if my eyes were correct.

“They’re coffee biscuits.” she added, “It isn’t much but I hope you enjoy them. You’ve done a lot for me. I appreciate your strength and kindness, especially when I needed it most.”

I managed to free a hand to pat her gently on her head. I smiled softly at her honesty. My heart warming at seeing her slowly become more relaxed at the acceptance of my gift.

“Thank you Ryne, truly. I believe with Alphy’s tea I’ll enjoy these all the more.”

I heard a snort behind me, most likely Alisaie. Along with the hushed murmurs of Alphinaud. Ryne stepped back from me, making her way back to the side of her (basically) guardian. My eyes found itself locking into Thancred’s. He seemed somewhat guarded, something I wasn’t wholly unused to. No, ever since we met again in this land he had always taken up that sort of reaction. Taking his task as a Gunbreaker to heart, I’d speculate.

“Go on.” Ryne spoke to him with a nudge.

He stumbled a little, surprised at the surprising boldness coming from her. He gave the most bewildered look, causing me to chuckle. He seemed to have noticed it too, looking at me with a tired expression. But it was in good spirits. He slowly made his way towards me, stopping just in front. Even now, after everything, being this close still caused me a bit of rush to my chest. He placed a gloved hand on my shoulder, smiling at me.

“Well, I had an entire speech prepared to shower you in unending praise and affection. But Urianger beat me to it. So I suppose something a bit shorter is in order.”

He finished the statement by giving a pointed look at Urianger. He only responded with a knowing smile, the same he gave me.

“At any rate, we would be here for a long time if we were to speak every whisper from our hearts. So I won’t. You already know what is in mines; I’ve spoken them to you so many times in private, I need not repeat them. You have done much, my dear. Most especially for a fool like myself and appreciate every act, now and evermore.”

He placed in my hands a gunblade. I stared at it in confusion. It was my gunblade, in its more compact state. I glanced back at him, ready to question it.

When did he get my gunblade?

“It seems,” he began, seemingly knowing the question, “while you had your talk with Urianger some time ago, you left it behind. I had always intended to give it to you, but seeing as your nameday was approaching, might as well hold off until then no?”

I could only nod numbly to his explanation as I stared right back down at the blade. It looked unassuming and a poor choice of gift. But I could tell, having used it for so long, that it was different. The condition of it was vastly improved, its hairline scratches completely cleared. I stepped back to give it a quick swing, noticing how much faster it shifted from compact to battle states. Smoother as well. I couldn’t test it here but I had an inkling that it would perform better against enemies too.

“You had it augmented?”

The smile on his face only confirmed my inquiry. I let it go back into its compact state before putting it away. I looked around, seeing everyone had their eyes on me. It was as though they wanted me to say a few words. I let my head fall in nerves of what to say. I was never one for public speaking. I took a deep breath before meeting everyone’s gazes once more.

“I honestly don’t know what to say.” I began, “I’m grateful for everything. I may not say it a lot, but thank you for everything. I don’t know where I would be if I didn’t know of your friendships and love.”

Each of them nodded, agreeing with the sentiment.

Eventually we all had settled into a comfortable atmosphere around the Ocular. I assume we all needed a small respite from our separate endeavors. Even if it meant I would be a bit embarrassed about having attention focused on me. I could bear it for the day.

Though, I couldn’t help the feeling I was being watched.

Granted that it was my nameday; it should have been normal to being watched. This felt different. I looked around eventually finding that the source of the stare was Alisaie. She just stared at me. It wasn’t an exactly uncomfortable stare but it was scrutinizing. Once more she made her way to me, as the small pout formed on her face.

She was more temperamental than Alphinaud, so I could never quite prepare for her.

“Ami,” she began carefully, as if she was considering her words, “It’s none of my business who you spend your personal time with and I know you won’t do it on purpose. But don’t you hurt Urianger. He’s family and I’ll see to it if you do.”

I blinked slowly, letting her words sink in.

A full blush settled on my face. She was quite serious in her warning. The way she put her hands to her hips and settled into a warning glare. There was a vague thought of her bluntness rivaling Y’shtola’s.

“Are you sure about that claim Sister?”

Alisaie and I turned our focus towards the source of the question. Alphinaud had heard us and was soon standing beside us. He seemed to be in thought.

“It was not that long ago I had seen her and Thancred around the Crystarium and they seemed particularly close.” he noted.

If I could I would have blushed even deeper. I knew exactly the moment Alphinaud had witnessed. It had began as just a simple walk around the city but it soon escalated into something much more intimate.

...nevermind the fact that we were meeting with Urianger that day.

“I am not particularly knowledgeable on the subject but I am sure friends do not kiss in the way those two do.”

“Surely you can see that Ami’s heart has always been for Thancred?” Alphinaud countered.

“And I am not denying that, dear brother,” Alisaie said, “but I am telling you that there is more than mere friendship...unless…”

“Unless?”

I could see Alisaie in deep thought over her words. I remained silent on the matter, embarrassed about what was transpiring. It seemed painful long minutes before she finally looked up at me. I could see the faint color on her cheeks while her eyes widen in surprise towards me.

“She’s seeing them both at the same time.” she suddenly said.

Now, a lot happened in that moment.

I was not sure if she knew, but she had reached that conclusion rather loudly. An immediate silence fell over the room. Suddenly all eyes were on me. A rather undignified gasp left me like I had been gut punched.

Although, it wouldn’t be too far from the truth.

“Finally!” came Y’shtola’s voice, “We can stop pretending we did not know.”

My head turned so fast to the Miqo’te who only responded in kind with a sly wink. A part of me should have known it wouldn’t have escaped her notice. Oh gods, I wanted to go back to my quarters at that moment.

“Come now,” she continued, “you honestly did not think it would escape our notice your particular affinities in recent times? You can do a lot, Ami, but when it comes to your feelings it is very clear.”

I opened my mouth to attempt to speak, but promptly close it. There was no point to refute it. Especially since it was never my intent to hide my relationships. I just hung my head low and let out a hard sigh. I soon felt both my hands being grabbed, seeing that Urianger and Thancred had each taken a hand. They seemed to share a look before leading me right out of the Ocular.

“Now then,” Thancred said, “since everything is out in the open. Fine time to whisk our damsel away for a more private nameday celebration, no?”

The way he emphasized private left no doubt what he had implied. I heard a chorus of groans from the others as I threw an apologetic glance at them.

"Thancred, mayhap 'twould be best for thou to keep some secrets...?” I heard Urianger remark.

His eyes were suddenly staring at the back of my neck.

…where the hickeys from Thancred’s “distraction” still laid.

* * *

It was late at night, I realized. I stared up at the ceiling of my room within the Pendants. My body feeling a pleasant high while my brain tried to focus from the haze of sleep and blissful release from the last few hours. Celebrations that continued quite long into the night, showing a much more physical appreciation of my nameday. Thinking of it now brought a tingle though my body. As content I was at the present moment, the need to move was greater. Carefully I left my bed.

As careful as I could considering I was sandwiched between an Elezen and a Hyur quite adamant on lavishing me on physical affection.

Once I was up and dressed in more modest sleepwear, I stared at their sleeping forms. It was odd to think that in such a short time I would find myself in this setting. The me back then would have never scarcely believe myself being the focus of affection for two men. I shook my head from the thoughts and walked towards the dining table. My eyes scanned over each of the gifts given to me for my nameday as it reminded me how much I was cared for.

It was these reminders that help me see that I am more than my duty.

I poured myself a mug of water and began to drink from it. It wasn’t long before I heard the soft knocking. Who could have been out here so late, I wondered. The knocking grew a bit insistent, but never rising.

Most likely knowing the occupants in my quarters.

I opened the door, surprised it was G’raha on the other side. Still in his Exarch attire I see. His crimson eyes not quite looking at my blues while his hands wrung nervously. It reminded me of him approaching my room before we were to meet to discuss the last Lightwarden.

Had G’raha always been this shy?

“Forgive me for the late visit.” he spoke, “I did not want to...interrupt your prior engagements if I had came earlier.”

I shook my head at him, blushing that he indeed knew exactly what was going on.

“It’s fine. What can I do for you?”

“Walk with me?” he asked.

I stood at the threshold of my door for a moment, thinking of his request. It did not escape my notice that he was awfully quiet during the get-together. I had wanted to thank him as well since he was the other half of the celebration even happening. But then I was whisked away before I could get a word in.

“If you’re gonna go,” came Thancred’s sleepy murmur, “go.”

My head instantly turned to my bed. Only to meet gazes with Urianger. The sheet had pooled around his waist, giving me quite an eyeful of his bare chest. Even after all this time, it still takes me by surprise how fit he actually is under the robes.

“If there is aught thou yet wouldst say to another, prithee go and do so” he spoke, absently stroking Thancred’s hair.

I don’t think he knew he was doing that consciously; or maybe he did with how his gaze softened so at the touches.

“- that any further distractions may be far from thy mind tonight.”

I nodded. Not that I needed their permission, but I felt comforted all the same of their acceptance of the late night excursion. I slipped on a pair of shoes before closing the door behind me. G’raha seemed surprised at my choice of attire, refraining from any comments on it. The walk was quiet, save for the workings of those who were on the nightly shift of the city. A sense of peace washed over me every time I walked through the Crystarium, it felt like home for me. Many minutes passed in this mutual silence until we walked up the stairs of one of the watchtowers looking over the city.

The very same I was told was G’raha’s favorite spot which transformed into mines as well.

From there we stared at the Crystal Tower. A wave of nostalgia filled me, yes it was reminiscent of the night before we ventured into the void. It seemed he too reached the same thought, if the wistful gaze towards the tower was any indication.

“Thank you for seeing me so late, my friend.”

“No trouble.” I waved off, “It’s the least I can do. You’re the other half why we celebrated my nameday.”

He settled into a smile then. He took some breaths, setting his eyes towards me once more. There was a different air around us. Something set by the wealth of changes both of us had gone through from that night on the Eight Sentinels.

“I cannot help to feel like the young man from then being like this.” he admitted.

He grabbed something from his robes before pressing it into my hands. It was a small box, I realized. I blinked at the container before looking up at him once more. A smattering of a blush across his face as he absently scratched at his crystallized cheek.

“Before you can protest, I wanted to at least give you a gift. The others may have prohibited my involvement with planning but they said nothing of gifts.”

I frowned at him slightly before setting out another sigh. I reluctantly accepted the box and opened it. For a solid moment I was stilled from shock. My eyes settled on the item quickly glancing at him before looking back down at the item once more.

“If I could, I would give all of myself for you. But I hope this is enough.”

I couldn’t help the full on blush creeping onto my skin. Very few moments in life now catch me genuinely off guard, this was one of them. Was he-? I shook my head. He couldn’t have. He knew now of my situation.

“Raha,” I began to say in a firm tone, “It’s a ring.”

“Yes, it is.”

“But it’s a ring.” I say again.

His brows knitted close, thinking of my statement. It must have been a full minute before they rose, his ears rising too. That blush bloomed as he came close to being just as red as part of his hair.

“Oh...no.” he finally said, “Oh! I-I had only meant that I wished to fight by your side more. To help more than I had prior. I did not mean-that isn’t to say that what I feel for you isn’t similar but...Ah! Forget I said that!”

I watched as he fretted about his words. He seemingly confessed more than he intended. Seeing him so brought a chuckle out of me, rising until it was a full laugh. Tears started rolling down my face at him. He noticed my state, frowning a little but eventually joining in the laughs too.

“I’m sorry,” I said between fits of laughter, “I am not laughing at you. Just, I missed this.”

The sounds of our joined laughs kept on for quite a while. When it settled enough we both were sitting on the ground. As I regained my composure, I put the ring on my index finger. It was a perfect fit. I was a bit suspect how exactly my ring size was known so readily. But that would be a question for another time. It was slight, but I felt the hidden power behind the jewelry. It was simple; something that actually fit with what I preferred in my gear. I slung an arm around his shoulders and brought him close to my side. I felt him stiffen at the touch, eventually relaxing into it.

“Thank you Raha. For everything.”

I touched at my heart with my free hand.

I released my arm from his shoulder and hugged my knees to my chest. I let out a small breath as I looked towards the Crystal Tower once more.

“You called me your inspiration. But I feel the opposite is true as well.” I confessed.

He turned to look at me, eyes widening in shock.

“I had decided I was going to work harder so that when you awoke, the realm would be far better than the state it was when you slept. Even as the weight of the path became heavy to bear at times. You had inspired me to keep going even if I felt less than adequate for the task. I have Her Blessing, but when you strip that away what else is the-ah. Forgive me, you called me out here and here I am unloading my burdens.”

“No! No, please. Continue, I want to hear it all. I feel honored that you trust me with your burdens my friend.”

It took a moment but I nodded. Hearing him call me his friend made it easier. Whether it was the atmosphere around us or the realization I was older now made it easier to give words to these thoughts.

“Some times I think if I did not have Hydaelyn’s blessing, what else is there to me? I see the people I fight with and wonder how I found myself into their fold. I’m not as smart as Urianger and Y’shtola. I cannot gather information like Thancred can. I barely know how to broker diplomatic relationships like Alphinaud. And Alisaie, she goes to her convictions with such zeal that I can’t even began to imitate. Even Ryne, as new as she was, has taken to the legacy she inherited and molded it into her own self. I look at all of them and then look at myself.”

G’raha did not say anything for a long time. I feared that I had said too much for him. I did not want anyone else to feel guilt over these words. I heard the shuffle of him standing up and moving. It wasn’t for long before he stood over me, looking intently into my eyes. He seemed to glow with the back light of the night sky and the Crystal Tower’s illumination.

“That might quite possibly be true.” he conceded, “You do not have quite the same extensive qualities the other Scions do. But are you aware of what you do have? Kindness, a readiness to help others on your own accord. Oh how I hear about your praises all around the city. Your knowledge of topics may not be as vast, but you acknowledge it and try to make an effort to expand it. Whenever the others report while you are resting, nary any report goes by without some mention of the gratitude of what your presence brings to the table. You have an inner strength Ami. An inner strength so beautiful and shining that it draws others towards you. It drew me towards you, it was how I knew you would be remembered by all walks of life my dearest friend. That is something that was never blessed upon you, it’s always there and can never be stripped away. Remember that when the weight of your burdens become too much.”

I fell silent at his words as it pulled at my chest. I was almost ready to cry. To hear those words so fervently. Somewhere within I should have known this. But I hadn’t and it took this to realize it. His hands reached out and touched at my cheeks, wiping the stray tears away. His expression softened.

“No tears. Your partners would be quite displeased if I returned you in such a state.”

I laughed lightly as I rose from my seat. I nodded to myself before gathering G’raha into an embrace. The little mewl of surprise did not escape my ears and only spurned me to use my physical strength to lift him up a touch off the ground.

“Thanks Raha.” I said again, “My dearest friend. Thank you.”

#shit writing #writing things #fan fic #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fiction #Final Fantasy XIV #Final Fantasy 14 #FFXIV #FF14 #5.0 spoilers #In which my WoL gets outed for being in a poly relationship #Thancred/WoL/Urianger #LISTEN I WILL DIE ON THIS SHIPPING HILL #Ami loves them both and there's nothing you can say that will change my mind #Ami got banged on her nameday offscreen #RYNE JUST HAS TWO DUMBASS DADS AND A SISTER MOM NOW #There's also some UriThan if you squint #and not so subtle WoL/Exarch

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baidar-oroq · 4 years ago

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14-Part

(Setting: Mor Dhona, after “Tooth and Nail” and “Ultracrepidarian”)

Darya was starting to notice that Baidar was spending a sizable amount of time in Mor Dhona since her training with Y’shtola had begun in earnest.

It did not take a genius to figure out why, after all, and she knew it had little to do with her. After the long ordeal of Y’shtola and the other Scions being trapped in a living death while their souls had been on the First, he simply wanted to be near her as much as he could. After all, with his ability to easily teleport insane distances from aetheryte to aetheryte, he could pop home to Shirogane with a snap of his fingers, and Kage certainly didn’t begrudge him spending some time with Y’shtola, after all. “Just make sure he gets home in time to help wrangle the kids in, unless there’s a crisis,” Kage had told her, and she did her best to do that. Baidar, at times, was a force of nature, but he adored his adopted family, and usually could be steered home easily enough. Otherwise, Baidar was a frequent presence in the Rising Stones, occupying one of the tables, his long legs propped up on a chair or the table itself, trading witticisms with Thancred or engaging in an activity he called “dunking on Alphinaud” with Alisaie.

Darya privately felt bad for Alphinaud for all of the teasing, but he seemed to take in stride, with a good nature. Which given the sheer volume of teasing that Alisaie could launch on her better days was necessary for him.

She was sitting at one of the tables with Y’shtola, taking a bit of a break from training, drinking water while Y’shtola drank her customary tea, when Baidar arrived in his typical fashion of essentially tackling the chair, landing in a slouch. “Ladies. How goes it?” he asked.

“You are going to break one of the chairs, sooner or later,” Y’shtola remarked. “And then you’ll earn the wrath of Tataru because she’ll have to replace it.”

“Kage’s a carpenter, he’d replace it.”

Y’shtola laughed. “Baidar, dear, I know Kage’s already very busy with his carpentry work. And he’d not want you making Tataru cross anyway.”

“Hmph. I mean, you’re right, but hmph.”

“Brat.”

Baidar turned to Darya to ask how her training was going; he had to learn that unlike himself, who had the Echo-given gift of learning how to master combat schools by essentially imitating them, Darya couldn’t master magic in no time. Before he could, though, his linkshell went off, and he said “Hold that thought,” as he answered. “Baidar here, what’s up?”

“Baidar, it’s Wedge. Got a problem you might be able to help us with.”

“Always have time for the Ironworks, Wedge. What’s up?”

“We sent a shipment of parts to Mor Dhona from Ishgard recently. Couple of weeks or so. Some of it was materials meant to remain there to manufacture armor and weapons for the House of Splendors to sell. That arrived there on time. The remainder, though, was supposed to be shipped through Vesper Bay to eventually arrive in Limsa for shipment to Kugane. It never arrived.”

“I’m getting the sense I’m not going to like where this is going, Wedge.”

“You’re right to have it. The missing shipment included redundant parts for the barrier protecting Doma. Thankfully none of them are crucial, and we managed to route replacements for them today, but someone picking off that shipment is concerning.”

“Very.” He looked at Y’shtola, who was frowning, having clearly heard the conversation. What do you need me to do?”

“For now, ask the person who arranged to have the parts shipped to Vesper Bay a few questions. Very direct questions, as Jessie suggested.”

“Should just send her down here, she’d have it solved in no time. Fine, that doesn’t seem too difficult. Who do I need to find?”

“A fellow named Vannes Arkwright. His family’s shipping company was going to make the delivery to Limsa, the East Aldenard Trading Company was going to take it from there.”

Baidar closed his eyes and counted to ten. “I’m familiar with him. I’ll see what I can find.”

“Thanks, Baidar. Keep in touch.”

He disconnected and turned to look at Darya for a moment. “Can I borrow Darya for a little bit, Y’shtola?”

“It all depends on why, dear.”

“It seems I have an appointment with a lush that you nearly set on fire.” Baidar grinned. “I already scared him shitless when I overheard him telling someone about your encounter, but he’ll shit bricks if he sees Darya with me.”

Darya stood up. “I’m going with him, if that’s okay?”

“I would not deny you the opportunity, Darya. I thought afterwards that buffoon looked familiar.” She smiled a wicked grin. “Give him hell, you two.”

“We’ll have fun. Come on, Darya.” Baidar launched himself out of the chair, waving for her to follow.

“Is it always like this around him?” Darya asked.

Y’shtola sipped her tea. “Around him, Darya, this is a slow day.”

Vannes Arkwright’s offices were small, nestled in a building just behind the main markets, reached by climbing a flight of stairs that creaked under their weight as they walked up. Baidar privately wondered if the Arkwright family had just stuck their wayward son in a converted attic as they approached the door. It seemed likely, he thought. The door was a simple wooden affair, with a placard hung on that read ARKWRIGHT SHIPPING, which was crooked. Baidar tried to straighten it, and the sign slipped back into its angle. “Fitting,” he said to himself.

“Master...ah...Baidar?” Darya mentally cursed a blue streak in her head; she was, technically, still his retainer, but he’d essentially released her from his service when she’d agreed to learn magic. Habits die hard, she thought. “What was he saying when you overheard him?”

“Ahh. I’ll tell you later. Mostly he assumed you and Y’shtola were involved.” He reached out and tried the doorknob, which opened. “Mostly.”

Thankfully he did not notice her blushing as they stepped into the office.

The office was a small room, the floors paneled with wood, the walls and ceiling otherwise the masonry blocks that were typical of Mor Dhona. It was furnished with a desk, a single wooden chair, and a filing cabinet that looked like it was rusted shut. The room was dimly lit by a single lamp, shining down on Vannes Arkwright, who was, charitably, asleep in his chair. The empty bottle of wine on the desk in front of him suggested that was very charitable. Baidar shook his head, then clapped his hands and shouted “Vannes! It’s your lucky day!”

Vannes yelped loudly as his head snapped up, looking around the room wildly, his eyes bloodshot. He first noticed Baidar and, in a slurred tone, started to say “What are you doing here-” when he spotted Darya, and his voice turned into a squeak.

“Hello.” Darya’s tone was as cold as ice, her eyes narrowed in a glare at Vannes.

He looked from Darya to Baidar, then back again, then he dived behind the desk. “I am most sorry that I cast aspersions on you, madam!” he called. “I had merely been misinformed about...things about you Viera!”

Baidar sat on the edge of the desk and looked down on Vannes. “You know, I am a Warrior of Light, and she’s a gifted huntress and an apprentice thaumaturge. What were you hoping to achieve down there?”

“I...am not sure, khagan?” Vannes had mangled the pronunciation of the word horribly, but Baidar gave him credit for trying. “You’re not here because of the...unfortunate incident, then?”

“Oh, I’m not.” He jabbed a thumb at Darya. “She might be, and that all depends on how you answer my questions.”

Darya punched a fist into her palm. “I might be regardless of how you answer.” She was playing the part of being menacing, which seemed to be what Baidar wanted, but given what she suspected Baidar had heard, it wasn’t much of a reach.

Vannes stood slowly, hands raised as he found his chair again and sat down. “You have me at a loss, though, sir, madam. What is this about then?”

“For reasons completely unclear to me, the Ironworks contracted your family to deliver rather crucial parts from Vesper Bay to Limsa,” Baidar began. “They never reached Limsa.”

Vannes blinked once, then twice. “That’s impossible,” he said. He sat upright in his chair. “That’s the only bloody shipment I’ve made in the past month, I made certain it arrived. I even contacted our warehouse in Vesper Bay, confirmed the delivery. We don’t get a lot of magitek parts here, that usually gets directly routed to Rowena, so I paid attention. I’m certain it arrived safely”

Baidar frowned. “Are you just saying what I want to hear?”

Vannes was quiet for a moment, considering his response. Finally, he spoke. “I am many things, sir. A man...a hero such as yourself...can doubtlessly tell what a lot of them are. But a shipment from the Ironworks of valuable parts that is meant to eventually be delivered to the East Aldenard Trading Company? Even I wouldn’t fuck that up.”

“That’s still up for debate.” Baidar stood and flashed Vannes a grin. “Right, then. Next stop is your warehouse in Vesper Bay then. Best let Y’shtola know before I go, if you still want to go along, Darya.”

She shrugged, doing her best to hide just how interested she was in going with him. “If you want me along, that is.”

“Sure.” He turned and looked at Vannes. “If I find out you’ve lied to me in any way…”

“I won’t be here when you get back,” he replied.

“Excellent! It wouldn’t save you, but I like your spirit. Come on, Darya.”

Vannes did his best not to admire Darya as she left with Baidar-in fairness, that damned Ironworks gear fit like a second skin-and as soon as the door shut he slumped in his chair and let out a deep breath. He needed a drink.

Or ten.

#FFXIVWrite #FFXIVWrite2020 #i KNEW i'd created a recurring character in Vannes Arkwright #the poor bastard

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fistsoflightning · 5 years ago

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i’m jumping in on @whitherliliesbloom‘s fairy au? i’m jumping in! also; i love everyone’s fae au posts and am hoping i don’t heckel anything up here :\

some say they hear birds singing with the breeze; some say they hear a child laughing happily. if you could ask the wind, they'd tell you that is the sylph who tames lightning and myths; this is the fae that names them by the ways of mortals, and their name is zaya, keeper of the secretive mountain aviary.

headcanons (and wavy hand storyline for zaya) below the cut!

zaya is a sylph, more accurately a lightning sylph that tends to birds in the mountain ranges surrounding il mheg! they’re rather reclusive towards other fae, but will occasionally meet with others who fly across the skies doing their thing such as the fae of the night, since they are the one who causes the lightning storms in il mheg’s skies! they themselves are flightless, but to balance that they fly on ochir’s back, a mythical thunderbird they raised themself!

their mountain aviary is very close to the lakeland entrance, and is quite easily seen from settlements in lakeland; however, to obey to the current titania’s wishes, they will cover the aviary in clouds to hide it from mortal eyes.

zaya is not quite your traditional fae friend! they prefer the company of mortals to fae, and often fly down from their mountain home to meet with some of the mortals living in lakeland! they are an avid trader, and deal in fae goods; stardust for lazurite, sugar blooms for sparrow feathers, eternal ice for sunlight catchers; they trade for baubles and objects that catch their eye and fancy before considering use, seeing as they have all they need at home. they’re quite similar to crows, in a fashion; even their clothes have all sorts of bits and bobs that came from mortal children and weavers. their fascination with mortal lives could be tied to a certain set of lost memories that came with the price of becoming a sylph...

when more and more mortals begin to enter the fae kingdom in search of a cure, zaya begins a small service; entrance to the kingdom for a hefty trade, since advisor urianger does not take kindly to their activities. most times, they trade a flight on ochir’s back for a certain type of crystal; auracite. they use the auracite they receive to feed ochir! he needs a good meal of aether to produce proper lightning storms, after all.

(here’s where things get hand wavy; ignore these if shurimun has something else planned!) when the snow mother becomes reclusive herself, zaya has to move their aviary much closer to lakeland and rak’tika than before, leading to an increase in thunderstorms over both areas. mortals begin to attribute this to the curse spreading across and through norvrandt, and curse the thundering skies with a passion. even more people come to them, seeking to cross into the forbidden kingdom to search for an end to the storms and curse before it can destroy all they have.

zaya sees many mortals across, and few back; many die to the harsh conditions found in il mheg; fuath and pixies tricking them into their demise, or the queen’s royal guard finding them and ending them for reasons unknown. of the mortals zaya ferries across, they see many elves and many humes across safely. the first of the mortals to be deemed worthy of a small time as one of them, alphinaud, oft has his sister demanding zaya take them across the mountains despite the fact alisaie herself is ill with this curse. zaya only agrees to take her when a face familiar to many of the snow fairies comes back; thancred waters, the man who betrayed the snow mother’s trust.

thancred remains with zaya in their aviary while alisaie endeavors to join her brother, ochir her (temporary) mount. he and zaya do not get along, at first; he tries to coerce them into speaking about the thunderstorms when they are mute, and they attempt to retrieve the crystalline spring he’d taken for peppermint and the snow mother. neither of them get what they want; the rulers of the mortal kingdom have already taken the spring, and thancred cannot for the life of him get any information from this stubborn sylph!

zaya continues their work (illegally, if you asked advisor urianger) of carrying mortals across, but now they only dare to let those with strong hearts and strong souls across; not many seem to survive the trip into il mheg, they’ve noticed, and when a mystel and viis by the names of tehra’ir and valdis request entrance with a massive haul of auracite, they can hardly decide; these mortals are different than the rest, somehow.

after ferrying them across, a change strikes; there are suddenly no more mortals asking for passage, and zaya finds that the duo have been sneaking around. not to harm any of the fae, no, but to take down their own kind; there have been spies and soldiers alike who have made it past nymph laurelis, and not of zaya’s accord.

okay! that’s all the story/backstory tie in i’ve got rn. i didn’t wanna overstep boundaries, so those of you in the fae au are allowed to ignore parts if you don’t likey! time for some more random headcanons >:3

like lunya, zaya was originally a mortal drahn! they came in the same wave of people, though zaya was an adventurer among plunderers; they hadn’t intended to harm any of il mheg’s inhabitants in their wake.

a greater sylph by the name of sadu saved zaya in the exodus! they were mortally injured at that point from some rather violent fae they had thought to be kind, so sadu inscribed a set of magic tattoos into their arms that took sadu’s faehood and gifted it to them.

the aviary that zaya cares for? it was originally sadu’s! that’s why ochir’s here...

ochir is a mythical thunderbird that spawns the frequent thunderstorms over il mheg! he’s a kind fluffy boy... just don’t hurt him or any of the other aviary birds and you good.

of all the fae zaya is likely to meet, it would be the snow mother and lunya! due to reclusion in mountains and to flying across the skies bringing the stars/storms, zaya would likely have frequent encounters with both of their sisters. what they interact like is up to you!

zaya knows most of the mortals that have snuck their way into il mheg, mostly because they helped them. the ones they do not know are probably hien, aymeric, and estinien! otherwise you can point your fingers at them for it :P

zayacred is a hard maybe they will, maybe they won’t, tbh; i don’t know if shurimun is done with thancred?? i’m not sure if he should/would come back?? i’m drawing a blank but if i can borrow thancred’s character he and zaya absolutely go on a mini excursion after alisaie settles down/gets taken back to the mortal kingdom to go resolve the growing thunderstorm over rak’tika! y’shtola lives with the settlement in slitherbough and has reported of a storm brewing for weeks that is preventing the trees and grass from getting light or rain; rak’tika is slowly dying for some reason...

if the New Mortal Wave goes well, then zaya might come back down from their mountain aviary! since they’re so interested in mortals and their lives, allowing them back into the kingdom would be good reason for the reclusive lightning sylph to rejoin the common society! they left in the first place since a lot of the other sylphs disliked them.

#fairy au #zaya qestir #screenies #imm not sure if this is okay??? im really encroaching on like all yalls storylines by jamming zaya in there #kinda sorta ffxiv #i also... don't like how people are using unreleased glam data for their screens... thats gonna get mods wrecked in the long run...#im sowwy i just gotta yell my thoughts in the tag... but like I REALLY LOVE THE FAE AU I JUST DONT... I DONT KNOW HOW I FEEL #tales from the blue

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efrmellifer · 5 years ago

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Forged in Fury, Tempered in Ice

Since that night, Aymeric had been having a hard time brushing the thoughts from his mind—he’d asked Etien a little more about what she remembered of her relationship with Hades all that time ago, whether she could see through the haze of, what, millennia and the splitting of herself into reflections (apparently).

She had blinked when he’d asked, slowly and a few times, as if she were trying to render her vision capable of reaching back into memories she hadn’t accessed in an eternity.

“We were… close. Friends, nothing more on my end. I suppose people thought our closeness should have bred more between us, but I never… wanted that. I had my heart set on someone else. Though I remember little of that, just that they were beautiful, so beautiful it made me feel fit to burst.” She blinked again. “I remember liking Hythlodaeus better,” she admitted.

Aymeric had cocked his head at that, confusion coloring his voice as he asked, “But you were closer to Hades?”

Etien sighed. “It may well have been that our closeness was facilitated by necessity and then came the friendship, whereas I was always friendly with Hythlo. Or we just got along more easily. I don’t know.” She shrugged, looking disappointed that the facts she had been able to grasp for a moment had slipped from her fingers again.

He tried not to ask her to recall more after that.

But he couldn’t stop thinking about it. The thoughts kept him up at night, and while they had once set his blood boiling, now they just made his heart ache.

Even imagining Etien trapped in the Tempest, in that recreated Amaurot, under the care—not even care, custody—of Emet-Selch, who had invited her there to devolve into beasthood and then mocked her for fighting the transformation, hurt to think about.

They had been close, apparently, but this Emet-Selch seemed more than willing to forget that, so he could rain down insults to this ‘diminished’ version of her, and then he had the nerve to instruct that Etien remember Amaurot? How could anyone forget Etien? Especially if she was then somehow more than she was now. He wanted to protect some star he loved? Protect her. Take care of her.

But then… Aymeric much preferred being the man in charge of that. Yes, the Scions were her constant companions and help in the field, but when they brought her home, who was it that held her and listened to her stories and gave her space to rest, to heal?

He rolled onto his side now, watching Etien as her eyes darted under her eyelids. He often wondered, when he caught a glimpse of her still sleeping deeply, immersed in a dream, what it was she dreamt about. It was… commonplace but strange, for her to be in a world completely inaccessible to him. The only difference from the moons prior, when she had been on the First, was that she was still physically there with him, and bringing her back would be as simple as waking her up.

But he had no need to do that. So instead he watched her, trying to guess at her dreams.

He only hoped they were sweet.

Unfortunately, his hopes were not to be.

For not the first time, and tragically not likely to be the last, Etien was reliving her battles in the realm of dreams.

It was almost as though Aymeric’s thoughts were bleeding into hers, his thoughts of Emet-Selch leading her memories of the fight with Hades to replay on the dark sides of her eyelids.

She remembered… little of the encounter, considering how splintered she had been. Indeed, at least half her shots were a guess as her vision was going white at the edges like a frosting window, and as she focused on running, on preserving her life, what little of it she had left.

Still, she had been brought to the ground for a moment, and no matter how hard she grit her teeth and willed herself to rise, gods damn it, she was struggling to get back up.

And that was when she had seen him, and was seeing him again all the same.

Well, the first thing she saw was Ishgard, but it was who was waiting for her at the gate, a hand extended.

Haurchefant.

The warm friendship of his gaze was breaking through the fog over her eyes, clearing her vision so she could see home behind him, could clearly see the offer of an eternity with him—she remembered clearly now what she had said, that he was the only one who had never asked anything of her—instead of a forever in service of Hydaelyn or at the bottom of the sea, purging the world of the “vermin” Emet-Selch wanted her to eradicate.

She could be a sister and a friend, or she could hang onto this existence and be a weapon.

Gods, the temptation was strong to reach out, to take Haurchefant’s hand and enter his embrace and never have to think about any of these grievances again.

It broke her further that she had to shake her head. The Scions had just tried to save her, they needed her to win so they could make it out of here, so they could make it home.

She needed now to return to the arms of her lover, not of her brother.

So, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes, she did shake her head. “No. I’m sorry. They need me.”

Haurchefant blinked, accepting her answer, and the vision of Ishgard faded from her mind, but not before he curled his hand into a fist, willing her to stay strong.

For him, for Alisaie and Alphinaud, for Y’shtola, for the future Ryne wanted and the apologies Thancred had to make to her, to ensure all Urianger’s work hadn’t been for nothing, for the chance to see Aymeric again and for the Ishgard she would live to see, she rose.

Etien stumbled onto her feet, jaw clenched. Hazy gaze be damned, she would use what little she could see to take her aim and stop Hades.

She woke so suddenly, she sat up, gasping.

“Etien?” Aymeric called from next to her. When she didn’t say anything, still panting from her dream, he laid a hand over hers on the covers. At the touch of his hand, she settled, sighing instead of drawing in another breath, and lying down again.

“What happened?” he asked quietly, brushing back a stray strand of her hair.

“I was dreaming about Hades.”

“When? In the distant past?”

“No.” Etien let her eyes close. “From when we fought. I don’t want to think about it any more.”

Aymeric pulled her close, tucking her under his chin. “Then you do not have to. What do you want to think about?”

“Happy things,” she replied, voice soft with tiredness and interrupted sleep. “Though I guess those are few and far between, aren’t they?”

“Not so rare as you might think. Are you not happy when you climb into bed each night?”

“I… I am,” came her answer, delivered into his throat more than into the air, “but there’s so much to do that I haven’t yet done, so much of it that my happiness feels fake, like I’m ignoring the truth to chase some artificial bliss.”

“Whether or not your tasks are done does nothing to diminish the veracity of the bliss you feel here,” Aymeric told her, hand running along her spine. “When you’re safe and warm, and I intend for you to be, here in my arms, I would hope that you would be at the very least content.”

“I am,” she nuzzled him. “The problem isn’t you, it’s guilt. It’s misplaced obligation. It’s—” she spluttered just a little— “It’s a side effect of being used by Hydaelyn to bring her petty squabbles to the war table.”

Aymeric shushed her gently, not to stop her from speaking but in an attempt to calm her down, when she needed to be sleeping. “I long have said too much is asked of you.”

“Yeah, but what are we going to do?” Etien complained. “I’m uniquely suited for the task at hand, hand-selected as a tool of setting things right. Things I had no hand in other than straightening them out now.” She sighed. “I was little more than a kit when the calamity happened.”

“You were… young,” he said, not wanting to do the math at the late hour.

Etien nodded, her ear brushing Aymeric’s skin. “I still don’t feel as old as I am.”

“The years since you were brought into this have been difficult for you, I know,” he assured her. “A young woman of nineteen suddenly being responsible for Eorzea is—well, it borders on criminal.”

Etien sighed. “I don’t know about that.”

“That you have made it so far and done so well in that distance is just another thing to admire about you.”

Now she laughed a little. “I have always had help.”

“And you always will, if I have anything to say about it,” he told her, finally letting her go just enough that he could kiss her. “But for now, you should rest, rather than worrying about what you need to do next.”

Etien sighed. “Did I wake you, before?”

Aymeric shook his head. “You did not, though I have no idea whether that’s fortunate or not.”

“Well, maybe you can sleep now.”

“If you need me to stay awake and vigilant against pesky nightmares, you know I would be willing.”

“I want you to sleep, too,” Etien told him. “I should be fine, wrapped up in your arms, anyway.”

Now Aymeric yawned. “Well, that’s good to hear. What a simple fix, when I would never let you from my arms if I was never required to.”

Etien laughed, settling in and pressing a kiss to Aymeric’s collarbone, since it was where she could reach. “Never?”

“Never,” he affirmed. “Do you not think I find it comforting to hold you?” He clucked his tongue. “Etien. Do you doubt my love?”

She shook her head, slowly. “It’s not your love I doubt, darling.”

“Then what?”

“It’s hard to put words to. I just find it hard to believe sometimes, that a silly little kit like me could make you so happy.”

“You’re not a silly little kit,” he replied simply. “You’re a splendor, strong in every way and the breath of spring I longed for.”

“What a concept,” she breathed. Sleep was coming to claim her again, and she hoped she could transfer that sleepiness to Aymeric by pressing closer, letting out a content sigh.

Yes, in his arms, she was more than just content.

#aytien #fic

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