#in fact “mia calls elilgeim ellie in camp dragonhead post-bloody banquet” is the very first note i made in my now-bloated google doc

[elliewiltarwyn]

FFXIV Write 2023 | Prompt #16: Jerk

is it anachronistic to have ffxiv OCs call each other jerks? maybe, however have you considered [throws down a smoke bomb and vanishes]

-1338 words

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Elilgeim’s in an alcove down the hall, staring out the window at the frozen landscapes, when Mia finds her. She doesn’t need to wonder particularly hard about what’s on the other woman’s mind.

“Couldn’t sleep?” she needles lightly as she approaches, the candlelight emanating from the plate in her hand flickering across Elilgeim’s Roegadyn features.

Including the side-eye she gives Mia as she takes a seat on the bench next to her. “As if it’s possible to sleep after a day like today.” She can’t argue with that. She can’t really think of another thing to say, though, and so they sit there, the Roegadyn white mage and the Hyur free paladin, brooding in silence to themselves in the depths of Camp Dragonhead in the middle of the night.

What a pair we make, Mia sighs to herself. Out of all of the fellow Scions and Archons she had fought alongside, for her, Elilgeim, and Alphinaud to be the only ones to escape the banquet turned bloody must be… some kind of irony. She can’t think of a time any of them has had a kind word to say about the others, between Elilgeim’s insubordination, Alphinaud’s pompous impatience, and Mia’s virtues constantly clashing against theirs… and yet here they are cooped up for refuge in the same camp. If it wasn’t for Tataru, Mia wouldn’t be wholly certain they’d live through the night without ripping each other’s throats out.

…No, that isn’t true, Mia admits to herself. There’s too much self-blame and grief going around for any of them to truly aggravate each other anymore; the sight of poor Alphinaud with his head in his hands, weeping over the crushing weight of responsibility, had broken Mia’s heart. Even now: Elilgeim usually refuses to share a meal or a table with her, yet here they are sitting side-by-side, because who else is left? Her eyes burn as she squeezes them shut, the painful parade of the faces of their lost friends refusing to cease their march through her mind’s eye. 

(Each and every Scion they had been forced to leave behind in their flight stings painfully, but it’s Lilyana’s stand in particular that breaks Mia’s heart. Surrounded by Crystal Braves and Brass Blades at the entrance to the sultana’s secret tunnel, the miqo’te rogue had stepped forth and urged the others into the tunnel first—only for her to make several hand gestures they had never seen before and blast the entrance with a bolt of levin the moment the others had made it in. Through the crumbling rubble now cutting them off from each other, Lilyana had shouted at them to go, I’m going to hold them all off—I’m going to prove I can protect you all, the way you’ve protected me! 

As if Mia hadn’t been the one best suited to that role, as if dear sweet Lily hadn’t already proven her worth several times over…

There had been a small gap in the bricks through which Mia caught Lilyana’s eye for the last time, and the sad smile on her face before she turned and, with a savage war cry, leapt forward into the mass of soldiers before her, knives flashing and untested magicks exploding. She knows that smile is going to haunt her forever… All these friends, lost, for what…?)

“Hey, Mia?”

Mia jerks back, stunned, and stares at her seatmate, who is resting her cheek on the knee of her leg drawn up onto the bench, and—for the first time ever—is looking upon her with something beside frustration or even anger. Mia feels it may be a bit optimistic to read the way her face is arranged as trust, especially given who it is, but she really hopes it is. With tears brimming in the edges of her eyes, Elilgeim swallows a lump in her throat and quietly says, “Thanks… for surviving with me.”

It’s literally the first time she’s thanked Mia for anything, and with the enormity of this gratitude’s source, she has no idea how to process that. She blinks rapidly for a moment until she can finally draw out the words “Same… to you.” And it’s true: as frustrating as Elilgeim has been, as much as they’ve butted heads… she’s genuinely glad the other woman is here with her.

A tiny, wry smile quirks on the corner of Elilgeim’s lips. “Bet you wish it was anyone else, huh?”

Mia rolls her eyes and elbows the other woman in the side, eliciting an exhausted chuckle. “Someone with a sense of propriety and respect, maybe.”

“I have a sense of them; I just don’t pay them any mind.”

“Obviously.” She groans in exasperation and lays her head against the stone wall. “Jerk.”

“Heh. Sorry.” Mia blinks rapidly again. Truly a night of firsts. “I suppose I shouldn’t antagonize one of the few friends I have left.” Just one after another, really. On multiple levels…

“Friend, huh?” The word itself isn’t strange on Mia’s lips; the thought of directing it at Elilgeim is.

There’s a strangely warm glow in Elilgeim’s eyes as she looks upon Mia. “Somehow, in spite of everything… aye. Friend.”

“Interesting.” Mia can’t help but smirk at her. “Does being your friend grant any special privileges?”

“I suppose I could prioritize you with my curative spells,” she drawls, raising an eyebrow like the suggestion is most absurd.

“I’m generally taking the brunt of the damage. As far as I can tell, you already do.”

She winks. “So imagine what it’ll be like now that I actually consider you a friend.”

Mia throws her hands up and shakes her head in long-suffering resignation at her. “Truly, beyond mortal ken.”

“What, were you hoping for something better?” Elilgeim teases, nudging her back.

“I don’t know, it’d be nice to get nickname privileges or something.”

“I hate to tell you this, but Mia seems like an incredibly difficult name to abbreviate.”

“Not me, you jerk,” Mia sighs in exasperation, shoving the toe of her boot against the side of Elilgeim’s leg and eliciting a chuckle. “If I got to call you something only friends can.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Ellie.” It just slips out, easy as a breeze.

A sudden silence falls over the both of them, and when Mia looks up at Elilgeim, she seems frozen in place, staring right back, eyes wide, lips slightly parted. It dawns on Mia what she just said then, and she feels a horrific blush creeping up her face.

“...Huh.” Elilgeim shakes her head, waking from her reverie, and squints down at her hands, considering. “...Yeah, I guess that is a name you could derive from Elilgeim.” She blinks, then looks up at Mia, whose face feels like it’s on fire. “Funny. We ran with an Ellie for moons, and I never thought about that.” Her mouth twists a little. “...I liked her. Shame she wanted to zombify Ul’dah.”

That’s right, the false Mythril Eye reporter. “On the other hand,” Mia says slowly, grinning sheepishly up at the other, “you have to admit zombifying Ul’dah sounds pretty appealing right now.”

Elilgeim blinks down at her for a moment, and Mia wonders if she went just a step too far—and then suddenly the Roegadyn bursts into laughter, and that snaps the cord of tension winding Mia tight and lets her crack up too. “You’re not wrong there,” Elilgeim chuckles, wiping her face. She favors Mia with an interesting side-eye, like she’s carefully observing something before coming to a decision on what to do about it. “...I must admit: I don’t think I’d mind Ellie.”

A small excited thrill ripples through Mia’s veins then. “So… I get nickname privileges after all?”

“...Sure. Yeah.” Elilgeim—Ellie winks at her. “Though—maybe not in front of everyone else. Wouldn’t want them to think anything’s changed between us.”

Mia rolls her eyes and elbows her again. “Of course you wouldn’t. Jerk.”

“Couldn’t possibly be anything else to you,” Ellie says, with the most fondness Mia’s ever felt directed at her. “Could I?”

“Somehow, no. I guess not.”