#our WoLs /did/ hear his voice

[warriorofyapping]

the way he just rocks and sways while waiting.....i love him so fucking much

[legendsgalore]

The Song before the Storm

Why wouldn't you rejoice at a moment to yourself, away from the nine men you are traveling with? It was hard enough knowing you were the weak link here (haha get it), but that you knew as much as you did about all these heroes, and they had no clue, it's a hard secret to keep. In fact, it's such a difficult task that if you aren't aware, you may just tip your hand. Especially if you are not as alone as you think you are...

Notes:

It adds a bit more fun if you imagine the Reader looking like Marin/Malon, though whether that be in the hair, just the facial structure, or body, that can be up to you. And also, if you don't care for that, you can just imagine it's simply the personalities that are similar. Also I did not proof-read this at all.

Cross-posted to AO3 too

https://archiveofourown.org/works/57421948

___________________________________________________________

Silence is underappreciated, you decided as you lowered yourself into the water. It was the right temperature, almost too cold to be comfortable, but once you were submerged you felt the chill melt into your bones and chase out any lingering tension. It wasn’t too dark yet, the oranges from the sunset cast your world into various shades of warm colors.

You were bathing in a pond not too far from the Chain’s campsite. It was a lucky find, fresh water so tucked away in the forest. You could see the glimmer of fairies on the other side, so clearly they felt safe in this space, hence why you were able to wander from the group by yourself.

Asking Time earlier had been an ordeal, he had fixed his one eye on you, and you felt your resolve literally crumple to dust in face of it.

Swallowing hard, you had pleaded for your case. “Please? You said it yourself, that fairies being there meant it was a safe space for the forest, so couldn’t I go bathe by myself?”

You knew why one of the Links always followed you, even if no one had outright told you, they felt you needed to be guarded. You supposed it wasn’t wrong, you could barely maintain the proper sword stances (thanks to some training from Sky), but still, no personal time in a group of nine guys? That’s rough.

Time began to respond, and you felt your heart sink. “You know why I can’t agree to this, you would be out of sight from anyone who could protect you.”

“But you would hear if anything went wrong!”

His expression did seem remorseful, as the old man rebuked, “Not every threat will be a loud one that will draw our attention, I’m sorry.”

Looking down, you had accepted your fate when Legend called out, “Aw come on old man! Just let her have this one thing!”

Both of you looked over, and though the Veteran was using the pretense of looking in his bag to not meet your or Time’s gazes, his hands weren’t moving.

“She’s right, we all have exceptional hearing too, and I am sure even a wolf could keep an ear perked up for her.”

You saw a few people stifle laughs, Four, Wild, but Time remained staring at Legend, who finally turned and met his gaze with a nervous expression.

With a sigh, Time relented, “I guess so, and I do think Malon would appreciate me letting this young lady get some space from us men.”

Legend’s expression morphed into a victorious smirk, and you felt your own face light up in joy.

“Yes! Thank you Time, and you too Legend!” You made sure to cast out a thanks to the Veteran, and a blush came over his face and he looked away.

The others laughed lightly at Legend’s sudden shyness as he muttered, “Don’t mention it.”

Time chuckled as you rushed to gather your bathing supplies, luxuriously supplied courtesy of Warriors’ homeworld.

“Please do be careful, bring your sword just in case.”

You nodded, hooking the band that held the sheath for the short blade over your head.

“I will, and I’ll call out if anything seems off.”

You were just about to the edge of the clearing the camp was in, not wanting to waste the lingering daylight, so Time had to raise his voice to respond.

“Yeah, loud enough a wolf, or a bunny could hear!”

That last bit about a bunny felt strange, but you ignored it as you headed into the woods. Because of this, you missed as Legend’s head whipped around to stare at the old man, who was casting a very pointed gaze at the Veteran.

Silence fell over the camp, a few beats passed, and then the glaring contest broke as Legend exasperatedly cried out.

“Argh fine! Rancher gimme that thing already.”

Chuckling, Twilight stepped forward, handing Legend something small from his palm. He looked between Legend and Time.

“You sure this doesn’t call for Wolfie’s help? I feel that being able to control the transformation would help in case of something.”

Legend replied as he tugged his bag over his shoulder, turning into the woods. “I have my Moon Pearl this time, it’ll be fine. Plus, I think I have to go, I think I got punished by the old man here.”

Punctuating his last sentence, Legend playfully stuck his tongue out at Time, who crossed his arms and raised one eyebrow with a smirk in response. And with that, the Veteran turned to follow you, with you none the wiser.

____________________________________________________________________________

Though the others made fun of Warriors for fussing over his appearance, you were just grateful someone not only had soap, but nice soap that had moisturizing elements, and even pressed jasmine for a floral touch.

Honestly, you wondered as you spread suds over your shoulder and upper arm, you didn’t think the Chain really understood just how pampered your life was in comparison to theirs. Or not even their own, but what would be considered a pampered life here.

For example, just scented soap in general, or the idea of having separate soaps for maximizing care of your hair, body, and skin. Though, that was due to technology being able to develop in your world. It helped to not have society get wrecked every couple of centuries you thought.

The reminder of your home made you pause. Traveling with the Chain was nice, a dream you could admit that you had lusted over late at night before, in your old life. But, real life was much more complicated than a video game, or silly daydream what-if scenarios.

As of right now, you were a burden on these heroes. Sure there were all nine of them, but Hylia would only have called upon them all if that was needed. And the elephant in the room was that you were woefully unable to do anything in a fight. Just the whole conversation earlier proved how the Chain saw you, worried to even let you out of their sights.

It was nice to be cared for, but you just felt guilty and ashamed more than anything. Hence asking Sky for help. And you could tell you were much stronger than before, lithe muscle replacing plush skin. But it wasn’t just you being a burden upon the others. You knew them.

You had daydreamed about meeting these heroes because back home, the Legend of Zelda series was one of your favorite things. But Links were definitely a secretive type and it was easy to see that no one was gonna take lightly to you knowing all their deepest secrets, or the tough parts of their journeys they would rather no one know about.

Your knowledge impeded you fully getting close with any of the heroes, though luckily you had thought quickly and gave the white lie of knowing them as legends in your time. Not untrue, and it could disguise having general knowledge about the heroes’ journeys.

But you could look at Time and just go “The moon will fall in three days,” or you could look at Sky and say “Did you check that Ghirahim was truly gone after beating Demise,” or at Legend and just say “It was not just a dream,” and literally everything you had built here would all fall apart.

You sighed deeply, realizing that you had paused your washing as you had ruminated on your situation, the pleasant coolness from before having chilled you, goosebumps visible on your arms.

You started humming to try and expel some of the anxiety that had built up, and gathered up suds between your hands to direct to your hair.

Lamenting the lack of conditioner, you could only just make sure you got your hair clean. It was satisfying feeling the grease loosen from the clumps. You kept humming, a random lighthearted tune. Though it may have been wishful thinking, you thought you could see the fairies fly a little closer to you as the sounds of your song wove into the air.

You swear, if Four hadn’t had an extra headband, and Wild hadn’t had his extra hairband, you think you may have just taken your sword and chopped your hair short yourself. You were not used to dirty hair.

Chuckling at your pampered thoughts, you finished washing and held a deep breath to dunk your head under the surface. Easy way to get all the suds out, and you figured the shock would help bring levity to your mood.

With a one, two, three, you dove beneath the surface and popped back up, laughing as the temperature somehow still was a shock, despite having been in the water for all this time.

The brightness of the fairies was more noticeable than before, though they were still mostly across the pond. You realized that the sun had almost set, the lingering colors of twilight cast over the forest pond.

You began making your way to the water’s edge, intent on making it back to camp before dark, when a voice cut through the quiet.

“How do you know that song?”

You yelped, and instinctively kicked back deeper into the pond. Your heart leapt into your chest, and you immediately panicked as you realized your sword was next to your clothes…on the ground next to the pond.

“Calm down it’s just me!”

“H-huh?!” You gasped out, but followed the direction the voice had came from and was startled to see Legend standing a few paces back from the water’s edge, looking to the side and holding his hand over his eyes.

His shoulders were hunched, and you could see over his fingers his eyebrows were furrowed. He still wasn’t looking at you, and you realized that you were definitely very nude in the water and couldn’t help the squeak that escaped you.

Legend called out again, “Don’t worry, I won’t look.”

You almost called back a thanks, but? Why would you thank him in this situation? You began swimming back to shore. Thinking about it, you weren’t really surprised about someone being sent after you, it was almost expected even though Time had said you could go by yourself. You weren’t even mad, just mildly disappointed your privacy wasn’t what you thought it was.

Though you had expected “Wolfie” to be here, as the boys could get away with sending the totally-not-Twilight-pet they had. So Legend’s presence was a little confusing.

An awkward silence fell upon the pond as you pulled yourself out of the pond, bare body dripping water. Casting a quick glance at Legend to confirm he was still not looking, you dry yourself off with a spare cloth that Wild had given you.

After drying, you began pulling your clothes over your body, and finally Legend spoke into the silence.

“Sorry for startling you, but how do you know that song?”

You were kneeling next to the water, and from squeezing the water out of your hair, you look up at Legend.

“What do you mean?”

His expression pinches, as he gestures, looking like he was struggling to hold himself back from a more dramatic reaction.

“The one you were humming!”

“Humming…you mean while I was bathing?”

You looked at Legend as you said that, and he at least had the decency to blush and look away in shame there, though his emotions were still clearly running high,

“Yes! Where did you hear it?” Legend’s voice kept inching higher in octave as the conversation continued, and you felt your heart rate spike despite not knowing what was going on.

“W-why?”

“Because!” Finally Legend exploded, taking steps forward to grasp your shoulders in a tight grip.

“No one else should know that song!”

Your heartbeat was in your ears as you considered Legend’s words, no one should know the song….? Oh. Oh no.

You were humming the Ballad of the Windfish.

As your monumental mistake dawned upon you, Legend continued, his voice choking as he reigned in the volume, likely to avoid anyone from camp coming to check the commotion.

As a result, his voice dropped to a deeper tone, and with the proximity between you two, the tension rose exponentially.

“That song doesn’t exist anymore, so why were you humming it?!”

“U-uh,” You stammered, not sure what to say, still panicking over your mistake, and at the realization that the Hero of Legend was holding you incredibly close, with only about a foot of distance between your faces.

His expression was pinched, and it takes on a sorrowful look, his lips pursing together as his eyes almost glaze over as he looks through you.

“Did, did someone teach it to you? Did a girl teach you?”

Legend’s violet eyes refocus, meeting your’s, causing your heart to skip a beat. Curse him for being so pretty.

“You look so similar to her…maybe…are you…?”

And with that your heart skips some more beats, but for a much different reason. Rapidly you shake your head.

“NO no no, no Legend, no, I am not her. She’s, she’s still gone Legend.”

A spark of light you hadn’t even noticed built up, faded from Legend’s eyes as you said that, which made your heart hurt but it was necessary to stop that train of thought.

You couldn’t do that to him. You knew you looked like Marin in passing maybe, but not that the resemblance was strong enough that Legend would notice. You thought you looked like Malon more, though Time hadn’t said anything about that.

The grip on your shoulders shifting slightly, Legend choked out, “So why, why do you know her song?”

Still looking into Legend’s eyes, you knew you couldn’t lie to him here. He didn’t deserve that.

“Because,” you said, “I know it from your story, your legends.”

He looks confused at that, “But I haven’t told a soul details about…”

“Koholint Island?” You supply, anticipating the shocked expression from the Veteran.

“Yeah, I know about it. I, I don’t know when, or who, but you must tell someone in the future about that adventure, as it’s readily available for anyone to read up on in my time.”

You finally break his gaze, feeling shameful for how much you know, and the fact that still this wasn’t the full truth. You didn’t just read about the Windfish, you had experienced the journey with him, through a lighthearted lens that skimmed the traumatic emotional downfall from the conclusion.

Legend seemed at a lost for words, staring at you with some emotion on his face you weren’t sure of. Confusion? Fear? Disgust? Panic?

He stutters out, “T-that’s…”

You interrupt him, not sure if you wanted to hear the rebuke you knew was coming. “I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything before. I-I wasn’t sure how you would all react, and I also didn’t realize some of what I knew was not common knowledge until I realized that some of you were omitting details or not saying anything when I knew you knew more, such as you not saying much when Wind talks about sailing and-”

“Stop.”

You snap your jaw shut, your accidental ramble cut off at the one command from Legend, voice raw with emotion.

Neither of you are looking at each other, though you are still in the same close proximity. And you wish you could just reach out and grab the hero in a hug and tell him how much you cared and still do care and in fact care so much more than you thought you would and that you regret sullying the authenticity of his trust for sharing the deepest parts of himself because you ripped that rug right out from beneath him.

That you took away his choice and he found out because you were humming a song in what you thought was a private moment.

Unable to bear the silence any more, you burst out again, “I’m sor-!”

“So you know it all.”

You swallow, looking up at Legend, he wasn’t much taller than you-your nose at his chin level-and nod.

He hums once, his expression is guarded and more flat than before, and seems to brace himself before asking.

“Was it real?”

“Yes!” You cry out, lunging forward, catching yourself on Legend’s chest, his hands moving to grasp your upper arms.

“Yes! It was real! They, they found the bones of the Windfish centuries later, in Wild’s time!”

Taken aback by the suddenness of your response, Legend’s constructed mask fell, once more revealing the cascade of emotions he held.

“What? It’s dead?!”

“Yeah, ask Wild for pictures of the Gerudo Great Skeleton, he’ll know what that means.”

Legend is taken aback at that seemingly random statement, but you continue.

“I’m sorry you had to find out this way Legend, truly. I would have told you eventually, but, it’s a hard topic to bring up in normal conversation, right?”

He smiles at that, a soft one that makes your heart light up and reminds you just how close you are to the hero.

You are reminded that though he is smaller than the likes of Time or Warriors, he is very much a strong adventurer himself, and that is reflected in the strength of his grip. You can feel the callouses on his skin through your thin shirt, loaned from Wild, and shiver despite the heat emanating from his chest on your hands.

Legend makes the same realization as you, and takes a step back, releasing you. You shiver again, this time for real, and he frowns.

“We should get back.”

Agreeing, you look up at the sky, now dappled with twinkling stars. “Yeah, Time is probably wondering where we are by now.”

The stars provided just enough light that you could gather your stuff, and Legend waits for you by the edge of the clearing to do so. The moment of silence isn’t awkward, but pensive, as the two of you ponder the things revealed between you.

You want to say something, but before you can decide what you end up calling out, “Legend?”

The Hero of Legend turns to look at you, expression hard to read in the near total darkness. The only light provided was the stars, and the twinkling of the fairies all around the two of you.

“Yeah?”

You hesitate, not having planned what you wanted to say yet, before just saying exactly what was on your mind.

“You don’t need to talk to me about everything, but know that I am here for you. And, and that I care, about you, Legend…Link, so please come to me if I can help you with anything, okay?”

Your cheeks are burning by the time you finish your small statement, and you have to force yourself to watch Legend’s reaction.

He tilts his head, and smiles softly, exhaling through his nose lightly in amusement.

“Okay sure, but you’ll probably regret getting to know me, I’m not that nice.”

You smile and run to catch up to him. “Aww no I think you are! You’re totally the softest-hearted out of the bunch here, for surrrre!”

Legend scoffs and lightly shoves you as you both head into the woods back to camp. You wouldn’t say anything, but having Legend here while you walked in the dark woods definitely made you feel safe than otherwise.

Speaking of which…

“No you totally are a softie! I mean you came after me anyways, and probably was going to be hidden except for my humming.”

Legend folds his arms and clicks his tongue, “Ah that, well, actually…yeah I know I had told the old man off for not letting you go off on your own, but it was totally me that wanted to check anyways.”

Sensing the lie in his words, you elbowed the Veteran with a smirk on your face, “It was your idea you say?”

His own lips pulling into a playful smirk that had no right being as handsome as it was, and rolled his eyes.

“Yes it was, now believe me here!”

You laugh, the sound filling the night. Though your hand had been slightly tipped to your unbidden knowledge, it was overflowing anyways, and perhaps this was going to be more helpful than harmful.

____________________________________________________________________________

“You sure you didn’t just come to peep?”

“Oh shove off!”

Notes:

Lowkey I feel like this could be another fun series for the Chain, where it would be the same scenario for each Link, that they stumble upon the reader in a moment of privacy, and it reveals that they know more than they let on, but it just brings them and that hero closer together. (I mean when I was writing this I had to refrain from some cheesy "strange sadness as dusk falls" lines so the Twilight chapter would probably write itself lol).   Also I know this may come off as OOC for Legend? But I'm kinda reworking my impression of him since the latest update, as I realized I was focusing too much on one aspect of his personality (the prickly, angry part that lashes out to the world). And that part is still very much there, but there is more to him than that. And I want to make sure that when I depict Legend, it's with all of him, the experienced and capable Veteran, the goofy too-young hero who loves pranks, and the burnt out hero who is angry at the world for it's unfairness.

[kagy04]

G'Raha x WoL

I love this cat boy

Not requested

Pure fluff

Words: 1441

Slight Endwalker spoilers

○°○°○°○

The Warrior of Light hardly ever had any time to themselves. But when you did, you didn't know what to do with yourself. Laying in bed would simply make you feel antsy and you would find yourself walking back and forth in your room with thoughts swarming in your head of the now disbanded Scions and how you missed the bunch, especially a certain redhead. So instead of dwelling on that, you decided to go out and see if anyone had any troubles they needed help with.

Walking down the streets of Limsa Lominsa, many people greeted you, but no one beckoned you over in need of help—which should have been a relief. But moments of peace only last so long.

"HEY! Someone stop him! Thief!" You heard a man yell after a masked figure who was running towards your direction with a box in their arms. You stepped aside, blending in with the parting crowd before raising your leg as the person ran past, effectively tripping them.

The man caught up, gasping for air while trying to express his gratefulness for catching the thief. Some Maelstrom guards close behind arrived to apprehend the thief, and you took the box from the ground to give it back to its owner.

"Thank you again! We don't have enough people watching over the cargo while we load it on the ship, so that bloody thief seized the opportunity to take one of our boxes."

"I can help with loading the ship," you offered the older man. Anything to keep you preoccupied, even for a little while, was welcomed.

"Oh dear me. I could never even think of asking the Warrior of Light to help with such—"

"I insist," you interrupted the man.

He nodded, not wanting to make a further scene, and because he needed the help. You helped the man and the few crew members load the ship. While in light conversation with the members, you found out they were heading to Old Sharlayan. So as repayment, you asked them to let you take the trip with them. The captain, recognizing your name and reputation, accepted this proposal without hesitation.

After securing passage on the ship bound for Old Sharlayan, you assisted with the remaining tasks, grateful for the distraction. The crew, initially hesitant about accepting your help, soon warmed to your presence. Amid the bustling activity of loading and preparing the ship for its journey, you found a semblance of peace in the rhythm of work.

As the ship set sail, you leaned against the railing, watching Limsa Lominsa fade into the horizon. The gentle rocking of the vessel and the crisp sea breeze provided a much-needed respite from the constant demands placed upon you. Yet, a sense of anticipation tingled within you as you thought about G'raha Tia. It had been too long since you had seen him, and the idea of surprising him brought a smile to your face.

The journey to Old Sharlayan was smooth, with the crew's camaraderie making the time pass quickly. You often found yourself reminiscing about your adventures with the Scions, sharing stories with the sailors who were eager to hear about your exploits. Your mind frequently wandered to G'raha, wondering how he was faring in his studies and duties.

As the ship approached Old Sharlayan, your heart raced with excitement. You disembarked with the crew, helping them unload their cargo before making your way through the familiar streets. The city, with its grand architecture and scholarly air, filled you with a sense of nostalgia.

Navigating through the bustling Agora, you made your way to the Studium, where you knew G'raha would likely be. The anticipation built with each step, and finally, you spotted him in one of the quieter courtyards, engrossed in a tome. His red hair glinted in the sunlight, and a wave of affection washed over you.

"G'raha!" you called out, your voice filled with excitement.

He looked up, his eyes widening in surprise. "Y/N?! What are you doing here?"

You grinned, walking over to him. "I thought I'd surprise you. It's been too long."

G'raha stood up, a wide smile spreading across his face. "It certainly has. I can't believe you're here!" He enveloped you in a warm hug, and you felt a rush of comfort and joy in his embrace.

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon catching up, wandering through the tranquil gardens of Old Sharlayan. G'raha shared stories of his studies and the progress he had made, while you recounted your recent adventures. The conversation flowed easily, the bond between you as strong as ever.

As evening fell, G'raha invited you to his quarters, a cozy room filled with books and mementos. You settled onto a comfortable couch, and he handed you a steaming cup of tea.

"It's so good to see you," he said, his voice soft. "I've missed you more than I can say."

"I've missed you too," you admitted, feeling a warmth spread through you. "It's been hard without the Scions. I miss everyone, but especially you."

G'raha's eyes softened, and he reached out to take your hand. "I've thought about you every day. It's been difficult, but knowing you're out there, doing what you do best, helping people, has been a comfort."

You squeezed his hand, the moment stretching between you, filled with unspoken emotions. "I'm glad I came. I needed to see you, to be with you." You confess.

He smiled, a tender expression that made your heart flutter. "I'm glad you did too."

The conversation shifted to lighter topics, and as the night grew darker, the two of you found yourselves nestled together on the couch. The comfort of his presence, the warmth of his body next to yours, eased the restlessness that had plagued you for so long.

"G'raha," you whispered, your head resting on top of his, as his was on your shoulder. "There's something I need to tell you."

He turned slightly, his gaze meeting yours. "What is it?"

Taking a deep breath, you gathered your courage. "I've realised something over these past few months. I care about you deeply, more than just a friend."

G'raha's eyes widened slightly, his grip on your hand tightening. "You mean…?"

You nodded, your heart pounding. "I love you, G'raha."

For a moment, there was only silence, the weight of your confession hanging in the air. Then, G'raha's face broke into a radiant smile. "I love you too," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "I've loved you for so long."

A sense of relief and joy washed over you, and you leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. It was soft and tentative at first, but as he responded, the kiss deepened, filled with the unspoken promises and emotions that had been building between you.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. "I've wanted to tell you for so long," you murmured.

G'raha cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing gently against your skin. "And I've wanted to hear it for just as long."

The rest of the night was spent wrapped in each other's arms, talking quietly about your hopes and dreams for the future. The burdens and worries that had weighed you down seemed lighter with G'raha by your side.

As you drifted off to sleep, nestled against G'raha, you felt a sense of peace and contentment that you hadn't felt in a long time.

The next morning, you awoke to find G'raha watching you with a soft smile. "Good morning," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Good morning," you replied, feeling a warmth spread through you, nuzzling into his chest further for a few more moments.

The two of you spent the day exploring Old Sharlayan, hand in hand. The city seemed brighter, the air sweeter with G'raha by your side. As you wandered through the streets, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected turn of events that had brought you here.

Later that evening, as you stood on a balcony overlooking the city, G'raha pulled you close. "I don't know what the future holds," he said softly. "But I do know that I want to face it with you."

You nodded, leaning into his embrace. "Me too. Whatever comes, we'll face it together."

With the stars shining brightly above and the promise of a new day ahead, you felt a renewed sense of hope and determination. The journey might be long and filled with challenges, but with G'raha by your side, you knew you could overcome anything.

[yzeltia]

WOL/Raha Week Day 5 Time Apart

Rating: T for Teen Characters: Lyna, Crystal Exarch, Keith Summers, Krile Baldesion Notes: Takes place during the Stormblood era. Song used is Goodnight My Someone by Meredith Wilson

“Grandpa! Keep up,” Lyna called out, tugging on the Exarch’s hand as she pulled him into the ruins of The Church of the First Light.

“Lyna, my muscles are stiff. You forget I’m an old man,” he said, following her to the front arch of the church as she looked up in wonder toward the towering mountain before them.

Lyna laughed then pointed up to the stone towers peaking just up over the edge of a cliff. “It’s a castle! Just like in the story tales,” the girl pointed out excitedly, “Can we go see it!?”

The Exarch laughed, then shook his head. “I don’t think that would be very safe. It is an old castle and has long been set to ruin just as the church here,” he lied, worried his rambunctious granddaughter's adventurous spirit would kick in and very much did not want to have to attempt a rescue from the lingering spirits of elves that haunted the castle.

“Aww…I was hoping there would be a prince,” Lyna said, long ears going limp down her back as she started to slump.

“I do not think there’s been a prince in there for quite some time,” the Exarch said, patting his daughter’s head with his unaltered hand.

“Ah! But there was,” an older woman’s voice sounded.

Lyna and the Exarch turned, finding an older elven woman wandering toward them slowly with her fcane as she looked up to the castle.

“Hello there,” the Exarch greeted.

The woman bowed to the Exarch then smiled at Lyna. “Greetings, your Grace. Forgive me, but I overheard as I was wandering by on my walk. Do you wish to know the story of the Lost Shepherd and the Prince?”

Lyna looked up to her grandfather, the man giving her a small nod of approval that it was okay to interact with the stranger. “Yes please!”

“Very well then,” the woman said, finding a comfortable spot on the church wall to lean. “Well, as you probably know, this is the Forest of the Lost Shepard, named for the shepherd that went in search of one of his stray flock but was never seen again after. Well, that tale comes from the era of the First King of Laxan Loft, when skies still grew dark.”

“King? I thought this story was about a prince,” Lyna said, tilting her head.

“Well young miss, without a king there would be no prince! Though, as the story is told, the prince did not want to be a prince at all. He found his happiness with his subjects, often in disguise as a commoner so that he might walk among them unnoticed.. The prince made many friends and loved all his subjects dearly; however, there was one he found he loved more than all the others!”

“The shepard?” Lyna asked.

“What a smart little girl you are! Yes! He was stricken with love upon hearing the shepard, a handsome young Mystel, singing one evening to his flock. ‘Goodnight, my someone. Goodnight, my love. Sleep tight, my someone. Sleep tight, my love. Our star is shining, its brightest light. For goodnight, my love, for goodnight.’ Hearing the song all sheep came save for one who had found the enraptured prince and saw fit to chew on his laces. The shepard, concerned, went looking for his sheep and found the disguised prince trying to gently shoo the sheep away back to his flock. The prince, clearly unused to animals, amused the shepherd and after watching him struggle for a time he intervened to save him. Embarrassed, the prince fled.”

“He ran away? Aren’t prince’s supposed to be brave?” Lyna asked.

“Well, that would be very boring if all princes were alike, wouldn’t it,” the Exarch proposed to his granddaughter.

Lyna stared at the ground a moment, seeming to be lost in thought. “I suppose it would be.”

“Right, and it wasn’t that he wasn’t brave. It was that he had never felt that special feeling in his heart before. Despite that, he returned that night and when the shepherd sang, the sheep once more found him far more interesting. Again, he tried to shoo him away until the shepard came to get him himself. This time he stayed long enough to apologize for getting in the way before returning home.

“On the third night, the prince, determined to be of use, wandered out toward the shepard as he sang to his flock, singing after him, ‘Sweet dreams be yours, dear, if dreams there be. Sweet dreams to carry you close to me. I wish they may and I wish they might. Now goodnight, my someone, goodnight’. His fluffy friend this time followed him to join the flock. The shepard offered him his thanks with a gentle kiss. From every night on, they met, sang, then parted from one another’s company with a kiss.”

“Did the prince ever tell the shepherd who he was,” Lyna asked, bouncing a bit as she grew more invested in the story.

“Sadly, he did not get the chance. A war came, and as the prince, he had to lead his father’s army into battle. He did not return, lost heroically on the front lines so that he’d be shoulder to shoulder with his men. The shepard assumed his lost love was a soldier when he did not come the nights after the war broke out. On the night the prince fell, the mischievous sheep did not return when he sang his song, and so the shepard wandered into the forest, singing out for him…and for his unknown love. It is said that those who are lost can still hear him singing, waiting for his prince to join him.”

Lyna crossed her arms, scowling a little. “That’s not a very good prince story. It’s more like a ghost story,” she said before feeling a small tap on her shoulder. Looking at a small drip of water on her sleeve, she looked to find tears running down the Exarch’s cheeks. Frowning, she started to tug on his robes. “Grandpa…Grandpa it’s okay. It’s just a story.”

“S-Sorry,” the Exarch breathed out before wiping his face free of tears, “I’m not sure what came over me.”

“It was not my intention to upset you, your Grace,” the woman said, giving another shaky bow. “Your sweet granddaughter is correct in that it is more a ghost story. The shepherd and prince were very real…I am reminded of another old tale. Something about when the soul resonates with one’s past…but it has slipped my mind. Forgive me, I’ve taken enough of your time.”

“Pray miss, should you find yourself wanting, come to the Crystarium and I shall personally see that you are well cared for,” the Exarch said

“Yes! I would like to hear another story sometime,” Lyna echoed.

The old woman laughed then gave a small nod. “I shall endeavor to take you up on that offer then, and look forward to the next time we meet. Perhaps I will have a proper prince story for you then.”

With that, the old woman departed their company, leaving the two to start their way back into the fort. The Exarch couldn’t shake the pangs in his heart, wondering just where they came from. “Say, Lyna. Why was it important that we find a prince in that castle?”

Lyna hummed a bit. “To break your curse! If a handsome prince came along, he could kiss you and make you better,” she said, looking up at her grandfather earnestly.

The Exarch swallowed, flushing lightly before taking her hand. “Wouldn’t that be nice…”

The Source  - 

Keith sighed as he reached up onto yet another shelf, pawing around for items as Krile gave a sharp check mark off the list in her hand. “It’s wonderful to have you around. Needless to say until you came along the average height of those in the Annex was about four fulms,” she praised before watching as Keith pulled out a lyre.

“This seems a bit out of place,” Keith said, flipping the instrument about in his hands.

Krile’s eyes widened before dropping her attention to the ground. “It belonged to a dear friend.”

“Oh…,” Keith trailed, “Were they lost to Val too?”

Krile shook her head. “No. They did not pass, but they are also unable to return to us. It is rather difficult to explain. He was a bard, and so hungry to go on an adventure. I find myself missing him terribly. What I wouldn’t give to hear him excitedly tell me about something he’d read or sing a tune.”

Keith frowned, watching Krile remain slumped. Holding the lyre correctly, he strummed a few bars, finding it still in tune despite being forgotten. As he played, a melody came to him and on impulse he sang out, “True love can be whispered from heart to heart, when lovers are parted they say. But I must depend on a wish and a star, as long as my heart doesn't know who you are…Sweet dreams be yours, dear, if dreams there be. Sweet dreams to carry you close to me. I wish they may and I wish they might. Now goodnight, my someone, goodnight…”

Krile looked at Keith, stunned before giving him a small smile as she began to dig in her pocket. “What a lovely song. Thank you,” she said, handing him her handkerchief.

Keith blinked at the gesture before touching his face, finding himself crying. “Ah, whoops. Don’t know what that’s about,” he laughed before taking the handkerchief and dabbing his cheeks with it before handing it back.

Krile pocketed the cloth and shrugged, “Perhaps a moment of empathy for me. If you’d like, you may keep the lyre. At least until there’s an occasion to return it to its proper owner.”

“Ah. Really? Thanks. I’ll keep it safe,” he said before setting it down on a table where he could easily find it.

“Well, that takes care of this room. On to the next then,” Krile said, heading out of the room.

Keith followed, briefly pausing at the door before looking back to the lyre on the desk. He winced, heart giving a little ache. Shaking it off, he hurried on after Krile.

[otherworldseekers]

Pandaemonium thoughts: Themis (and those other guys too I guess)

Oops almost forgot to put this under a read more. 

/L;KND;FOLAIJKWENR;KLGIJB;KWEJURBG

They really fed us a Themis Feast, didn’t they?

But across the board the character development that culminated in this patch was just astounding. Even more so because Themis, Lahabrea and Erichthonios are not just long dead characters. In this patch they are facsimiles of long dead characters. Technically, there is no character growth possible. And yet throughout the quests our understanding of those characters grows leaps and bounds. 

Lahabrea who we knew previously only as a cackling madman has gone through several transformations along the course of Pandaemonium. From respected leader but terrible father to a man who made mistakes because of a tainted love and denies himself in an attempt to prevent further errors, to a man who acknowledges and accepts his failures and strives to move forward. This Lahabrea we meet in the end has finally embraced Erichthonios and his role as father, but fully admits that duty to the star comes before everything. 

Unlike Emet-Selch, he is not at all surprised to hear about what he becomes as an Ascian. He has no illusions about how far he would go for his duty. Perhaps that is why as Ascians, Emet-Selch and Lahabrea seem to have disliked each other. Emet maintains the fiction that what he is doing is noble because he is doing it for his people. Lahabrea knows perfectly well what he is doing is evil, but willingly walks the path in the name of his duty to the star because that is what he has sworn to do. 

I think it’s so interesting and appropriate how, as opposed to Emet-Selch and Elidibus, they didn’t go the route of making Lahabrea very sympathetic. While, naturally, he’s not a villain in Pandaemonium, he embraces the reality of his villainy without regrets. It’s a fascinating take and I think it helps to balance out what they did with the other Unsundered. 

Erichthonios. I had no idea when we met him how he would ultimately impact me. He’s just this guy when you first meet him. Then he’s this guy with daddy issues. Then he’s this guy with mommy issues. And it’s not until this patch that you get to learn how he truly came into his own. 

That moment when he faces Athena is so good, perfectly showcasing how Erich has learned to accept himself and has found what is really important to him. He grew so much throughout Pandaemonium and it’s in large part to what a difference the WoL made to him. How the WoL inspired him. 

It was the WoL who he looked to, who gave him the strength to find himself and his true family. And it’s the WoL who he is thinking of at the end of everything. It’s moments like this, when the game shows us the difference that our characters make in the lives of others, that I think make FFXIV really special. 

Themis. There’s so much I want to say about Themis. First, omg SE thank you so much for my life for giving him voice acting. Non MSQ quests NEVER get voice acting and they did it anyway. I was screaming. I love his voice so much. (Note: I play with Japanese voices and he’s voiced by possibly my absolute favorite seiyuu: Ishida Akira.) His voice is so perfect. I love it. 

Ok so, Themis. OMG. I am just in awe. The writing for his character has always been good, but this patch just blew me away. Right away you can feel that things are off. His speech and mannerisms are not quite what they were in the first two tiers. And we learn this is because Athena took his memories from the aetherial sea after his death. And though, as he later tells us, all memories but those of Pandaemonium are hazy, he is still a Themis who has experienced those things and those experiences are part of him. This is such a truly unique version of him. Because he is, mostly, his Pandaemonium, pre-Sundering self. He has his youth and the feelings of those times, hope for the future, in addition to love and responsibility for his people and the Convocation. But he’s also the Elidibus we came into conflict with. He knows what’s going to happen to him. He knows who we really are. And I was absolutely mesmerized by how well they conveyed all these nuanced in his mannerisms, actions and dialogue. 

And it’s actually a really neat way to solve the problem of Elidbus’ soul being spent in EW to send up to Elpis. Which suggested that there would be no cohesive Elidibus soul ever again. But here we have Athena basically gathering the fragments of his soul together from the Aetherial Sea and doing a good job of it too. 

The fight. It was absolute perfection. The beauty of the Convocation room. Themis’ true transformation. THE MUSIC. I have been listening to Fleeting Moment non-stop (I am listening to it now) and I could make a whole post just talking about it. It is probably my favorite version of the Amaurot theme now. The emotion in it. *clenches fist* AHHHH it’s so good.

After the fight, Themis admits that it is his interest in the WoL and the desire to know their nature that Athena exploited to bring him under her sway. This is curious since personally I didn’t get that impression from him in the previous tiers. I’m sure he was curious about us, but I never felt as though this was a driving desire in him, the way it clearly is with Ananaseios Themis. No, I think this is something that comes, at least in part, from the Elidibus we in the future. 

Other highlights:

HE’S GOING TO CHERISH EVERY MOMENT WITH US. And I perish.

A reminder that Themis is a badass. Enough to be recognized and respected by all 13 other members of the Convocation. 

And naturally: 

This whole scene was incredible. I love that it’s just him and us. I love that they allow us to be sad about him fading away. That he clearly wants to tell us these things. Wants us to understand that our relationship has purpose and meaning. That he can be content to have played his part in the salvation of the star and his soul can be at rest. 

Every single line of this scene is packed with emotion and meaning. (I absolutely cried.) But what comes after is even more packed with potential significance.

How fascinating, the truths that dwell at the edge of sleep. 

The course of history is set by its victors. It is immutable. And yet...

Should this star continue upon its path...

Look... The light...

This is most certainly a set up for 7.0 and I am FOAMING AT THE MOUTH TO KNOW MORE. WHAT’S GOING TO HAPPEN TO THE STAR?? At the end there, is that Themis being reincarnated?? ARE WE GOING TO GET TO MEET REINCARNATED THEMIS?? 

I imagine that would upset a lot of people who are tired of Ancients and Ascians and want them all gone, but fuck those people. If anyone deserves a second chance, surely it must be Themis. He gave so much and got nothing but suffering for it. 

But the possibility also raises some interesting questions about what an Unsundered reincarnated into the Source would be like. 

I feel like I could easily say more but this is already long enough. Anyway, Pandaemonium was amazing. 

[koorinokujira]

The Warrior of Light's Burden (FFXIV)

He seemed to appear out of nowhere. Just another bright, wide-eyed adventurer among countless others. Perhaps he went into it for wealth or fame. Maybe out of selflesness and a kind heart that wished to help others. Whatever it may have been, he never refused to help, from the very beginning, whether it was delivering letters between lovers or slaying wild beasts.

Dependable, that's what he was. So much so that they started calling him what they used to call them.

The brave souls that were lost during the Calamity. Silhouettes lost to the blinding light that covers our memories in a haze. The Warriors of Light.

But this one... this one wasn't like them.

It started out slowly, inconspicuously. His enemies seemed to get stronger, but his victories were still believable. A few Garleans here and there, some bandits and wrong-doers, and all that coupled with some particularly dangerous creatures. An adventurer of great skill, one worthy of a mention, to be sure.

And then he slew a Primal.

The people celebrated, showered him with praise and flattering words that seemed to never cease. After all, it was a miracle that he survived, much less defeated his adversary. And all this time, he simply watched with a polite smile on his face.

"I am but a humble adventurer," he insisted to those who praised the Warrior of Light, "surely you would have done the same things if you were in my shoes. I'm just a man. I just tried to help, to survive, like you."

Most believed him, and were willing to leave it at that.

But a miraculous victory turned into something terrifyingly ordinary. Primal fell after Primal, enemy after enemy, there were even rumors of him fighting beings that could not die by usual means. Blood flowed across the trail of destruction left behind by the one who yearned for peace and tranquility.

No, he was nothing like us.

Tales and songs of his deeds became reverent whispers. No longer was he greeted as a friend, but something much greater. Excitement was replaced by elation, wariness by terror. Only the ones closest to him dared to speak to him as casually as they did, though he insisted the common man should do so as well. Those that tried to use him for their own goals could only do so by playing on his worry for the people he sacrificed so much for already.

And oh, would he sacrifice more.

Everyone loves him and fears him in equal measure. They adore seeing him yet avert their gaze. They listen to his voice but not his words. Every single day, he bleeds for them and they say it's right. Every single night, he howls in agony out of his restless sleep and they call it holy.

And the others, they call him a monster. They fear his wrath, and it makes sense- who says he won't decide to slay them too, in the name of righteousness? Who can stand against their caring, horrifying shield made of flesh and bones? Who will save them from their savior?

Who will save him?

"I'm just a man. With feelings like you. Let me rest," he says over and over, but no one hears him anymore. "I beg you."

"I beg you. Forget the Warrior of Light. Remember me."

---✧

I know I haven't posted anything about FFXIV on this blog yet, despite playing it and adoring it for a few years now. But this has been on my mind for a while, and I've also been seeing some very tasty posts about the dehumanization of the WoL lately. So I decided to write this little story thingy from the POV of an unknown observer, also focusing a bit more on how some could actually be pretty terrified of him!

Also, big thanks to @shinkimarbles who rambled on and on about this concept with me and inspired me to write this!

[constellariums]

FFXIVWrite Day #3: Tempest and Wolchefant Week Day #3: AU

Rating: T

Pairing: Warrior of Light/Haurchefant Greystone

Description: Named WoL, Stella Altair. Haurchefant, cast adrift from his home and seeking a new beginning aboard a certain pirate ship, has a chance encounter with an adventurer amidst a raging storm.

Notes: AU where the Warrior of Light is... well, not exactly the Warrior of Light, and Haurchefant is not in Ishgard anymore for reasons.

Also this is my first time writing my actual named WoL in any real capacity!

Read on AO3!

The storm was relentless, unlike anything Haurchefant had seen. Sheets of rain heavy and loud as buckets of nails pounded down on the deck, tendrils of levin coiled around the darkened clouds, shooting bolts that lit up the blackened skies with stark, piercing light. The scent of salt and lightning set his nerves on end. He'd been up in the rigging when it had begun, patching a tear in the ropes in an attempt to be of some use, when the sun had suddenly gone dark. Frustratingly, it had been all he could do to climb down and get out of the way.

Now the brave men and women of the Kraken's Arms ran back and forth across the deck, struggling to keep the Misery afloat among the dark, towering waves. He could hear Captain Carvallain shouting orders to his men from up near the helm, see the seasoned sailors all around him working in unison to keep them on course.

"Navigator guide our sails," he found himself uttering in awe from where he'd hidden himself in the entryway to the cargo hold.

"Oh? Not the Fury this time?" an amused voice came from behind him, calm and at ease amidst crisis as ever.

He turned to see the familiar presence of an Auri woman with dark horns and scales -- an adventurer of some renown, he'd been told, hired as insurance on this dangerous mission -- standing behind him, eyes glowing pale violet in the dim light of the cargo hold, saber gleaming at her hip. She was an incredibly slight thing, though she insisted she was somewhat of a giant among Auri women; but she cut an imposing silhouette nonetheless, one that seemed to inspire his courage.

He shook his head earnestly, despite her clear teasing. "I suppose life at sea is finally wearing off on me. 'Tis difficult to witness a storm so furious and pray to the Fury of all gods to get us safely through it."

"I suppose I would agree," she shrugged, taking a step closer, so that she stood in the doorway by his side. "Though 'tis more difficult still to witness such a storm and sit idly by doing nothing," she vented, dark tail lashing behind her as she spoke.

"Aye, that it is," he agreed, finding himself wishing he was behind his shield again -- but, no, he'd left that behind long ago, and it would be of little use in these circumstances besides.

"You still haven't told me, by the way -- what are you doing here? You are clearly no sailor, and your faith and your accent speak of Ishgard of all places -- highborn, perhaps?"

She looked at him expectantly, openly curious. On their previous encounters these past few days aboard the ship she'd also asked as much, but circumstances and interruptions had prevented him from being forced to answer.

Yet... Fury, she was godsdamned perceptive. "H-How did you--"

The woman shrugged, the points of her forward-curving horns gleaming in a sudden flash of lightning. She looked towards the skies briefly, then back to him, unphased. "I've been places. Not Ishgard, admittedly; their tight borders have kept me from scratching that one off my list for quite a while -- but I've dealt with enough in various ports to distinguish your countrymen."

"I see," he answered, finding himself a bit dumbfounded.

"So? How does an Ishgardian nobleman find himself aboard a Limsan pirate ship bound for the treacherous seas of the Near East?"

Hm.

It was probably for the best not for him to speak of his circumstances; Captain Carvallain had instructed him as much when he and his network had helped him flee the continent -- keep a low profile, adopt a new identity if possible, don't let word get back home. But Carvallain's presence was wanted in Ishgard; he was House Durendaire's missing heir, whose father mourned him still. And Haurchefant... well, he'd been branded a heretic and only granted exile at the pleading of his father for mercy. Ishgard would not open its gates for him again.

And something about this woman looking at him, strong and savvy but somehow appearing terribly honest, gave him an instinctual feeling that she was someone he could trust. He didn't rightly know why -- but it wasn't simply that she was a pretty face, he was certain.

"And how does a Xaela of the Azim Steppe find herself in a similar circumstance?"

She blinked at him, then smiled knowingly -- oh, he truly was intrigued by her. "Oh? You have heard of it? I thought Ishgardians thought my kind dragonkin," she laughed, running a hand through her dark, short hair.

He cringed a bit, the little he'd learned about the Au Ra in regards to Ishgardian history coming back to him. "Some still may, perhaps... I am glad to be better educated than that," he answered sincerely. "Plus, any dragons worth fearing tend to be a bit larger than you," he teased, and the scoff that came from her lips made him grin.

"I may not be a towering dragon, but I assure you, I am still worth fearing," she answered, her glowing eyes glimmering with amusement. "So will you tell me or not?"

A powerful wave rocked the boat then, and Haurchefant stumbled, struggling to stay standing upright -- the woman at his side grabbed his arm to steady him as she held fast to the doorframe, positioning him with a rather shocking strength.

When the wave passed, both of them breathing heavily but still intact and notably not underwater, she let go of him, cocking an eyebrow as if to say "Well?"

"Are you sure this is the time?" Haurchefant panted, still catching his breath.

"Why not? We aren't sailors; we are both useless in this storm. All we can do is watch and wait while others do the work -- wouldn't you rather share stories?"

"An excellent point," he conceded, and she smiled again, seeming pleased. A flicker of warmth lit in his chest, and he found himself offering her his outstretched hand. "Haurchefant Greystone, at your service," he said, placing a palm at his chest.

She grinned, taking his hand in a firm handshake, the smooth texture of the scales at the back of her hand surprising under his fingertips. "Stella Altair of the Kha," she answered, making eye contact before dropping her hand from his.

[garsideofthemoon]

FFXIV Write Day 2: Horizon

Was hoping to post this on AO3 but. Y'know.

Early ShB, spoilers for CT storyline. Dark Knight!WoL/G'raha, very angsty

"I'm afraid I saw no such individual residing in the tower when it passed into my care."

The Exarch continued to speak, but Vidura did not hear his words. He was trapped in the memory of losing G'raha, as fresh as if it had happened just yesterday. Suddenly the Tower felt oppressive, its crystalline walls all too similar to the ones that had surrounded Raha, when he smiled at Vidura and shut the Tower doors in his face.

I shall create a future where hope reins, where our present tragedies are distant memories. When thou dost wake, G'raha Tia, the star shall be a paradise erected in thy memory.

Vidura had meant every word he'd said to G'raha Tia that day. Gods help him, how he'd meant it. How much of the intervening years had he devoted to the pursuit of justice, so that the world Raha returned to might be better than the one he'd left? How often had he dreamt of the Tower's doors opening, and embracing his beloved once again?

Vidura could not bear to be in this Tower for one more instant. He could not bear to look upon the Crystal Exarch, whose aetheric signature was at once hauntingly familiar and a monstrosity the likes of which Vidura had never seen. Most of all, he could not bear to meet Krishna's eyes. He did not want his brother in arms to know how much Vidura had yearned for his lost love in the years since the Tower had been sealed. "Excuse me," Vidura said. His voice shook like the earth below Titan's feet. He turned and fled the Tower, ignoring the voices of his brother and the Exarch.

He ran through the streets of the Crystarium, his armor clinking. Some passersby looked at him quizzically, but most paid him no mind. Perhaps they were like the city-dwellers in Eorzea, and used to half-mad adventurers.

At the edge of the city, amidst fields of grapes and amaro feed, stood a wooden watchtower. Vidura squinted, but could not make out any aetheric signatures at its summit.  He climbed up the stairs, sweat beading on his brow.

When he came to the top he was treated to an unobstructed view of the forest around the city. Lilac trees swayed in the breeze, their leaves casting dappled shadows upon the grassy paths below. A large castle stood tall in the distance, flanked by two fortresses speckled with aetheric signatures. The sunless sky presided over all, its everlasting light coruscating over the landscape.

"Might be lying."

Vidura glanced at the man next to him, whose aetheric signature was a dark copy of his own. "He might be," Vidura said. There were no secrets between them. "But I cannot afford to latch myself to vain hopes."

Fray snorted. "True enough." He looked out into the horizon, where endless light met ravaged earth. "We have our work cut out for us."

Vidura snorted. "Aye, that we do."

They sat there, gazing at the incandescent sky, until Krishna came and yelled at Vidura to get off his arse and see their damned apartment.

[nearlyjaye]

through the dark

Sidurgu/WoL/G'raha | 1.3k | Mature

Sidurgu and G'raha reminisce on their relationship with the Warrior of Light.

CW for NSFW text and references to sexual content.

“Are you sure you’re doing alright, my love?”

He asks it with the utmost gentleness, sliding his head down on the pillow so he’s closer to Zala’s level. She hums sleepily into the mattress from her position on her belly, only turning her head when G’raha carefully nudges her cheek to catch her attention again. Though he’s already checked in while he took the warm, damp cloth between her legs and brought her a glass of water, he needs to hear her say it one more time.

“Mmhmm, Raha. I’m more than alright—there’s no need to fret about me.”

A smile breaks across his face at her words and the way her bangs cascade into her fluttering lashes. He brushes them away and sighs in small relief, biting back the urge to praise her again for how well she did tonight—his cock is already exhausted inside the shorts he pulled on, but even if it wasn’t, he doesn’t want to risk disturbing Zala’s much-needed doze beside him.

Instead, he merely cards his fingers through her tangled curls to settle on her bare shoulders, mapping the distance between old and new scars alike as he listens to her breaths even out. His heart is so full with her that it takes him a moment to register the door to their bedroom sliding open and the tall figure entering.

“Ahem—” Sidurgu’s voice clears lowly, eyes tearing away when they land on the bed in front of him. He’s cleaned and re-dressed himself in an undershirt and shorts, scratching at his neck while he gestures towards the direction of the living room outside. “...I’ll just be out here, if you still don’t mind.”

But G’raha frowns as Sidurgu turns to go retire to the couch they’d offered him to crash on before things had, well… Escalated.

“We don’t mind, but—” he whispers loudly, catching Sidurgu in the doorframe. “Y-you could also sleep here, if you’d like. With us. That sofa will not be kind to your spine, and our bed is large enough for three, anyways.”

He’s not sure what compels him to say it—Zala’s nearly completely asleep, and he’s only met this old friend of hers a few bells ago. Perhaps it’s the lingering taste of Sidurgu’s tongue on his lips, or the imprints of his nails on Zala’s waist, but somehow it just feels wrong to send him away for the remainder of the night.

Sidurgu hesitates, shifting awkwardly. “If it would not be intruding…”

“Oh, not at all!” G’raha encourages, reaching over Zala’s form to pull back the edge of their quilt. “Please. And I know for certain she’d say the same as well.”

The bed creaks after Sidurgu treads over to recline on the very edge, one leg attached to the floor as if he’s still contemplating fleeing. He glances over at the both of them from the corner of his eye, and G’raha gives him a reassuring smile. The air is different now that the intense fog of desire has settled and Zala is no longer facilitating conversation between them like she had at their impromptu meeting in Gridania, but something about the man’s steady gaze keeps him at ease.

Still, he’s surprised when Sidurgu’s the first to speak. “...She’s already asleep,” he notes as G’raha continues stroking her hair and shoulder blades.

It brings a wash of bittersweetness over him, memories of night after night of waking up to Zala reading or pacing or fiddling with her sword in an attempt to tire herself out. She’d had trouble sleeping since Silvertear—when he’d force himself to stay awake so she wouldn’t have to feel alone, pinching himself to keep his eyes open and keep researching with her. Moments he’d soon wish he’d tried harder at, wondering what tiny details he hadn’t been able to etch into his mind to pull out on the darkest, loneliest of nights.

But every aching second of missing her was worth the gift of soothing away her worries now, trailing his fingers down the curve of her back like he knows she loves so much. “I suppose much has changed since you two last spent time with one another,” he muses, a twinge of guilt forming in his chest at the way Sidurgu slowly nods. G’raha knows a summable portion of her pain and sleepless nights back then stemmed from his own actions, and though time and forgiveness has healed them both, he doesn’t think the reminder will ever not sting.

“I thought myself to be… different, especially over the last few years,” Sidurgu murmurs, “But…”

He rolls to his side, guardedness slightly slipping as he rests his head on a palm. “I’ve never seen her like this.”

It makes G’raha chuckle, cheeks feeling warm. “That is… in a positive way, I hope?”

Sidurgu’s lips quirk. “I’d say so. You have something very special with her.”

G’raha’s blush flares, and he ducks his head sheepishly at the implication. Even after all they’ve been through, the acknowledgement that what they have is real, that they’re together… it still feels like a dream. 

But he doesn’t miss the cloud that deepens seafoam eyes, the lower lip swollen and marked by multiple pairs of teeth curling into an expression G’raha can only place as wistful. Mayhap he’d feel a hint of jealousy if they were in any other scenario—but after witnessing the regard and trust Zala and Sidurgu hold with one another, watching the tension melt from their bodies as they whispered into horn and ear…

He can’t help but slowly slide his hand across the bed until it meets Sidurgu’s. Feeling the callouses, the scars, the worn skin of his knuckles, quelling a thumb over his scales until the larger hand relaxes into his. It’s only then that he guides them both to Zala’s back, hovering for a long beat before tenderly resting them on her. She sighs contently in her sleep, letting out a quiet purr as two hands splay across her, covering her, shielding her. As they’ve always wanted to do, even when they were apart.

“Thank you, Sidurgu. For taking care of her when I could not.” 

There’s a wave of unexpected emotion that forms a lump in his throat at the words, and he has to cut himself off before it overtakes him. He could go on all night about how much it means to him that he’d watched over her, made sure she wasn’t alone, comforted her in whatever way she needed. But for now, all he can do is smile as Sidurgu’s hand engulfs his, squeezing in recognition as his longer legs finally rise to the bed to tuck himself in next to them.

An incantation ghosts over G’raha’s lips as he dims the lights of the room, and oh, how the meaning of darkness has changed for each of them over the years. It’s something he now holds close to his heart, the same as every new memory he gets to make. With her. With the people he read and re-read about until the pages were worn and his fingers were trembling, never daring to believe he could mean something to them.

But G’raha’s growing drowsy as well, snuggling closer to his moon, his Zala, draping his tail over her for more coverage as he buries his face into her scent. The fluttering affection swells between his ribs as he feels Sidurgu shift to mirror him, fully sinking into her other side and holding onto him and Zala both.

He’ll find a way to properly thank Sidurgu later. For now, he’s content to merely soak in the shared intimacy of the dark.

[last-flight-of-fancy]

Four times Scions assume the nature of Hallima's relationships, and one time they are completely wrong.

Wol: Hallima, Au Ra he/they. Occasional vague references to other WoL's

Timeline: ARR to vaguely mid-EW. Explicit spoilers for ShB and Dark Knight HW quests.

rating: T (swearing, references to sex)

Pairings run the gamut from traditionally romantic to found family to queerplatonic to friends with benefits, inlcuding but not limited to:

WoL/Aymeric, Aymeric/Estinian, WoL/G'raha, WoL/Leofard (physical only), WoL/Estinian (estinian insists its companionably physical only but lbr he's Attached)

To say the entrance of what remained of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn into Ishgard had been a cold and miserable affair would be nothing short of an impressive understatement. Still reeling from the loss of their friends and on the run, even once they start to get their feet under them, ending the Dragonsong War and earning the respect of much of Ishgard’s historically xenophobic population, they generally had greater things on their minds than something as petty as romantic entanglements.

It was a missed opportunity of unfortunate timing, looking back. Haurchefaunt could not have been more obvious in his intent, but the recipient of them simply did not have the attention to spare for them. Something which Haurchefaunt seemed to understand at least, even if that does not quite soften the sting of grief and lost potential. All present were aware of them though, even if there wasn’t space to act on it, and it is generally quietly agreed upon to let such matters lie for a time.

Which is why Alphinaud is rendered entirely at a loss for words when Emmanellain takes him aside to inquire after exactly that.

“I beg your pardon?” He has to make sure he’s heard right.

“Our dear old boy has made quite a name for himself you know, it would be passing strange if no one at all has made any advances on him.” Emmanellain nods with confidence, as if this makes perfect sense. Perhaps to him it does. “And as House de Fortemps leading gossip monger t’would be remiss of me not get my news direct from the source. Or direct adjacent to it at least.”

“I rather think we have more important things to worry about, don’t you?” Alphinaud holds himself steady, despite desperately wishing there were a nearby window he could throw himself out of.

“Not at all!” Emmanellain says cheerfully. “The dalliances of the nobility have ever been the subject of much gossip and scrutiny, t’would not be an exaggeration to say it is an entire realm of politics within itself! And our dear mutual friend most certainly counts after all he has accomplished.”

Something niggles at the base of Alphinaud’s ear, and he’s learned to listen to his instincts in matters such as these.

“How much gil do you have riding on the answer?” He asks. Emmanellain ducks his head slightly at having been caught out, but barrels on despite the flush dusting his eartips.

“That’s of no matter, old boy, truly. Even if I did not I would be curious as a dear friend!” Emmanellain pauses then, lowering his voice. “There are rather more nasty rumours attached to those one’s too, of course.”

“Is that a threat?” Alphinaud glares, posture tensing sharply with the implication. He hadn’t expected such a thing from the youngest Fortemps son, but then he hadn’t expected it from the Crystal Braves either.

“What?” Emmanellain blinks, surprised. “No, not at all. I merely wished to hear the truth from the chocobo’s mouth. Second-hand. Mostly because our dear Warrior of Light is surprisingly difficult to get a hold of.”

This is not Alphinaud’s experience, who hardly has to utter a word before Hallima would be there ready to offer advice or support. He rather suspects this is on purpose.

“Fine.” Alphinaud heaves a heavy sigh. “What rumours?”

“Oh a great many, but most recent are some sightings of him in the Brume. It’s all a touch confused, but there’s something about other dragon men and a lovers quarrel.”

“Well there definitely wasn’t a lovers quarrel.” Alphinaud snorts. Such a thing would require a lover, first of all. “But he has been spending a lot of time in the Brume and Forgotten Knight, that much is true. I believe he has taken up a mentor in knighthood there.”

“Oh?” Emmanellain seems delighted by this. “Perhaps this does explain some of the rumours, and the rest are simply exaggerations for a salacious crowd. Is he truly taking up sword and shield like Haurchefaunt?”

Emmanellain seems so hopeful at the prospect of the Warrior following in his departed half-brother’s footsteps that Alphinaud hesitates to answer.

“I do not know for certain. I know only that he has taken up the sword and meets with his mentor whenever he has a spare moment.”

“I see, I see.” Emmanellain nods solemnly. “Perhaps that is where the tales of lover’s quarrels arise then. T’would not be the first nor the last coupling that sprung from the heightened passions of battle and the tight bond between mentor and disciple.”

“I sincerely doubt it.”

-

The truth was this.

Meeting Sidurgu is…. strange. Amongst other things.

Past the obvious fact that they share a heritage and beyond the fact that Hallima is resolutely ignoring that first fact for his own peace of mind, there is something about Sid that feels familiar in a way he can’t quite pinpoint.

Sid is rough and blunt and not always quick to catch on, but who cares deeply at heart beneath all the carefully crafted spikes and scales of his past. Rielle is small and quiet and still learning to unearth the firebrand wit and bullheaded stubbornness that her past tried so hard to bury. She reminds Hallima of Minfillia, were Minfillia an elezen girl of barely twelve summers and a parental unit who does not deserve a title so kind as ‘mother’.

But Sid reminds him of… someone. No one. He’s not sure.

It’s not Haurchefaunt. In fact Sidurgu couldn’t be more different from Haurchefaunt if he tried.

Maybe that’s it.

(It won't be for months yet that Hallima will meet another Auri adventurer, and weeks after that before they find their way to the Azim Steppe. Both of these things will bring answers and questions more in equal measure)

It’s obvious when they first meet that Sid and Rielle are both still grieving their lost friend, a friend that Hallima’s subconscious had stolen and appropriated in a way that thoroughly blurred the line between where Hallima began and Fray ended. Esteem slumbers now, curled deep within the Abyss unless needed, but to deny his existence is to deny simple reality. Many would have found that reality difficult to grapple with, but thankfully Sid is no stranger to the unorthodox ways the powers of a Dark Knight can manifest, and bears him no grudge for it.

Perhaps that’s why, despite Sidurgu by all rights being everything Hallima tends to gravitate to in a partner aesthetically- tall, elegantly beautiful, undeniably masculine- nothing ever quite arises between them. Perhaps he simply feels like he’s trodden upon Fray’s grave enough already.

Which in the end suits all of them just fine. Hallima doesn’t need that sort of attachment to swing by the Forgotten Knight just to share a drink and talk, or to be pulled outside by Rielle in order to engage in an impromptu snowball fight. They are brothers in arms, in the truest, purest sense of the phrase, united in the darkness of the Abyss.

Pain brought them together, and love makes them return.

-

(“Did you see the way he reacted?” Rielle asks, after Hallima has left and it is just her and Sid left in the Forgotten Knight.

“To what?” Sid glances at her, curious.

“Your story about the Orl.”

“What about it?”

“I’m not sure exactly… Almost like he was remembering it. Do you think something similar happened to him?”

Sid hums to himself, almost a growl in his throat, but not quite so menacing. It’s possible, no one seems to know much of the vaunted Warrior of Light’s past after all.

But there are certain things that… The warrior’s purely Gridanian accent, his obvious lack of knowledge for their shared history, the age wear on his scales that any Au Ra would have long since put a traditional balm on… Sid himself has lost much and more of his cultural identity since the family of his birth was torn so brutally from him, but he retains what scraps he can. Hallima on the other hand seems to know almost nothing. It wasn’t far fetched at all to think another tribe fleeing the Steppe may have met a fate similar to his own.

“Maybe…” Rielle bites her lip, unsure if she should continue. “Maybe you’re not the last Orl.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Sid snorts. “He’s not Xaela.”

But even to him the excuse is weak. He remembers there being at least two Raen amongst the Orl, either married or adopted into the family in the course of their escape from the Empire. There may have been more, but the memories are too fuzzy and distant now to be sure.

He does remember the day a new babe had been born into the family, though mostly for how he couldn’t ride in the cart that day and the next as a result, and his feet had hurt terribly by the end of it. His father had carried him when he could, but at ten summers Sid was quickly getting too big for such extended exertion, and could only do so for short periods.

He remembers sneaking into the cart in the dead of night to stick his tongue out at the sleeping babe and mother, childishly upset at being put out and wanting to vent his frustration. Both had slept on entirely unaware of him, and he’d left feeling foolish but calmed. He doesn’t remember what either of them looked like, shrouded by memory and darkness.

“I guess it must’ve just been that Echo that people talk about then.” Rielle says, and Sid doubts she’s completely bought his deflection but she lets him have it anyway.)

-

It was no secret amongst the Scions that Aymeric was courting the Warrior of Light, or at the very least attempting to. If the many letters and gifts did not give it away, then Alphinaud’s tales of the utterly besotted looks that Aymeric would give said Warrior certainly would.

The question was not whether Aymeric was attempting to court the Au Ra. It was whether his affections were reciprocated.

“Hallima is a bit… inscrutable in these matters.” Alphinaud admits as the group sits around a table in the Rising Stones.

“Mayhap he simply has no interest in them.” Y’shtola says, paying full attention to the conversation despite initial protestations at its silliness. “Some do not, after all.”

“Minfillia was like that, wasn’t she?” Alisaie asks, and Y’shtola nods.

“Aye, oft did she tell me that she could not imagine an individual love eclipsing her love for Eorzea as a whole.”

The pang of loss stings still, but there is comfort in discussing their lost leader in this casually fond way.

“Hallima’s not though.” Thancred shakes his head, arms crossed.

“How do you know?” Alphinaud tilts his head, genuinely confused. Thancred shrugs.

“I just do. I’ve got a sense for these things.”

“For all save thineself.” Urianger says just evenly enough to give lie to the dry humour beneath. Thancred flicks his fingers at him, but the action lacks any true annoyance.

“You better not have slept with him.” Alisaie warns, pointing a finger at him like a sword. Thancred puts his hands up defensively.

“Come now, what do you take me for? He’s not my type. You know, the feminine kind.”

Alphinaud fiddles with his cup intently, while Alisaie stares flatly at Thancred, and Urianger coughs under his breath. Y’shtola hides her expression in her tea.

“What?”

“None of this tells us if Hallima is aware of Aymeric’s advances.” Alphinaud taps his fingers to his cheek thoughtfully. “It’s possible he may have interest but simply does not know the intent behind the gestures.” This is a silly use of his intellect, but it’s nice to use it for something less serious once in a while. Like having a sweet after weeks of nothing but Archon Loaf.

He doesn’t actually mind Archon Loaf all that much, at least not compared to many, but he could still enjoy the sweet all the same.

“Well, if you ask me, and you should,” Tataru speaks up as she approaches the table, arms full of a large platter replete with snacks, “I don’t know if Hal knows the more noble courting gestures, but he definitely knows the language of longing looks and lingering touches.”

“And how do YOU know that?” Alisaie says, scandal in her tone. Alphinaud raises an eyebrow at her, surprised at her reactions. Usually he was the prudish one (in her words).

“I pay attention.” Tataru winks, passing the tray up to the table for all to reach.

“Well, we know he is not of any noble house.” Alphinaud says.

“Obviously.” Alisaie snorts. “If there was a noble house full of horned dragon people anywhere on this continent I think we would know about it.”

“Indeed.” Y’shtola idly rubs a finger along the rim of her cup. “It does make one wonder how he came to be in this part of the world. His kind are not a common sight beyond the far East.”

“Forsooth,” Urianger says quietly, unheard by all aside Y’shtola when the snack platter is nudged the wrong way and clatters loudly to the floor to the dismay of all. “I believe he dost not know.”

-

The truth was this.

Hallima has had less and few opportunities to explore things like relations and relationships in his largely brief time of being properly aware of them as a concept. Which is to say this is why he entirely missed Haurchefaunt’s intent until he lay dying in his arms, by which point it was, of course, much too late.

This event did prompt Hallima to pay more attention to these things however, and thus did in fact catch on to Aymeric’s gesture’s fairly quickly, with only a few stumbling blocks in the form of how Aymeric is also simply just… Like that. Particularly with Estinian. A fact which neither of them bring up until months later when Hallima stumbles into Ishgard looking more than a little haggard and exhausted besides.

“I feel as if it’s been an age and more since we had the chance to talk.” Aymeric says as he fills a pair of cups with a wine he has been saving for just such an occasion. “Even by letter, you are a difficult man to send mail to.”

An understatement if there ever was one. Hallima snorts and takes the offered cup, drinking long and deep before relaxing back into the too-plush chair with a sigh.

“Though by your countenance I surmise that your tales of late have not been entirely joyful.”

“You could say that.” Another understatement. Hallima doesn’t really want to talk about the way the Scions appear to be dropping like flies to some mysterious malady, or how much sleep they’ve been losing worrying about Alphinaud and his self-imposed mission to Garlemald. “Tell me about Ishgard. How the changes are coming.”

“As you wish.” Aymeric nods, and so he does. It’s nothing Hallima doesn’t already know really, having seen the fruits of his labours whilst travelling through the Brume and during his visits to Sid and Rielle. They let Aymeric’s voice wash over them, soft and smooth and a balm against so many other worries.

They don’t even realize they’ve dozed off until what must be much later, still sitting in the plush chair but now with a crick in their neck and a blanket draped carefully across them. Candlelight flickers beyond closed eyelids and the sound of a quill on parchment the only noise. They are still in Aymeric’s study, and apparently the man had no issue with a sleeping Au Ra occupying his spare furniture while he worked.

They rub the crust from their eyes with a wince, trying to gauge the time but all they can really gather is that it’s dark as pitch through the windows, which tells them only that it is somewhere between dinner and breakfast.

“Ah, you’re awake.” Aymeric looks up from his parchment with a smile. “Forgive my leaving you to your rest, but I thought you might need it.”

Hallima nods, but does not elaborate. They still don’t really want to talk about it.

“Sorry about that.” They say instead, attempting and failing to smother a jaw-cracking yawn.

“No need for that. If my friend needs to recoup his rest in my study then that is what he shall receive.”

“Is that what we are?”

Hallima blames their sleep addled state for the blunt slip of the tongue, but thankfully Aymeric seems neither surprised nor offended by it.

“First and foremost, yes, of course.” He says carefully, setting his quill down to give Hallima his full attention. “But if you mean in regard to the possibility of us being something else… Well, perhaps that is a conversation long overdue.”

Perhaps it is. It doesn’t still the nervous beat of Hallima’s heart. They nod.

“First before all else I must ask you; Hallima, is a relationship something you want?”

“… I don’t know if that’s something I can give.” They admit, wincing at the necessary honesty. “Even if I weren’t always pulled hither and yon I’ve never felt the call to stay in a single place for long.”

Aymeric’s smile is soft and he shakes his head.

“Nor would I expect you to, but that isn’t what I asked, my friend.”

“I…” There are so many things, so many reasons, they bottleneck in Hallima’s throat. “I’ve never…”

“Would it help, perhaps, if I made clear what it is I would beget from such a connection?”

Hallima nods. Aymeric stands then, moving around his desk and kneeling in front of them, his expression serious but not hard.

“I would have your company when you have time to give it. The chance to lavish you with affection and gifts and whatever you should wish for that you cannot attain yourself. I wish to give you a place you may always return to, whensoever you may want or need.”

Aymeric takes a breath, but he’s clearly not finished, and Hallima waits, heartbeat pounding in their ears.

“By that token I do not require what some may consider part and parcel of such a relationship, though I would welcome most all the same. I would not tie you down like a bird within a gilded cage, either physically or emotionally, nor do I require what most would consider the… consummation part of things.”

“You can just say sex.” Hallima says, feeling a touch light headed. Aymeric gives a small chuckle.

“Indelicately, yes. I would most certainly welcome it, but only at your own comfort. Which brings me to an important… Consideration, if we were to go through with such a partnership.”

Somehow this grounds Hallima, and they start to feel steady again. They are used to things being asked of them, but more than that they need this clarity.

“Which is?”

Aymeric takes a deep breath, for the first time looking a touch nervous himself, worrying a strip of fabric between two fingers in a subtle tell that Hallima only sees because they know to look for it.

“You are aware that Estinian and I are… close, yes?”

“Yes…?” Hallima tilts their head before realization hits them with the force of stampeding chocobo’s. “Oh.”

Aymeric’s smile becomes thin in the face of Hallima’s apparent shock, and it makes Hallima wonder how many of these conversations Aymeric has had where this was the point where things turned south.

“Indeed. To put it bluntly, Estinian and I have had our arrangement for a great many years now, and I will not abide jealousy or possessiveness where he is concerned. If this is not something you believe you can do I ask that you say so now, I will judge you not for it.”

Several things click into place in Hallima’s head and heart at once.

“You’ve been scorned for this before, haven’t you?” Is out of their mouth before they can think better of it, followed quickly by a wince and, “Wait, that’s- you don’t have to answer that. Sorry.”

“’Tis a natural curiosity.” Aymeric’s chuckle is sincere at least. “Aye, I have. Not all are suited to an arrangement like this, and many simply cannot fathom splitting romantic commitment twixt multiple partners. As stated, I judge them not for their natural inclinations, only regret in their poor reaction to anything different from their own.”

They’ve seen enough of Ishgard to know how rigidly the state adheres to the familiar, both for survival and comfort. Hallima can only imagine how carefully Aymeric had to tread with something that would have so easily invited scandal at best and accusations of heresy at worst.

Hallima may not have known such a thing was even possible a bell ago, but already it feels as natural as breathing to them.

“Doesn’t seem that strange to me.”

“Full glad am I for that, then.” Aymeric’s smile loses much of its tenseness. “I take it you are not opposed..?”

“Consider me fully in favour.”

-

Aymeric doesn’t get much more work done that night.

-

All things considered Tataru Taru manages to establish a solid network of gossip and information from her seat within the Forgotten Knight with astonishing speed. Such was the talent that she had recently discovered in herself, and one she was determined to put to full use. For the good of Eorzea of course.

Being as how the bulk of her experience lay in being tender to the Scion’s collective coinpurse, it thus made sense that she grew to know who was of like inclination in the area as well. So it was that when a hyur woman took her seat next to Tataru, Tataru was not at all surprised by it.

“Stacia.” She greets, barely looking up from her mug (watered down, but alcoholic enough to keep an appearance).

“Taru.” The Red Bill Pirate greets in turn, motioning to the bartender for a drink.

“I hear you’ve picked up an adventurer to help with your recent troubles.”

Tataru expects her to play coy, make her guess, but instead Stacia grins.

“That we did. And you’ll never guess who.”

Tataru feels like she can, actually.

“The bleeding’ saviour of Ishgard himself!”

Got it in one.

“Well well, lucky for you.” Tataru means that sincerely. “I’d say your problems are all but solved now.”

“Well, not quite yet, but it’s looking a damn sight better than it was before. Not to mention the Captain has taken such a shine to him, it’s right nice to see.”

Tataru squints up the pirate skeptically.

“We are talking about Leofard, right? The incorrigible flirt?”

“Oh he’ll flirt up one side and down the other, make no mistake.” Stacia nods. “But he don’t often mean it past a little fun. Wouldn’t surprise me none if he tried to talk Hallima into joining the crew full time.”

“He’s welcome to try.” Tataru snorts, taking a sip of her watered down beverage. Stacia chuckles.

“Aye, tis clear the Warrior’s heart is elsewhere, but even still. Even just making the offer means much from Leo.”

Tataru may not know the man herself, but she can imagine it well enough. Too bad for him, she rather doubted Hallima was the sort to be swayed by a pretty face.

-

The truth was this.

Hallima could definitely be swayed by a pretty face at least once.

-

(They part ways sated and on good terms with no strings attached. A night less about passion than about the feeling of safety without the burden of unresolved emotional baggage. Hallima has a standing invitation to come back anytime.)

-

It’s not that surprising when it’s Alisaie who confronts Estinian. Nor is it surprising that she does so alone, which tells Estinian that he is about to get an earful and a half from a child who stands less than half his height.

A bizarrely common occurrence since he had joined up with the scions, all told.

That said however, he has no intention of playing into whatever her hand is, so when she stands imperiously over him with arms crossed and glaring he responds by leaning back in his chair and staring right back.

She, predictably, hates this, and it’s not long before she cracks.

“What are your intentions with Hallima?”

Estinian blinks. Of all the things for her to take him to task for, he honestly hadn’t expected that one.

“What?”

“What. Are your intentions. With Hallima.” She repeats, as if he is a particularly slow and impetuous child.

“In what regard?” He waves a hand. “As a fellow scion? As Azure Dragoon? As brothers in arms against the end of all on this star?”

“As a-“ Alisaie flushes as red as her coat. “As a. Partner. Romantically.”

“None.” He answers frankly. Alisaie glares again.

“You had better not be lying to me. We’ve all seen you coming in and out of their room at all hours.”

“I am many things but I am not a liar.” Estinian huffs. “And what I, or the Warrior of Light for that matter, do on our own time is our own business I should think.”

“It is.” Alisaie admits, though it seems to cause her great pain to do so. “I just… Want to make sure they’re treated right. We all know how they tend to put all others above themself.”

Estinian feels himself smile a touch. This much is a fact, and he more than understands the protective instinct for a loved one; there are at least two bodies buried in the snows of Coerthas of some particularly unsavoury souls who had attempted to take advantage of Aymeric’s good nature and unorthodox relationship for blackmail purposes.

Aymeric doesn’t know of course, and Estinian is inclined to keep it that way.

He reaches out to put a hand atop Alisaie’s head gently.

“A noble cause.” He says. “And one I would likewise pledge myself to.”

Alisaie bats his hand away, trying and failing not to pout adorably at being treated like a child, but she seems mollified by his reaction at least.

“Well. Good then. Right.”

-

The truth was this.

Estinian and Hallima are assuredly not courting, though they do often commiserate on their mutual connection through Aymeric. This much was accurate.

They are also, and this Estinian entirely failed to mention to Alisaie, definitely fucking when time and energy permits.

Which isn’t that often all told, but such is the reality of being the hero’s of a star.

-

The truth is this.

Hallima has a type.

Tall, pretty, undeniably masculine.

G’raha Tia, by his own measure, fits none of these things particularly well. All things being a matter of perspective of course, he has long forced himself to be realistic where his personal hero was concerned.

Unfortunately he was not wrong to either. G’raha was masculine enough to be sure, but his is a boyish sort of charm, quite apart from the more measured and confident types he has seen Hallima drawn to time and again. The same could be said for his looks as well, G’raha considers himself to be rather middle of the road as far as aesthetic went, and while that did not bother him overmuch it did much to dampen his chances.

As for tall, well….

Every time he has to crane his head up to look the seven fulm Auri in their vibrant magenta eyes, G’raha knows he never really stood a chance.

Of course that would imply that he ever thought he had a chance before such preferences became clear, and that is nearly as laughable as said chances, but still. At a certain point it does feel a bit like the universe is laughing at his fool stubborn heart.

Not that any of this really matters of course. Even if G’raha had any plan for surviving past the hero’s return to the Source (he does not), all he truly wanted was to just.. Be there. By the Warrior’s side, adventuring and laughing and telling stories. What cruel irony of his own making it was that he cannot have even that, hidden beneath the Exarch’s mantle as he is.

But the Warrior will live. Hallima will live. And that is all that matters.

For both the star…

And for him.

-

(Hallima calls his name, and several hundred years of resigned determination crumbles like dust.)

-

The truth is actually this.

Hallima had a pretty good idea that he knew who the Exarch was from about…. week two. The only reason it took that long was because G’raha had glamoured himself quite thoroughly to hide his mi’quote traits, and obviously spent many years training himself to hide whatever other tells he could. Unfortunately for G’raha, Hallima had an uncanny ability to remember people, even amongst beast tribes that many had difficulty telling apart. It is probable that nothing short of a full fantasia transformation would have thrown them off for long, and the body dysphoria as a result of a transformation not fully wanted- as well as the rarity of the substance- just wasn’t worth it in the long run.

So yes, Hallima knew, and held their tongue about it. They didn’t know why G’raha was so intent on hiding his identity, whether to throw off some pursuer or perhaps had lost his memory or some other strange effect of Syrcus Tower, but Hallima had every intent of figuring it out before they went blabbing to all and sundry about it. Unfortunately whatever investigating they could do had to take place in between everything else, so it’s no surprise when they never really get anywhere with it.

In the end they run out of time, and as the Exarch steps forward in a blatantly fake attempt to play the villain, Hallima knows it’s now or never.

They call his name, his hood and glamours falling away, revealing his expression to them for the first time since the doors of the Crystal Tower had closed between them so very long ago.

He looks heartbroken.

Looking back, Hallima will realize this as a turning point, if a small one of many, but a significant one nonetheless. It starts to become clear just the kind of depth of emotion that G’raha harbours for them, and it’s… Intimidating. Something which almost rings absurd when it becomes clear that G’raha fully believes that he is far beneath the Warrior’s time or attention.

And yes, Hallima will be the first to admit that he has a Type. This much is most certainly true.

However, and this the perpetually self-doubting mi’quote had failed to take into account, it is not the only factor.

Did it mean that it took a bit longer for Hallima to notice said affections? Yes. Did it mean that Hallima had to spend a non-zero amount of time trying to figure out what they felt beyond pure physical inclination? Also yes. There was also the small matter of how G’raha had essentially been lying to them for months on end, and regardless of his understandable reasoning, that still stung a bit. Not enough to sour them, but it did add to the pile of complications Hallima needed to work through before their feelings could go anywhere.

All this was of course significantly stalled by the ever present threat of the Final Days and all that surrounded them, so it’s not until much, much later that Hallima finally gets to walk into Sharlyan and offer G’raha the one thing he wanted most of all.

“An adventure?” Red ears perk in surprise and excitement as Hallima talks various details with Krile. There is a long pause as he wrestles with his desire and his responsibilities, and then-

“Ohhh, go on, Raha.” Krile says with a laugh. “I can handle things here for a bit. Bring me back a good story, alright?”

Hallima finds himself grinning at the sheer, animated joy G’raha springs into with her permission, barely waiting long enough to put his books down before he’s out the door with a spring in his step and a shine in his eyes.

It’s this moment that Hallima wonders why they didn’t find him attractive before.

They wait a few days, taking the opportunity to finally spend some more low-stakes time together and get in some of that adventuring that G’raha has longed for. It’s the least he deserves after everything he’s given and sacrificed really. Hopping from place to place, solving mysteries and fighting monsters. It rings of a simpler time to both of them really.

It’s a beautiful night, the moon hanging full and bright in the sky, partial cloud cover and a lack of wind rendering the night temperate enough to make the campside fire almost unnecessary but for the kettle simmering just above the low flame.

G’raha pokes at the embers with a stick, sending a shiver of sparks into the air, a small smile on his face.

“A few more minutes, I should think.” He says.

“For your legendary hot chocolate recipe?”

“Did Lyna tell you that? Well, she may have over sold it a touch, and I am no culinarian, but I will admit that this one thing I can make to standard.”

“As long as it’s not sludge then it’s probably better than anything I could make.” Hallima says. “Seriously though, I’m sure it’ll be great, give yourself some credit.”

G’raha’s ear flicks, a pleased tell.

“I must thank you again, my friend. This trip has been nothing short of everything I had hoped for.”

“Good, I’m glad.” Hallima grins. “But we’re not done yet. We have at least another week or two before Krile will start expecting us back.”

“We had best make the most of it then.” G’raha meets Hallima’s gaze, relaxed and content in a way he rarely got to be, brilliant red hair lit to glowing in the dim firelight.

“That’s the plan.” Hallima leans back and closes his eyes, basking in the fire’s warmth and considering his next move.

And he would have to make the next move. Raha certainly wasn’t going to.

”Ah, I do believe it’s ready!” G’raha announces proudly as he lifts the kettle from its hook. Hallima waits patiently as G’raha sets about pouring the warmed milk into a pair of cups, adding a precise mix of chocolate and spices to them and stirring carefully.

“Thank you.” Hallima says when he’s offered his share, and the two sit quietly as they sip carefully on the drink.

“I was right. It’s delicious.” Hallima grins teasingly at G’raha, who tries to cover his flush with a cough, though the tilt of his ears betray him anyway.

“Very good. I wasn’t sure if it would be quite the same, as Aldgoat milk and what we used on the First is of a slightly different consistency and- ah. Anyway. I digress. I’m glad you like it.”

“Don’t stop yourself on my account.” Hallima chuckles. “I like listening to you ramble.”

“You say that now, but you’ll regret it by hour five.” G’raha warns, but his lips are turned upwards. “Even Krile tires of me after a long enough.”

“I suppose I will simply have to take a break by getting you some water. You must be parched after that long.”

“You tease, but truly there have been times where I could have kissed such a person for bringing such refreshments in the midst of a long lecture.”

“I’ll have to keep that in mind.” Hallima’s smirk does not lessen, and he rests his chin on the palm of his hand.

It takes G’raha a second to process that the intent of the tease is exactly what it sounds like, and from there he flusters adorably, ears flicking and eyes darting to and from Hallima several times in quick succession. His tail swishes wildly behind him.

“Ah, pray do not tease me so, I beg.”

“Hmm, I will try but the urge to make a dirty joke about begging is strong.”

G’raha groans and buries his face in his hands, embarrassed but not truly upset as far as Hallima can tell.

“Seriously though, G’raha.” Hallima leans forward. “I’m not blind, and even Y’shtola can see it. You’re one of the most stubbornly determined people I have ever met and that’s saying something, and yet…”

“What do you…?” G’raha lifts his head to look up at Hallima, confused. Hallima leans down until their noses are nearly touching.

“I know what you want.” He whispers. “Consider this your invitation to take it.”

G’raha stares wide-eyed up at Hallima, frozen.

“I- you-“

“Have I misread?” Hallima tilts his head just slightly, taking care not to accidentally catch G’raha with the tips of his horns with the movement. G’raha swallows audibly.

“No.” He finally finds his voice. “No, you have not. Forgive me, I did not expect…”

“Reciprocation?”

“Yes.”

“That’s my own fault, probably.” Hallima leans back again, sensing they will have to do some serious talking before getting anywhere. Fair enough. “In the First I wasn’t really… In the right mindset for that, and then the whole star was set to be wiped out and. Well. Needless to say I only just managed to spare Aymeric a visit last week, there just hasn’t been time.” And even in the brief moments there technically had been, such matters had been by necessity pushed far from the forefront of his mind.

“Speaking of Aymeric, are not you and he…?” G’raha fiddles with the bracers on his arms nervously. Hallima tilts his head again.

“You don’t know? I figured it would be common knowledge by now. To make a boring contract short and sweet, yes he knows and we are both free to bed and court who we will. Which is something you would have to be okay with.”

Hallima takes a sip of their rapidly cooling hot cocoa as he waits for G’raha to finish processing what he is being offered. It can be a lot to take in at once, he knows, but thankfully Hallima is nothing if not patient.

“You- Really?” G’raha seems to still be struggling.

“Am I really in an open relationship that you would have to be okay with being a part of if you and I were to court? Yes. Am I really open to the idea of courting you? Also Yes. Enthusiastically.”

G’raha laughs a little then, a surprised sort of sound.

“Forgive me, my friend, I have made a poor showing of myself and been nothing but tongue-tied. But if you truly do mean it-“

“And I do.”

“-Then I would accept.”

Hallima grins so hard his cheeks hurt.

“May I kiss you?”

“Please.”

-

Bonus:

“Ameliance have I mentioned lately that if you had even an shred of masculinity to you I would climb you like a tree?”

“T’would be a short climb for someone of your height, I’m afraid.” A laugh.

“Seriously though are you sure I can’t talk you into-“

“I am afraid not. Fourchenault may have his faults, but I do love him.”

“Okay but I have this mi’quote friend who would jump at the chance to court you properly. I’m just saying.”

“I shall take it under advisement.”

[mmorpg-escapism]

Oh god I'm not ready for this next set of scenes T_T I know exactly what's coming and I am NOT ready. Here's another Big Post with a cut in it :)

...wait, Vauthry's still talking. He's not quite dead yet, so we get to endure a minute or two of him ranting before he finally croaks and we absorb all that Light... The WoL is gonna burst soon. But we brought night back to Kholusia! Woo!

And now for an Echo. Vauthry's origin story! To make a long cutscene short, his father was Eulmore's former mayor, ousted, and Emet-Selch plays on his desire for power to get him to do a terrible, terrible thing to his unborn child: merge it with a Lightwarden.

Whoops we're out of the vision and Not Handling the light very well. Urianger's plan is... to do nothing. Hello, Exarch. ...how did you get here so fast? Oh, and it's not nighttime anymore, the Light's back.

God the voice acting is so good. I've said this a lot, but like. You can hear the Exarch's *acting* through it. He hates how much this whole plan has hurt the WoL, and through gritted teeth he is playing the villain to make his own intentional sacrifice more palatable to everyone present. Not that everyone is buying it.

And now the charade is over, and of course it's Y'shtola who sees through it. Urianger comes clean by way of not denying any of it, and I'll be honest the spike of crystal growth moving up the Exarch's face looks an awful lot like a streak of tears right now.

The hood comes off, and behold! G'raha, but old! This is the point where, if you're paying close enough attention, you'd realize his acting waaaaay back at the beginning of ShB was top tier. Not that, I think, the WoL would necessarily believe it for the whole time. Not after the little 1-on-1 we had before the Talos grabbed Mt. Gulg.

We can choose to call him by his name, or stay silent. I always choose to say his name - if someone's going to even try to sacrifice themselves for us like that, it seems really cruel to not acknowledge them for it.

...who gave Emet a gun? Dammit. G'raha is down, and the plan has failed. Emet is disappointed in the WoL for not living up to his expectations and containing the Light, but he forgets that we're not doing this alone. Ryne helps keep it under control long enough for us to... well, to go beat him up. Especially after he steals G'raha away from us >:(

I love and hate the WoL POV during this scene, all whited out and blurry. It's fitting from a character and narrative standpoint, but damn if it doesn't feel like a flashbang even against the already-bright surroundings.

I think Emet-Selch has severely underestimated how much faith the Scions and WoL have in each other. They'll all fight tooth and nail to save each other and everyone else, and this time is no different.

We're waking up back in our room in the Crystarium, like it was all a bad dream... until we look outside to see a world engulfed in Light again. Ardbert fills the WoL in on everything that happened between passing out and waking up and it's... not great. But everyone is still trying to save the WoL, even Ardbert in his own way.

I knew we'd have an entire zone left at the end, but even now on my third time through this expansion I still hoped it would end some other way. That we could do it without needing any heroic self-sacrifices. But no, that's not the point. We succeeded the way we have so far because we had help, not because we did it alone.

[morocosmos]

FFxivWrite2023 Day 8: Shed (Some Light)

Masterlist Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Characters/Pairings: Original Female Character(s), eventual OCxOC (F/F), Sanson Smyth, Guydelot Thildonnet, Sanson/Guydelot Rating: Teen & Up (may change) Additional Notes: Deipo is the younger sister of my WoL, Moro'a, and his only surviving family. You can read about how they were unhappily reunited here.

“I apologise for asking once again, my friend. If there is anything. Anything at all.”

“I…I know as little as you do about what she’s been through.” Silence. As he held the linkpearl to his ear Sanson wondered, again, what could’ve happened to have distanced the two siblings so far. The empire, of course. A conqueror’s war that had split families, stripped nations of autonomy and history. But there was more to this, he sensed, something that prevented the reunion Moro’a would have had with his sister otherwise.

He needed information. But of what kind? He must narrow down that which would help them help Deipo. Some way she might warm to them, or even just begin to thaw. Sanson thought of Guydelot, sitting next to strangers in the tavern, seeking that which made people breathe and sing and laugh…

“What did Deipo enjoy most when you were children?” Sanson asked, his voice somewhere between professionalism and a friend’s consideration. “Something that I or Guydelot might share common ground with.” Yes, common ground was what they needed. A means to begin understanding one another.

“Music.” Moro’a answered quietly, his voice weighed down by the years of the past. “She loved to dance and to sing more than anything. She was the one who took to our mother’s teaching the most. If anything of our old life were still with her, it would be that.”

It was so simple, so convenient, it struck Sanson as too good to be true. Was this the reason Moro’a had turned to them in the first place? Sanson thought to ask, but he was interrupted as Moro’a spoke again, his voice harder to hear across the line.

“Let me know if that helps.” Moro’a hung up before Sanson could respond with so much as a “wait”, and the hyur groaned. Running from family…ran in the family, so it seemed.

[faelune-home]

FFXIVWrite 2023 #10 - Workload (self-chosen)

(A/n: my first original self-chosen prompt for this year's writing, because I certainly want to set up Yuri's inclusion in my writing and Fhara's story, cos I've changed how Yuri's lore goes now, but I didn't want to keep waiting for the right prompt to start me off. So a catch up day felt like the best chance for it with selecting my own prompt word.

Yuri's father reaching out to get her help, not only a support network in the Students, but also just a chance to get her access to a good education - as strong as his own independant teachings and Yuri's self study have been - and a way to travel the world. Maybe she'll stay in Sharlayan with desk work, maybe she'll gain the WoL as a mentor and join the Scions on their travels? Who knows yet aha.

Set post-Endwalker!

Word count: 2134)

Work was piling up on the desks of the Students, and no amount of late night work between the two of them had lessened the piles. And unfortunately for them, they had more coming in every day.

“I’m beginning to fear we won’t see the end of it all in our own lifetime,” G’raha mumbled, head settled into the table.

“As extreme as it sounds, I find myself agreeing with the sentiment,” Krile sighed, placing a sheaf of papers onto the desk marked for finished work - it was considerably more barren compared to the rest of the tables in the room.

“We’ll have more coming in shortly, delivered by someone who's apparently working with Professor Lalabi on some matter. Thankfully, she also said he’d be happy to help us get through some of this so long as he’s here,” she added, the relief already evident in her voice.

“Someone?” His ears perked up, sitting straight in his chair once more to face her.

“I’m afraid I don’t know much about him, but supposedly he’s an independent scholar from Hingashi. Lalabi heard he was quite knowledgeable in several fields, particularly her own, and invited him to assist her,” Krile explained. G’raha’s ears flicked again as he pondered over her words. Then they swiveled to the door and he got to his feet, the first warning before a knock properly announced a new arrival. Ojika opened the door at Krile’s call, joined by an auri man behind him.

“Lalabi’s assistant has arrived,” he announced, stepping aside to allow the raen to enter the room. With thanks from Krile, Ojika bowed and left them to return to his desk. 

“Greetings, ser, tis lovely to meet you. And a great relief that you’ll be helping us today as well. As you can no doubt see, our previous duties with helping Eorzea’s Scions have let the work pile up to some…difficult levels,” Krile said, somewhat sheepish as she gestured around the room. Their new guest followed her gaze, nodding at the scene.

“Indeed, the professor did say you needed some extra hands with your work. She almost regretted asking you to take on more,” he said, taking a pile of envelopes tucked under his arm and handing it to Krile. She had to bite back another sigh at more work, instead giving him a generous smile.

“Oh, she shouldn’t fuss about it. The work has to be done, it’s just unfortunate we don’t have the numbers to handle it all in a more timely manner. Once again, we’re grateful you could be here to cut through some of it.”

“I shall do my utmost to ease the burden then. Daichi Sakuraba, before I forget,” he said, bowing in response. Both Students mirrored his action.

“A pleasure. Lalabi no doubt told you, but I am Krile, and this is G’raha. May today be a productive one for us all.”

The trio set to work, Krile setting the older scholar with some more organisational duties at one desk, while she saw to paperwork that required more writing or signatures, and G’raha busied himself with reading material needed for future scouting expeditions. All the while, they shared idle chatter, mostly geared toward Daichi and his own experience–

“I hear you’re an independent scholar? What manner of fields do you focus on?” G’raha had asked.

“Oh, truthfully its a little bit of everything. There’s much and more to learn and see on our star, I always tell myself to focus on one thing, and yet five more come and catch my eye,” he’d chuckled sheepishly, “I’m a bit more of a jack-of-all, master-of-none, to be honest.”

“Really? And yet Lalabi thought you learned enough to help her with her own field,” Krile gaped.

“Well, I suppose I could offer a unique perspective on her work that she didn’t have before. And I have been undertaking further research not only to broaden my own understanding but to help give her more information so I’m not a burden to her.”

–and his family.

“Oh a wife and daughter, back home? Do they not miss you when you’re out travelling?”

“They do, though I try to return as often as I can,” Daichi answered Krile’s query, “Especially since I try to teach my daughter much of what I learned myself whenever I’m home with her. She’s a brilliant young mind, very quick on the uptake, and I don’t just say that to be a proud father.” 

Daichi beamed, his chest puffing out with pride despite his words, “She can speak your common, and she grasped arcanima within a year, even when I had to leave her to provide my services to a nobleman in Kugane. She can’t manage an axe though, so she’s not much for taking after her mother so far.”

“Well from what you’ve said, your wife is already one of your village’s finest guards. I’m sure she can take care of herself and handle the role for a few more years to come. But certainly having someone ready to train and assist her soon would be a boon to her,” G’raha nodded.

“But indeed, your daughter sounds like quite the prodigy. Reminds me of a certain pair,” Krile chuckled.”

So lost in the conversation were they that the late night bell chime came as a surprise. Even more so when Krile looked around and found the many piles upon the tables had halved in bulk, looking more her own height than fearsome towers double her size.

“My word, time certainly does fly with good conversation,” she said, an ache suddenly spreading through her shoulders now that she was more aware of the work she’d been putting in.

“The extra assistance can’t be understated. I’m not sure how many thanks we could give you to truly express how much this means to us,” G’raha stated to Daichi, standing from his own desk and striding over to offer a hand to shake. Daichi’s grip was firm when he took it.

“As I said, I wished to do my best, and I’m more than happy that you’re both relieved at the result.”

“Dare I say I’d be more worried about what we’ll do once you’re not here,” G’raha said, turning to look at Krile. They both shared a look of resignation at what will no doubt be a build up of more work.

Daichi’s face turned thoughtful.

“Actually, I do have something I would like to ask of you. Something I feel may even help you in turn, if you accept.” Both Students tilted their heads, curious.

“Well, if its in our power to accept, though we may have limits given our status as a group right now,” Krile said carefully. Daichi nodded, understanding.

“I should hope that you can accept. Your group studies mysterious entities about our star, yes? Such as the echo?” Both were taken aback by his question.

“I…I suppose it's not a secret, but the echo is so rarely found that it’s not often people seem to know of it,” she said. G’raha was watching him carefully now.

“I didn’t myself until I arrived here and had access to your city’s reading materials. Even then, there’s only so much an outsider has access to, but that much was available. And I promise you, I don’t ask for insidious reasons. I ask for my daughter.” Eyes widened, and ears perked.

“She has it?” Krile asked.

“We didn’t have a name for it, but from what I’ve read, she may do. Her name is Yuri, and since she was young, she’s had struggles - headaches and visions, she says, around certain people. Merchants passing through claiming to have harmless goods, and she would say they instead wished us harm with poisons; she says she saw shadowy figures many years ago, though none have haunted her since. My wife and I kept it secret from others in the village lest they think she was haunted by a trickster spirit, but we’d still try to find ways to ensure the people’s safety if her visions said we were going to be met with troubles.” Krile silently pondered over his words.

“It certainly sounds like the echo after a fashion. Those shadowy figures she’s seen could be– maybe if they thought there was something worth manipulating in those villages,” she mumbled, holding back direct mention of the Ascians in front of him.

“While there’s less likely to be echo bearers awakening from here on given what’s happened there could still very easily be those that have it that awoke to it before,” G’raha mentioned, “If so, we should try to offer support if we can.”

“Indeed,” she agreed, turning to Daichi, looking hopeful after their mutterings.

“My original statement stands, I’ll certainly have to check with the right people if I could have her join our organisation, especially if any matters such as her travelling to stay here may be in order. It would certainly be the easiest route if we were to support her and offer her our help here rather than communicate with her in Hingashi,” Krile said, to which Daichi nodded briskly in understanding.

“But having said that, I do have some connections that could grant her an easy entry to the city and a quick enlistment. Of course, we would need her here to discuss things directly. Could she travel here on short notice?”

“Of course! She will be visiting here within a week’s time!” Daichi stated, suddenly on his feet, joy upon his face.

“Not that I was presumptuous about your answer, it was already arranged since it has been some time since we last met. I would’ve hoped as well that she could partake of the city's offerings for her own studies as well. But with this, I could send word for her to prepare for a longer stay perhaps?”

“That would do nicely,” Krile smiled, “And alongside her enrolment with the Students, if you and she wished, we could arrange for her to receive additional studies with a professor if she wanted. Given she seems to have taken after her father as the studious type.”

“Yes, that would be wonderful! If it can be arranged of course, I wouldn’t want to take too much from you when you’re already answering my request as it is. Even this much is all I needed.”

“Then it seems we have both fulfilled each other’s wishes,” G’raha noted.

“That we have my good ser. Then maybe no more thanks are needed between us,” Daichi smiled. He made for the door, offering another deep bow as he stepped out.

“My apologies for leaving so swiftly, but I would like to send a missive now that it may reach her as soon as possible. And I hope that next time we meet, she will be on your docks.” He marched off with speed, his footsteps quick down the hall even as the door closed on his departure.

“Well this exchange turned out quite differently than I expected,” Krile huffed, taking a seat again. Not that she could complain given the possibility offered up - another echo user from halfway across the world. The poor girl most likely struggling on her own with no idea why it was happening to her. Even outside of the chance to offer support to her, Krile’s own personal little feeling of kinship was sparked as well, even before having met Yuri.

“Certainly, though thankfully it seems to be in our favour for once,” G’raha said. Then he folded his arms, tail flicking in thought.

“Should we inform Fhara? I know you would appreciate another echo user, and definitely wish to help her, but would a more direct mentor also suit her? Maybe Fhara would also like to have a fellow to relate to? Maybe even travel with her, if Yuri wished to see the world and not just remain cooped up in an office?” he asked.

“Hmm…I do believe we should tell her, but not immediately. The first and most important step would be getting to know the girl herself and letting her settle in. Then find out what it is she wishes to do. Maybe she would be quite happy to stay here, or maybe she would prefer field work. Only after she’s comfortable should we tell Fhara and the other Scions.” G’raha nodded in agreement, before Ojika once again came to the door, reminding them to take a break for some food.

They left for the day, setting out for food and expecting to return straight to their rooms to sleep afterward, for once after many weeks of work. After all, they had less to worry about than they had for so long, they didn’t need another late night. And hopefully soon, they wouldn’t need any more late nights at all.

[blindingspark]

To Rewrite Fate

After pulling Zenos back from a certain demise within the Royal Menagerie, the warrior of light must now brace themselves for what lay ahead as the Eorzean Alliance deliberates the garlean prince's uncertain future. Rating: General Pairing: Zenos/WoL Notes: The follow-up to Command the Stars, lots of fantasy pseudo-politic talk but hey that'll happen when dealing with a now-former legatus am I right :y also some added pining from everyone's favorite Lord Commander.

The walk was quiet, if only for the Warrior of Lights racing mind preventing them from speaking, from looking over their shoulder to the beshackled crown prince trailing behind and watched by the Grand Companies' guards. The moment of truth was finally upon them, after what seemed like the longest days following the liberation of Ala Mhigo, and by the gods the caster was trembling.

As they approached the main hall, Auri was quick to notice how the leaders were still in recess, no doubt wrapping up their own smaller matters in between assembling and passing judgment,

"If you'll follow me, champion." the Adder said, giving the au ra pause as they looked over, watching as the remaining force went to lead Zenos to the small platform in the center of the room and fixing his restraints. They inhaled quietly and nodded as they followed behind the Adder.

Auri's mind continued turning as the guard escorted them to a side room with extra seating, pausing as a familiar voice called out to them, 

"Ah! I feared I may be too late before the proceedings began," the Lord Commander said as he approached, earning a bow from the Adder before they stood at attention. Aymeric offered a small dismissive wave, "It's quite alright, I was hoping to share a few words with our champion here before we returned to meetings and arrangements."

The Adder nodded, looking between the elezen and au ra before saluting the two, turning on their heel and resuming their duties. Auri watched the guard for a few moments before their attention returned to Aymeric, brows knitting together faintly as they noticed his own attention remained on the garlean prince in the larger room,

"I admit I was rather surprised upon hearing you had saved him," he began, voice softened as he looked to the mage, "Moreso of your own choice; I may not… understand why you did so, but-" 

"I-it's…" Auri sighed, looking down briefly at their fidgeting hands, as if seeking the necessary words in the seams of their gloves, "It's complicated. My reasoning, I mean." they returned their attention up to meet the elezens gaze, a slight pang in their chest at the earnest look of curiosity he gave. He nodded slightly, hands folded in front of him and waiting patiently for Auri to find their thoughts, though it was clear he had far more racing through his mind than he dared to give voice to… they could see it so plainly,

"I know I've placed myself in a precarious position; if the crown prince is placed under my watch as I had proposed it will likely just prolong an inevitable execution, given the circumstances. If… i-if he's granted a second chance otherwise, I feel as though I'll have to make a decision to leave everything behind-"

Their hands had begun to tremble as their thoughts raced with their spiraling worries, yet they only noticed as such upon feeling Aymeric gently take their hands in his own- the privacy of the room allowed for ease with such a gesture- and steadying them, prompting another pang as they breathed deeply and fought the anxious sway of their tail. The Lord Commander offered a sincere smile, one they had often seen in their private conversations in Ishgard,

"My friend, though I cannot fathom saving someone such as Zenos, I do understand the champion before me; after all you have done for the Alliance- for Ishgard alone- it would be shameful of me to deny you shelter even in such conditions," he said, holding their hands a bit more tightly and softening his voice for only the caster to hear, "Ishgard is, and always will be, your home. Never forget this." 

Auri blinked wide at the elezen, their eyes welling with relief as they nodded, squeezing his hands in turn, "Thank you, truly… I-" 

A bell chime drew both their attention back to the main room, prompting them to hesitantly let go of the others hands and resume a professional façade; Aymeric offered one more look to Auri, a slight frown of worry replacing the warm smile that was there prior, 

"I do sincerely hope you know what you're doing, my friend." he murmured, offering a bow before dismissing himself to return to the others, leaving the au ra to their thoughts once more, sighing and thinking aloud, 

"I hope so, too."

-

"Zenos yae Galvus, imperial crown prince and heir apparent to the Garlean Empire. Viceroy and Legatus for the XIIth Imperial Legion," The voice of the Sultana rang clear throughout the room, holding the attention of all present, "The atrocities committed by the XIIth cannot be stated clearly enough, as well as your hand as the leading force. Though your Legion has been faced with a formal defeat alongside your presumed death during the liberation effort, it would be remiss of me to not let the gravity of your actions go unknown to all present."

Auri was seated to the side of the Alliance and Doman leaders, hands folded in their lap as their gaze flickered between those assembled and the garlean; the man himself stood statuesque, gaze coolly remaining on Nanamo as she spoke, though he made no show of denying or fighting her words.

"For the clarity in understanding of all present, you only stand here before us as the result of the Warrior of Light preventing your demise. As such, we have weighed our options and the counsel of all, including Eorzea's champion, to decide the best path going forward." The Sultana paused, glancing to the paperwork that lay before her and giving an assured nod, looking to the crown prince,

"As agreed upon by the Eorzean Alliance and Doma, until the circumstances demand otherwise, you are to be granted a stay of execution under the condition of service to the Grand Companies for the next-"

"My blade will serve no one," Zenos spoke suddenly, hoarse as he was, prompting the assembled leaders to give pause and wide exchanged glances between those gathered; Auri stiffened as the garlean's attention turned and settled on them briefly, "None, save for your champion."

Their mouth pressed to a firm line, glancing sheepishly to the leaders and noting the array of expressions from shock to curiosity to anger… the au ra's legs feeling a sudden urge to run and evade the confused looks. Auri adjusted in their seat and crossed one leg over the other, at least attempting to steady themselves as they looked directly to Zenos, then to Nanamo, watching her turn to quietly discuss between the murmurings of the other leaders before addressing him once again,

"May I inquire as to your reasoning? Seldom few make such bold proclamations even when they stand before those passing judgment."

The prince's head tilted slightly, feigning a look of thoughtfulness before he spoke again,

"I was content to let my tale end in that old menagerie, however your champion decided otherwise," he paused, a familiar, cold and humorless smile formed on his lips as he looked to the Alliance leaders, "My life is now in their hands; a prize of sorts for besting me during our last duel. I care naught whether I fall upon the battlefield or by the chosen blade of those gathered here, but I shall not fall idly until your champion finds my usefulness forfeit."

Auri exhaled slowly as they listened, quietly wringing the hem of their garb to the point they swore holes would be torn through; heart aching as they listened. His mask had slipped into place with ease before the gathered leaders- that much was plain for them to see- yet they understood the position they had placed both garlean and themselves in.

Taking another deep breath, they looked to the Alliance and winced as they were met with the Lord Commander's gaze from across the room, the look upon the elezen's face was one of confusion and his concern repeated: I hope you know what you're doing.

Nanamo eyed the garlean, unreadable as he tended to make himself, and listened as the leaders on either side of her leaned over to mutter their thoughts. The Sultana exhaled and straightened herself, hands folded neatly atop one another and resting on the table, 

"I see. The Eorzean Alliance shall… tentatively allow this amendment, and we shall reconvene in six moons time. Whereupon we shall determine the best path going forward," her gaze steeled as she lifted her chin, "However, should harm come to Eorzea's champion by your hand, such an agreement shall be made null and you shall be put to the blade."

A quiet settled within the room, with all exchanging nods of acknowledgement before finally being dismissed; Auritel attempted to ease their shoulders as the others stood from their seats and the judgement- for now- as adjourned. Their gaze landing on Zenos as he was led out from the room, their mind turning as they thought of the path now laid before them… 

-

The small bedchamber held a tense, uncertain and quiet air as Auri settled themselves in one corner of the room, their gaze fixed on the small stack of documents that had been passed to them the day following the meeting; arrangements and an alias for Zenos to take on once they finally set out into the world again.

"And what is it that troubles you?" The now-former prince inquired from the opposite end of the room, watching the au ra flinch and look up from their reading,

"Hm? I…" their voiced trailed off, looking down at the papers and flipping through them once more, "There are so many decisions needing to be made, but I wouldn't say I'm troubled…"

"Your tail betrays you, then." Zenos replied simply, a smirk upon his lips as he said so and prompting Auri to stiffen, looking down and noticing just how their tail had curled tightly around them,

"I- perhaps. This is far beyond my usual line of work, is all." They then huffed, setting the documents aside save for one and standing from their seat, making their way across the room and slowing as they stood before him with paper in hand, 

"Perhaps it would be prudent to at least get your thoughts on some of these documents." Auri murmured, glancing up briefly before handing the parchment to Zenos and settling down beside him, eyeing the new alias and watching for any tells from him.

Zenos' head tilted faintly, silently skimming over the page before briefly giving a sidelong look to the au ra in return,

"A nameless sellsword hailing from Quarrymill, a wayward son of Elezen and Roegadyn descent…" he handed the document back, "I suppose it is serviceable for what we need."

Their gaze drifted across the page once more as they held it, idly leaning against their companion and hardly noticing just how intently they had stared at the document until Zenos shifted, reaching around to rest his palm on the small of their back. Auri's eyes closed, uttering a small sigh as they ran their thumb along the edge of the page, 

"Earlier… w-when you said your life was in my hands because I saved you," they mumbled, shaking their head as the words struggled to form, "I… I don't want you to view me as another voice telling you what to do. You…" they sighed, leaning further and resting their head on his chest as a subconscious comfort, "You have a voice… all I did was bring you back from the brink, all because I couldn't bear the thought o-of…"

The au ra chewed on their lip, their thoughts racing again as they tried to give voice to their reasons. They flinched as a steady pressure rested atop their head, staring over the paper in hand to fixated on the blankets and pillows that covered the surface they sat upon, turning slightly and stilling as they registered Zenos having rested his chin atop their head,

"Zenos…?" they quietly asked, hearing a faint grunt even as he remained otherwise still,

"It became clear you asked no such thing of me long ago, my friend," he uttered, the tone of his voice was… unfamiliar, even to Auri, "I only said as such knowing the company of the Alliance. 'Tis plain they view you no differently than my own father viewed me, I simply obliged in what they would wish to hear."

Auri grimaced, shaking their head faintly, "At first, perhaps, but not all of them…" they sighed, "I suppose this song and dance must continue regardless."

"Mmh."

They remained nestled against the other for a long while, with Auri nearly claimed by exhaustion until the garlean adjusted once more, preventing them from simply falling over and watching as they rubbed the tiredness from their eyes,

"We… we'll make ready to take our leave, once you're fully healed." They nodded after standing again, feeling the way his hand lingered before letting it rest in his lap once more, 

"Then let us hope it is swift."

"Aye…" a moment of hesitation passed before Auri faced him fully once again, reaching out and resting their hand upon his cheek, feeling the flutter in their chest as he leaned into her touch and offering a small smile to him, "Let us hope, indeed."

[1shepherd7wanderers]

Day 10: bonus - somber

Thanks to @wol-cae-ash for giving me a word for day 10! Please enjoy this story of our most somber yet softest boi <3

Odinvel walked through the door to the Rising Stones. His somber gaze was set straight on the Solar. Hohoka, who convinced him to come at all, ran to keep up with his driven pace. If he could help others from telling them about his past, he would, but the faster he could get this over with the better.

Odinvel pushed the doors open. There awaited the Sharlayan Scions, the ones Hohoka said he would be talking with.

"Please come in," Minfillia smiled at him, "We thank you for agreeing to share your story with us Odinvel."

"Please don't thank me. I just wish to help stop this."

Thancred nodded, "Then the floor is all yours."

Odinvel took a deep breath and began his life story. How he was raised as Odin, who his village deitified and worshipped. And he would destroy everyone who kept them down; making a home above the surface for the village. He told of the day a white robed man donning a strange red mask appeared suddenly before the elders. The conversation he was forced to attend: the masked stranger would preform a ceremony to allow Odinvel to harness the power of Odin with crystals and prayer.

The elders then walked out, entrusting Odinvel to this stranger. How they could have trusted a man so suspicious he did not know. But then the room glowed orange with fire from the cave roof. The masked man bade him look up. As his gaze went upwards, he saw meteors raining from the sky. His heart ached as he longed to hold someone. Someone who he did not know. And then the voice came: Hear, Feel, Think.

When he awoke, he was back in his room and his mother, or the closest thing he had, packed his belongings and begged him to leave. She wouldn't tell him why, but he could tell the elders would be moving soon. So he ran.

"That is my story. Why I fight primals." The room was silent and the air thick and sober as they took in what Odinvel shared.

[ohorishan]

for the first time, the night

(~500 words, WoL/Urianger almost, early ShB)

-

It was Urianger who suggested we move on from Il Mheg as soon as possible, and yet- after we've collected our effects, I find him atop one of the faerie hills, sitting among the flowers, gazing upwards at the new night sky. I've never seen him look so… reverent? Awed? And I've never seen him sitting on the ground. 

"So," I say, "is it everything you imagined?"

"'Tis beyond imagining," he replies, not turning so much as his head. "To study the heavens, absent of their sight, to learn each unfamiliar star and sign, the geometry that yet connecteth them, and only then to see… 'twas for this," he says-  and at last he turns his gaze toward me- "for thee, I have long waited."

I feel my breath catch. "How did you know?" I hear myself say. "Defeating the Lightwarden, restoring the night, all of this… how were you so certain I could do it?"

"Save that thou hadst achieved it once already?" Urianger smiles- fond, indulgent, gentle. "Thou seest not thyself. These several years, though I saw not the stars, I yet believed they shone- to think aught else would be defeat. And so I knew… and so do I know thee."

"Urianger, I-" I can't think what to say. He's so close- we haven't been this close since, well- at any rate his face and mine are of a level, and his golden eyes look into mine as if he's seeing a second sky. I could take one small step and-

He leans forward to close the slight space between us-

-and I step back.

"Forgive me," he says immediately, "I overstep-"

"No, it isn't that," I interrupt, before he can keep apologizing. But I can't bring myself to say the rest.

And he doesn't press. He just watches me, and waits, and all at once a dam within me breaks.

"I'm afraid," I admit. "I hurt you once already. After Moenbryda-"

"Nay, blame not thyself," he says. "'Tis true I was heart-struck, but not by thee. 'Twas simply…not the time."

"And now it is?"

"That is for thee to say." 

Urianger reaches for my hand, and I let him take it, his long fingers with their golden rings folding gently around mine.

"I have waited ere now," he says, "and 'tis a practice most familiar. 'Tis no burden, then, to wait a while longer." And he gives me that smile again, soft and fond, and Twelve help me, I want to see that smile again and again.

He knows exactly how I feel about him. I hear the voice as if it's here, next to us among the flowers. And he knows that whenever he needs me, for whatever reason, I’ll be there.

"I'll tell you," I say, just as soft. "When I'm ready. I promise." 

"I can ask no more." He raises my hand, gently, and brushes the slightest touch of lips there. This time I don't pull back. I feel just as breathless as if he'd kissed me full on the mouth.

"Hey," we both hear Alisaie call from the road, "what are you two doing up there? I thought we were going!"

"And so we should be," Urianger says. He unfolds himself from the ground, a few stray petals falling from his robes.

"Will you tell me about the stars," I say, "on the road?"

He holds his hand down for mine, and smiles, and I hope I never get used to seeing it. "'Twould be my pleasure."