#very late to the party but oh well | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

housedeaubemarle · 4 months

Text

By Way of an Apology: Part 4

A follow up to The Grand Hunt - the Losstarot lords and the Aubemarle twins go on a picnic.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

(Written with @escherstrange-ffxiv who probably wasn't anticipating a day trip to turn into a 2D1N thing, but here we are!)

~*~

A night full of cricket songs and frog croaks passes peacefully. Dawn brings equally strange sounds Oudine hasn't even thought of in years: birds. They twitter and trill, greeting the sun as it glides above the horizon. It is enough to rouse the sleeping Elezen, hazily wondering where she is and what is all the noise about and this doesn't feel right. Why doesn't it feel like her bedroom?

She blinks, as memories and senses come back to her slowly. She's in the Shroud, in Fallgourd Float, in the Bobbing Cork. Her cousins are in another room. Her brother…

Oudine sighs. He didn't knock last night - it would have been easy enough to ask where her room was - and she wonders if that's a good or bad sign this time. She turns her head to look at the curtained window; the pale light of early morning peeps through. Soon it will be time to go.

Soon though, not just yet. She takes her time to get out of bed, wash up and dress in a new linen shirt under yesterday's outer garb. She brushes her dark brown hair, now flowing loose, pondering if she could ever match Eddy's skill. It takes but an instant to decide she could never. So she gathers her hair into a simple, loose braid and ties the lace ribbon at the end. It will have to do.

Stepping out of her room quietly, Oudine finds a passing employee to discreetly ask where the privy might be. After that needful visit, she wanders downstairs to the main hall. None of her party is to be found.

It is still rather early, she decides. So she strolls outside, and is instantly charmed by the fresh scent and air of forestry. It is vastly different from the frosty breezes of home, and yet – strangely – familiarly comforting in a way she cannot place. She stands by a railing, filling her lungs with the balmy air of the Shroud, marvelling at its quality. Birdsong floats above her, completing the atmosphere.

So taken is she by this new experience that it takes the sounds of footsteps and conversations of a passing group of adventurers to jolt her. The mild concern for her brother returns. Perhaps he'd gone to their cousins’ room after all.

Oudine reenters the inn, and inquires at the counter. Luckily the staff remember the sole woman within the group of Elezens which had irritated, then cajoled their cook into special dishes. So it isn't long before she stands before the Losstarots’ room door and knocks twice.

“Is anyone awake?” she asks, trying to modulate her voice so she doesn't disturb guests in the other rooms.

~*~

Men sleep deeply; birds, less so.

Wil squeezes his eyes tightly to tune out the knocking, but the Losstarots only possess mortal stamina and are still sleeping soundly. He yawns loudly, swinging his legs over the bed, careful not to wake up his love, and shuffles to the door clad in only a pair of breeches to cover his modesty.

For all his foibles, William Corvus is a human and a crow. Not one or the other, but both. So while it is mean-spirited to call Wil a bird brain, it is simply a word that describes him best when he forgets to glam over his wings and opens the door to greet Oudine.

Wil yawns, smooths his hair down and smiles. "Ah, Miss Oudine! How kind of you to visit, neither one is awake yet - at least it looks like they aren't. Or- oh! You're looking for Remont, yes? I don't think he came back, I would've heard it."

Throughout his rambling a large pair of feathery black wings flaps oh-so-slightly behind him.

“Go- what are you doing!”

It is likely due to Oudine's upbringing that the first shriek of surprise is because of an almost naked Wil opening the door. She may have had a brother running round the Aubemarle manor for half her life but that is Remont. Remont in just breeches is a very different case from this.

This is…

Wait. Wait. This is-

A blush fast-spreading across her face, Oudine's eyes widen as they look upwards, beyond Wil's ears, right to the large, unmistakable and what looks like very real, honest to goodness, wings.

This is a dream. I'm still in bed, supplies her mind, in an attempt to control the alarm coursing through her entire body.

Then the black feathers rustle, just like those on her Chocobo, and the ones at Marlstone.

‘...particularly proud of the time I swooped into the water and reaching out just at the right time…’

‘Izzy saved my life so I simply go where he goes.’

‘Hi, I'm Wil.’

“You're the crow-?!”

That second shriek escapes her instinctively. She claps her hand over her mouth, staring in shock for one more second.

There may well have been plenty of people who would have handled this turn of events with aplomb.

Oudine is not among them. She turns and runs.

~*~

Joshua wakes at the first scream. He blinks the sleep from his eyes to be greeted with an eyeful of black wings.

That wakes him immediately.

He practically leaps from the bed, reaching the door under three large strides and slamming the door shut. "Wil, your wings!"

"I'm the cr- oh Joshua, Oudine here is looking for- hm? What about my wings?" He turns his head to the point on his back that Joshua is frantically pointing at. "...oh. Oh no." He shakes Isillud up. "Izzy, Izzy! You gotta wake up! We got an emergency!"

"Oudine saw Wil's wings, Izzy!"

Now Isillud cannot ignore the onslaught on both his ears, turning around and getting an eyeful of bare chests and wings. His eyes widen some more.

"I'm so sorry Izzy, I wasn't careful, I was sleepy and-"

"Never mind that!" He rummages through the heap of clothes looking for his to wear. "Wil, make sure Oudine doesn't leave the Bobbing Cork until either Joshua or I catch up to her!"

Wil salutes, "On it!" and then jogs to the open window, getting ready to jump.

Joshua flings a shirt at him, which Wil deftly catches before falling out backwards, leaving a trail of falling feathers. "Oi, at least get dressed!" Amidst a flurry of rustling fabric and blame ("I told you this would happen sooner or later!") The boys get dressed and halfway presentable before rushing out and going separate ways: Joshua towards the dining room, Isillud to the entrance.

Wil gets a bird's eye view of the compound; seeing no one running about he figures everyone has to leave by the entrance, and the crow lands right in front: feet apart, beady black eyes scanning passersby for her.

He is far swifter than Oudine’s clumsier, highborn legs. She’s only halfway thudding down the stairs when she hears the rush of air, a burst of movement and looks up to see a dark bird standing at the entrance with an intention to… she’s not entirely sure, but he looks ready to do something.

Panic - blind, irrational panic - sends her fleeing back up the stairs. Her braid comes loose, the lace ribbon fluttering away behind her. The only thing she can think of now is her room. She speeds towards it, slams the door shut, locks it, and slides down it on the inside, breathing heavily.

What sort of magic is this?? What magic turns a man into a bird? Or a bird into a man!?

As soon as the question hits her, there is a very brief moment of terrible doubt. Then she shakes her head frantically. No, no. For any number of reasons, despite all this weirdness, they are not. They have never been; they were absolved, and thus cannot be. Crows are not dragons.

And he'd sung for the crowd. He'd been puzzlingly captivating. He loves Izzy. Izzy wouldn't let anything happen. Joshua wouldn't let anything happen.

The slow beat of convictions, one after another going round in a circle, arrests the panic. Oudine’s breathing begins to slow, though she remains sitting on the floor against her door, dazed.

~*~

Oudine U-turns to her room faster than Wil can catch her. To other people it looks like a crow chasing down an elezen woman, chastising her for an offence. Wil doesn't make it to her room, so he stands outside it, cawing softly as if politely asking her to come out, he won't hurt her, he swears.

Isillud brakes on his heels when he hears cawing, slowly tracing his steps until he sees Wil in front of a door. He picks up the crow to meet his eyes and speaks to it. "She's here?"

"Caw!"

Wil hops to her shoulder; Isillud takes a deep breath and knocks gently. Once, twice. "Oudine, it's me, Izzy. I apologise for startling you, but we need to talk." A pause. "...When you're comfortable to do so."

The knocks make her start - she's been so preoccupied in her own head, she hasn't heard Wil's cawing. Izzy's soft voice reminds her it is not done to make someone stand outside a locked door to have a conversation. And there is absolutely a need for conversation.

She hesitates, then says, “Give me… give me a minute.”

Oudine slowly gets to her feet; her long hair falls around her, which can only be yet another sign she's lost all control over herself. She stares at the door - as if it can tell her what to do - takes in a breath, then opens it very tentatively. There is an involuntary step back when she sees the bird on Izzy's shoulder.

‘Be controlled. If you do not watch yourself, you will not learn to watch for others.’

She breathes in. The words her father had given her once become an anchor.

“Come… come in.”

Isillud knows it is rude to stare, especially when a lady's hair is unkempt. Perhaps not the most subtle but he says it only for her ears, "...The current trend for Gridanian women is a single high ponytail, tied at the back."

Just then someone climbs the stairs heavily - it is Joshua, still looking around for his next destination to search. Isillud saves him the trouble by waving him over then pressing a finger to his lips. Discretion is vital to a distressed woman.

"Did you find her- oh."

While she did invite him in, he waits at the threshold for her to prepare herself.

The bewildered fear that has been thrumming through her for at least ten minutes immediately slams itself into confusion. Then she realises what he means.

The confusion twists into exasperation. Of all times to be told what to do with her hair. A man she had assumed was her cousin's paramour is also his pet bird, morphing at apparent will - and she's being told what the fashionable hairstyle is in this part of the world.

“Thank you, but I seem to have lost my ribbon anyway,” she says, a little stiffly. Though she does gather her hair and smooths it down behind her ears so she doesn't look a complete fright.

She spies Joshua behind; the exasperation dissipates, becoming hesitation again. “Come inside. Anyone could have heard me.” She walks further in without waiting, seating herself on a chair. She doesn't cross her arms, but holds herself in a sort of loose hug.

Her grey eyes hold a storm of emotions, but for the most part, it is apprehension and confusion.

"Would you like Wil to…to find your ribbon..." The bird waits for an answer.

Joshua looks at his brother with no small amount of incredulity but says nothing. Oudine looks stressed enough.

Her inner resources have never known a more trying time, not even in the face of other nobles who are entirely more arrogant, self-serving and infinitely ruder than Izzy currently is being. No lesson in etiquette or protocol or even a meeting in the House of Lords is the match of Isillud Losstarot. Would even her mother know what to do or say at this time?

She stares at him in disbelief for a minute.

“I…” The consternation collapses as she drops her face in her hand in defeat. “Yes. Please. And while he does, please tell me what's going on.”

Isillud speaks very softly to his crow, "...trace…entrance…" and off it flies.

Joshua looks between them, decides this is something his brother should speak privately about, and leaves with a soft click of the door. "I'll wait outside in case Remont returns."

Meanwhile Isillud racks his brain the entire time. How does he start? Where does he even start? With Joshua out of earshot he is free to tell the whole story if he so chooses, but is it even wise to?

Eventually he settles on answering her question. Just the facts, she doesn't need to know everything else that lead to this. He sits at the edge of her bed, clasping and unclasping his hands.

"Wil is half-crow fae, which means he can switch between forms when he wishes. I discovered his true name after a series of incidents, which bonded him to me." Silvery-white hair in need of a haircut falls over his face as he looks at the floor. "Wil doesn't lie and he meant no harm with his actions, but he can be a little…" Pause. "...flighty."

Isillud looks back up at her. "...I'm sorry you had to find out this way." He does seem to regret the incident, at least on his face.

She had looked up when Izzy began his explanation in his soft-spoken way. Her fingers are curled against her mouth, while she leans on her knees, listening.

Half-crow… fae. A faerie. He said he comes from a kingdom, long lost.

Everything about his words to his demeanour to his outfit clicks into place; it relieves her to find a measure of familiar territory. For in her childhood, there had been plenty of such tales, bound between whimsical covers. Fae folk, who were tricksy, playful, whose names were so important they were a means of control. To know a faerie's real name is to have their life in your hand.

Stories for children… come true.

Oudine gazes at the regret written across his face and in his emerald green eyes. She looks at the way his hands move nervously.

A great secret this must have been. Not something to tell a relative whom one had only been acquainted with for just a few months. What good would it have done for her to know anyway? Look at her reaction when she did find out (though to be quite fair, it had been two shocks in a row, not just one). Perhaps he would never have spoken of it if Wil hadn't opened the door - and that would have been a wise thing to do. But she knows now.

There have never been so many surprises in her life before the appearance of the Losstarots. And since her father's sudden death, surprises have left a bitter taste in her mouth, though a part of her admits it doesn't really justify the screeching and running.

“...will whatever led you to him reoccur? Are you and he safe?” She asks at last, remembering old legends of two fae courts at war with each other since memory began. “He said… something about a Garlean.”

His brows furrow ever so slightly, staring at a point just above the tip of her ear. His mind flips through past events - of Gnaeus mal Ennius and his plotting that literally undid him, of a broken staff in splinters becoming one with the earth, and of holding Wil, watching and hoping he did not walk into the light.

Part of him scoffs at Oudine's question - what would she do if he said no? What can House Aubemarle, who could not protect their servants from a common thug, do against a mad Garlean and fae magicks? But he stops that thought in its tracks. Time has taught him of unlikely allies at unlikely times; House Aubemarle is one.

A soft smile curls the corner of his lips. He shakes his head. "No, it will not. It's over. We are safe."

Joshua knocks once before opening the door just enough for his voice to be heard, "Wil has your ribbon, Oudine."

“Thank you, Joshua. Please come in… both of you.”

Oudine looks down at the floor, thoughts settling at last. They are safe in this regard. She needn't fear magic from this avenue. There is now space for the implications of her undignified behaviour to present themselves in full.

Faeries, she does not know; manners she does. And hers have been bad manners indeed.

“...may I be frank?” she says softly, though the shame in her voice is clear. “I asked, to know if I should fear for you. For me. For my house. So if you say all is done, then all is done. I will pry no further.

“I know not what else to add, but that I'm sorry for behaving the way I did. I am no adventurer. I have never really left my home, and the few times I did, I travelled in the protection of my family, my brother, and now you. It is a spoiled existence I lead. Of things beyond Ishgard, I read, and listen, and imagine – but clearly my imagination is limited.

“There is much I don't know, but my ignorance doesn't justify reacting so poorly to someone who has done me no harm.” She looks back up at Izzy, the tone now more sober but still softly spoken.

“You have my silence. I doubt anyone would believe me even if I wanted to tell them. Except maybe Remont. But I will not speak of this even to him if you say so.”

Isillud Losstarot is awash with shame: in a single confession she lays bare her concerns for her house. She will prevail, he is certain. Discretion and honour always wins, and so she will.

"You have nothing to apologise for. Anyone would be shocked in your situation." A brief thought amuses him, "As eccentric as adventurers are, we do not have wings. Even Wil's would prompt a few to attack him." He continues. "It's not that I mind telling Remont, but I think he has figured some of it out on his own. Your telling him will simply confirm his suspicions."

He bites his lower lip. "I once put Wil in danger because I did not realise the value of his name. Your assurance is more thought than I put in back then." He bows from his seat. "Thank you."

There is much grace and gentleness in the way Izzy offers his reassurances and his thanks. It warms Oudine within, and she finally smiles.

“You're very kind, you know. All of my household calls you that.”

Isillud can only smile at her comment. Perhaps he only pays forward the kindness he was showed, who can say?

The Wil that enters could be mistaken for a sheepish country bumpkin of an elezen; he peers in, taking a slow step at a time, ribbon loosely entwined between his fingers. "Sorry for scaring you, Oudine. It was an accident, I really don't show my wings in this form."

She turns to the door as Wil comes in, and the smile grows. Now that she isn't so blindsided, she can picture Izzy's crow in the sheepish way he moves, in his stance. And the charm from yesterday still exists even in his hesitance; she imagines it would be quite hard to remain angry at him. Startled, and bemused perhaps, but not angry.

She stretches out her hand towards him, palm upwards in an inviting way. “I'm sorry to you as well. You didn't deserve me screaming at you like that. Thank you for finding my ribbon.”

Wil bows gallantly, presenting the ribbon to Oudine like a trophy. "Don't worry, getting yelled at like that is no big deal - why, when I was under mal Ennius he-" A gentle tug from Isillud prompts him to stop. "-anyway I've had worse. No worries." Wil waves it off with a beaming smile. If he were a crow he would have gently head butted her by now.

~*~

Outside, Joshua leans against the door frame, waiting for Remont, though not for much longer as light footsteps resound across the wooden floor. From round the corner, the tall figure of Oudine’s erstwhile twin emerges.

Wherever he’s been doesn’t seem to have affected his cheery nature since he looks as fresh as he did the previous morning. At least his face does; his clothes are certainly not as crisp and neat as they had been, with the waistcoat hanging loose and one button of his linen shirt looser. In one hand is a bunch of bright purple flowers, wrapped in paper at the ends.

He’s surprised to see his cousin in front of the room he’d been told had been given to ‘the young lady with the grey eyes’. Still, he smiles in greeting.

“Well met, cousin. Apologies for leaving you all so suddenly last night.” He glances at the door. “I assume you’re waiting for Dine?”

Joshua un-leans from the door, straightening his own dishevelled waistcoat and shirt (their clothes had been worn in a rush after all, though for much different reasons than Remont). "No trouble done, in fact you saved us the cost of an extra room." He eyes the door and pulls it closer. "Indeed, she had some trouble with her…hair. How's your new friend, by the way?"

Remont’s smile is crooked. “Touche. They’re well enough; there were no regrets.” He does the opposite of Joshua, leaning against the wall. “Is my sister very angry that I left? She hates it when I do this. Hence…” he gestures with the flowers in his hand.

"If she is, she has done a fine job of hiding it," Joshua replies, crossing his arms and leaning back against the door frame. "I think she's doing her hair."

~*~

Wil tilts his head at her hair. "Would you like me to help you with that?"

Fist to mouth, Isillud finds the scenery outside the Bobbing Cork much more fascinating, Ixal or no.

Oudine eyes Wil with trepidation. Despite hearing Eddy’s voice in her head screaming no, she asks, tentatively, “You… you know how to dress hair?”

"Doesn't everyone?" Wil starts fluffing and spreading her hair out, looking for a brush. He parts the top of her head into a few locks and begins braiding. His fingers are surprisingly deft, weaving parts in and out and tying it together with her ribbon, then picking up her hair loosely curling it around his wrists before letting it all fall over her left shoulder. "Tada!" Wil does a little dainty clap, peering at his handiwork from a few angles.

Isillud doesn't hide his awe as though he has discovered something new about Wil. "This is rather good."

"Of course! It's all the rage in Il Mheg."

"Really?"

"Sure it is!"

The grey elezen frowns, trying to recall. "I don't remember anyone with that hair."

"We'll go back there to confirm." Wil gives his partner a thumbs-up, reaching for the doorknob. "She's ready!"

~*~

“She hides well, yes,” is Remont's reply. The sound of Wil's voice makes his head snap up instantly, all languidness gone at the realisation there's a man in his sister's room. “What-” He springs up from the wall.

The door opens just in time. Remont strides towards it and blinks. Inside is Izzy, sitting on the edge of the bed, Wil from last night beaming proudly and Oudine, standing up with an impeccable hairdo, a lock of her dark brown hair falling gracefully over her shoulder. From what he can see, it seems more intricate than usual, and flatters her face very well.

Remont blinks again. “Dine?”

Her grey eyes, which had been directed at Wil with amusement, widen at the sight of him. There's an undercurrent of relief in her voice, below the surprise. “Rem!”

Remont looks at all the occupants of the room, Joshua still outside, then back at his sister. He isn't sure what circumstances would have led to them all gathered here, but decides to leave that for later.

He steps inside. “Joshua said you were fixing your hair. It looks very nice.”

“Thank you,” she says, then smiles at Wil. “It's all Wil's cleverness. It turns out our new friend has a talent for it.”

Remont smiles at the man, and bows. “Then thank you, sir, for aiding my sister.”

He turns back to Oudine, and holds out his flowers. “These will suit you, I think.”

She can't hide her surprise at the appearance of blooms then tilts a wry look at him. “Am I supposed to forgive you now for being so rude to us last night?”

Remont has at least enough grace to look somewhat embarrassed. “Sorry, Dine. Needed to walk someone home.”

“She must live a very long way from here then,” replies his relentless sister.

He says nothing, appealing silently with what appears to be genuine remorse in his dark brown eyes.

Oudine sighs, taking the flowers from him. He'd even bothered to hunt down her favourite triteleias, so she asks, “did she at least know what you were about?”

“I promise you she did.” He smiles a little. “I'll give you the details later if you wish, Dine, but assuredly she did.”

She eyes him a minute longer then shakes her head. “I'm not the only one who should hear an apology.”

Remont looks ruefully at Izzy and Wil, and bows. “Quite right. My apologies, gentlemen; not the thing to disappear on everyone like that.”

Isillud smiles as if this isn't the first time he's seen Remont do this. "I do hope she was worth the trouble."

Wil puffs his chest like a crow would after it's completed a feat; quite similar to when he caught the fish, in fact. Seeing the flowers gives him more ideas. "Those would look beautiful in your hair like a crown, Oudine! Would you let me?"

Joshua looks at the chronometer on the wall. "I wonder what the skywatcher has to say about Ishgard today."

Remont coughs, looking at the same chronometer. “Probably snow and ice, cold as anything, the usual. Shall we get breakfast? I'm starving.”

Oudine laughs softly at Wil's enthusiasm, and his suggestion. He really is charming.

“I would be honoured. Would you lend me Wil for awhile, Izzy? Since we leave the Twelveswood today, I fancy a flower crown would be a perfect souvenir. Perhaps the gentlemen can find breakfast for us in the meantime.”

Isillud gets up and bows to Oudine. "Would you like anything in particular for breakfast?"

Wil is already weaving a crown with the flowers, getting ready to stick some in her hair if needed.

Oudine thinks for a moment, glancing at Wil.

Papa would certainly have liked you, she thinks. More so if he knew of your faerie origin.

She doesn’t know why her father comes to mind so often today, but… maybe certain surprises needn’t be so bitter. She smiles at Izzy.

“Perhaps you could surprise me, and let me learn to try something new.”

Remont looks sideways at her, even as she is smiling at their cousin. Oudine hates surprises. He casts a questioning look at Joshua.

Joshua shrugs, hooking his arm under Remont's elbow. "Let's go, I hear their buffet selection is particularly appetising this season." The brothers flank Remont as they escort him down.

The buffet at the dining hall lays out a variety of salads, with a small area for sliced meats and condiments and breads towards the end. Isillud has no problem picking out a salad he likes and a croissant or two to go with it.

"Is it strange to see Oudine behaving as such?" Joshua asks Remont.

Remont ponders the question as he looks at the spread before him, picking out slices of fragrant breads first. His answer is low-voiced.

“Change unsettles her, and makes her melancholy. You’d think the Calamity and the war would have made her at least more accepting of how change is inevitable, but not quite.” He spoons out dollops of strawberry jam, lingonberry jam and marmalade on his plate. “But she treasures people, like our late father. Change for the good of a person can be endured, even embraced.”

“Still, surprises are changes she cannot control. And that is difficult for her personally, as well as one in her position as the head of our house,” he continues, picking up slices of plain ham and those with herbs mixed into it. “I haven’t heard her say something like that since we were young.” He smiles, and there is regret in the expression. “I confess, I was one of those who taught her how to hate surprises, I think.”

He looks at Joshua, pausing in front of the salads. “I am not as steady a brother as yourself, as I’m sure you’ve figured out by now. Quite a few unpleasant surprises did Dine experience extricating me from youthful mistakes.”

He goes back to selecting lettuce leaves and cherry tomatoes so he may go to their table with a full plate. “I’m not sure what happened before I arrived, but if just one night out of Ishgard has done this,” He chuckles. “Gods only know who my sister will become if she travels further.”

"I don't believe I know the cause of your father's death, only that he did." Joshua fashions the bread and meat into a sandwich. "How did it happen to shock Oudine so badly?" He gets a little slap on his shoulder from his brother for his question. "What?" he frowns. The question surely isn't that tasteless.

"Travel changes a person, Remont. I think you know this." Isillud has started eating his salad sandwich - being the convenient man he is, he has simply stuffed his salad into his sliced croissant and eats it whole. "Do you ever imagine what sort of person you'd be if you were forced to stay in Ishgard?"

Remont grimaces at Joshua’s question, but makes himself talk after a swallow of the coffee he’d picked up beside the salads. It's a valid query, and one he asks himself each time he thinks of it. The plate he put together remains untouched on the table.

His eyes are shadowed, while he stares at nothing. “We all woke up one morning, five years ago. He didn’t.” He inhales once. “We called healers and chirurgeons; even a representative of the Temple Knights was requested. All said his heart had stopped in the night, with no sign of foul play. Beside my mother, he’d slipped away in his sleep… and that was that.”

He taps his finger on his cup absently. “We had no heart to investigate further; there were more urgent matters to attend to.” He looks up at the brothers, a small smile across his face. It has no humour in it, only sorrow. “You’ve met my mother. I wonder if you can imagine her… broken. For three years, that was all she was, while Dine and I picked up the pieces around us. I went to Tailfeather to scout for an opportunity, while she stayed as Viscount to pull on whatever string we still had, and we both put our mourning into our work. Things worked out eventually… but there were many difficult months.”

“...it would have been one thing if he were ill, or if we wielded staff or sword, and he’d died to an enemy’s blow,” he says, bending his head back to stare at the food. “But Viscount Vouloix was benevolent and beloved, and he kept his house in the same order. If his heart is what killed him, then perhaps it had just grown too large.”

He pauses for half a minute then shakes his head. “Forgive me. I know loss and grief are not strangers to you. But Dine has been the anchor of our house since his passing – not even my mother will disagree. It takes a toll on her even if she bears it well.”

Remont seems to shake himself mentally as he takes another swig of coffee. Then he looks upwards at the ceiling. “As for what I’d be if I couldn’t leave Ishgard…” He smirks sardonically, and it is strange for such a cold expression to cross his face. “Unimaginable. I’d have either turned into a fiend or ended up dead, causing my family more grief. I’m glad for the city becoming open again, whether we’re ready or not.”

He shrugs. “I certainly wasn’t when I went to Dravania. It was among the best things to happen to me.” He gives Izzy a warmer smirk, despite Joshua being right there. “Met you for one.”

The brothers listen to Remont attentively as they head to a table to wait for Oudine, eating silently until Remont finishes. Even after that they look at the table, their chewing slows to a stop.

"It must not have been easy," Isillud finally breaks the ice. "All those loose ends to tie and sort out. Your house is extremely blessed to have such a capable heir in Oudine. It is only our luck that our affairs were sorted out by the church."

"If it can be called such," Joshua mutters into his orange juice. "A reset is what it is."

"Our condolences on your loss, Remont. Full glad am I to have you and Oudine here with us now, able to relax and recreate at leisure after your hardship." He returns Remont's smile with his own, the tips of his ears sporting a dash of pink.

Joshua seems to allow this moment between them and says nothing, simply looking on while taking in the breakfast crowd in the hall.

~*~

Back in Oudine's room, Wil places the crown on her as if he crowns a queen, then slides the smaller flowers in between her braids, seemingly at random. When he is done her hair looks like a river sprinkled with freshly fallen flowers.

For her part, Oudine marvels at the transformation Wil has wrought in her appearance. Within the glass of the dressing table, her dark river of hair, with its purple star-like flowers, has never looked more enchanting. Even she has to admit to herself: she does look quite fetching.

“Thank you Wil; what a wonder you are! This is fit for a formal spring ball, not just a holiday.” Her eyes twinkle up at him. “I can only imagine what the nobility of Ishgard would pay for you to dress their hair like this for special occasions.”

"Spring ball, holidays, same thing." Wil waves it off. "There's dancing and people are happy, that's all that matters."

She beams at him with pure delight. “How proud Izzy must be of you.”

He smiles blankly at Oudine's comment. "Why…would Izzy be proud of me? It is I who should be proud of him! He's smart and beautiful - really beautiful - and he can fire an arrow at a target at fifty paces! I'm just a crow."

Oudine rises from her seat. “Not just any crow you are. A lovely crow indeed, to stay by Izzy’s side all the time, to protect him. To sing in such harmony with him, and to make him happy.” She smiles warmly. “I would be over the moon to have someone like you in my life, Wil, though I’ll admit perhaps I’d be quite confused a lot of the time.”

She pats his shoulder gently. “Well, best not keep them waiting any longer. Shall we go show them your masterpiece?”

Wil chuckles, bowing to the new princess in the room. "We fae are simpler than you think - we're bound to one who knows our true name, it's just that he happens to be my love too. If he tells me to sing or to protect or blow up a prison wall that shakes the foundations of the building I will because it's an order from him! …I shouldn't have said the last one out loud, should I?" He holds out his hand to escort her to the others.

Oudine takes his hand, after a start at the mention of blowing up walls. She smiles, just a little helplessly. “Um, perhaps not with strangers,” she says as they walk out.

~*~

Downstairs, Remont smiles gratefully at his cousins. Izzy's words ease the stifling grief that had arisen, sending it back into the deepest recesses of his chest.

“And long may it continue, o brothers Losstarot.” He raises his coffee cup in a toast to them and sips.

His seat faces the entrance of the hall, so he's among the first to spot Wil and Oudine walking in together, the former looking like a graceful gentleman escorting a lady to a ballroom. And the latter…

Remont's eyes widen a fraction, eyebrows rising. Then he grins, and gets to his feet to bow: a silent homage to the sister who had never given her looks more than perfunctory thought, now crowned as a princess of spring. Even as a brother, he'd never any doubt that Oudine was rather pretty, even if there were many more who outshone her looks.

But just for today, for this morning, her bright eyes and the blossom crown give her a magnetic radiance. Little wonder that quite a few eyes turn to the entrance to stare.

He can see her flush from across the room, and laughs. “Izzy, your love is a true wonder. Dine blushes too rarely in my opinion, and here he is, turning her red as a sunset so easily.”

Isillud can't help but fill his chest with pride when he sees Wil's handiwork. "She does look lovely, doesn't she?"

This makes Joshua whip around and stare at his brother - Izzy actually noticing what a woman looks like? A Calamity could be on the horizon. Isillud notices the dumbfounded eyes on him and tilts his head quizzically, "What?"

They make their way to the table soon enough, Oudine still blushing.

Remont bows again. “Dine, you look marvellous. We must keep you like this until we get home, then immediately set you up with the nearest eligible bachelor. Perhaps Lord Stephanivien? I hear he's still single; you'll win him in seconds and have everyone gnashing their teeth with jealousy. Or maybe we should barge into the Holy See to visit our Lord Speaker-”

Oudine smacks his shoulder. “Don't even joke about such things. Both those gentlemen have too much to deal with already.”

Remont merely grins, then pushes the plate towards her. “As you wish, your highness.”

She rolls her eyes then smiles at her cousins. “If you ever want to consider setting up some sort of salon in Ishgard, I don't think you'll want for customers. Wil's talents would be highly sought, and lucrative I shouldn't wonder.” She picks up a knife to spread jam on her bread.

Isillud and Joshua give each other a quick look before stifling a laugh. "Perhaps we could have Wil teach a class at the Community Centre," Joshua says.

"Yeah! I could teach people and they could make an income from it, nobles love personal stylists." Wil's eyes light up, hands mimicking braiding hair, "And if the competition is opposed to it I can ex-"

"We'll put it on the cards," Isillud quickly cuts in, shoving a large bowl of salad in front of Wil.

“Much as I've enjoyed our stay, when should we leave?” Oudine lets out a small sigh. “I unfortunately have appointments to keep tomorrow.”

Joshua picks off the remnants off his plate. "We'll leave once we're all done with breakfast. I'll get the porters to bring our things out.” He takes care not to point out the luggage is mostly Oudine's.

Remont slides a look at her. “Not… him, surely.”

“No, not yet.” There's a grimness to the way her mouth is set. “I wanted to tell Tramault he can have his gil and much good may it do him. But I wonder if there's some wisdom in letting him still think he can own us.” She bites into the corner of the bread, letting the mix of lingonberry and marmalade's sweetness take the edge off the name. “We'll see. I want to speak to Uncle Regnier first, and consider our options.”

“Hmm.” He looks at the others, explaining, “Our uncle's house, Vaillant, is a vassal of Durendaire, so they've had run-ins with Gaussain before.” Remont snorts. “The name isn't a particular favourite with Baron Regnier, but he is canny; the man hasn't lived 75 summers without learning a thing or two.”

Oudine raises her eyes to the brothers and Wil. “We're planning to sever ties with Gaussain at last, now that we can buy them out. A large part of my savings has been for this moment, and Rem has brought in the last bits we need. It will be costly, and Tramault will be difficult, but it'll be worth it - having him hold our leash would be far worse.”

Joshua raises an eyebrow at Oudine's update. "You plan to buy out his share of the ranch? Will Gaussain even deign to sell?"

Oudine picks grimly at her own salad. “It’s part of what I want to speak to my uncle about. If I can get the backing of a few other nobles – or even have someone proxy for us, saying they have the lion’s share of Marlstone rather than Aubemarle – it might be enough to at least get him to sign an agreement.”

“You’d just be exchanging one hand for another on our leash with a proxy,” says Remont, picking at the same plate as his sister. “And Tramault would never believe you’d sell out this quickly. We’ve only just become profitable. The Doma contract was a boon we didn’t see coming.”

“I know, I know.” She shakes her head. “Gods, I was a fool to think his ‘investment’ was a better option than an outright loan. Damn my pride.”

“We were desperate,” says her brother. “I wouldn’t blame yourself so harshly.”

She still wears a dissatisfied turn of her lips. “I should have known better regardless.” Then she sighs again. “I just remembered. We must look for knights for Marlstone, Rem. I don't want any coincidental ‘accidents’.”

Remont eyes his sister a moment, then looks back at Izzy and Joshua. “Don't suppose you know any good bodyguards so Tramault doesn't succeed at setting our office on fire?”

"When you say 'bodyguards' are you looking for someone…permanent? Or a long-term contract?" Isillud adds, "Some only run escort missions or for nothing more than a moon at most."

“I think permanent security is our safest option, though Tramault is more subtle than his son. But in that, he’s more dangerous. And it’s high time the Ishgard office had some form of security detail anyway.”

“Maybe even the house needs its own guard,” murmurs Oudine. “Though Father never considered it.”

She pauses a moment, then sets down her fork. Her expression is apologetic. “Forgive me - I didn’t mean to suddenly bring up business while we’re still out here. I wanted to end our outing on a happier note.”

"You're saying he'd be more amenable to signing away his share if the other holders said they had a majority over you." Joshua taps his salad fork on his lips, humming while giving his brother the side-eye. "Remont's right, you'd just be indebted to another."

"Unless the proxy is someone they trust." Isillud drains his cup of tea, bringing a glass of juice closer.

Joshua's face twitches. "Izzy," he starts, "We can't afford shares, not now, anyway."

"But we eventually will. And it's good to diversify."

The younger Losstarot rolls his eyes. "I don't think this is something you can sleep your way through."

"If I can get a dozen strangers to vouch for my identity, then I can do this." He sips his juice loudly so he doesn't have to see the look of creeping horror upon his brother's face.

"You did not."

The slurping continues.

"You have contacts, Izzy! You have them! Why did you even-"

The empty glass thuds on the table. Isillud Losstarot calmly wipes the juice from his lips, ignoring his brother's increasingly rabid frothing. "I'll draw up a list of candidates for your security posts, some older adventurers seek more stable work. While this isn't the ending you hoped, I daresay this is a better option."

Both Aubemarle siblings look on at this exchange in quite stunned silence. Even Remont loses vocabulary as he hears what Izzy is saying. It is no small proposal he makes (even the bit about sleeping around), and this doesn't include the unspoken trouble he's taking on to suggest personnel for Marlstone.

“Cousin,” says Oudine at last, “We couldn't possibly ask anything of you again. Not after what you've done for us already. I didn't speak of Gaussain to do so, I just… I wanted you to know what we were planning just in case.” She lets out a breath. “It's already being mentioned in some circles that our houses are close. If we irritate Tramault enough, his grudges run deep, and your risks increase. Right now at least, no one connects either of you to Rewelle's case.” A worried wrinkle appears in her brow. “I know you are more than capable of defending yourselves, but I have no intention of… making use of you. Or our connection.”

She smiles a little here. “My mother will say this is vulgar of me to speak so plainly, but I see no other way: Losstarot is an old and venerable name. With all your efforts, you will rise in time. I can already foresee it. I do not wish to be any hindrance to you.”

Remont has been silent all this while, then breathes in. “Dine is saying you shouldn't throw away your options for our sake. Which you might be since Tramault is a fairly petty bastard despite all his grand talk. For some godsdamned reason, they've curried enough favour with Durendaire to have valid backing. Likely the rubies if I'm to speculate, but their familial link is also pretty well-documented, allegedly.”

He smirks a little. “If you have a personal quarrel with Gaussain we haven't heard of, the more the merrier. But our mother practically foisted our problems on you once. We aren't about to do so again.” He raises an eyebrow. “Also: all twelve?”

“Rem!”

"You misunderstand." Isillud crosses his legs, leaning back on his chair. "This isn't a favour. This is a business proposal. We buy some of the shares, just enough to have a voice, saving you the trouble of finding a proxy or convincing some old farts that the Viscount of their House should have a major stake in their own farm." He looks at Joshua, "And it would be nice to have chocobos to call our own to transport cargo, wouldn't it? Saves on rental."

Joshua props his head on his hands and sighs loudly. "Sounds nice except we need to find some shares to buy first unless Oudine would like to loan us hers." He quickly adds, "Please don't," to his cousins across the table before returning to Isillud, "And do it the proper way, godsdamnit, I'll close an eye to whatever schemes you have to prevent House Gaussain from poking into our affairs but-"

"But you won't abide by adultery and fornication, understood." Isillud strokes Wil's chin after the man shows him his clean plate and effusive praises for the food. "And it was all twelve; The other seventeen were contacts from my work who were all too happy to vouch for me for jobs well done. The last was from House Dailemont. That carried the most weight."

Remont chuckles. “I regret to say it Joshua, but the deeper in you go, the more adultery and fornication you'll find among the lesser houses; gossip is one thing, but half of them have a grain of truth.”

It's not the adultery I care about, it's that it always gets back to me," Joshua answers, not hiding his annoyance, "Why do adventurers need to tell me they met-"

"Language." Isillud cuts the conversation dead; formative years spent in Limsa have influenced Joshua more than he thinks.

Oudine’s eyebrows rise, recognising one of the famed goldsmiths of Ishgard. “Our mother has a pair of Dailemont earrings, a gift from our father long ago. An old, distinguished name indeed.”

She looks at the way Izzy leans back, the way he has taken on a different sort of air than the reassuring man in her room earlier. There sits Lord Isillud, not the head of the house… but its neck. She glances at Joshua then back at the older brother; both of them have the talent to combine forthrightness and cunning, to switch back and forth as needed. It’s a necessary skill in Ishgard, but perhaps more formidably, they can convince others they were either one or the other when they are really both, in curious mixes.

It could work, thinks Oudine. You have more reason to trust them than you ever did Gaussain. That deal was made in fear and desperation. Let this one be made in courage, and good faith.

She smiles a little, sitting up straighter. “My lords, I am honoured by your interest – and trust – in our company. Allow me to consult with my brother.” She looks at Remont. “What say you?”

Remont smiles amusedly. “Oh, are we doing this now? Very well then.” He straightens in his chair, clears his throat. “The name of Losstarot is in good standing within our society, and their house does splendid work with the community centre they share with the people. I say aye.”

“Then the ayes have it.” Oudine looks back at Izzy, meeting his green eyes. “If you are in earnest of this pursuit, agreements can be drawn up after we return to Ishgard.”

She turns to Joshua. “For this to work, you'll need some of mine and Rem's shares. So while I wouldn’t loan you some, Joshua, I would sell you a portion for a song.” She smiles. “Or a dance, like the one you gave me yesterday.”

“Then consider mine as payment for Dine's hair,” says Remont with a grin. “It'll be the most expensive hair appointment I've ever spent on, but I do owe her a few nameday gifts.”

"I accept your offers, Viscount and Lord de Aubemarle. I look forward to a fruitful venture. " Isillud extends a gloved hand across the table to them.

Joshua follows Izzy's cue and does the same. "I'll ask Sydney for a loan."

"He better give us the gil given how loaded he is," Isillud mutters behind gritted teeth. "If he doesn't want to be a Lord he's going to pay for that privilege."

Oudine and Remont shake hands with both brothers warmly. “As do we, my lord,” says Oudine, tone formal, although her eyes twinkle. “I’m not sure if it will help, but I’ll also write to Sydney as soon as we reach home,” she adds, with just a little hesitation. “Just to… well, introduce myself, I suppose.”

“Make it a good letter, Dine. That loan will be needed, I think, but not for us.” Remont smiles in amusement. “Thank the Fury Marlstone is kept mostly within the family.”

Oudine nods. “Our uncles, Baron Regnier de Vaillant and Lord Domin de Hellyes hold a goodly portion respectively. Aunt Perette also holds a small percentage.” She looks aside, thinking and calculating. “If they each sell you a portion of theirs, it will outweigh Tramault enough to convince him I and Remont will not have control of Marlstone. That may get him to sell his shares to you, if he’s sure you wouldn’t return it to us.”

“We’ll think on that later. First, we must amass the capital,” says Remont. “Uncle Domin and Aunt Perette are amiable creatures. I doubt they’ll give you much trouble once you explain what’s going on. It's Uncle Regnier whom you'll have to convince. Family or no, Gaussain or no, he runs his business efficiently, and he doesn’t suffer fools much.”

Oudine shakes her head. “No, he doesn’t. But one doesn’t become a weaponsmaker of renown in our city by being easy.” She smiles a little, looking at her cousins. “I doubt this is what you expected upon returning to Ishgard, but well. Here we are.”

Joshua frowns: an interesting division of shares. "Interesting that Marlstone is owned by your family members save for Traumault, yet he is satisfied as long as you don't own it. Curious. But we want the family name restored and cleared of a crime we did not commit, and if it means wading through court intrigue and politics and petty grudges, so be it."

Isillud purses his lips at the mention of restoring the family name, as if he has his own opinions but chooses to stay silent. "It appears we have plans to draw up once we return. Drink and eat your fill, everyone. The road home does not appear to be a smooth ride."

Long after breakfast is done, Oudine's luggage is piled into the carriage and they all follow after. As the Chocobos run a-pace from greenery and bright air towards cold fog and ice, she dozes against her brother's shoulder. The morning has taken its toll; try as she did to stay politely awake to converse with her companions, her eyelids closed, lulled by the rocking of the carriage. One loose triteleia has landed in her lap.

Remont is content to let her use him as a pillow, as he stares out at the scenery. Suddenly, as if the thought has been preying on his mind all the while, he says softly, “It is curious, isn't it, why Gaussain hates the name of Aubemarle so particularly. He commonly invests in various businesses, so we thought ours was just one of those he snapped up in a desperate hour. It was only after that when he allowed obvious contempt to show, though at least the rest of his family hasn't been as outwardly disrespectful.”

He smiles faintly. “Dine and I speculated my mother must have caused him serious offence at some point, but we have never been sure. One more mystery we had no time to resolve.”

"It could be a hint of something deeper or that's Gaussain's nature, who's to say?" Joshua shrugs, "I prefer working on what we have now rather than waste time on speculation. Gaussian can sit on his thumbs and be indignant about it for all I care."

Isillud leans on the carriage door, smiling at his crow perched at the driver's seat like a co-pilot. Wil had bade farewell to the twins after breakfast, returning to oversee the loading of their bags.

The younger Losstarot stretches, adjusting for comfort. "Talk to your relatives, get the shares. That's all there is to it."

~END~

Onto the epilogue

(The epilogue is short, I promise.)

#ffxiv oc #ffxiv rp #isillud losstarot #joshua losstarot #oudine de aubemarle #remont de aubemarle #william corvus #Oudine reads a lot but Remont has a more elastic imagination #after this she's going to bury her nose in books about magic just so she isn't taken by such surprise again #(oh oudine you have no idea)#Wil has my lifelong affection for gussying up Oudine so well #love this birdbrain (affectionate)#(the twins completely forgot a family party they were supposed to attend that night by the way)#(their mother is Very Disapproving when they turn up in the late-afternoon barely in time to get ready)

2 notes · View notes