#wol x sidurgu

[lavampira]

summon my heart with yours

[anarkhebringer]

'Til Death Do Us Part [Reupload]

[drkmissionaries]

Firelight Calling Off the Abyss

Sidurgu Orl/Warrior of Light | Rated E | 6863 words

Incredibly self-indulgent fic, in which Wren shows Sid a gentleness he’s never known.

[myreia]

Sketches of Times Lost

Day 30: Two Heads Are Better Than One

two dark knights, two reckless fools, and a fight on a bridge. sidurgu x wol (pre-relationship). heavensward. written for ffxivwrite2024. rated: mature tags: combat violence 2795 words ao3 link

Falling snow whispers about him, blown upon a gust of wind.  

The grey skies grow dark—too dark, alarmingly dark for the height of noon, the sun obscured by thick clouds. The air is choked with snow as assuredly as the depths of Sohm Al are choked with ash, blotting out the trees and nearby hills until nothing remains but the colossal iron bridge ahead. The blizzard has been growing for some time, and it is only going to get worse.

Fine by him. It’s preferable, come to think of it.

Sidurgu hefts his greatsword, the weight bearing down upon his shoulders. This isn’t so bad, as far as endings go. A standoff on a lonely bridge, far away from the prying, curious, judging eyes of the Ishgardian masses. And at least Rielle will not be here to see. She won’t be here to know. Gods willing she won’t know for a while. It would break what little is left of his glass heart.

The duo wait for him at the crest of the bridge, blocking the way forward. One bears a weapon and shield, the other a lance, and both are armoured in slick black armour that puts even the Temple Knights’ to shame. Their cloaks billow behind them in the wind, whipping back and forth from their shoulders. Their helmets—dark as their armour—glint in the bridge’s dim lamplight, guarding their faces. Their identities will remain unknown. This is their way, after all.

He may not know the faces of those who will grant him death, but he knows their reputation. Fearsome, brutal, far beyond the repute of even the most ferocious adventurers of Eorzea or the most ruthless Doman shinobi. They are not adventurers for hire, they are mercenaries. Assassins for hire. The kind that are not paid to have it be done silently, but to make an example. The kind that do not even have a name, only whispers in the dark.  

There is only one person who would stoop to hiring them. They do not need to wear Ystride de Caulignont’s livery for him to see her influence.

Sidurgu grimaces, his mouth aching from the cold. He can feel it in his teeth, his jaw, in his very bones. It ripples over his scales, turning him colder still. But he has no choice but to plow onward, pushing against the wind, each step carrying him closer to his doom.

“And so you’ve arrived, blackguard,” the paladin calls, his booming voice echoing across the bridge. Not a paladin. No honest paladin would swear the reviled oaths he has. “Have you at last accepted your fate?”

Sidurgu says nothing. He slows to a halt, a gauntleted hand flexing around the hilt of his sword, but does not lower it yet. “I’ve accepted that I’ve grown tired of being tailed and hunted like some common wyrm,” he replies after a moment. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.”

The dragoon laughs, her voice high and cold, not unlike the wind. “Perhaps you are little more than a common wyrm,” she says, venom oozing from her words. “You have the horns and tail to match.”

The insult means nothing coming from her. It is, after all, the least offenses when she plans to take his head and deliver it to the Countess. He regards her silently, biding his time, observing the pair, searching for their weaknesses. He hates that he has fallen for this, this measly fucking asinine attempt at a trap. There was nothing clever about it. They simply hounded him for months, no matter where he took Rielle, goading and goading until he had no choice to but to be lured into their ruse.

He’s become unguarded since losing Fray. Unbalanced, growing stupider with each passing week. Questioning his own decisions so thoroughly at each and every turn that he has become all but paralyzed. If it weren’t for Aureia, he and Rielle would have likely stayed put by that hearth in the Forgotten Knight until he, too, was put to the sword in the same sham of a trial.

He will still be put to the sword. But at least this is his choice.

Sidurgu lower his blade, shifting its great weight off his shoulders, and plunges the tip into the snow. “Enough talk!” he shouts, his voice low and guttural. “I grow tired of this dance—”

The dragoon flies at him, her lance glinting in the storm’s grey light.  

He curses, unprepared, and slams his greatsword forward. She strikes, grunting on impact, the spearhead glancing off the bulk of the blade. He turns, snow churning about his feet, the blade swinging in a great, heavy arc towards her head. But she is too nimble, too quick. High-pitched laughter reverberates unpleasantly down his horns. By the time his blade descends, she is already gone, leaping away with agility attributed to the Azure Dragoon, and disappears into the sky.

A split second later, the paladin crashes into him.

The shield takes him by surprise, its edge glancing off his jaw with such force he bites his tongue and sees stars. He stumbles, his movements dragged down by the snow. Another clang makes his head ring, his armour reverberating as the paladin’s weapon glances off his chest. His vision blurs, his head heavy, the single thought he can scrape out of the clouded mess wondering why in the bloody hells he struck there when there are plenty of weak points between the pieces.

Bloody hells, Sid. You still want to die that badly, huh? Perhaps we should have traded places when we had a chance.    

Fray’s voice—or the ghost of it—murmurs in his mind. A figment of his imagination, conjured by his final moments. Or perhaps he is finally losing his mind.

A shadow moves in the corner of his eye and he turns, sidestepping the second blow at the last second. Something heavy clips him in the side, throwing him off balance. Too late he realizes that the paladin is armed not with a sword, but with a mace. The intention is all too clear.

The third blow sends a clanging din echoing through his skull.

He crumples.

Sidurgu lies flat on his back, blinking dully at the falling snow as it scatters across his face. Light and fluffy and thick—and blissfully snow. It would almost be pretty, if under other circumstances. His greatsword stands upright by his side, its blade pointed down, buried in the ice-crusted snow. Somewhere beyond him, he sees the shadow of the paladin approaching, deadly mace aloft. It won’t take long to crush his cuirass. Smash his chest. Break his bones and ram his ribcage into the frail obsidian piece of shit he calls a heart.

All those times I saved your life when you pushed yourself too hard. Mended broken bones, sewed you back together. Are you truly going to put my conjury to waste like this?  

“…shut up,” he rasps, his throat thick.

He has to praise their efficiency. Distract him with the dragoon and her extravagant aerial attacks, give the paladin time to move in for the kill. It was never going to be a fair fight.

Who said anything about fair? You know what isn’t fair? Dying out here alone. Leaving Rielle to wonder what happened to her last guardian. Letting her question whether it was her who pushed you away. I didn’t have a choice in my death, but you do in yours. So why choose this?  

“…shut up,” he hisses.

The mace glints, rising high in the air.

Snow dusts his face, clinging to his lashes.

Why this, Sidurgu? Why this?  

The mace falls.

Blood bursts across his face, bright and hot and scalding. He grunts, the shock of it jolting him out of his paralyzed reverie, and he drags himself up, half-kneeling in the snow.

Aureia stands above him, greatsword in hand, blood splattered across the blade. Snow peppers her short, dark hair, and she tilts her head, oblivious to the roaring wind, and scans the sky with her hawklike red eyes. She’s dressed in her customary leathers, armour better suited for a mage than a dark knight. The scent of abyssal magic clings to her, a red and purple haze misting coursing between her hands, growing with intensity.

“Get up,” she growls. “Sid, get up.”

He groans and reaches for his blade, using the grip to help him to his feet. A quick look tells him all he needs to know. The paladin was dispatched in a single blow. His severed head lies some fulms away at the end of a trail of red, still encased in its helmet. “The dragoon’s still out there,” he says, turning his face to the sky.

“I know. I saw her flitting about on my way here.” She hefts her blade, her gaze darkening. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on, or should I call you a fool and we can call it a day?”

A muscle twitches in his jaw. The desire to laugh is difficult to quell. “No one knows how much of a bloody fool I’ve been more than I,” he says. “Where’s Rielle?”

“Safe.” Her answer is short and sharp. “I’m not dragging her into this.”

“Safe where?” 

“I—”

The wind whistles.

Sidurgu leaps in front of her, drawing on all the force he can muster, and shimmering shield expands around them as the dragoon drops from the sky. Her lance strikes the shield ilms from Aureia’s head and she bounces off, landing lithely on the ground. She skids backwards through the snow, her eyes gleaming with malice.

“Bitch,” she hisses, spitting on the ground. “You’ll pay for your interference—”

Aureia snarls and leaps in the air, a rune forming about her fingers. Unaspected magic surges out from her palm and hits the dragoon in the face, knocking her helmet off and pushing her backward. She stumbles to a halt, feet skidding through the snow, and raises a hand to her mouth, wiping blood from a split lip. She observes the two with ice-cold eyes, her blonde hair streaming in the wind, her lance held deftly at her side. Despite being unmasked, there is nothing recognizable about her face. Her features are painfully commonplace, nondescript. She could be one in a hundred Elezen women to grace Ishgard’s streets or to fight in the ranks of the Temple Knights.

“Dark knights. Such a pain.” She spits on the ground and raises her lance. “Tell me, Sidurgu. Is this the game we play now? Shall I take the head of your companion since she took mine?”

He scowls and sinks into a defensive stance, a burst of magic burning in his heart, ready to be unleashed. “I said earlier,” he growls. “Enough talk. If you had any wits, you would flee.”

“I have a contract to fulfill. And now I am the only one to collect it.”

“You’re mad.” He raises his blade. “Only someone mad would continue to fight after witnessing their partner’s death.”

“You witnessed yours, and you’re still here. Fighting alongside his replacement.” She cocks her head, her lip curling. “His corpse wasn’t even cold. Do you prefer her over him? Like her tits and ass that much you’d move on without a second thought?”

The words cut deep. Whether they are her words or the words of the voice in his head, he doesn’t know. He roars and charges, the blade swinging wide. The dragoon laughs and leaps backward, arcing gracefully through the air. Aureia curses, her reprove lost in the wind, even as their opponent twists and turns and rebounds upon them.

The deadly end of her lance shimmers in the air.

Aureia yells and rushes forward, slipping on the trodden snow, a shield forming between her fingers.

Too late. The lance rams into her, impaling her through the side. She chokes, blood bursting from her lips, and collapses into the snow. The dragoon raises her head, eyes shining with triumph—

He slashes, his blade cloaked with night.

Her body topples headless to the blood-stained snow.

Sidurgu curses and trudges through the snow, boots slipping on blood and melting slush. When he reaches Aureia’s side, he finds her curled in pain, teeth gritted as she wraps her fingers around the lance.

“Leave it,” he says, sinking to his knees, uncertain of what he is saying. “Leave it be.”

Her eyes narrow. “What are you talking about?”

“Fucking damn it, you’re supposed to leave things like that. For the chirurgeons. Pull it out without a healer’s aid and you’ll bleed to death.”

“I’m not going to bleed to death. Or at least I’m not planning on it.”

“From my perspective, looks like you are.” He curses again and wipes blood from his face. The wind howls, blowing another gust of snow over them. He exhales a long breath and casts an eye around their surroundings, seeing nothing but snow and ice and the edge of the colossal bridge. “Where’s your damn chocobo? Surely it can take you back to Falcon’s Nest—”

“I sent Filo back.” She cries out, her breath laboured, sweat forming on her brow. “Fucking mistake, but here we are. You have to help me with this.”

“I’m not a conjurer.”

“I know.”

“If Rielle were here—”

“Good that she’s not. Don’t need her seeing what fools we’ve been, worrying her sick.” Aureia catches his eye and extends a hand. “Please. I’ll tell you what to do. I’m not going to bleed out, I promise.”

She’s been promising him a lot of things recently. Too much, if he’s honest. “You’re no conjurer either,” he remarks darkly.

“I know. But I know enough… I think.” She takes his hand and places it against the lance’s haft. “I’m a black mage, Sid. I can close my wounds, cauterize them with fire. It should hold long enough… Until I can teleport us out of here.”

He looks at her, crumpled in the red and trodden snow. This fierce, daring warrior who is a force to be reckoned with. He should have told her what was at stake. Of course she found out. Of course she came for him anyway. She’s as foolish as he is, and perhaps they are both better for it.

Sidurgu grips the lance. “What do you need me to do?” he asks.

She tells him, her orders strict and brisk, wasting no time. He asks her again, his heart clenching as she gives the clarification he needs, shoving down the horror of what she is about to do.

Once she is ready, it is over in a heartbeat.

She screams as he pulls the lance from her side, blood oozing from the wound, soaking her clothes. But she wastes no time, her eyes burning bright, white-ringed flame bursting from her fingers. It laces the wound, burning, burning, burning, and she squeezes her eyes shut, jaw clenched with pain.

He sits with her, his hand in hers, allowing her to lean against him as her spell does its work. He has never felt so helpless, holding her like this, unable to do anything but wait. Fray was the conjurer among them, whereas he simply… fought. A blade. A shield. Much like Aureia. He has never given much thought to what happens when the shield breaks.

Fire is destructive, this he knows. But he suspects—judging from the way it washes over her—she may have found a way to infuse it with light, drawing on her own aether to heal herself. Or perhaps something akin to that. He wouldn’t know, this isn’t his domain. But Fray would have.

And then it is done. She lies there, collapsed against him, her breath shallow but strong.

“Are you… how do you…” He clears his throat. “Are you all right?”

“I’ll live.” She groans and pushes herself up, using her blade for support as she rises on unsteady feet. “Thanks.”

“Aureia, I…” Should he thank her in return? It was her intervention that saved his life. And yet he can’t quite bring himself to say it. “We should go. When you’re ready. Let’s not linger.”

She nods, the wind rustling her hair as she surveys the massacre upon the bridge. With enough snowfall, the bodies of their enemies will soon be covered, frozen in ice until the next thaw. The ghoulish part of his mind wonders whether there is a reward for dispatching them, but he would rather not tangle with the Temple Knights to find out. Besides, Ystride will know they failed soon enough. Better not hurry that event.  

Finally, Aureia stretches out a hand, taking his in turn. One breath, another, and then they vanish together.

[feralkwe]

Chapter 5 - Sink Into Me

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: Sidurgu Orl/Warrior of Light

Characters: Warrior of Light (Kit Hareington), Sidurgu Orl

Additional Tags: Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Friends with Benefits, Porn with Plot, Porn with Feelings, Dark Knight Questline, Post-Shadowbringers

Summary:

Becoming lonely and celibate was not going to bring Elidibus back from the dead. She needed to let herself feel something other than hurt, sadness, and rage. If she let herself, she would slide into despair, and that would serve nothing and no one. Sidurgu was offering something safe, a place for both of their currently fragile hearts to come to rest. She could say no, and nothing would change. They would still go on, mentor and mentee. He would still continue her training, still teach her the dark magic to hone her swordsmanship. They would still fight side by side to protect Rielle, leaving battered and bloodied and relying on others to patch them up.

In Anyx Trine, Kit and Sidurgu find comfort together in their growing friendship.

Note: Please mind all tags and the rating change, lovelies!

[twilishark]

Couples who look at you like they're disappointed with you together stay together (after an admittedly long, painful for rielle, 3 expansion length slowburn)

[Image description: Sidurgu and Rino (Viera WOL) stand side by side, arms folded with expressions of annoyance. They are both wearing clothes that could be considered casual or modern.]

[devilmented]

“See right through you” or simply “Orion meets Granson and Sidurgu’s Ancient self” 💫✨

[catboynutsack]

Just turned to my boyfriend and asked "do you think if you banged Sidurgu (FFXIV) the ghost of Fray would show up and tell you you're doing it wrong" and they didn't even look at me and said "that's an.... idea"

[zeloinator]

[vierandancer]

Top 10 favourite characters?

FINAL FANTASY MUNDAY MEME! || Accepting

Hmmm. It's hard to rank them but I will try.

Fray & Sidurgu (FF14): I'm cheating immediately and lumping together my Dark Knight class husbands because I can. Also heavily influenced by @aethericsea's interpretations, but whatever. For Fray, I love a slight-obsessed-with-you dark side vaugely self-cesty ghost that scolds you when you don't take care of yourself. The Dark Knight quests are so healing for the WoL. It is the closest thing you get to actual therapy. Leading into my adoration for Sidurgu -- he is just a good guy. Does he fuck up? Yes. I love me some guys who fuck up and try to do better. He also has such faith in the WoL and such empathy for them. Like when you go back post-EW and check in, he's like "wow that sounds unbelievable but it's you so I understand." I'll tag Rielle in here as well, because I just love her story as well, and how she changes from a quiet, traumatized child into a sassy apple-eating healer who calls Sidurgu a chocobo's arse. I have so many feelings about the DRK fam you guys.

Garnet (FF9): Garnet/Dagger, my girl! Was I biased because she was the closest FF protag lass who looked like me? Yes. Am I still biased for that reason? Yes. But also, again (as I'll say 100x below), I adored her journey. I loved her dedication to her people, I loved her Mulan moment, I enjoyed her learning to be more formal through Zidane. I loved that she fucking drugged everyone's food and jumped from a tower and enjoyed the hell out of it. She's just so much fun even though I don't believe she would have worn a bodysuit THAT TIGHT. Praying every day for a FF9 remake announcement.

Zidane (FF9): Sorry Thancred, you were knocked out of the Top 3 by the original flirty blond rogue. FF7 was my first Final Fantasy, but 9 was the one I fell in love with. I appreciated Zidane's more upbeat and scrappy attitude, and of course, he was far from perfect (i.e flirting with the girl in the bar and then fucking up and mentioning it to Garnet) and had his whole questioning his existing thing. He's just really fun, damn it.

Thancred (FF14): Thancred is a fucking mess. I am partially biased towards him because of @aethericsea's interpretation, but a lot of it pulls from canon anyway. Again, I adore his growth and the journey he takes, his relationship with Minfilia, his struggles with what's obviously depression with a hint of alcoholism, and the fact that despite getting the cool animations, he still gets clowned on.

Alphinaud (FF14): Alphinaud barely has the step above Alisaie in this ranking, and only because of his shift from ARR into Heavensward. Alphinaud changes from a bratty snoot who sends WoL around like a living weapon to truly loving them like family. He is so mature and respectful and I love it when he sees his earlier mistakes in others.

Alisaie (FF14): Alisaie's growth is more subtle than Alphinaud's, but I love the balance she brings. She feels like a genuine teenager more than Alphinaud does sometimes and I adore her vulnerability. I also love her calling the villains out, even if it makes me panic from time to time for her safety.

Tataru (FF14): Tataru is such a supportive friend to the WoL and just an excellent 'run the house while you adventure' NPC. I am SO glad they play into her boss babe entrepreneur mentality as the story proceeds.

Cloud (FF7/7R): I respect the impact FFVII had on gaming. The original 7 was the first Final Fantasy I ever played and what inspired me to want to be a game designer! Plus, like Noctis, I appreciate Cloud being 100% done with everyone. Sadly, never beat 7. I beat 7R though!

Rikku (FFX/X-2): Again, didn't play a lot of X and it has been like 20 years since I played X-2, but I adore her. What a girl's girl.

Noctis (FFXV): The only reason Noctis is down at #10 is because I haven't played FFXV personally, but I've seen clips with him via @starrymused and I appreciate his attitude. Someone just let the man fish and not be a protagonist.

HONORABLE MENTIONS:

SHE'S TECHNICALLY NOT FINAL FANTASY BUT GODDAMIT, JUSTICE FOR EDEA LEE OF BRAVELY DEFAULT. SHE DESERVED MORE RESPECT AND CLOSURE FUCK YOU RINGABEL AND ALL OF ETERNIA

And @starrymused's Tidus because we will be interacting soon as well, and he's good lad who is also a himbo jock like Meiko.

[lavampira]

after I have traveled so far we'd set the fire to the third bar

[anarkhebringer]

I got tagged for that "people you wanna get to know better" tag game, so let's do this

Tagged by @a-new-dork, thanks for the tag

Relationship status: Not in a romantic relationship but I AM in some secret third thing with @floople-doople I guess. Neither of us know what the fuck is going on and we're cool with it.

Favorite colors: Red and purple

Song stuck in my head: Immoral Taste of the Bloody Travel by KagomeP

Favorite foods: Honestly? I dunno since I dislike or can't eat more foods than I like (sensory issues), I have to genuinely sit on it and think. I DO know I LOVE sweets and meat, though.

Last song played: Immoral Taste of the Bloody Travel again

Dream trip: I'm not really a travel kind of person, I haven't even been to more than maybe 5 places outside of my town max

Last thing googled: "ffxiv sidurgu x wol" to look for fanfics and fanart shdugfygh

I never tag anybody for these so just do it if you wanna do it too djifhuiy

[drkmissionaries]

wishing them the happiest of valentione’s days❤️

[myreia]

Sketches of Times Lost

Day 10: Stable

something is sparking between aureia and sidurgu, and they can't seem to see it. but rielle can. sidurgu x female warrior of light (pre-relationship), mentions of aymeric x wol. set during stormblood patches, but after the lvl 60-70 drk quests. rated: teen 2086 words ao3 link

“…when I said you could accompany us back to Ishgard, I didn’t mean for it to become a godsdamned holiday.”

“Resting at an inn is not a holiday.”

“And this isn’t a sight-seeing trip!”

“It’s fine, Sid! It’s one night! Is there something wrong with one night?”

“It’s dangerous, that’s what. For her, for you, for me.”

“Dangerous from whom, exactly? The Empire’s been all but routed from Gyr Abania. Besides, I don’t think many in patrons would consider confronting two dark knights head-on, and those that could would be drunk out of their minds. Please tell me you’re not afraid of a drunkard.”

“That’s not—godsdammit, you can be a right bloody bonehead when you want to be, you know that, eh?”

Rielle sighs and leans forward in her saddle, patting Filo’s neck. The chocobo chirrups, his head tugging on the reins as he leans into her hand, enjoying the feel as she pets his shiny black feathers. The day has stretched on and on, the road getting longer with every step, Baelsar’s Wall shadowing the horizon and somehow never getting closer, the dusty heat growing intolerable in the Gyr Abanian haze.

If she were younger—or travelling alone, let’s be honest—she would have pelted Sidurgu with the oh-so-tempting “are we there yet?” question, but for now she holds her tongue. Though Sidurgu has dragged her from one end of Coerthas to the other, even trekking into Gridania on the rare occasion, this is the furthest from Ishgard she has ever been. Her rear and legs may ache from too many hours in the saddle, but even with Sidurgu and Aureia’s endless bickering, she can’t remember a time she was this happy on the road.

She doesn’t want it to end.

She’s being selfish, she knows. Like a little kid—an actual little kid, thank you very much—asking for another five minutes at their favourite park, or clinging onto a favourite toy that has long since fallen apart. Sidurgu wanted them to return on their own, without company. He didn’t say as much—not aloud—but she saw it in his eyes when tending to his wounds. If he wasn’t stuck leaning against a rock, moaning and groaning and complaining about her fussing over him, he would have taken her and stalked down the road the moment Aureia’s back was turned. So, she struck at the opportune moment, piping up before he could say or do anything, and pointedly asked her—“You’ll come back with us to Ishgard, won’t you?”

She didn’t answer right away. There was a crease in her brow, a downcast turn to her eyes, and in that moment Rielle feared she would say no. But then she brightened, a warm smile spreading across her face, and she said—“I suppose I must. I’m going the same way, after all.”

That was yesterday. They walked for a time, Filo puffing and panting beneath Sidurgu’s weight before it became too much for the chocobo. The poor thing was the runt of his flock—Aureia’s told her the story many times—incapable of carrying an Elezen cavalier let alone a massive Au Ra in full plate armour and with a greatsword to boot.

And so they camped early, finding a spot beneath a single sprawling tree. Leaving Sidurgu to make the fire—he insisted, it was the one thing he could manage without aggravating his wounds—Rielle and Aureia hurried down the slope to the little rippling stream. Rielle wasn’t much help; she splashed in the water, giggling and free, scaring away the fish Aureia tried her best to catch. A waste, maybe, but neither Aureia nor Sidurgu told her off for it. She was too busy enjoying wading in the stream herself, and he… well. Rielle is certain he was looking at her a different way. Or maybe the same way he always has. Or maybe…

They had the last of their rations that night, laughing and smiling around the fire. It did not feel like a rationed meal.

And now today. Aureia suggested she ride Filo instead, leaving her and Sidurgu to walk ahead. Rielle was thrilled—still is, even though she is hurting all over now. She has never properly ridden a chocobo before, and Filo is such a pretty bird. The hands at the Holy Stables call him mean and difficult—he has a legendary grudge against one of the Scions, the Hyur with the white hair Aureia makes weird faces when he’s mentioned—but Rielle thinks differently. Difficult, no. Misunderstood? Maybe.  

She knows what that’s like.

But now the sun is slowly sinking toward the red-brown peaks, and they really are going to have to find somewhere to stay or camp. They’re approaching a crossroads—literally. Up the hill and over the ridge, there’s a little inn with a wide stable for chocobos and warm, soothing lights in the windows. The perfect place for a trio of weary travellers.  

But of course Aureia and Sidurgu can’t seem to make up their minds.

“Happy to be a bonehead, then, if it means someone here has the voice of reason,” Aureia says.

Sidurgu snorts, but Rielle knows better. Even when his back is turned, she can hear him trying not to smile—and his tail is curling. Sometimes she wonders if it’s the same sort of thing as those girls in the Forgotten Knight when they twist their hair around their finger while making eyes at Gibrillont. He only does it around her. Maybe he doesn’t even know it.

No matter how testy their bickering gets, he likes it. He used to bicker with Fray, too.

“You know those are incompatible,” he mutters. “Bonehead. Voice of reason. Not exactly the same thing.”

“What can I say? I’m full of contradictions. A right paradox, maybe.”

“Bloody hells, you can say that again. Here I was thinking you had put aside your greatsword for good when you all but kidnapped us on this little hol…”

“Hm? What was that?”

“Never mind.”

“Oh, good. And here I thought you said holiday for a moment.”

He lets out a long sigh and passes a hand across his face. “Aureia…”

She flashes him a grin.

He glares at her, a smile tugging at his lips. “Aureia, please. Don’t make me laugh. I’d rather not bleed through my bandages tonight.”

From their position several paces behind, Filo chirrups and throws a look over his shoulder, his dark, beady eyes staring at Rielle. She shrugs and pats his neck. “I know,” she whispers. “I think they’re both being boneheads. What do you think?”

Filo chirps again and shakes himself from side to side in fervent agreement.

“Yes, exactly.”

Aureia raises her arms, her hands brushing the hilt of her greatsword as she pulls her hair back and twists it into a knot. It’s different from the messy, uneven crop she sported when Rielle first met her, long enough to brush her shoulders. There’s a bit of red in it, too, which Rielle doesn’t remember. She didn’t have that when she first came to Ishgard.

“The inn is a good option, Sid,” she says. “Give Rielle a normal night for once instead of sleeping on the ground again.”

“I know that, I simply—”

He pauses, bowing his head to look at her. The difference in height between them would be quite funny, if only height wasn’t such a sore spot. Rielle huffs, making a face. Aureia may be half-Elezen, but she did not inherit their height. Is it a sore spot for her, too? Rielle hasn’t thought to ask her.  

“All right, out with it. Don’t think I don’t know you, Aureia, this isn’t about the inn or Rielle. You’re hanging onto something.”

“I… am I?”

“You don’t want to go back to Ishgard, do you.”

It isn’t a question. An accusation? Something else?

His voice has dropped low, not quite a whisper. Rielle rises a fraction out of the saddle and leans in, straining her ears to catch the conversation.

“Maybe. Yes. Perhaps.”

“Aur.” He rests a hand gently against her shoulder and their pace slows. Their boots scuff the road, a cloud of dirt puffing around their feet. “What’s going on?”

His voice is calm. Firm. Steady. The kind of voice he has after she has a bad nightmare, but not quite.  

“It’s nothing, it’s…” Aureia lets out a long, sad sigh. Rielle tugs sharply on the reigns and Filo hisses in protest, jerking to a stop some feet behind. “There’s someone I must meet with when I return.”

“I see.”

“And I would… rather not.”

A pause. “I suppose the Lord Speaker of the House of Lords and the Lord Commander of the Temple Knights is a difficult man to ignore.”

“He can be, yes. Especially when you’re…” She pauses again. “Fuck. Let’s not pretend I even know what we are anymore. He asked me to marry him and I couldn’t even say yes.”

“Would it be too much to say that I am glad of that?”

“Sid—”

“Damned if I even want to know what you are to him. And I know all too well—very well, in fact—that this is not my place and not my business, but I will say what must be said if no one else will. If you need to hear it. I do not like who you have become with him. I’m sure—Temple Knight aside—he is a pleasant man in his own right. And it would be unfair to accuse him of anything malignant, I know that is not his way. And I do believe you love him, or have loved him—”

“Sid…”

“Past or present, my point still stands. You have chased something with him. Something that has brought you joy, yes, but also great sorrow. From what I have seen, from what you have told me… I believe you must become someone else to remain with him. And I do not believe you will ever be happy becoming that person. If the pair of you were in different circumstances, if you were different people…”

“If he wasn’t the Lord Commander and I wasn’t the Warrior of Light?”

He meets her eyes, his horns casting a shadow across his face in the glare of the setting sun. “If he weren’t a politician and you weren’t the Alliance’s war hound.”

She inhales sharply. “You didn’t have to put it that way.”

“Someone bloody well should have. There are a dozen places you should be rather than wandering the Gyr Abanian wilderness with a surly dark knight and a teenaged girl. A dozen people who need you more than we do. So what other reason was there for all of this, Aureia? A soul crystal cracked? Or an excuse to run?”

A pause. “I don’t think I can talk about this now,” Aureia says quietly.

Sidurgu lets out a long breath. His hand slips from her shoulder. “I’m sorry, that was… harsher than I intended.”

“Don’t be. You were only saying what you thought. And what I’ve thought for some time. Sometimes I think you’re the only person who makes any damn sense.”

“Oh, so is that why you keep finding reasons to come and find me? You’ve long since outgrown the Forgotten Knight.”

Her hand brushes his. “That’s not the only reason.”

He smiles.

Rielle yelps and tips forward, clinging to the reigns.

Filo chirrups shrilly, wings spread wide as if to catch her. She clutches the reigns and pulls herself upright just in time, her cheeks flushing red as Aureia and Sidurgu turn around, both instinctively reaching for their weapons.

“Rielle!” he calls, releasing the hold on his greatsword’s grip. “Are you all right?”

She steadies herself. “Fine!”

“Don’t test the bird. I don’t want you getting thrown out of the saddle—”

“Don’t test your wounds, Sid, I don’t want them re-opening before tomorrow at the earliest if you can help it.” She smirks, proud of herself for the quip, and nudges Filo with her heels. He trots forward, giving the pair a smug look as he trots by. “Let’s go to that inn, shall we? If I deserve a bed for the night, then Filo deserves a stable, don’t you think?”

Sidurgu and Aureia exchange looks, both of them trying very hard not to laugh.

Grinning with triumph, Rielle tucks her hair behind her ears and leads them up the hill and down the path to the inn.  

[feralkwe]

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Warrior of Light/Sidurgu Orl

Characters: Warrior of Light (Kit Hareington), Sidurgu Orl

Summary:

She knew what he sought, and that he clearly sought it from her in that moment. What she didn't know was why he was being so odd about it. They were anything but strangers, and it wasn't like she had ever turned down a direct invitation to fall into bed with him.

Sidurgu has a problem, and Kit offers to help a friend in need. She gets more than she bargained for.

PLEASE mind the tags at the post. This is baby's first kinkfic. Enjoy!

The title is from Fall Out Boy's "Bishops Knife Trick" because it's punny in a topical way. I'm hilarious and I thought this would be fun and funny to write. I was right.

[aspectedstar]

Introducing...Chrysise Gallolor!

I am now adding my third WoL OC to my roster!

She is my 3rd alt I have been playing her for awhile, and decided to flesh her out as an actual OC.

Some quick facts about her:

She was born in Old Sharlayan, but was taken away from two Midlanders in order to 'save her' from being exploited by her family.

How the Echo manifested in her is eerily similar to Mikoto's. She can see future events, but they aren't set in stone. Any variables can change the outcome of the event. So, while the original event WILL happen, there are different outcomes that can happen.

She is an Astrologian that knows Ishgardian and Sharlayan astrology. Learning both has given her insight on how different and similar they can be.

She didn't join the Scions and other WoLs until well after base HW was over. So, 3.1 was when she officially joined.

Chrysise is interested in a certain grumpy Dark Knight named Sidurgu (developing ship for WoL x Sidurgu).

She knows the basics of archery for hunting and defending herself. Nothing fancy!

If you become under her care, she will make sure you were properly taken care. Any complaints or being stubborn will cost you your sanity.

She hates the heat--the cold is her best friend!

Her OC tag will be "oc: the soul star".

Her main canonverse will be called "verse; radiant ascension".

Full profile can be found here!