#wol: sometimes I can still hear his voice…

[alicesadventuresinffxiv]

FFxivWrite2024 Prompt #27 (Make-up)

So you remember this scene from 5.2, where Elidibus uses a meteor shower illusion to give the Echo to a bunch of people at the Crystarium? And how the Scions are all there, but none of them awaken the Echo?

Imagine how heartbreaking it would be if one of them had.

Anyway, this little fic takes place shortly afterwards.

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Title: Falling through memory, hand in hand

Wordcount: 1281

Spoilers through: Shadowbringers (5.2)

Alternate Universe: WoL!Fordola timeline

Relationships & Characters: Fordola/Lyse

Summary: After Elidibus’s starshower awakens Lyse to the Echo, Fordola starts behaving strangely around her.

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Ever since Elidibus had cast his illusion over the Crystarium, Fordola had been acting strangely. She’d seen those two newly ambitious adventurers off with a cagey wariness that hadn’t been wholly outside her norm, but once she and Lyse had returned to their room for the evening, she hadn’t been able to sit still.

Whenever Lyse found herself frowning quietly, eyes distant as she tried to make sense of the day’s troubling revelations, her reverie would be interrupted by her girlfriend. A gentle squeeze of her hand, a soft kiss on her hair… tiny, feather-light touches as though Fordola seemed to think Lyse might forget she was there. 

And when Lyse had playfully shooed her away, Fordola had disappeared and come back with a luxurious three-course dinner.

“The Exarch still owes me,” she’d said by way of explanation.

Now, Lyse certainly didn’t mind the attention and the (absolutely delicious, she’d have to thank G’raha sometime) food, but she couldn’t help but wonder what had put the idea in Fordola’s head.

Normally, the former soldier subsisted off of whatever quick food she could shove in her mouth before the next battle that inevitably demanded her attention. Lyse couldn’t blame her - she was much the same herself - but one of them would probably have to learn to cook at some point. 

Or at least remember to occasionally sit down. Leaning against Fordola and enjoying the fruits of the Crystarium’s innovations together like this… it was really nice, actually. It didn’t taste anything like Gyr Abanian recipes, but eating her fill while snuggling up to her love felt just like home.

Lyse could get used to this. She hoped dearly that she’d get the chance, one day.

“Want to hear how my day went?”

Lyse blinked and almost choked on her tea. “But… we’ve been together since this morning?” From waking up in their shared bed, to the journey to the Isle of Ken, to exploring the Ancients’ ruins deep under the sea, the two women hadn’t left each other's side.

Fordola bit her lip, then cast her eyes about the room. Looking anywhere but at Lyse. “Then… what about something from a while back? Never did tell you how I met Giott now, did I?”

That offer, more than anything before, sent alarm bells blaring through Lyse’s head. Though Fordola had grown far more relaxed and open in their months together, she simply wasn’t a chatterbox the way Lyse could be. When Fordola did feel pressed to talk, it usually meant there was something very wrong indeed.

“Is something the matter?” Lyse finished her last bite of coffee biscuit and sat back to stare critically at the “hero” who’d nearly become a Lightwarden and not seen fit to tell her. “You’ve been acting all… weird.”

Fordola shook her head. “Nothing’s wrong,” she said gruffly, and then proceeded to clean up the meal settings. While insistently pushing Lyse away when she tried to help.

“Can’t have you dropping a plate if you get a vision, can we?” 

“Honestly!” Lyse threw up her hands, about ready to punch something. Preferably Elidibus, given this was all his fault. “Is that what this is about? I’m perfectly fine, I’ll have you know!” Since the moment in the courtyard had passed, Lyse hadn’t noticed a single thing different about herself.

“I haven’t had any visions yet. For all we know, the voice I heard was an illusion t… nnngh.” A sudden wave of dizziness swept over her.

“Lyse - !”

Was this the same fatigue that had hit Thancred? But the pounding in her head, the ringing in her ears, the horrid sensation of being pulled… it just wouldn’t stop, until Lyse couldn’t keep her eyes open - 

This was the operating table in the Resonatorium. The harsh artificial light of its interior now stabbed into Fordola’s eyes, and every one of her nerves seemed to be rubbed raw and screaming while her skull seemed like to split in two - 

This was the Garlean transport that had taken them halfway to the Peaks as they’d fled. The cold metal bit into Fordola’s skin, or what she hoped was her skin, because it was taking all her focus to stay in the present and not panic and claw herself out of this body that no longer fit with her soul - 

This was the field hospital outside the Resistance camp, at least it sometimes was, in between the bouts of feverish delirium and the endless, endless visions, until Fordola couldn’t tell what wounds were her own or what thoughts were her own. There was only pain and hatred in every shape and every form as the soldiers around her bled and died, and she bled and died while - while - 

While there was a voice at her side, talking her through it all. Rambling cheerfully about some inane nonsense that had happened that day. The voice that was always there, Lyse was there, at her side which was her side… if she could hear the voice, that meant what was happening was real.

If she could hear the voice, then she would soon feel her hand being held. And the touch would draw her out and the vision would end. She would be safe. Everything would be okay. She just needed to listen to the voice -

Lyse gasped awake, her body still shivering with phantom pains and covered in sweat. Where - What - How - 

“...the helmets. Thought the bugger’d gone bloody daft on me! But it worked, that’s the real kicker. And I’d not made any progress cracking the bastard eater’s healing tricks neither, so we put our heads together and figured, well what’ve we got to lose, eh?”

As Lyse’s surroundings slowly came back into focus, the first thing she noticed was Fordola’s voice, recounting some bizarre story. Then the sight of Fordola herself, perched at the side of the bed and carefully clutching Lyse’s hand in both her own.

“...wasn’t hard to scrounge up a few of the rusty buckets, so then the next time…”

Which meant… Lyse was in bed now. She was still in their room in the Pendants, but her girlfriend must have carried her to the bed when she’d collapsed.

“Fordola…?”

“Ah, you’re back.” A wry, bitter smile. “I’d ask if you enjoyed the trip, but we both know there’s not much pleasant in my he- oh?”

Lyse surged out of the bed, her first priority being to wrap Fordola in her arms and shower her with kisses.

“Gods, I had no idea it was that bad for you…” she breathed in between pecks. “No wonder you were worried!”

“Hmph.” Even after all their time together, Fordola struggled to accept affection herself. Not that she could hide the fierce blush spreading over her cheeks. “Seems I’d naught to concern myself about after all!”

“No, it was plenty scary!” Lyse buried her head into Fordola’s shoulder. Maybe Fordola could feel her still-racing heart.

Another one of those small, melancholy smiles. “The first time always is. But it’ll get better.” Fordola wrapped her own arms around Lyse and stilled her by crushing her into a hug. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”

Together.

That was the important thing. It didn’t matter what Elidibus’s schemes were, or what fate Hydaelyn had or hadn’t chosen for Lyse. She’d just have to muddle through it as best she could, regardless of whether or not she was good enough. 

That’s how it had been in Ala Mhigo, hadn’t it? Her and Fordola against the Empire despite everything being stacked against them and between them.

But if they’d kicked out the Garleans despite all that… well, they had to stand a chance against the remaining Ascians too.

[candycryptids]

hewwooo tuesday here's a silly little question for you since your "check it out, frogs!!" blog title always delights me: how do each of your characters feel about frogs? 👀

I *love* Frogs, but how do the blorbeans feel about em...? Well... I had to really think about it TTuTT BUT! Chuu favors mechanical creatures over flesh 'n blood ones, and while her getting to the First is ambiguous and mysterious (being a non-wol, I just try not to think about it too much) She DOES... love the Dwarven Mecha frogs. And. The biggest frog of them all... Formi.... <3 …. So she doesn’t care for frogs much. She has sent Tuesday out frog catching for alchemical ingredients though….

Colette... Doesn't have any feelings this way or that about frogs, really. They're small, they're kinda slimey? but mostly they're just, very small. Except Gigantoads, I suppose, but those are a toad, and decidedly less slimey, by virture of being a toad. The ambivalence remains though! They're not that tricky to fight so long as you know how to wriggle out of their tongue grasp. (I did... take some frog-related Colette pictures tho >:3 I'm just gonna, post em a bit later, since the theme got away from me) Gigantoads make for a decent enough meal so long as you prep the meat right :T the legs are the most edible part yk.

Ishi is much more fond of Poro Roggo's, Matoya's froggy familiars. They're wearing LITTLE HATS ! They wave little canes! They're quite frankly adorable and they have little croaking voices. What's not to enjoy? (And also, there's something really nice about being out in the marshes of Mor Dhona and finding a little frog instead of a Morbol ready to stink bomb you, HAH)

Tuesday shivers when he thinks about frogs (knows the difference between a frog and a toad, still pictures a Gigantoad first, and does not much love being yanked mid-cast from his Ley lines into body slamming range.) Finds just a regular little frog endearing and will get down in the mud and muck to look at it though. Is especially fascinated by frogs that stick to things like leaves and trees and their camouflages uwu He’s the one who likely knows the most about frogs, and would gladly tell you more about them. Probably compares information with Erenville, if they ever meet up in non-life-threatening-situations.

Tangy finds them fun ! If she’s on a walk or a run or an errand and it’s drizzly and she sees a little frog hop across the pathway there’s literally 0 inhibitions in her body that stop her from also hopping or skipping for at least a minute (still on her way, but a frogs leap is so charming. They’re like tiny dragoons! She points this similarity out to Estinien once. Krile laughs, Estinien looks constipated- you know the face.) She also has a weird compulsion to put them into her mouth, though, so if she catches one….. make sure it’s not poisonous. She doesn’t even plan to eat it! They just look like they would fit perfectly in her kitty jaws (she is sometimes correct).

Mochiie had to get used to frog song when he moved to Gridania. The rivers and lakes and greenery abounding let the little critters thrive in a way they don’t particularly on the Steppe. …. He comes around to finding it relaxing and feels uneasy when he doesn’t hear them anymore lmfao. In non-WoL au’s, probably sometimes tasks adventurer’s with catching frogs for alchemical ingredients OR to bring back to the pond he’s been carefully maintaining to encourage the little beepers to live in it. (Btw, his favorite frog singers are the Pobblebonk or Banjo Frog [YT Link], and the Pacific Chorus Frog [YT Link] 🥰)

Levraut…. I’m still not sure. 🤔 I think he’d like them, but he wouldn’t feel strongly about them. He WOULD eat them though. As would Colette and Mochi… I mentioned Tangy liked to stick them in her mouth but actually eating them seems like a waste, since she’s so big and they’re so small. Like eating a blueberry. I can say his favorite frogs would be the Blue Jeans Poison Frog, for their striking jackets of warning colors, and the desert rain frog, whose perfect spherical nature and grumpy face is endearing.

[estinienbestinien]

Estinien/WoL

Genre: pretty fluffyyyy

Notes: my mind is pure estinien rot so i wrote smth about it hehehe

It felt like nights with the Scions sometimes never ended as there was always one more story to tell, one more drink to have, one more joke to share. However the night needed to wrap up at some point and for you that point was now. Your eyes were almost stinging with how tired they were and the key to your room was refusing to go in, constantly slipping away. Laughter can still be heard down the hallway but all you wanted to do was go to your room and relish in the comfort of your bed. 

Trying to fit the key in the lock for about the 50th time now you suddenly jump as you felt two warm hands wrap around your waist. You know no one would dare try this with you, no one except one. “Since when were you so touchy in public?” 

“Since I have found my beloved locked out of their room and thought they could use my support.” You hear the rumbling voice of Estinien who rests his head on yours. “Besides no one is here, this is virtually not even public.” 

You chuckle softly as you finally open the door. “Whatever you say dear.” Walking into the room you set the key down by the door and drop face first into the bed. The bed dips slightly beside you as Estinien sits next to you, his hand moving to your back to softly draw lines. You mumble something into the mattress so quietly that Estinien almost misses it.

“You’re going to have to say that again.” He says now resting his hand still on your back. You let out a loud sigh and shift so your mouth is unobstructed, “I said go bathe stinky.” 

He looks at you with a blank stare and just blinks. “Stinky?” You try to hide the smile that is slowly trying to creep on to your face. “I bathe every single day, always keep my belongings clean, and you dare call me stinky?” 

“You’re always jumping around and doing a lot of exercise, it can get stinky!” You say suppressing a chuckle as you justify yourself. You roll over to lay on your back now looking up at him. 

You couldn’t tell if the look on his face was hurt, or if he was truly just wondering if he really was that stinky. “I thought you liked how I smell.” His voice was smaller than usual and you couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty. You sit up and climb into his lap moving to face him. Taking his face in your hands you squish his cheeks slightly, looking into his eyes. 

“Darling I love everything about you, I was only joking with you, you always smell wonderful to me.” You give him a soft kiss on his squished lips before moving your hands down his neck before resting them on his shoulders. His face relaxes slightly, dawning a soft smile, “I should shower though.” 

He carefully moves you back on to the bed before getting up to grab a towel. “Care to join me?” 

[amoebaforce]

I just saw your headcanons, loved them a lot! Do you think I could request headcanons of scions who saw the WoL turn into an (angsty) Gunbreaker because they (WoL) felt like they failed to protect others? If that makes any sense?

thank you, anon! you certainly can!

i feel like everyone would try to help as best they can in this situation, since all of them have their own angsty streaks, too... some certainly wider than others. enjoy :)

characters featured: Y'shtola Rhul, Urianger Augerelt, Thancred Waters, Estinien Wyrmblood, G'raha Tia, Alphinaud + Alisaie Leveilleur tags: angst, fluff, trauma, mental health, healing, mentions of in-universe loss/death, lots of spoilers technically!

Y’shtola

Y’shtola has watched the Warrior closely these years, and she was among the first to notice the change in them. Even before her sight was taken, she could tell the responsibility of the Echo was starting to wear on the WoL. When they decided to take up the gunbreaker’s job stone, it felt like a natural (if grim) evolution of their mindset.

She completely empathizes with the Warrior’s compulsion to protect and defend. Y’shtola became a community leader on the First for more or less the same reason — and she, too, has regrets and second-thoughts about her choices. 

She’ll never forget what happened in those tunnels under Ul’dah, or the sight of a dragon unfurling its wings out of the wreckage of the moon. She’ll never be able to stop wondering if this was really the only way. Sometimes, when the Warrior stares off into the distance, Y’shtola wonders if they, too, have the same questions.

Her interventions are small but constant. She reads books on trauma and implements their advice. If she notices the WoL slipping too far into memory, she will lay a gentle hand on their arm or ask them a simple question, just to snap them back to the present. She takes them on outings for sunlight and fresh air, making sure to point out all the moments of joy that happen around them — children who still play, friends who yet laugh, and promises they have to uphold.

Urianger

Urianger isn’t the best at dealing with matters of the heart. He is notoriously secretive and keeps his own emotions close to his chest. It’s a bad habit, he knows, and he’s dismayed to see the WoL falling into the same patterns. But the sooth-sayer is determined to help, so he does the one thing he’s best at: Talk.

He doesn’t ask questions; he tells stories. In the quiet of the night or the mist of early morning, Urianger sits with the sleepless WoL and fills the silence with his quiet, lyrical thoughts. He talks about nothing. About everything. 

Urianger speaks of the First and of his lonely years with the Fae, where spring stretched endlessly around him. He tells stories of the Circle of Knowing — about Louisoix, Papalymo, the real Yda — and the Sharlayans he no longer knows. On the darkest evenings, he speaks of Moenbryda and her silver-bell laugh, and his voice drips with grief.

The Warrior doesn’t say much, but Urianger doesn’t need them to. Listening is good enough for him. He just needs them to know they aren’t alone.

Thancred

If anyone could truly understand what the WoL is going through, it’s Thancred. It was a similar string of regrets, along with his aether-flow complications, that led him to his own gunblade. 

He offers a non-judgmental ear and a sturdy shoulder to cry on, but he won’t try to change their mind or rush them to a conclusion. Words matter little when spoken to someone who isn’t ready to hear them — Thancred knows this well.

But watching the Warrior suffer, hearing the muffled weeping from their bedroll at night… It hurts. It eats at him, because he can’t do anything to fix it. He can’t untangle their emotions for them, or make them forget all the people they’ve lost, just like they couldn’t do it for him.

So, Thancred focuses on what he can do. He hugs them tighter. He reminds them of the friends and allies still standing because of their bravery and self-sacrifice. He sharpens and cleans their weapon alongside his own, so neither will ever be caught unprepared again. Maybe someday, he and the Warrior can hang them up for good.

Estinien

Much like Urianger, Estinien isn’t good with feelings. Unlike Urianger, Estinien isn’t very good at talking, either. This leaves the former Azure Dragoon in a strange predicament — he knows the WoL is going through a hard time and needs to be supported, but he can’t figure out how to do it.

He tried, once, to grit his teeth and explain how he felt on the subject, but instead of saying something like, “You have done so much for so many people, and of course you’re not perfect. Of course there were casualties and failures and mistakes… We were at war, and then we were fighting for the fate of everyone in the entire universe. All of us fought and bled the same, all of us did everything we could do, and you didn’t fail anyone.”

…it came out more like this: “Um– Er– You did just fine, and you shouldn’t worry so much.” They just nodded and gave a noncommittal smile, and Estinien almost facepalmed on the spot. 

After that incident, he went to Tataru and Krile for advice, and was told to “just be there” for them. Unhelpful. But he’s desperate, so the next time the WoL is brooding in the corner, Estinien joins them. They give him a quizzical look, but he just nods, and the pair slips into a comfortable, lingering silence. 

When it’s time to move on again, the Warrior shoots Estinien a knowing look, but it’s not frustration or ire lurking in their eyes. It’s gratitude. Their shoulders are looser as they walk away, and Estinien realizes he actually made them feel a little better just by offering his presence. It was such a small difference, but it was still there. It still mattered. He follows them back to the group with a small smile on his face.

G’raha

It kills G’raha to see the WoL like this — especially when he contrasts the hero he met in Mor Dhona with the one who stands before him now. He knows the full story, everything that happened while he slept in the Tower, but stories don’t compare to seeing the pain etched into the Warrior’s face. 

He’s the most forward with voicing his concerns, not because he disapproves of them changing their job, but because he worries they’re doing it for unhealthy reasons. He tells them flat-out that he thinks they’re taking on too much emotional burden.

No matter the WoL’s reaction to that conversation, G’raha will be understanding. Before anything else, he’s their friend, and he’s got their back. Even if they insist they’re fine and tell him not to worry, he won’t be deterred. If anything, it only makes him more determined to check in on them.

G’raha drops by frequently, asking how the Warrior is feeling and if there’s anything they need. Food, company, anything. If the WoL ever mentions nightmares, he starts bringing calming teas to their room in the evenings. “Extra strength,” he tells them. “Guaranteed a restful night. At least, that’s what it said on the sign.”

When they accept his offering, G’raha hopes they notice the way he smiles. He hopes they realize how important they are.

The Twins

Putting these two together, because I feel they would have pretty similar reactions to the WoL’s obvious angst. In fact, Alphinaud and Alisaie would probably talk about it between themselves as soon as they noticed, before even mentioning it to the other Scions.

The Leveilleur twins come to the conclusion that the Warrior needs some R&R. After being dragged to some La Noscean hot springs and painted with “healing mud”, the WoL has to admit they do feel a little more relaxed. That’s enough of a victory for the twins, who proceed to take the WoL back on a weekly basis.

Between visits, Alisaie challenges the Warrior to card games or contests to see who can name more clouds in the sky, as if trying to keep their mind too busy to be troubled with the past. Even if the WoL is feeling sullen, they can’t tell her ‘no’. She laughs enough for both of them, anyway.

Alphinaud is more reserved, as usual, but he still finds ways to coax a smile out of the WoL. His favorite method is to draw a silly picture and slide it wordlessly across the table. Usually it’s a hyper-realistic portrait of one of their friends, only dressed in some ridiculous outfit or doing something absurd. Once, he passed the WoL a sketch of Estinien wearing a harlequin catsuit and managed to get a snort out of them.

The twins’ enthusiasm is infectious, but sometimes the WoL can’t help but see it as a reminder of how young they really are. How they’ve already lost so much and risked even more. The Warrior’s heart twinges protectively. They’d rather die than let anything happen to those kids. So much for the “healing mud.”

[rowanul-tyr]

put it in quotations

so!!! my friend @lysanderfels wrote something very sweet of their boy lysander and my baby rowan recently over here (read it!!!! lev's writing is so good!!!!) and i had something else bumping around in my brain for rowan as the non-wol for lysander. i ended up with the below!! hope yall like it <3

--

He’s not exactly sure of what to do with himself, now that he’s settled.

Which is a very approximate feeling, all things considered. In the quiet moments of his day, Rowan sometimes wonders if he’ll float off the ground and into the glimmering sky above, completely untethered. He feels it most keenly when attempting to sleep, when standing at the Exarch’s shoulder as the Crystarium’s settlement council drones on and on in their regular civics meetings. The notes he takes physically are abysmal, so he is grateful that he can at least remember each word said.

Settled is a relative term, as the out of body moments are frequent. So are the times when his mind drifts back home, to the other Scions who must be overcome with worry. To his friend, whose arrival in Norvrandt is imminent, or so the Exarch claims. Rowan tries not to dwell on it, focusing instead on the duty Captain Lyna has tasked him with.

The Exarch is as highly secretive as Y’shtola had warned, though Rowan certainly has his suspicions about more than a few things that have caught his attention. But instead of giving voice to the questions balanced delicately on his tongue, he simply watches as the Exarch pores over tome after tome, sometimes running to various parts of the city to fetch things for the hooded figure. And sometimes, when the captain asks it of him, Rowan chastises the city’s leader for missing a meal or for not resting.

And while the Exarch is certainly decent company (their idle conversations are enjoyable), Rowan wishes he was doing more than standing in place. He should be busy doing something--anything--else, rather than holding his position as the days go on. He often wishes that one of the other Scions stranded in the First would visit the Crystarium more than they do, but he recognizes that they’re all busy in their corners of the world, and the one he’d consider his closest friend mistrusts the secretive Exarch. And Rowan wouldn’t want to suddenly be so selfish. So his mind wanders and more and more he wonders if this is all just a dream.

It’s a poor one, all things considered.

He’s seen two summers in the First--one as a lowly guard for the Crystarium and then one as the Exarch’s aide--before things stop standing still for the most part.

Rowan had, at the Exarch’s request, been delivering a package to the Ostall Imperative and as he had not been given leave to use one of the Crystarium’s mounts it was a longer trip than usual. So it is late in the day (relatively speaking, of course) when he passes by Captain Lyna’s post to report in, and he chances to hear the tail end of the conversation she’s having with one of the men stationed with her.

“...last of these guests of his, I hope.” Lyna lets out a weary breath, waving away the guard before Rowan reaches her. Her ears twitch as she catches the sound of his footsteps and turns fully to him. “Speak of the sinner--Sergeant Ul’tyr, you’ve returned. The Exarch’s delivery, was it?”

Rowan clenches his fists tightly, saluting her. “Aye, captain. As our lord instructed.”

“Good.” Lyna watches him for a moment, before letting out a breath and closing her eyes. Whenever she gets this sort of look on her face, Rowan can expect her to speak more frankly than usual--she’d worn it when he had been given his special assignment, and the duties it entailed, and even more when she would speak with him about her concerns regarding the strangers who continued to turn up on the Crystarium’s doorstep. So it’s no surprise when Lyna goes on to say, “I assume the gentleman we welcomed to the city is perhaps a friend of yours, much like the others.”

This piques Rowan’s interest, naturally. There was only one person that he was anticipating the arrival of, but there had been no movement on that front--or, at least, he knew another summoning would happen soon, but Rowan hadn’t anticipated it being today.

He tries to hide his interest as he says, “Perhaps, though I may need a description to be sure.”

Lyna crosses her arms, shifting her weight to one hip. “Elven. Long, dark hair, pale skin.”

Rowan feels his heart leap into his throat--Lysander. There was no one else it could be. “But--he was here? Not in the city?”

The captain hums. “He came from the forest beyond, looking somewhat lost, and I stopped him here at the gate. And the Exarch came hurrying along to usher him into the Crystarium.”

“I…I see.” Rowan frowns, trying to puzzle out this information. This seemed to be different from what had happened to himself and the others; Rowan had been mentally logging the Exarch’s progress as the days went on, but he hadn’t realized the Exarch would try again today. Perhaps he wanted to give Lysander privacy if it once again went awry. Or perhaps…perhaps Lysander had made it to the First properly. After a moment of thought, Rowan offers Captain Lyna another salute. “I will take my leave, captain, to return to my post with the Exarch.”

“Please do, sergeant. And please let him know that I wish to have a word with him this evening.”

“Yes, captain.” The words are hardly out of his mouth before Rowan’s turned sharply on his heel and stepped out toward the Crystarium. In moments he’s sprinting harder than he has all day.

The Exarch is returning to the Tower when Rowan reaches the Exedra, a slight spring in his step. He turns as he hears Rowan slowing his gait, breathing heavily when he finally comes to a stop.

“Is it--” Rowan manages between gasps of air.

“It is.” The Exarch holds up a hand, trying to calm the guard a little. “But he’s only just gotten his room--”

Rowan doesn’t let the Exarch finish, instead taking off toward the housing district at a sprint once again and ignoring the Exarch calling after him.

The master of suites at the Pendants--who Rowan had befriended shortly after being given his own quarters there--seems surprised to find the red-haired Miqo’te so assertive in his request, but he gives Rowan the room number without much fuss when Rowan says the newest tenant is a friend. So he finds himself in front of the unassuming door not but a few minutes later.

He knocks on the door, struggling to get his breathing under control when Lysander appears in the doorway.

Lysander tilts his head, leaning forward. After a moment he asks, “Rowan?”

The relief that rushes through Rowan’s body leaves him almost weak in the knees, and he smiles widely for the first time in ages. He straightens, and the only answer he gives is pushing the door wide enough to throw his arms around Lysander’s chest.

“H-Hey--”

“You’re here!” Rowan can’t contain the elation in his tone. Maybe it’s the boredom of his post, maybe it’s how much he feels like he’s been at a standstill, but he can’t help but be thrilled. “Gods, it’s good to see you.”

When Rowan finally releases Lysander, the Elezen is still blinking at him, confusion etched on his brow. After a moment, Lysander says, “Did you…I mean--you look different.”

“Oh!” Rowan nods. “Right--I’d forgotten. I cut my hair, among other things. It’s…”

“The Crystal Exarch said it had been two summers for you here…”

“Yes, it has been. And I wasn't liking the braid once I got settled.” Rowan lets out a breath, lips curving into a lop-sided smile. “I'm happy that you're here, though. Properly here.”

Something crosses Lysander’s face--a mix of unpleasant emotions flickering across his features as fast as quicksilver--and he averts his gaze. “Right…”

Rowan hesitates for a moment, not entirely sure what to make of the strange mood Lysander is in. He shifts nervously on his feet, rubbing the back of his head. “I--I’m sorry. I barged right in when I heard you were here, and right when you’re still adjusting.”

“It’s alright.” Lysander tilts his head, expression turning both thoughtful and just the slightest bit morose. “...Just. You were called only a few weeks ago, for me. So I have to get used to the idea that it’s been two years for you--along with everything else I’ve found out today.”

Rowan blinks, brows drawing together on his forehead. He’d almost forgotten the difference in the flow of time between Eorzea and Norvrandt, even though he had been present many times when the Exarch used the crystal pane in the Ocular to see current events in the Source. It was so distant now, and hard to reconcile.

It hadn’t occurred to him that it might be the same in the reverse, not really. And he knew quite well how Lysander was under stress like this.

Rowan opens and closes his mouth once or twice, struggling to find something to say. It was like something had suddenly built itself between he and Lysander--or maybe it was there all along, and Rowan had just been too blind to notice it.

And suddenly he remembers the way things had been when Rowan had been called, and he sees he was much more eager than he probably needed to be.

His ears twitch, laying a little bit flat against his head. He nods. “Still, I apologize. I…I should let you get some rest.” Rowan backs toward the door, looking up to meet Lysander’s gaze. “My room is below yours a floor, and towards the far side of the building. The manager can tell you the number--if you feel the need to drop by.”

“Alright.” Lysander does grace him with a gentle smile, something softening in his gaze. “It is good to see you, old friend.”

Rowan feels the smile coming back to his face, and he nods. “Sleep well.” He says, slipping out of the door and back down the hallway to the Crystarium proper.

A few minutes later, Rowan returns to the Ocular to find the Exarch facing his crystal pane and surveying the landscape of Amh Araeng. He turns when Rowan enters, nodding as Rowan salutes him.

“I’m sure he was quite happy to see you.” The Exarch says, smile soft. “Given how you have described your friendship with him, I’m certain Lysander was relieved to see you hale and hearty.”

Rowan nods, trying to hide the heavy feeling in his chest. “Aye, I think it put him at ease, at least a little. As for your package to the Imperative--”

“Captain Lyna informed me it was delivered. Thank you, sergeant.”

Rowan nods, trying not to let his mind wander as the Exarch launches into talking through the next stages of what would save Norvrandt, now that Hydaelyn’s Champion was in the First.

He knew how much Lysander hated being the Warrior of Light. Maybe hate is a strong word for it, but Rowan could tell that certain kinds of stress were not things Lysander liked being burdened with on a regular basis. And Rowan--perhaps to his own detriment--had done what he could to help shoulder the burden. He wasn’t chosen by Hydaelyn, but he wanted to make enough of a difference anyway.

He did his best to not burden people with things--after all, how could Rowan be someone Lysander could count on to be a reminder of more peaceful days if all Rowan did was bring up yet more stressors? Lay his own burdens on someone who had enough to deal with as it was? Lysander had Aymeric (and perhaps a certain Doman lord, if Rowan remembered it correctly) so it was not as though Rowan was the sole friend who could be an escape from being Hydaelyn’s chosen. But Rowan had certainly been there the longest, and had not needed to let anyone in, really. At least not that people knew, except for Estinien (and even then that had not been intentional). And the Exarch seemed to be prying more lately, but Rowan wasn’t sure what to make of that.

Lysander seemed to appreciate everything Rowan did, at least after the bloody banquet in Ul’Dah. Before then, Rowan wasn’t sure how much Lysander could recall of any given event. Rowan hadn’t ever minded, content to follow almost like a shadow. He was never one for the limelight anyway.

He watches, standing beside Captain Lyna, as Lysander parts the Light above them in Holminster Switch. And he does what he’s always done best when citizens of the Crystarium ask if he saw the Warrior of Darkness’s face when night was returned--he deflects. Keeps the attention on something else. And feels the weight of so many gazes on his back.

As he stands at the Exarch’s shoulder the morning that Lysander and the twins agree to rescue Minfilia, he thinks back to the startled reaction his own arrival in the First had caused--the confused and concerned way the Exarch had welcomed him. And he thinks over Lysander’s off hand comment about the time separated being so vastly different. And Rowan doesn’t think he can say it.

He throws himself into the preparations that Captain Lyna has him assist with, trying to push everything to the back recesses of his mind the way he usually did. And at the very least, chasing after Thancred and the others on the path to Il Mheg serves as a break from the spiral his mind was going down.

Rowan isn’t used to traveling clothes now, and a part of him misses the uniform he’s gotten so used to wearing. But the Exarch apparently chose well, as everything fits him like a glove.

The group pauses in Lydha Lran for the night before striking out for Urianger’s residence. And while he certainly feels the need for sleep weighing down his body, Rowan’s mind is racing. So he slips from the dark room he is sharing with Thancred and Lysander, gracefully jumps from ledge to ledge until he is at the tip of the roof of the village’s main building. He sits with a whump, staring out over the flowered hills with eyes squinting against the Light above.

This is where Lysander finds him in the wee morning hours. Rowan hadn’t seen him leave the building or round the corner to reach the roof, and his ears only twitch when he hears the footsteps behind him. He shifts, making room for Lysander to join him.

“...I’m glad to have you with me here.” Lysander says eventually. “I was wondering if you would be forever stuck to the Exarch’s side.”

Rowan huffs a tiny laugh. “I know it seems unlikely given how little I’ve been able to get away, but the intention was for me to be there only until you arrived. Or, at least that was the Exarch’s plan.”

Lysander’s mouth twitches with the ghost of a frown. “He certainly likes to plan things out.”

“He does.” Rowan finally glances over, briefly. “...He means well, I will say in his defense. Even when he’s infuriatingly secretive.”

Lysander lets out a breath. “You say that, but still…”

Rowan can’t help the snort that’s pulled from his throat. “You and Y’shtola are really cut from similar cloth.” He mumbles, grateful when Lysander either doesn’t hear or decides not to comment.

They fall into another bout of silence, which for once Rowan doesn’t want to break. He’s gotten even more quiet here in the First, he’s realized, prone to holding his tongue even on things he used to speak up about.

“...Has it been okay?” Lysander asks. When Rowan turns and gives him a confused frown, he adds, “Your post, I mean. Are you just���standing there with the Exarch all day?”

“...Mostly.” Rowan lets out a breath. “You know--” And he stops himself, not sure the train of thought was something he should really say. It edged too closely to something Rowan was forever reluctant to voice.

“Know what?”

“...Nevermind.”

Lysander makes a displeased noise, and when Rowan turns he finds the Elezen pursing his lips and giving him a sour look.

Rowan’s eye dart briefly away, almost nervous. “...What?”

Lysander mulls over his thoughts for a long moment, mouth opening and staying ajar before hesitantly saying, “Rowan…you can tell me what’s on your mind. If you want.”

Rowan’s brows draw together instantly. “Huh?”

“You always were asking if I was alright, what was on my mind, before--before you were called.” Lysander shifts, tilting his head. “And when you were standing with the Exarch those meetings where we discussed saving the First…you looked like your mind was a million miles away.”

Rowan swallows, turning away. As much confirmation as anything of the statement.

“...Are you okay?”

That draws out a slightly derisive laugh from Rowan’s throat. More harsh than Rowan would want it to be, really, and he’s pretty sure Lysander must be taken aback by the sound.

“Given that the other Scions and I are practically nothing more than rather well solidified shades, that’s a relative term.” Rowan wets his lips, knowing he sounded much more angry than he meant to be. “...And we have other things to worry about.”

“Rowan.”

“It’s true--we’ve a Calamity to avert, the state of our souls doesn’t matter as much as that right now.” Rowan lets out a tiny breath. “The rest can be--I don’t know, kicked down the road for the moment.”

Lysander clicks his tongue, and looks more irritated when Rowan turns to him. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Rowan frowns, sighing through his nose.

“We didn’t talk as much after Alphinaud went off to Garlemald--and even then, I hardly saw you during the peace talks in Doma.” Lysander’s expression softens a little. “With you and the others gone…I’ve been worried. And--thinking a lot myself. You really do a lot for me, and I hardly know much more than the others about you in particular. …You can tell me if something’s on your mind, you know. Or if something’s happened.”

Rowan studies his friend’s face for a long moment, expression falling a tiny bit. After a pause, he says at last, “...You don’t need to worry about my troubles in addition to your own. I’ll be fine.”

“But where’s the fairness in you taking on so much of my burdens if you aren’t open with me?” Lysander pushes. “I’m not so delicate that I can’t handle things on my own, I don’t need to be coddled.”

“I know--”

“And yet you refuse to leave me be. You are quite the mother hen, you know.” Lysander smirks as Rowan’s ears go back and his tail swipes back and forth in irritation.

Another silence passes between them as Rowan wrestles with himself. With the thoughts he tries so hard to keep from the forefront of his mind.

“...It’s hard for me.” Rowan says quietly. “You…are the first person in a very long time who I could count on never vanishing. So I don’t know how to, I think. Talk about it.”

Lysander doesn’t answer for a moment, before at last replying, “Well…know that I’m here when you’re ready, I suppose.”

Rowan finds a hesitant smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and he nods. He doesn’t exactly feel that ready for it, but…

“I’ll try.”

[ Several weeks down the line, they’re taking a small break in the middle of the day in the shade of a tree in Rak’tika.

Rowan has said a little more about his state of mind--how he felt bearing a surname that pointed to him being the Warrior of Darkness in the fae tongue, how the Exarch hadn’t known who he was when Rowan was called--and he feels a little better about being open.

He lets out a breath during a lull in their conversation, and says without thinking, “I slept with Estinien.”

Lysander makes an unflattering noise, and when Rowan looks over in concern, there’s water dribbling from his mouth and nose. After a moment to regain his composure, Lysander sucks in a breath and whispers, “Please don’t say such jokes while I’m drinking again, please.”

“...But it’s not a joke?”

Lysander stares at him.

“When I was helping Tataru in Kugane during the peace talks, he passed through town. And, well.” Rowan shrugs, feeling his cheeks color. “Things happened.”

“...Really?”

“Yes, really.”

Lysander frowns. “But Estinien--”

Rowan feels his face burning. “I know, but it’s hard to explain why, alright?!”

“...I had no idea he was even in Kugane.”

“You were too busy mooning over a certain Doman lord.”

Lysander shoves at Rowan’s shoulder, blushing furiously and trying to hide a smile. Rowan only throws his head back and laughs. ]

[ The two keep pace as they walk from the step leading up to the Crystal Tower to the Crystarium’s marketplace in silence.

Eventually, Lysander leans over a little and says in a hushed tone, “So, you and the Exarch--”

Rowan’s face is apple red in an instant. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”

“I’m just curious!”

“I understand, but it’s really nothing serious--”

“I’ve seen him staring at you like he’s forgotten that he doesn’t wear his hood anymore lately, I was half wondering if you two were already together.”

“Together?!”

“Well, I mean, he’s been staring. And with your post as his aide and personal guard, and how you treated him after we found him in the Tempest--”

Rowan makes a frustrated noise, certain he might as well just melt into the ground now. “D-Don’t you have your own relationship issues to worry about?”

“Now thankfully resolved, but that’s not what’s important anyway! You’ve been making fun for ages about what’s happening with me, and here you are--”

“By the Twelve shut up before someone hears you--!” ]

[ayakamizu]

FFXIV Write 2023 Day 15 - Portentous

Portentous: Adjective. Marvelous; amazing; prodigious OR ominously significant or indicative. Characters: Ayaka Mizushima (WoL), Hancock Fitzgerald Expansion: Endwalker Rating: G Notes: Takes place sometime after my Dowdy prompt! The same spoilers for that regarding Mount Rokkon apply here as well!

Ayaka can say with certainty that she wasn’t expecting the lamp to teleport them away from the storerooms—let alone the entire temple.

As a seasoned adventurer, she should have seen it coming and warned Hancock that there was no way this puzzle they uncovered wasn’t going to lead them somewhere. She’s been through this enough to see it coming. Truthfully, she was expecting to find them in some other part of the building they couldn’t access before.

Except when she followed after Hancock and opened her eyes to a land covered in mist and devoid of color, she could honestly admit she was a bit surprised.

“This feels ominous,” came Hancock’s voice from ahead. He was looking around, peering into the fog. “It appears the path that lies ahead is the only way out.”

That caused Ayaka to turn to see what was behind her. She sighed at the high stone cliffs blocking their way and realized that Hancock was, unfortunately, right. “We’d best be careful then… Who knows what spirit could be lurking.”

“Sound advice, my friend,” Hancock said, slowly making his way towards what appeared to be the stepping stones. As Ayaka took in their surroundings, she thought even the water looked still and murky. She sent a prayer to whatever kami could hear her to keep her from having to fight a monster lurking in the water. Ayaka really didn’t want to get her clothes wet today.

“You know…” Hancock started, pausing on one of the steps. “The monks informed me about the rumors of a sanctuary somewhere in the mountain… The way they described it made it sound more grand than this.”

Ayaka hummed, taking in the washed out scenery and frowned. Something about this place felt… off? She wondered if it was mostly the fog that made this secluded area more unnerving, but something in the back of her mind kept feeling like something was watc—

It was then that a roar shattered the tranquil air and the fog began to… move? Ayaka swore it seemed like the fog was moving and, when she looked over at Hancock’s startled expression, she realized that yes, it was moving.

“Behind me,” Ayaka ordered, drawing her rapier and pointing it towards the swirling mass forming in the clearing before him. From the dense fog, she could see a pair of red eyes staring at them. “I think we found the source of this fog.”

“Smoke,” Hancock corrected, pointing to the large pipe the beast was holding. “It would appear the smoke covering the area comes from that.”

‘An enenra then,’ Ayaka thought, pursing her lips as she tried to recall the stories her grandmother told her over a late summer bonfile. She didn’t think they were normally hostile, but as Ayaka was coming to find out, the corruption of the temple was making far too many spirits behave erratically.

As the beast gave another roar, Ayaka drew closer towards their arena.

[voidedleylines]

FFXIV Write Day 19: Weal

In which the WoL recovers. Musing on old scars.

Enjoy!

Rating: G || No CWs || Post-EW Setting

By now she’s used to getting hit. It’s rare that it’s ever hard enough to leave a mark, but when it does it doesn’t go away easily. Though some of her more stubborn welts and bruises come from running into tables or bed frames, which makes for a fun story.

She remembers the first time she fought a voidsent. She wasn’t any older than ten and it got the jump on her. Slashed her right across the eye, leaving the faintest line still today. She remembers the rage she felt igniting inside her after the attack and how it flowed through her body and out her fingertips. Some around her gasped in horror, as others murmured in impressed tones. That was the last night she saw her parents, and sometimes when she looks in a mirror for too long she can almost remember what they looked like.

It’s been a long time since then and she’s gotten a lot more scars. Most hidden, some internal. She opens her eyes slowly and it takes her a few seconds to reorient herself. She’s back in her bed at the Enclave, recovering, slower than she’d like, from her most recent spar at the end of the universe. Her hands are mostly back to normal, but her back still feels wrong. She can’t sit up for longer than twenty minutes at a time and she’s out of breath by the time she’s able to reposition. On top of everything, she’s disconnected from her magic, and that’s what makes her feel the most empty.

She hears footsteps approaching and she sees Hien out of the corner of her eye. She smiles and tries to sit up but the pain has other ideas. She lets out a yell and Hien’s quick to gently help her back down. “No no don’t get up,” he says in a soft voice. “I just came to check on you.”

She smiles and gently takes one of his hands still holding onto her shoulder and kisses his wrist. “I’m okay,” she says, voice shaky and cracked.

He smiles tightly and slowly takes a seat on the bed, trying his best not to jostle. Guilt and pity is at home on his face, though he’s trying his best to hide it. She’s been back for a few days now, but they’ve probably seen each other, awake and alert, for a total of three hours since. She does not blame him, there’s nothing to blame. It’s the way of things when you’re the leader of a rebuilding nation. Maybe one day they’ll both be able to fuck off, even for just a few hours, but that’s not today, or anytime soon.

There’s not much to be said, and truthfully she’s too tired to speak, so they just stare at one another as she listens to the far away sounds of the fountain nearby. It makes her eyes heavy and she feels them closing. Hien laughs and squeezes the hand still holding hers. She tries to protest as he leans down and kisses her forehead, and then gently the scar over her eye. “I’ll be back soon,” he whispers.

He gets up from the bed and she hears him hesitate another moment before his footsteps fade out of the room. Her skin is alight with pain as she falls back into sleep, but she feels calm, as sparks of magic return to where they once were.

[inkedinfantasy]

17 - During a confession (for the kisseroos)

(kiss prompts list)

thanks for the ask!! I've been posting a lot of rowan and g'raha for the past week, so I decided to do this one for n'mhaya! this is part of a larger piece I'll (hopefully) be able to finish one day.

notes for this one: n'mhaya is a non-WOL OC; this is a spin on the scion inn room visit scene from endwalker

N’mhaya paced to and fro across her room, restless, anxious, irritated. The forum’s announcement had put her on edge. Evacuating the whole of the star sounded like an impossibly massive undertaking, and yet so did the prospect of finding some way to stop whatever force would bring the Final Days upon them.

It was late, and there was nothing to do but rest and wait for morning for the time being, and she was slowly going mad in her idleness. Sleep was out of the question while nervous energy still boiled inside her.

There was a sudden knock at her door, and her ears flicked involuntarily at the break in the pattern of silence she’d been mired in for several bells now. She breezed across the room and pulled the door open to reveal Estinien. “I can feel you thinking from down the hall,” he said. “Might I come in?”

In lieu of an answer, she stepped aside. He entered, and she closed the door behind him.

She crossed to the table, clearing away a neglected cup of tea just to have something to do with her hands. Estinien followed her, taking a seat in one of the chairs as she emptied the cup into the sink.

“I would appreciate the company,” she admitted. She paused, and then, with a note of quiet apology in her voice, “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“It’s no trouble. It’s better I were here than back in my chambers listening to the twins bicker about tomorrow’s plans the whole night long.” He shifted in his seat. “Gods know I’ve spent enough time away from the people who rely on me.”

“I don’t think that’s entirely fair,” N’mhaya said. “Relying on people is…difficult. Has always been difficult for me. But I’ve known you long enough trust you’ll be there when you’re needed.”

His posture shifted again, sitting up stiffly, his hands in his lap as his expression grew pensive. “I am glad to hear it, from you in particular. Though…I admit sometimes I still wonder if it will ever feel like enough.”

The admission was quiet, painfully bare in its honesty.

“Enough…?”

“To make up for the rest of it. I’ve hurt people. Hurt you.”

She saw his gaze focusing on the part of her shoulder exposed by her shirt, tracing over the gnarled, half-concealed scar tissue where his lance had dug in.

“I did that to you. That’s something you’ll always have to live with,” he said quietly.

“No.” Her tone was firm and clear as she turned to face him. “This,” she said, pulling the collar of her shirt aside to trace over her scar, “was meant to be a fatal wound. Nidhogg aimed for the heart. Nidhogg did not stay his hand. You did that, Estinien, with every part of you that was fighting back. And I can live with that quite happily.”

He blinked at her, stunned into silence.

She covered the distance between them in three quick strides, taking his face in her hands and staring down at him determinedly.

“Estinien, I trust you more than anyone. And I don’t care how many times I need to tell you until you believe it.”

Silence fell, but the moment remained charged with some electric emotion that N’mhaya didn’t dare to name. She could feel his face warm under her hands, his eyes locked on hers, spellbound. She wondered briefly what he saw reflected there, what raw vulnerability he always seemed to coax out of her.

His gaze dipped to her mouth. Her breath caught in her chest.

“Mhaya…” he murmured, his voice low and rough. She tilted her head ever so slightly, and he leaned forward almost unconsciously, his hands fisting in his lap, but he made no move to touch her, not yet.

She exhaled all at once, leaning forward and bracing one knee on the chair as she kissed him. His arms came up to wrap around her waist just as smoothly, pulling her closer. It felt familiar and natural, as if they had done this a hundred times before, laced with the urgency of a long-awaited first kiss.

She pulled back the barest fraction to take a breath, hands sliding back to tangle in his hair. He paused, still holding her, his eyes full of undisguised want.

“I hope you weren’t planning on returning to your room tonight,” she said.

He huffed a small laugh as he pulled her back in. “Not a chance.”

[xiv-wolfram]

Empathy - Comic Script

Prequel - Age 25

Roughly 15 years before the events of A Realm Reborn, Wolfram (the future Warrior of Light) and Raubahn Aldynn have been together for a couple weeks.

Catch up on my WoL Comics (Chronological List)

Part 1

Wolf and Rau walking around the footfalls of Western Thanalan talking. Narrator - "15 years before the events of ARR. Wolfram (cook and future Warrior of Light) and gladiator Raubahn Aldynn have been dating for a few weeks."

Wolf talking excitedly, gesturing as he walks - "-so you cover the onions to make sure they cook without browning. Otherwise the sauce will have a bitter taste." Rau smiling.

Fighting monsters. Wolf rushes one of those crab creatures and stabs it through the eye. 

Rau watching him, beaming. Thought - 'Wow, he really is skilled with a blade. Certainly could be a gladiator if he still wanted it…though I don't know if I could handle seeing him hurt.'

They're walking again. Wolf talking excitedly, gesturing with hands - "Area rugs can be utilized in an open concept to help define individual spaces. " Rau smiling, nods, thought - 'I see he learned a lot growing up decorating inn rooms.'

Fighting monsters. Rau jumps up and slices through a vulture with a downward slash. Wolf thought - 'It's amazing to see him fighting up close like this. I have the best seat in the Coliseum right here…heh.'

They continue walking. Wolf talking excitedly, beaming - “And those that didn't flee to Gyr Abania settled in Thanalan, founding Belah'dia, which eventually broke into Sil'dih and Ul'dah …I’m speaking a lot aren’t I? Usually someone stops me by now.” Rau grins, thought - 'He's adorable.'

Rau beams - "I love hearing you speak so passionately. And besides, you're voice is drawing enemies to us which has been quite enjoyable. I’m excited to finally see you fighting." Wolf smiles smugly - “I’m glad to be met with your approval. I haven’t fought in front of a professional before.”

Fighting monsters. Back to back power couple pose. 

Kissing in the water against a rock. 

Zoomed in shot. Smiling at each other.

Rau grins - "I must say…fighting together like this is doing something for me. I uh…" Wolf grins - "Oh, I'm aware… and the feeling is mutual."

Rau confused, steps back - "Alright now, that's several times that you have mentioned feeling or knowing what I want. What do you mean by that?"

Wolf embarrassed - "Oh…I'm sorry I've not had to explain it before. My family already knew…let me think."

Rau raises an eyebrow in confusion. Thought - 'Huh?!'

Wolf uncomfortable - "So, since I was very young I've been able to sense people's emotions. Not everyone and not always. My grandmother said I'm an empath. That the gift shows up in our family sometimes. …I'm sorry I'm sure this sounds very odd."

Rau surprised - "Oh! I've heard of similar gifts yet had never met anyone with them. So … do you know what I'm feeling right now?"

Wolf smiles - "I believe mild curiosity? And you're quite tired as well. It's difficult to read if the emotion isn't strong. It's also stronger the closer I am with someone. So I usually have an idea with you but I couldn't just walk up to someone on the street and sense them."

Rau awkward, light blush - "So then is that how you um… knew what I wanted in bed?"

Wolf smiles, blushing - "Aye…some of it. I knew you wanted me to take control because of it. Is that a problem? I could understand if it feels like an invasion of privacy. If you prefer I can stop doing it to you. I just… wanted to get things right and make you happy…"

Rau smiles comforting - "No, if this is a part of who you are then I shall love it along with the rest of you. Besides… I often struggle to express myself properly or ask for what I want. This could be a good thing."

Wolf beams - "I must admit I was a bit nervous to tell you. Thank you for accepting me as I am."

Rau holds him. Wolf's head on his chest, turned to the side. They're smiling.

 Rau smirks, looking down at him - "So…what am I feeling now?" Wolf grins - "I think it's about time you showed me your apartment."

Part 2

Rau’s apartment (build set. Small Ul'dah studio/open concept. Minimal.). Rau gestures around - “Well, as you can see it’s not much but -”

Wolf beaming - “It's nice! Cozy, clean, and most importantly feels very 'you'. I love it!”

Rau surprised - “Oh? I’d been a bit embarrassed to have you over. Given how upscale your inn room is…”

Wolf blushes - “Ah.. that…” Rau curious - “What?”

Wolf looking away uncomfortably - “Well, I must confess I picked a fancy room as I wanted you to be comfortable.The regular rooms were quite bare but would have suited me fine.”

Rau beams and caresses Wolf's cheek - “Ah, Wolf you didn't have to do that. Although the gesture is appreciated.”

Wolf beams - “It’s not a big deal. Besides, I’m getting a good rate now that I work there. And I’ll admit having a private bath has worked out nicely for us.”

Rau laughs - "Indeed it has! I suppose the other guests would object to our use of the public bath." Wolf, grins, looking off dreamily, thought - 'That does sound exciting though… Maybe I can convince him some night…'

Wolf refocuses, looking at the open kitchen - "The kitchen is also quite nice… I can tell you're hungry. I'd love to cook you dinner here after."

Rau smirks. Thought - 'He knows when I'm hungry, horny, or tired. This will take some getting used to but his gift is strangely relaxing to me.' Says - "That sounds like a fine idea. After what?" Wolf smug - "Well, after you give me a tour of that shower of course."

Rau grins and picks him up - "Ah, yes we do need to clean up after all that fighting." Wolf winks - "Yeah…that's why."

They kiss as Rau carries Wolf to the shower.

Catch up on my WoL Comics (Chronological List)

[bayonetbunny]

So I realize I haven't posted anything in awhile lol. So have a little one shot between my bunny WoL and Thancred, that may or may not make it into my longer fic lol. Set sometime after the Ifrit fight but before the Sylph Management quests.

pairing: thancred waters x viera!warrior of light (Saryu Eventide)

word count: 955

rating: g (pure fluff)

He catches her nosing through the kitchens that night. 

Saryu doesn't suffer insomnia very frequently, so when sleep eludes her this night, she doesn't know what to do with the wakefulness. Daenne is the opposite, and the fact that he is asleep means she will not under any circumstances wake him. No, this is a problem for her to solve on her own, and that means being out of the room if nothing else. She slips from the room with barely a creak of the door and pads softly through the quiet halls of the Waking Sands. Her belly gurgles insistently. Kitchen it is. 

The kitchen is one of the few rooms with a window, the glass panes set just above the pier. Moonlight pours in, washing the space in silvery blue, and she's glad as she's rather forgotten a lantern. It's while she's kneeling on the counter, rifling through the well stocked cabinets that she hears something.

Or rather, someone.

"Ah, and here I thought we might have a mouse problem," says a low male voice, just beyond the purview of the cabinet. 

Saryu yelps in surprise, and it's only the fact that she holds onto the shelf that she doesn't fall from her perch. She swings the cabinet door shut, to see Thancred, a bemused smile on his face.

"My apologies. Have I startled you, my sweet?"

She pouts, returning to her cabinet foraging. "No, I always like to yelp once or twice while getting a midnight snack."

"Interesting. Does it improve the flavor?"

She snorts, rolling her eyes though he can't see. "Oh yes, it gives a certain lightness to it. Infuses it with a touch of air if you can believe it."

He chuckles, and she listens to the swish of his clothes as he moves to another cabinet, taking up a rifling of his own. A moment later, she curses, unable to find what she is looking for. She feels a tap on her shoulder, and closes the cabinet to see Thancred giving her a knowing grin.

"Looking for this, silly rabbit?" 

He holds a jar shaped like a spriggan, its curled ears serving as a lid. The smell of cookies, faint but true, wafts from it. She lets out a small cheer and snatches the cookie jar, letting her feet dangle as she sits on the counter to eat them. Thancred retrieves what appears to be pretzels for himself, and leans his hip against the counter as he tucks in to his chosen snack.

They eat like this, in companionable silence for several minutes.

When her stomach has stopped its protests, she glances at him, the moonlight washing him in soft white. He's not in sleep clothes, but properly dressed. Had he…just returned? There's no smell of alcohol on him, so he likely hasn't been drinking, or at least not much. There are bruise-like circles under his eyes, and he looks just a bit disheveled; were it anyone else but Thancred she wouldn't have thought anything of it. But his hair looks less like he's brushed it and more like he's simply run his hands through it, his tunic just a bit askance. He's running himself ragged, she thinks. Her heart lurches, thinking how alike he and her brother are, always, always taking on ever more burden on behalf of others. 

"A portrait lasts longer, you know."

She blinks, ears twitching as he takes a casual bite of his pretzels. He's looking at her now, brown eyes dark like the bed of a river. 

"So it may," she says slowly, and now that he's said it, she wants to draw him. "But you don't sit still long enough."

His eyes widen just a fraction, and he laughs, dry and humorless.

"There's no rest for the wicked, I'm afraid."

"Then they should make an exception," she replied sourly. He searches her gaze for a moment, and suddenly he's in front of her, pressing against her knees, hands splayed on either side of her. 

"Are you worried about me?"

Saryu swallows as a searing heat spreads from cheek to chest. Standing this close, he smells of the pretzels he was eating, and spice, and the cool air of Vesper Bay at night. She's tempted to lean into him; he's warm and her skin prickles with cold. Thancred stares at her, gaze soft as he takes in her face, her neck, her ears. He draws a finger across her nose, tracing the line of freckles there, and then down her neck, and over her collar, and gods, but it’s like levin through her. She shivers at the touch, at the smoldering look in his eyes. Why must he look at her like that? It sets her heart to racing a malm a minute, and she thinks she must say something to break the tension building between them—

"Do you think," he murmurs, taking a silvery lock of her hair between his fingers, "that the sky misses you at night?"

She blinks, clears her throat a few times, trying to find her voice. "W-what?"

“I should think it might,” he continues, and tugs that lock of hair, the brief, sharp pain eliciting a small gasp from her. “Though I must begrudge any attempts it may make to have you return. I rather like having the stars here in front of me.”

Oh. She forgets to breathe for a moment, and she thinks, no, she wants—

A loud clatter; she’s dropped the cookie jar, which she had forgotten she was holding. The sound breaks the strange air about them. Thancred breathes out slowly through his nose and steps back, and she nearly cries out at the loss of his warmth. He gives her a small, tired smile.

“You should get some rest, silly rabbit. I have a feeling the days ahead will prove to be busy.” And then he bids her good night, disappearing through the door like the shadow that he is. 

[mmorpg-escapism]

Okay okay, now I have the energy to dig into this. Arenvald Appreciation, round two.

Alphinaud has just had his life's work (saving the world) ridiculed and demeaned by his father to the point where he's now been disowned. He is doubting everything he's ever done up until this point because of it. So to come out and see Arenvald in a wheelchair and hear him say the line in the screenshot? He's already been shaken, and this threatens to break him further.

But Arenvald knows his friend very well at this point. He's realistic - "I may never walk again" - but he's not here to complain about his condition. He's here to remind Alphinaud that the boy is, in fact, a hero. That he carries the hopes and dreams of everyone with him as a Scion, and now that includes Arenvald's.

Alphinaud has carried around this doubt ever since the Bloody Banquet. It's been at the back of his mind from that point on, always telling him "you're not good enough to be a hero." Never too loudly, at least that we've noticed, but this time it's screaming at him enough that he gives it a voice in the moment. "I am no hero."

Arenvald shuts that right down. It's not for Alphinaud to decide if he's a hero. That label is earned, not claimed or taken. And so he reminds both Alphinaud and the WoL both that their efforts are seen. That the people know how hard all of the Scions, especially these two, have worked, are working, will continue to work to make the world a better and safer place. He reminds them that there are people who believe in them.

And then Arenvald hands over his dreams of a better future to Alphinaud, as if to say "I can no longer fight, but I know you can, and I trust you to take the best path forward."

Alphinaud is hesitant, still doubting himself, and Arenvald just reminds him "In spite of everything, you've come this far." All it takes, sometimes, is a reminder from your friends that no, that voice in your brain is wrong. You do have value. You do make the world better with your presence.

Without this pep talk from Arenvald, I'm almost certain Alphinaud would have stumbled, hard, on the battlefield he's about to enter. Instead, the doubt is gone and the resolve it had been hiding is back.

And then, in a very "I've grown as a character" kind of way, Fordola gives her version of this very same pep talk to Arenvald. Wheelchair or no, there are still things he can do to help the Scions. Heroes aren't always warriors. Sometimes they're organizers, or supporters, or cooks.

😭😭Arenvald...

[pallascatevo]

If Zenos isn’t allowed to bodily come back they should put his soul in a shinryu wind-up and have it follow us around and add sassy commentary

[vegetableknight]

Powder blue

Chapter 4

Jinx woke up in an unfamiliar room. Her head was spinning and as she tried to get up she fell right back into the bed.

A silent curse fell from her lips.

“You should rest up more.” Jinx turned her head to the direction of the voice.

There  in the doorway stood Ekko.

The last thing she remembered was breaking down in front of the mural.

“I don't remember entering this room, what happened?”

His face twisted in worry. “You fainted. I got there as soon as I heard your screams.”

Fainted, huh.

She was too vulnerable these days. He probably thinks she's weak.

“Hey, can you hear me?”

“I, yeah, I zoned out for a bit.” She answered.

“It's okay.” he took his seat on the bed, his back turned to her. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

She looked at his back. “About what?”

“You know what.”

She scoffed. “I don't, elaborate.”

“Well I don‘t know. The way you were screaming at thin air? Your reaction of the mural? God, even Pete was scared shitless after this whole ordeal.” They both laughed a little at the last statement. At least there were some lighter moments in this kind of situation.

“The lil asshole deserved it.” Jinx‘s laugh came to a stop. “I deserved it too.”

Ekko visibly froze up. “What do you mean?”

She turned her head, looking at the small window in his room. Fallowing the small rays of sun with her eyes. “I see them. Mylo, Claggor, Vander. Sometimes others show up too. They always seem angry. They also have this look of disgust in their eyes. And I can hear them talk to me.”

He could feel her sit up and press her back against his.

“What do they say?”

“They blame me. Tell me about how everybody leaves me. How nobody ever stays with me. How everyone would just betray me.” She scorns. “They‘ve talked about you too.”

This peaked even more of his curiosity.

“And what did they say about me?”

“Mostly the same things. Ya know, the whole ‚he left you and he doesn‘t care about you anymore‘ deal. They tend to be repetitive.” Her voice breaks as she laughs at her own words.

“You won‘t be alone from now on.” He utters quietly.

“Are you sure about that?” She questions him.

“I am.” He says more confidently this time.

“Are you sure you can handle Jinx and not Powder?”

It hits hard. He doesn‘t know how to answer. Can he? He isn‘t so sure anymore. Powder was his friend. Then what about Jinx? Who is she?

Then he thinks of something else.

“Is Powder still alive?”

It takes a while for her to answer. She‘s thinking.

“Kind of. She‘s alive but also dead. She is what she has always been. A Jinx. And I‘m Jinx.” She giggles. “Well, which of the two do you need more. Both are Jinx‘s, so be careful.” She adds playfully.

“I need you. I always thought that you were too far gone, I kept convincing myself that I can‘t see you as a friend anymore. Welp, that didn‘t work.” He turns his head as an attempt to look at her. “What do you say, wanna try being friends again?”

Jinx turned to look back at him. She just stared at him, her face devoid of anything.

“You...”

He tensed up. Small sweat drops started forming on his forehead.

What was she going to say?

“You really are fucking cheesy.” Her demeanor changed. She carried a large smile as she could berely contain her laughter. “‘I need you‘.” She tried imitating his voice, not really succeeding in it.

Huh, that was not something he expected.

She calmed down and evened out her breathing preparing to speak again.

“Sure, let‘s do the whole friends thingie. I don‘t mind.” Her voice was a little out of breath but he could tell she was sounding happier then before.

Ekko was also happier, maybe things around him were getting better.

The awkward atmosphere from before dissipated now Jinx was up on her feet.

She got a better look at his room. “So, this is our place?”

He was taken aback by the question. “Our?”

“Yeah, I mean, you did say you were going to look after me. Where else will I stay? And one thing I know for sure is that your lil firelight friends won‘t leave me alone.” She snorted. “I know I look like a bad scary wolf, but damn, it‘s a little obsessive at this point.”

“Oh shit, I almost forgot.” He clears his throat. “So when you were asleep, I had a meeting with the others. They agreed to let you stay on a few conditions.”

She sighed, clearly annoyed at this. “Spill it.”

“First – you have to be guarded by me or scar at all times and when we aren‘t available, someone else will pitch in.”

“You said that one before.” She interrupted.

“Second – you will accompany us on some missions as our ally. And third – you help out with our research development. Also, they haven‘t forgotten all the friends they‘ve lost so their opinion on you won‘t change overnight.” He finished.

“Got it.” She saluted. “Question. Who the hell is Scar?”

“He is a Vastaya and my second in command, you will meet him tomorrow.” Ekko rubbed his chin. “You should have seen him before though, on one of our missions.”

Jinx twisted her hands on her chest in a motion resembling a thinking pose. He saw her face light up, she figured it out.

“Riiight, the chihuahua dude, I remember him.”

Ekko nodded agreeing with her. “So you see now-” Then it clicked. “I‘m sorry, what dude?”

Hands raised to her head, fingers stretched out to try and imitate Vastaya‘s ears. “He has those chihuahua ears and gruffs like he has anger issues too.”

He couldn‘t really say anything to her when he kinda agreed about the ears too.

He shook his head, trying to hide his own snorts. “Just don‘t call Scar that when you actually meet him.”                                                                        

 BONUS+

Jinx: I am not out of control! I'm a law abiding citizen! Ekko: Really? Name one law Jinx: Don't kill people? Ekko: That's on me. I set the bar too low.

@hauntedfreakdeputyhero here is your tag, just as you asked!

[crystalbahamut]

ever onwards

FFXIV Write Day 12 – Make-up for Day 07 Speculate

Summary: G’raha Tia likes to gather facts first, but sometimes he still is surprised by the outcome.

Author’s note: I try to write ambiguous WoL but I always forget to take height into account. Deepest apologies to my lala friends; everyone else is more easily fudged. Also please forgive any mistakes; I wrote the whole thing in third person and found I just…really didn’t like it. I know second person isn’t for everyone, especially when used while shadowing another character’s perspective, but I just liked it better. And this is as edited as it is going to get.

Warnings: G’raha Tia/WoL, Shadowbringers spoilers, Crystal Tower questline, mostly unspecified/ambiguous WoL, romantic sap, fluff, 2nd person

Words: 2,692

 ---

G’raha Tia knew this expedition to explore the Crystal Tower would be the opportunity of a lifetime, but he had no way to know just how much it would change his life. The ruins, the relics, even the enemies left to guard the tower do more to serve his research than any tome he has ever found. It’s fantastic and more than he had ever dreamed it would be.

And part of what makes it all so much more is the presence of the Warrior of Light. It is thanks to you he can even access the tower, but more than that you are one of the few friends he has been able to make in his life. And…well, at first G’raha couldn’t help but start flirting. You are so much more wonderful and human than any story has ever made you out to be, and he can’t imagine anyone spending time in your presence and not becoming irrevocably in love with you. He had resolved to stop immediately should you make your discomfort known, but then…

Then you had started flirting back. And now G’raha doesn’t know what to do. Now that he has thought about it (a bit obsessively, perhaps,) he cannot help but marvel at his own foolish bravery to even try, and he wonders how in the world the Warrior of Light does not yet have a suitor. You have nearly all of Eorzea singing your praises, have even wrested the respect of your enemies, and hobnob with some of the most prestigious personages in the world. So how can it be you will not only laugh at G’raha’s jokes, but sometimes smile so abashedly when he himself praises you?

It is entirely possible you have no one special in your life– and given your favorable response to G’raha’s affections, it is not outside the realm of possibility that you might be interested in him as he is in you. While it may seem too good to be true, G’raha won’t relinquish such an opportunity if there is one…and the wondering thereof is starting to affect his work. If he is ever going to focus on anything other than your love life ever again, he must needs find out for certain.

So he shall end his speculation by collecting data. And today is perfect– everyone on site has the day off and you have told him you intend to spend the day not doing any work. ‘Tis a veritable miracle if he ever heard of one– even Cid had looked shocked. And so when you set off…G’raha sets off after you.

G’raha is not a bad hunter, and so he puts that expertise to use as he follows you around. You hadn't noticed him in the Shroud that first time and his tracking skills remain a point of pride now as he follows you to and around Gridania. You do some shopping– and he can’t help but stifle laughter as you get roped into helping out a stressed merchant, a distressed mother, and a pained courier, in that order.

But you do take the time to buy some things– some supplies for crafting you had mentioned wanting, a snack that makes G’raha’s stomach grumble in jealousy– and then you just walk slowly and take in the city, trading hellos with some few that feel comfortable enough to greet you. But through it all you remain alone, and when you pause to sit on a bench G’raha would say you actually look a bit…lonely.

‘Tis food for thought, for certain. Do you have a paramour who simply couldn’t spare the time today? But you are attuned to nearly every aetheryte in the realm; surely if you wanted to spend time with a beloved it would be no hard feat to manage? In fact, surely anyone lucky enough to have you would travel the world to be with you wherever you want them?

You dust yourself off and leave out of the east gate into the Shroud proper, and G’raha follows from a safe distance. You walk leisurely and G’raha can admit to himself the forest is nice, with the faint sounds of birds and a gentle breeze blowing leaves to and fro. He wonders what it would be like, to walk at your side…perhaps hand in hand…perhaps with his tail curling up your forearm…

There are a couple of times you seem to know you’re being followed and you turn to glance in his direction, but even while daydreaming utter nonsense G’raha is ready for such an event and makes certain you see naught but nature itself. Whether or not you feel a presence, you don’t seem terribly bothered, and he follows you all the way down to the South Shroud.

You cleave a little close to Toto-Rak for comfort, but it is a slight shortcut and nothing comes out to bother you before you’re back on the path to Quarrymill. You stop to talk to someone in the small hamlet and G’raha errs on the side of staying out of the way, so he cannot hear what is said, but he can clearly see when you leave out the other gate, which only leads to…

Urth’s Gift. So much for not working today. G’raha cannot help the way his tail twitches in annoyance as he follows behind you. You’re supposed to be resting and Urth’s Gift is dangerous. Yes, you are clearly capable and he has seen you in action in that very area before, but he can’t help but worry at how relaxed you seem about the whole business. Thankfully he had the foresight to bring his bow, and he follows a little more closely, until he gets the benefits of trees and rock faces to clamber and climb for better sight lines.

He doesn’t realize his mistake until you reach the edge of the water, stop, and fold your arms across your chest.

“Don’t worry; I’m not going to make you race me to Ixali territory,” you say with a raised voice and tilt your head to glance back in his direction. “I just fought Garuda again and I’m not keen to incite another summoning so soon.”

He drops down from his branch and assumes his face must be as red as his hair. “How long have you known?”

“I caught a glimpse of you in Gridania and couldn’t help myself,” you say and walk up to him with a friendly smile. “You know, if you wanted to come with me you could have just accepted the offer when I made it.”

“I ah…didn’t want to impose,” he says weakly and puts his bow on his back again. He would be content to run back to Mor Dhona with his tail between his legs right now, but you reach out and grab his hand and he has not the strength to deny your touch. Sweet Azeyma, how deep is he in already?

“If I invite you it’s not imposing,” you say. “I like your company G’raha.”

He looks at you. “Truly?” It comes out so desperate he coughs into his hand and tries to cover it up. “I simply thought– perhaps your time would be better spent with someone you like more than any other.”

“And who do you think that might that be?” you ask him.

“I…don’t know,” he says. Gods; how rude would it be to rip back his hand and run away? And yet this is too much like the tepid fantasies he had just indulged in. Granted the wild hogs and darker shade aren’t quite as lightly atmospheric as just outside the city, but he is still holding your hand in the forest. It must count. “I simply assumed you…must have someone.”

You step forward and you are so close G’raha’s very breath stutters. “No one has ever said anything to me,” you say and you lick your lips and now he’s staring at your lips by the Twelve why. “But I do have someone I like more than any other. And I suspect he likes me too, though I cannot be certain.”

G’raha’s heart sinks. “Oh,” he says and bites back a sigh. “Well if- if it makes you feel any better, there is no one that could receive your affections and not return them. And if this person does not then they are a fool.”

He cannot help how emphatic he becomes, but the idea that you could fall for someone and that person would squander such a precious–

You put your hands on either side of his face and lean in to kiss him. He can do naught but stare, wide-eyed for several seconds, though thankfully the kiss is chaste enough that his delayed clumsy movements can count for a returned gesture before you pull back, an enigmatic smile upon your lips before you ask him, “Are you a fool, G’raha Tia?”

He puts his hands over yours and, again, it takes his brain several long seconds to comprehend what just happened. “I…” He licks his lips. He wants to taste you, feel you, in ways he could have only imagined before. A world, a future is opening up before him, and he wants to see where it leads. “I may be a fool, but not such a deplorable one.”

You roll your eyes but there’s a faint embarrassed smile trying to hide in your face. “It’s not deplorable to not want me, G’raha.”

“We must agree to disagree.” Something snaps and he whips his head around, but there is nothing to be seen, no hogs in the wind, and he relaxes with a sigh. He winks at you. “I must say though, your choice of locale for such a stirring confession is a bit…odd.”

You chuckle and put your hands on his shoulders. “We first met here, so technically it’s where we first started our working relationship,” you say. “I thought it would be nice symmetry if we started our new relationship here too.”

He finds the suggestion…strangely appealing. Perhaps he is odd too, then. To be as odd as his Warrior of Light– well, there are much worst things in the world to be. He puts his hands on your sides and walks forward, guiding you along, until your back meets a rocky wall and he pushes in for a deeper kiss to sate his newfound hunger. Or perhaps it is a thirst he knows he will never quench. It matters not– you are more precious than water in an oasis, and he intends to savor every drop.

---

Decades later and a world away…

G’raha doesn’t know what he’s in for with your invitation to meet him out by the main gate, but he goes with a sense of curiosity and naught else. The night is cool, with a light breeze that blows pleasantly against his face as he walks. He nods in response to those that greet him as he passes by, but, curiously, there is no one present when he arrives outside the Crystarium– no one but you, and you walk up to him with a smile that reaches his heart. It’s embarrassing how quickly you can reduce him to an adolescent miqo’te with his first crush.

He clears his throat and tries to focus on something else. “Where is the guard?”

“Shift change.” You pull him close by his robes. “We have one minute and thirty-seven seconds at most.”

“To do what?” G’raha asks, laughing.

You answer him with a kiss. A deep kiss, dizzying, more than welcome, and G’raha returns it with all the hunger he has felt for far too long, tasting, touching, feeling you in a way that is so intensely personal and warm and wonderful and familiar in a way that makes him realize how much he has ached without your touch. It is, alas, too short, but you both pant in the wake of it.

“Oh…” G’raha gently touches your cheek and his soul sings as you lean into his hand. He licks his lips. He wants more, but the way you shift your eyes towards the gate makes him conscientious of the privacy you’ll soon lack. “I wasn’t sure if…”

“I’m sorry it took so long to arrange,” you say and take his hand to start leading him up the path back to the city. He will follow you wherever, if only you keep your hand in his to guide him. “I knew you probably didn’t want to do that in front of the guards, so I had to watch them to see when we would have a chance.”

But why do it out in the open at all? Why that road? G’raha doesn’t want to ask a question he should perhaps already know the answer to, but curiosity burns at him until he stops and grips your hand to keep you from slipping away. You turn back to look at him and he clears his throat nervously. “Pray forgive me but…why that particular spot?”

Thankfully you don’t seem offended by his question. Instead you grow a wide smile– nay, a full grin. “Do you remember…it’s been a long time, but do you remember the first time we ever kissed?”

“In the Shroud?” he asks. As though he could have ever forgotten; it was only ninety percent of the daydreams he’d had to soothe his mind and soul when the weight of his duty had nearly gotten to be too much. How you tasted, how you felt, how he had felt towards you– it had never failed to stir his heart and renew his commitment to his course to save you at any cost.

“You had followed me around all morning so I led you back to the Shroud, back to where we first met.” You step closer to him and his arms slide around you in automatic response. “At the time I wasn’t completely sure if you liked me like that, but I took a chance and it seemed appropriate to have our first kiss where we first met.”

Slowly, G’raha starts to understand. “Where we first…met. I see.” He cannot help his smile even though it feels so wide as to be ridiculous, and he pulls his hood over his eyes to try and hide how red his face must be for how warm it feels. But he covers the act with, “Perhaps this would have been more appropriate then?”

You laugh and G’raha thinks it shouldn’t be possible to be this happy, after so many decades of pain and fear and loss and longing, but he surges forward to kiss you again and you return the act in full.

“Mm, well,” you drawl sarcastically and gently run your thumb over his bottom lip. “I admit I did spend many a night wondering why on earth I couldn’t stop fantasizing about the Crystal Exarch’s mouth.”

“Oh?” His lips curl of their own accord as he thinks about it– because you would have a crisis about wanting to kiss a man you thought you didn’t know. The idea of you lusting after him though serves to boost his confidence and he pulls you to his body suddenly, tightly. “And what about G’raha Tia’s mouth?”

Your eyes soften. “Ridiculous man,” you say and kiss him again. “You still are, have always been, my G’raha, even when I didn’t know it. But I do now, and if you’ll have me I promise I love you just as much as I did then.”

“I’m not the same as I was,” G’raha says but leans in to nuzzle you.

“Neither am I. So…” You gesture at the gate. “Here’s to new beginnings?”

G’raha smiles. Perhaps he does not deserve to be so happy when his plans went so awry and only worked out due to your sheer stubbornness, but he has never thought himself so austere as to deny himself what he wants when it seems to want him just as much. So he leans in, takes your lips in his, and kisses you tenderly, savoring every second he can, before he pulls back just slightly and whispers, “To new beginnings.”

[whitherliliesbloom]

sweetened tea and midnight ink

[ ffxivwrite2021 ] ★ [ masterlist ] ★ [ prompt #8 - adroit ]

[ alphinaud/wol ] ★ [ 1,022 words ]  ★ [ post-canon ]

adroit- clever or skilful

there’s an art to deflection, one alphinaud thought it has fully mastered. unfortunately, his wife is even better at seeing through lies.

When the door to his office breaks the long, cold silence in the air with it’s soft creak, the man had been so lost in his focus that he’d failed to hear it - or the feather light footsteps that crossed the room towards the desk for that matter. 

It isn’t until he smells the sweet floral scent of chrysanthemum tea wafting into his nostrils that he lifts his feathered quill from his parchment and looks up, lips curling into a gentle smile as he looked at the oddly blurred array of snow white, blossom pinks and rich lavender purple. Had he truly been squinting so hard that his eyes couldn’t even focus on the love of his life now?

“Dearest.” 

He greets, and he resists the urge to rub his eyes or blink frantically to hide the tiredness of his eyes... but knowing who he was speaking to, that perhaps was a futile endeavor.

“Darling.” with a gentle nod she greets back softly, stepping up onto the lalafellin stool at the side of the desk to place the tea cup and saucer delicately onto the cluttered desk, parchment, tomes and documents scattered out so disorderly that the words upon that were turning into a blur. 

Alphinaud can already tell by the way Illya lingers by his side, leaning over and pressing her hands against the table that she’s paid him a visit during his hours of work for more reasons than to refill his tea... and he can make an educated guess, based on the choice of tea leaf.

“Chrysanthemum?” he asks, as if to confirm his suspicions while he sets his quill down to hook his index finger around the handle, lifting the cup up to his parched lips. The knowing smile that graces her face is all the answer he needs. 

“Ju Hua, yes.” her second language rolls off her tongue naturally, sweetly - sweeter than the tea he took a sip of. “I know it’s not your favorite...but...”

The young man cannot help the chuckle that leaves his lips, or the heavy exhale from his nose as he sets the tea back down onto the saucer. 

“Now I wonder why you would choose that, then?” 

Sarcasm laced tone evident, he knows that she knows that it’s a rhetorical question. The pair of them are several years past the point of trivial misunderstandings. The shimmer in her eyes reflecting the flickering candlelight is a dead giveaway as to the exasperation she feels towards his answer - or lack thereof. 

“Why indeed.”

Even though he knows better than to think he’d be able to get away with it - Alphinaud attempts to hide his fatigue by straightening himself up against the backrest of his chair, adjusting the frames of his reading glasses to rest higher upon the bridge of his nose. 

He moves to reach for his quill, only for him to catch the pout upon his wife’s face.

“You must be tired, sweet pea.” Her voice is equal parts chiding as she is concerned, and it shakes his already unsteady heart up more than it rightfully should.

“I’m alright, dearest. I still have plenty of energy to spare.” It’s a blatant lie through his teeth, one that he wouldn’t dare hope that Illya would believe... but perhaps she would trust him enough to know his own limits and leave him to his devices regardless. 

“It’s 2 in the morning, Alphy.” He recognizes the slight dip in pitch in her voice, and he averts his gaze from hers to look down at his half-written report. “You’ve been working on this for over 7 hours... You need to rest. The report will be fine unattended until morning.”

“And it won’t write itself, love. I’ll be okay.” 

His insistence is met with even more resistance, and he feels the gentle cradle of her hand against his own.

He knows full well her tactics, and refuses to look into her eyes even as he is forced to turn his head up. If lying won’t convince her then perhaps deflection will.

“Anyways, are you not awake too? I’m sure after a whole day of putting up with E’lija and Sigfred’s bickering, running errands around Revenant’s Toll and taking an emergency commission from Redolent Rose, you must be more exhausted than I am.” 

Alphinaud would like to think he’s gotten better at the art of deflection - at least better than he’d been back during the long passed years of the since ended Dragonsong war. Krile would most undoubtedly begin teasing him for it, but it’s an art he’s mastered well enough to navigate his way through talks and debates with experienced political figures, nation leaders and bullheaded adventurers - some of whom decades older than himself.

But with the gift of self-awareness and a now humbled outlook upon himself, came the added guilt of deceiving people that he cared for. 

He was an exceptional, charismatic speaker and diplomat... Which made Illya’s own extraordinary intuition and ability to understand the hearts and intentions of others keenly a perfect compliment and foil both for him.

And even if she wasn’t- she was the woman he’s swore to spend the rest of eternity with... and it was she, above others who would come to understand and pick him back up onto his feet when it felt like the world had crashed down around him. Illya knows him inside out - better than he even knows himself, sometimes.

“Alphy.” She calls him and pauses, forcing him to finally look up and meet the glowing ardent violet of her eyes. “Please? If you won’t sleep then... at least rest for a while.”

His shoulders drop, utterly defeated and he finally lets out a sigh and a nod, curling his fingers around her own.

“If that would please you.” 

“It would. Now come on, let’s go to the guest bedroom. Ours is too far.”

Rising from the desk, Alphinaud allows the lalafellin woman to pull him along by the hand, her footsteps quick and eager as they leave the office and the half-drunk cup of sweetened tea and inkwell behind. 

[starrysnowdrop]

Memories Like Scars

Part 2

Yume Aino x Cid Garlond

2,423 Words

Please read the first part HERE

Romantic Tension; Bonding; Expanded Cutscene

This is a retelling of the in-game cutscene where the WoL helps Cid regain his memories and gives him his trademark goggles via the Echo. Here, Yume and Cid relive Cid’s memories together and Yume and Cid discover that they have a strange bond they never imagined that they had.

A gentle breeze blew through Yume’s raven hair as she walked onto the Gridanian airship platform. She brushed a loose strand of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her right horn as she approached the white haired man waiting for her.

When Cid Garlond turned to face her, she could not help but smile. Just why he had this particular effect on her, she really couldn’t explain. She could not stop the butterflies in her stomach and her heart would flutter at the mere sight of him. All she knew was that he has the most brilliant smile, a strong jawline covered with a short, white beard, long, white hair, shining silver eyes, muscular arms, broad shoulders, and a sculpted chest that she always catches herself staring at for far too long... Yes, he was a beautiful man, there was no denying that.

Yet, what she admired most was not skin deep: his jovial nature, his humor, his intelligence, his determination, and most of all, his kindness. Cid helped her to pick up the pieces in the aftermath of the attack on the Scions, with his quick wit and endless compassion for others.

She couldn’t understand it herself, but she felt she could trust him... completely. Such a rarity indeed for the Raen ronin who had left everything behind in Hingashi.

“Yume, you have returned! And just in time too.” Cid smiled as he gestured towards the Enterprise behind him. “According to my tests, the device is now functioning in perfect harmony with the crystal─meaning we can leave whenever you're ready.”

Yume smiled back at him before gently nodding. “That is good to hear. I am ready to go if Alphinaud is.” She gestured to her fellow Scion, who was still talking to one of the airship platform attendants.

The Garlean man nodded in return, then sighed deeply.

“But you must understand: tests can only tell one so much.” Cid folded his arms and looked towards the Enterprise.

“Until we approach the Howling Eye─until we attempt to breach the barrier itself... I cannot be sure that this will work...”

Yume’s sapphire eyes grew wide as she realized what Cid was about to tell her. Not that she hadn’t been in life or death situations before; she had been in far too many for her to count. Still, her heart seized up with the thought of Cid and Alphinaud being in harm’s way. If anyone should be ready to die it was her... not either of her newfound companions.

Cid hesitated a moment before he spoke once more.

“I think it only fair to tell you that there is a small but statistically significant chance that the crystal could trigger a massive...”

Cid shook his head before he unfolded his arms and continued, “Hmmm... Mayhap it is better that we remain positive.”

“Yes, we should foremost be positive, and assured that we will make it through the barrier... then we will defeat Garuda. Doubt will cost you everything,” Yume answered with a calming intonation.

Yume giggled as she looked up to the sky in thought. “A great general once said, ‘Victory belongs to the most persevering’...” She then shrugged as she looked back to Cid, “...or so I have been told anyway.”

The Garlean smiled once more as he seemed to hesitate for a moment. Cid then breathed in deeply as he reached out his hand and caressed Yume’s ivory scaled cheek, while he placed his other hand on her shoulder. Yume’s breath caught in her throat as Cid’s silver eyes looked directly into hers.

“Yume, I want to thank you. For reuniting me with my ship, for trusting in me to develop this plan... for everything. You've helped me to rediscover a part of myself I'd forgotten. I am not the man I once was, and I do not know if I ever shall be... but I do know one thing: this feels right.”

Yume placed her hand over his as she leaned into his touch. Her heart was beating rapidly as she forced herself to stop shaking from the emotions that threatened to overflow.

“There is no need to thank me, Cid. I am glad... glad that we met.”

Cid’s silver eyes softened as Yume continued, “This feels right for me too... as if this was meant to be. I just know that if you are by my side, everything will be alright.”

Cid ran his thumb over her scales on her cheek and brushed his hand down the side of her face till he took his hand back.

He chuckled for a moment, “Ahem... My apologies for the sudden outpouring of sentiment. I would have waited until after the mission, but... well, you understand.”

Yume simply nodded in response before the short elezen in blue and white coughed loudly, finally catching everyone’s attention, “Well, if we are done here, then let us be on our way.”

Alphinaud squeezed himself in between Cid and Yume to step onboard the airship, exasperation set on his face. The two simply shrugged at each other in response before following Alphinaud onto the airship themselves.

———

Once the Enterprise took to the air, Cid was at the helm with Yume standing vigil right by his side. Alphinaud was standing a few fulms behind Cid, his arms crossed while staring out at the cloud filled sky.

Cid reached up and took off his signature goggles, revealing his Garlean third eye. He stared down at the goggles in his hand with a look of longing in his eyes. After a few moments, Cid grabbed his forehead hard, as if the third eye itself was hurting.

“Damn it!” Cid cursed to the winds as he turned towards the Raen.

“I... I once flew in this airship. And I was not alone,” Cid spoke slowly as his mind’s fog began to clear, “There were adventurers on board... adventurers like you, Yume.”

“Cid, are starting to remember something?” Yume inquired.

“I... I think...”

He then was interrupted by a sharp pain in his head. Grasping at his head in a fruitless attempt to stop the sudden painful attack, Cid then turns to Yume with a look of shock mixed with confusion.

Yume gasps as she reaches out to him, but it is no use. She knows what is coming.

A bright light envelops the both of them, as they are transported to an entirely different space. It was a vast empty space filled with a soft light. When Yume looked behind her, Cid was standing there exactly as he was moments before, seemingly stunned at what he was seeing.

“Yume? Is that you?”

Nodding back at him, Yume breathlessly spoke, “Yes... but... I do not know why you are here with me.”

“Where are we? What is this place?” Cid spun around in utter disbelief at the endless nothing around the two of them.

“This is the space where I view visions of the past. This is the power of the Echo.”

“The Echo? The Echo causes THIS?”

“Sometimes, yes... usually I am seeing events unfold already, of someone’s memories. Other times, this space appears while visions appear to me after a short time. I have had this power for as long as I remember, but I still do not know how to control it... or how it works entirely.”

Cid sighs in exasperation. “Alright, well, we must be here for a reason. Let’s figure out what that is then.”

Yume nodded before she answered him, “Cid, you had said that you flew on the airship with adventurers before, right?”

“Yes... though I had only remembered because I was holding my goggles in my hand.”

Cid held his hand out to Yume, the pair of goggles sitting in his palm. Yume stepped forward and looked down at the goggles. She studied them for a second before Cid spoke aloud his thoughts.

“Just how long have I worn these damn goggles?” Cid sighed as he shook his head. “Wait... I think I am beginning to remember something...”

It was mere seconds afterwards that a small boy ran up to them... a boy with white hair and a Garlean third eye. Yume knew instantly that it was Cid as a child.

Yume smiled at the younger Cid as the present Cid seemingly continued to voice his stream of consciousness aloud.

“Ah, yes. I fancied myself a trendsetter in my younger days. The young prodigy, admired by all... exactly like his father.”

The younger Cid sat down at a desk building a tiny version of what appeared to be Magitek armor. Cid continued, “I was born and raised in Garlemald...”

“It was only natural that the precocious young student should become an engineer. Had his father not done the same?”

Child Cid then got up from the desk, with a distressed look in his silver eyes. The boy walked away and faded away into the emptiness. Yume felt tears come to her eyes as Cid continued, “Father... When did we stop seeing eye to eye?”

Suddenly, the space went dark, then appearing from the darkness, the blood red moon Dalamud hung eerily above them.

Cid’s voice began to shake, “When did Meteor become your everything, and your loved ones cease to matter?” Yume turned to Cid and saw the pain in his eyes. “You abandoned us all. But he was there for me, Father─there for me when you were not.”

Yume turned around to see a large man clad in a rust red coat and black Imperial armor. He walked slowly forward and touched the shoulder of who appeared to be Cid a few years younger than he was right now. The armored man looked rather intimidating to be sure, but the younger Cid was not afraid of him. On the contrary, the young Cid seemed to look to the man with admiration in his eyes.

Cid’s voice floated to Yume’s horns as she watched the two figures slowly fade and the soft light return to the space. “Though he proved no better in the end. Gaius was just another man with an all-consuming obsession.”

The Raen’s gaze returned to Cid, who had closed his eyes in contemplation.

“And so I ran─left the Empire behind and came to Eorzea, where I built the Ironworks.”

Opening his eyes, Cid looked down at the goggles in his hand. Suddenly, the space erupted into light, and was replaced by the two standing on the deck of the Enterprise, but accompanying them were a younger Cid sans beard, along with Biggs and Wedge, Cid’s assistants that Yume had saved from the Garleans soon after joining the Immortal Flames.

“Eorzea opened my eyes. It was home to so many manner of people, each with their own hopes and dreams. People worth saving. And so I fought beside them. I wanted to prove that my knowledge could serve a nobler purpose. I wanted to prove that there was another way...”

Cid smiled at his younger self, who was looking out onto a night sky filled with stars, with the wind blowing through his white hair. “And it all began that day, when I found my new home...”

The peaceful atmosphere was broken when a burst of light appeared just over the side of the airship. Yume and Cid squinted their eyes as the younger Cid approached the light.

After Yume’s eyes adjusted to the change in brightness, she soon realized that the light was in the shape of a person. “What...?” Yume inquisitively stepped forward to see the figure more clearly. She gasped when she saw who the figure in the light was.

Cid mimicked his younger self and stared in awe at the light, clearly not quite believing what he was seeing.

“How can that be... I always thought it was just a dream...”

Yume shook her head. “This is no dream, it is one of your memories. But, how is it possible?”

Cid’s silver eyes smiled down at her and he laughed lightly, “Of course, that light─it was you, wasn't it? All along, it was always you...”

A deep blush adorned Yume’s cheeks as the two watched the scene play out in front of them. The light figure of Yume reaches out to the younger Cid and hands him something. She smiles at him before the light fades away. The younger Cid looks down in astonishment at his open palm and sees the goggles sitting there.

After a few moments, the younger Cid places the goggles on his forehead, clipping them to his third eye. He turned around towards Biggs and Wedge, whom both gave a thumbs up in approval.

Yume held her head with her left hand as she concentrated on the scene that had played out in front of her very eyes. “I gave you the goggles...? I must have used the Echo to give them to you... but when?”

“Well, I have had these goggles since I first came to Eorzea, before the Calamity. But I could never remember where I had gotten them from. I always thought that vision of you in light was a mere dream. I can’t believe it really happened.”

Cid looked around at their surroundings as the scene began to fade back to the softly lit empty space. “Then again, it’s hard to believe that we are standing here reliving my memories. But here we are.”

Yume turned to Cid, as she furrowed her brow. “I am just not sure when that could have possibly happened. Before the calamity, I was still in Hingashi... in Kugane specifically.”

Cid brought his hand to his chin in thought for a moment. “Yume, think back to that time... what happened five years ago? Or go back further than that—perhaps it will spark that particular memory.”

Yume closed her eyes and shook her head. She knew what will happen if she concentrated too hard on her memories... those times filled with pain and heartache.

Cid, the man she admired, the one who made her heart skip a beat just from one look, a dear friend who had been there for her when she needed someone the most... what would he think of her if he saw who she truly was? Would he turn away from her in disgust?

Her heart would be shattered if he walked away from her now... but she needed to know. She had to know... did she truly have this connection with Cid before they had even met?

((To be continued))