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mothwingwritings · 1 year

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Taming Of Beasts

Fem!Reader X Zenos Yae Galvus

I wrote this right after I finished StormBlood a few months ago. Zenos is def one of my fav villians in Final Fantasy and I wanted to take a stab at trying to write something for him. :) I hope I did him an ounce of justice.

This is supposed to take place sometime between Heavensward and Stormblood. Ala Mhigo is still very much going through some shit in this little fic (and so is the reader, for that matter).

(Also Stormblood is free right now so if you have any interest and haven’t played, now is the time to act!!!)

Warnings: War, death, blood, spoilers possibly up to the point of stormblood? But not anything huge.

Victory had become too easy.

Over the past several months the thrill of the hunt had significantly waned, each battle presenting itself with less resistance than the one prior. Every adversary faced was now more apt to cower, roll over and submit then to stand up and fight. The empire’s spreading influence was quickly becoming far too overpowering for these backwater colonies to handle, and it was painfully apparent with each visit Zenos made that these hunting fields had long since held any interesting sport. Citizens who were once so eager to fight for their homeland now bared their stomachs like whimpering, scared dogs.

His father and the legion commanders saw it as a good thing, satisfied that the illustrious Garlean Empire was finally achieving what it rightfully deserved. With every passing day more land was claimed by the empire, and with the land came influence, victory, and boredom.

The successes were too easy and each day that dragged by in Ala Mihgo had grown lackluster to the empire’s crown prince. What was once an exciting hunting ground was now a barren isle, the lands that had brought thrilling promises of conquest now plagued by dwindling opposition, souring the once sweet experience he found roaming these fields.

Each step of his heavy sabatons sunk him into the earth, the dirt path softened with the spilled blood of the fallen. Droplets of the viscous red liquid stained the sole and sides of the dark metal, the agonized expressions of the corpses reflecting back off their bloodied surface as he paraded by. Soon those bodies would be carted away, dumped in some unmarked mass grave to rot deep underground. There was neither honor nor peace in their passing, their miserable existences snuffed out as easily as blowing out a candle.

He smiled.

He was making his way towards a line of soldiers and survivors, and though the latter of the two outnumbered his battalion, they were far too broken to pose a threat. The group consisted of a varied mix of individuals, men and women, young and old, huddled together shoulder to shoulder. Most wept, while others remained silent and quivering. Held firmly in the soldiers grasps, none of the prisoners dared make eye contact with the approaching prince.

None save for you.

Wild was the only way he could describe you, ready to lunge at him the moment he took a step too close. Covered in blood, hair matted and tangled, outfit torn to shreds with gaping wounds peering out through the cracks, you were truly a sight to behold. It was obvious you had fought hard to earn your spot amongst the survivors, and judging by the more kempt look of your compatriots, you deserved it far more than they did.

While most of the prisoners shared a soldier keeping them in check, you had your own personal guard holding you under firm lockdown to prevent you from breaking free and causing issues. The soldier watching you seemed haggard, as if restraining someone as tiny as you had taken a great deal of effort. Zenos internally scoffed at the scene. There was no place for weakness in his battalion, he made note to exact due punishment later.

“Sir,” one of the men spoke as he approached, imperial salute following his words, “We have cleared the area. There was some opposition, but it has been dealt with.”

Zenos’ masked face scoured the surrounding area, finding far too many of their own men’s bodies mixed in with the mongrels. “Dealt with you say, but it seems you had quite the time taking over one small village.”

The soldier addressing him stiffened. “… It’s true, my lord. They did put up more of a fight than was anticipated. There is no excuse for the amount of lives our side lost.”

“If you are aware of that then it should have been avoided,” his cold words made the soldier visibly uneasy, his weight now shifting unsteadily between his feet, “but that may be addressed later. I see we have some cornered animals in our midst.”

The man quickly nodded, relieved to have the heat taken off himself. He turned to the disheveled group, causing them to flinch at the recognition. “These are the enemy survivors, all of them active members of the resistance. Some, once trained, we believe may make fine soldiers. The others can be used as slaves, in the pleasure quarters, or as bargaining chips. Should my lord will it, we can instead kill them.”

A jolt passed through the crowd, a wave of sheer terror and indignation flashing across their muddied, bruised faces. Even you, staunch as you remained, shuddered at the flippant words that spilled from his soldier’s lips. The lot of you was nothing in the face of the Garlean Empire, and it horrified you that you lived or died at the whim of one man.

He did consider ending you all, leaving your final moments to be filled with dread and the futility of your efforts. How fitting it would be to have the final thought to flit through your fading conscious be your own ineptitude, the frailty you exuded trying to preserve your own existence for a chance at freedom. Your subjugation was inevitable, but he supposed being spared watching the rest of your brethren and kin being torn down until they were all nothing but toiling and obedient pets, cannon fodder, or corpses could be considered a nicety.

Mere inches separated you from the crown prince, and he took a moment to fully take you in. The unrestrained malice and fear dancing in your wide eyes, the tightly clenched fists held in place at your side, the deep grimace that engulfed your entire face. Your body shook in the guard’s hold, each quake relaying how clearly upset you were to be ensnared in this situation. If he ordered them to let you go, what would you do? Attack him the moment you were given leeway, or would you crumble to your knees in despair?

Musing on it piqued his interest. Hunched over before him, you looked so insignificant. Shuddering as you glowered up at him, he could tell you were on the brink of collapse but were doing your very best to hide your feebleness from him.

Your animosity was palpable, the kind that only comes when someone is pushed far past their limit. Your home, your family, your friends, his men must have taken it all from you. And now that you were captured, the torment you faced was sure to be dragged on, only guaranteed to end with your gruesome and painful death.

Zenos wondered if you realized how lucky you were to have survived to this point. Like a phoenix, you had risen from the ash of your past life, born into a new life of combat and strife, forged by the hells of war. The situation that was forced upon you was a truly wonderful breeding ground, an opportunity to mold you into something extraordinary.

But was it enough? You certainly had the look of a mad dog about you, but to show the true colors of a feral beast you would require more time. You needed more experiences to break you, rebuild you into a seething vessel of hatred, an avatar of merciless revenge.

If the process didn’t destroy you, how much more interesting would you become?

A slow smile crept across his lips.

There was a woman next you, older than you by at least two decades. Her manic eyes kept flicking to you, her chapped hands violently wringing the tattered rags that once resembled a dress. She seemed worried for you, and judging by the way your eyes darted to her every so often, softening with each quick gaze, it was fair to say she was someone important to you. Was she your mother, or perhaps an aunt? She was too old to be a sibling, but too young to be a grandparent. Maybe just a kind older woman you took a shine to? It mattered not, her end would happen regardless of her relations.

Zenos lifted his hand languidly, stopping once it had pointed to the woman beside you. She grew pale as he singled her out, her knees knocking so hard he was surprised she still stood. His hand swept over the remaining people, indiscriminately landing on two other elderly captives. An intense wave of unease spread throughout you, accented by the intense quiet that fell over the small crowd.

His lips parted, the words spilling out in a bored admonishment, “These three are past their prime and have no further use in this world.”

You froze, your face twisting into a look of unadultered dread. You knew what was coming next.

“Kill them.”

Without further fanfare, the soldiers nearest each of the chosen drew their weapons and fired. Three bodies fell with a uniformed ‘thud’ to the ground. Fresh blood streaked across your cheek as your companion made her way to the ground. Screams erupted around you, broken and gasping for their stolen loved ones.

Though your mouth had fallen open in shock, no sound spilled out.

The look of anguish the spread across your face was so appealing that he almost considered praising you for it. Cold, agonized distress suited you just as much as bitter rage.

With a flick of his wrist, he continued doling out fates. “The two on the end look sturdy enough to be soldiers, the three in the middle can be tasked with menial labor, and that one over there I am sure can find work in the pleasure quarters.”

“And what of this one, sir?”

The guard holding you gave you a rough jostle, seeming to bring you to your senses. Your eyes traveled slowly from the body at your feet to Zenos himself, the heartbreak you were suffering flickering out as it was once more replaced with thrumming anger. You gritted your teeth, eyebrows cinching as your chest began to rise and fall with erratic breaths. You were doing all you could to keep yourself together, but the final thread holding you was stretching so thin…

Zenos took a step towards you, the motion putting you on alert. You must have been ready for a death order, trying to make peace with the fact that this is how it would all end for you. With another step he was upon you, his regal form hulking before you. Your eyes fixated on his concealed face, a tempest of emotions swirling within them.

His hand reached out towards you, and though your eyes sparked with a look of apprehension, you remained still. He latched on to your chin, giving a small pleased hum as he felt your flesh quiver in his hold. Upon contact, your face twisted into a look of sheer disgust which he found quite amusing.

You winced as he jerked your head this way and that, assessing the different angles of your face. Even covered in grime you were lovely, surely in more peaceful times you were sought after amongst the rabble to wed. His eyes flicked over your body, taking in each curve and valley viewable to him, the cuts and bruises that littered your skin only made you look that much more appealing.

“This one will serve me directly.”

Your eyes widened, a moment of silence spreading amongst the soldiers as they cast each other sideways glances. “My lord, are you sure,” the man holding you finally broke the silence, “This one is… Well, they are a bit unruly sir.”

He held back a laugh at the blush that passed your cheeks, affronted by the soldier’s choice of words. He guessed unruly was not how you would choose to be described in this situation.

“I can see that,” Zenos spoke plainly, releasing your chin from his grasp, “However a new personal servant is needed since one has recently passed of old age. This woman is lively and can handle the strains of the job. She will be trained in the role, broken down as many times as it takes till she understands her place.” He turned his back towards you and began his departure, his dull tone calling back over his shoulder, “If she can’t adjust to the position I will kill her myself.”

“Then do it.”

He stopped in his tracks, your shaky words the first time he had the pleasure of hearing your voice.

“I’d rather die than serve you.”

Your voice warbled, but your message was loud and clear. It was a declaration you wanted people to hear. Was it to try and inspire your fellow man that lined up beside you, maybe place an ounce of fight back into the shackled and broken? Perhaps it was an attempt to boost confidence in yourself? Maybe it was simply an act of rage-filled defiance towards the man who personally led the charge which slaughtered your kin, their blood still freshly smeared across your hands and chest.

It struck him then that you looked beautiful like that, scowling and full of fury, soaked in the blood of your loved ones and enemies alike. It surprised him that a mere pest could hold such radiance, his attraction to you stupefying as he turned towards you, your crazed eyes boring straight through his mask, locking with his own.

“Silence,” the guard holding you gave you a violent shake, “How dare trash like you address Lord Zenos that way, you impudent-“

“Enough.”

Zenos lifted his hand, the sharp command causing both you and the guard to instantly still, your eyes quickly casting to the ground in dismay. He could practically hear your thoughts as he made his way back towards you. Surely this was your now end, there was no way the crown Prince of the empire would let such insolence stand. You would be made an example of, another death to add to the killing field.

The thought annoyed him. Why were you so eager to die when you showed such promise?

He towered before you, his armored hand once more latching to your chin, forcibly tilting your head until he held your watery, conflicted gaze. He could feel you vibrate with anxiety in his hold, your jaw clenched so tight your face had turned red.

“What is it about the battlefield that makes people like you want to throw them self into deaths embrace so carelessly, I wonder? Is it lack of faith, or the overwhelming fear of the odds being stacked against you? Is it the heartbreak over having your loved one cut down before you? Maybe you are just tired of the inadequacy, of being so powerless before true might?”

Your face morphed into a look of disdain, a fresh tear sliding down your cheek carved a clear path through the filth that had accumulated on you.

“Don’t you find it a waste? All that potential building up inside of you, mounting with each hopeless assault against your people… I can see it in your eyes. The hunger to strike me down right where I stand,” he tightened his grip, causing you to cringe, “It’s an admirable quality to have, even for a cur such as yourself.”

Abruptly he pulled away, your head lulling forward from the lack of support. Zenos turned on his heel, stepping away to carry on with the next order of business.

“You have your orders,” He called briskly over his shoulder, “Make sure they are carried out with haste.”

The soldiers nodded, immediately falling into action as Zenos began his departure. He glanced once more over his shoulder as you were dragged away. With the wind no longer in your sails you were much more malleable, putting up little to no fuss as the soldiers ushered you to your fate.

The boredom he had long been suffering from started to diminish as he considered the future. A smirk ghosted his lips as he turned forward, a low hum accentuating his hurried footsteps.

“Who knew such an intriguing find would be buried within this rubbish,” he spoke in barely above a whisper, the words intended for no one but himself, “I am quite interested in what you will become, my little whelp.”

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otherworldseekers · 1 year

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Severia x Nero: Sharlayan AU (updated 4-30-24)

I don’t have anything for rarepair week today cause the prompt is opposites attract and Severia and Nero are not at all opposites. So here’s a bit about the Sharlayan AU I’ve been ruminating on since EW.

The idea behind this AU is that Severia and Nero are both from Sharlayan and meet each other through their respective studies, fall in love, and go on to be a cute archeologist couple digging in Allagan ruins.

It is partly inspired by one of my favorite book series of all time: the Amelia Peabody series of historical mystery novels about an archeologist couple digging and solving mysteries in late 19th and early 20th century Egypt. The main couple, Amelia and Emerson, are serious couple goals. They may be my favorite couple in all of literature.

In 1535 Sharlayan researcher Zolin Zukalin found a young Auri child wandering lost and alone among the Dravanian Hinterlands. Failing to find the child's family, Zolin ultimately adopts the child and names her Severia. She grows up in the Sharlayan colony, educated along with the children of many prominent scholars, until Zolin eventually retires at an advanced age and returns to Old Sharlayan in the year 1545. Severia spends the next several years setting aside her education to care for her adopted father. When Zolin knows that his time is near he makes Severia promise that when he's gone she will enter the Studium and resume her education and carefully makes provision in his will to ensure it happens.

When Zolin has passed away, Severia finds that she has been bequeathed an annual allowance on the condition that she attend the Studium with the promise of Zolin's full estate being bestowed upon her at her graduation. Dutifully, she enrolls in the Studium at age 19. The following year, when she has finished her introductory courses and advanced to the next level, she has a random encounter in the Noumenon with a man named Nero Scaeva.

Nero Scaeva is the son of Garlean researchers who fled from Solus' regime in order to prevent their work being used for militant ends. Nero is only two years old when they take refuge in Sharlayan. His parents end up living and working in Labyrinthos where their skills are put to use maintaining the complex environmental systems. Though they set aside their magitek research to learn the science of Sharlayan, a precocious Nero at age 8 finds where their old research materials are stored and becomes captivated. As he grows, his interest in magitek combines with his interest in stories of Allag, which he devours obsessively.

Nero becomes the youngest Sharlayan scholar to have an invention patented and distributed for use among the population. Faced with the decision to either pursue a career as an engineer or a career as an archeologist, Nero chooses both and begins producing a new line of inventions specifically for making archeological excavation more safe and precise. When he meets Severia at the age of 30 he is working on his 3rd Archon thesis (His mark is on his back left shoulder.) while he teaches to support himself and continues to seek funding for his archeological endeavors.

Severia and Nero soon begin meeting frequently as Nero helps her with her studies. It does not take the two long to fall in love and begin to contemplate a life together after Severia has graduated. But both of them more than anything want to pursue an archeological career, which costs a lot of money. Fortunately, after her graduation, Severia receives the rest of her legacy from Zolkin Zukalin, and discovers that her father had far more wealth than she ever imagined.

Severia becomes a well to do woman and knows exactly what to do with her new riches. That year they are married in the Spring and a month later have packed their bags for the mainland and their first archeological expedition together.

#Severia x Nero #Severia Zetsuen #Nero tol Scaeva #Sharlayan AU #headcanons #Through Seasons and Centuries

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nosafeharbour · 5 months

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Encyclopedia Eorzea III: Werlyt thoughts

How is this the second Werlyt thoughts/reactions post I've written in 2023. The Sorrow of Werlyt ended over 2 years ago

This is literally just Werlyt (so also Gaius and Raen) musings, I'll actually finish reading the rest of the book later...

It's beautiful. I've looked at this for 24 hours now

Holy shit, all this Werlyt lore… Gaius was viceroy of Werlyt for TWENTY YEARS?? In-game it sounded like he led the invasion during the epidemic 10 years ago, when you see him adopt the Raen kids, but otherwise wasn’t too deeply involved... but it was under Garlean control since the very start of the Empire? Gaius came into the picture midway through, after it briefly rebelled.

"A young Gaius van Baelsar" capturing Werlyt when he was 30... I guess him being legatus in his thirties makes complete sense with the timeframe of Ala Mhigo, but having it spelled out so plainly… wow

Thinking about the memory of Gaius in the Emerald Weapon trial being a 30 year old is so funny. You jumped-up little shit

It’s hard to pin down dates because everything is measured in years after Werlyt was taken, without it ever giving a starting date, but you can work backwards… the rebellion 30 years post conquering + 20 years of Gaius as viceroy + 5 years before ARR when Gaius begins advance on Eorzea in 1.0 = 55 years ago. The Empire is also 55 years old, which lines up:

Between 55 and 455 years ago: Werlyt is founded (happens after Gyr Abania is unified, but Werlyt is still described as “newly formed” when it was conquered, so definitely closer on the scale to 55)

55 years ago: Werlyt falls under the Empire

25 years ago: While the Empire is stretched thin conquering the Far East, the Werlytians stage a revolt and retake the province. Gaius comes in to quell it, and becomes viceroy after the previous one is killed (Gaius is 31 yrs old) (This is also the year Doma is conquered, so that also lines up)

20 years ago: Ala Mhigo is conquered, Gaius is also made viceroy there

15 years ago: Gaius’s fuckup at the Battle of Silvertear, and when he starts to lose favour in Garlemald

10 years ago: The epidemic, when the Raen kids are orphaned

5 years ago: Gaius leaves for the invasion of Eorzea (1.0), which eventually leaves Valens as viceroy after the events at the Praetorium

Did the epidemic happen under his watch? The flashback of him first reaching out to Allie and Alfonse makes sense to be 10 years ago, but the energy of that scene was very much “arriving to a situation” and not that… it was already under his jurisdiction…

I don’t know how I feel about the change of context here, at least in my understanding of it. It honestly feels a bit of a shock that Werlyt has been under the Empire for 50 years? They never stated any specific years, but I always read it as a decade or so? Long enough for it to become their new lives, short enough that people still remember life before. Gaius coming in to “save” Werlyt from the epidemic by way of conquering it was this mixed bag that ultimately did build towards his character thesis of “good intentions stuck in a bad system”. To think the epidemic technically happened under his watch is new and strange, I dunno. I need to replay it with this in mind to see if it checks out

Especially with that one post-Emerald scene where Gaius is all “Things were shit in MY legion? But I ran a tight ship” lmao… I know a lot of people take the piss out of that scene thinking that he was only discovering racism for the first time in his life (he literally has scenes in ARR about stamping out discrimination in his Legion), but I always read it as his ego meaning he believed that his influence and word over his Legion was immovable, that nobody would behave that way because he told them not to. It complements his view that he always thought he was doing good, but not yet having had the blinders of being a cog in the fascist system removed. These things will always still happen. It would be good to see that scene again, with all this context of the epidemic happening during his time as viceroy... If the times are all correct, I feel like him being stretched thin between Ala Mhigo and Werlyt is a part of this

The “all the good Gaius had achieved” line in regards to him building up Werlyt as viceroy makes me wince, while I do like engaging with Gaius having good intentions, just talking about all the good he did and not the fact it was still a conquered territory + the epidemic? Even I’m balking at that, and I’m a Gaius enjoyer. Slow down here. I’m looking at the artwork of destroyed Werlyt from when he re-conquered it right below this paragraph LOL

The Raen of Werlyt migrating there directly from Corvos, to the point that their religion and food is still Corvosi-inspired... seeing it spelled out so plainly after this incredibly fleeting and brief image from FanFest... wow. I get to feel even more insane over Corvos, now

Really curious about the timeframes, still. If Raen only arrived in Werlyt a little over 50 years ago, in one fell swoop they have turned Albi's Welytian grandmother into a Corvosi grandmother

Werlyt religion being polytheistic, seemingly a fusion of the Twelve and Corvosi religion… I NEED TO KNOW ABOUT CORVOS…

I love the kind of demographics you get from these books:

Werlyt currently undergoing negotiations with Ul’dah for ceruleum, so they can continue mining… Gaius overseeing said negotiations in Ul’dah, Ul’dah is Albi’s turf... Thinking about them in Ul’dah together. It’s actually so fun thinking about Gaius visiting so many Eorzean city states as an envoy. He’s helping, but also he’s keeping his god damn head down (or in a chicken suit)

Werlyt’s main food being stewed dishes is just another thing that lines up with what I imagined, mostly just because it’s what I figured Albi and Gaius would eat a lot (both from cold places, they both know how to cook simple stuff but aren’t master culinarians)

Cheese being a major export to Garlemald, and there being a major cheese presence in Garlemald already (via Ovibos milk, so native to Garlemald itself and not all imported)... cheese lore

There’s way too much dairy talk in here, “dairy enthusiasts” pleeeeasseeee stop making my favourite place like this when I’m lactose intolerent

After The Sorrow of Werlyt says that Terncliff is too high above the ocean to fish, but then Tataru’s Grand Endeavour had orphans collecting seashells, I was so confused on whether or not Werlyt has beaches or not. I’m glad they clarified that there are a few harbours amongst the cliffs.

All of this geography and agriculture lore is neat just in that it’s showing that Werlyt is really quite big. You never really get a full sense of scale in-game, between Terncliff and what we see of the main Werlyt town (?) during Emerald trial/post-Diamond

We have three Werlytian surnames – Hunte, Souther, and Horne!

Severa Souther and Valdeaulin Ganathain… I care them. Severa is only 23, bless her heart. Valdeaulin being 48 is just exactly what I’d assumed/hoped.

The leader of the interim government is Talbot Hunte. Have we seen him..? I’m picturing the Revolutionary Commander in my mind when I read that, but I don't think he was ever named

All of these Werlytian names (surnames, and Hyur first names) have a Germanic feel, while Severa and the Raen kids have Latin-based names. The Raen in Werlyt originate from Corvos, so I am hoping it’s because they are sticking to Corvos being the root of the Latin-based Garlean language, as it should be? Severa had a Garlean parent? Hmm

Bereft at the casual mention of “the bravery of the Baelsars and the Warrior of Light”… THE BAELSARS

Kind of sad they straight-coded Milisandia by giving her a crush on Alfonse. That lizard was one of the gay ones :/

I think Gaius is possibly the first character to get a second Encyclopedia Eorzea entry. I was hoping he would, but had low expectations bc they've never given any other recurring characters new entries... but they did this, for me

“... and though his quest for vengeance would claim the masks of Altima and Deudalaphon, the hunt for Ascians was quickly set aside when he learned of the Empire’s plans to produce the noxious weapon Black Rose” – Black Rose is important and thematic, but seeing the Ascian plot dropped so abruptly even in this book is breaking my heart all over again LMAO

So extremely cool that there are 6 pages just about the Ultima Weapons!! Including the Allagan iterations, the original ARR project, and the second project during Werlyt

I do like the line “According to the testimony of Gaius Baelsar…” in the section about the Ultima Weapon, about how Lahabrea guided them to it. Gaius sat and gave testimony to the Alliance about a lot of things, huh!

I also like the confirmation that Proto-Ultima is the last iteration the Allagans made, and that all the visuals of the Ultima Weapon are magitek and Garlean-made. It’s hard to tell, since the earlier Ultima Warrior has them too, but the fact that Ultima Weapon’s horns look like Gaius’s helmet means it was done on purpose… kinda moe. Nero trying to impress his legatus

Interesting that the Heart of Sabik is mentioned so clearly, and that Valens knew he couldn’t recreate it… but still acquired a piece of Ivalician auracite to base the Oversoul system on. Reading this all post-Pandaemonium is enlightening

Seems that the “third eye” looking chestpiece on the cuirass of legatus armour is the synthetic auracite they used for the same purpose as soul crystals! Having a visual on that is neat

Another extremely obvious hint that Nero made the second (red) G-Savior, which only makes Gaius not finding out he was still alive until Tataru’s Grand Endeavour so funny/weird. Nero literally must have been in Werlyt!! The Ironworks were talking about him constantly! Gaius, are you stupid! (yeah)

#lore #the sorrow of werlyt #reactions

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scrollsfromarebornrealm · 2 months

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on our fates alight--holy treachery

"Riven? Riven!" Sebastian shook the smaller Dominant as gently as he could. "Riven!"

"Mmmphh?"

"Riven, wake up." Sebastian let a thread of Darkness creep into his voice. The priest's poking and prodding for him to rest--and those foul potions--had done something at least, Sebastian could feel himself getting stronger--and by reflection, Odin. He watched as Riven's eyes flew open, Valefor jolting her to full awareness.

"Wha--?"

"Get up, get a robe." Sebastian ordered, pulling the covers off and moving as Riven scrambled to obey.

"Is she up?" Augustine demanded, sticking his head in the open doorway. Behind him was movement, House Fortemps guards hurrying back and forth.

"I'm up-what happened?!" Riven snatched up the nearby dressing gown, pulling it around her body.

"We'll explain when everyone's together." Hearing the unspoken question, Augustine shook his head. "We're not under attack, and it's not Eikon-hunters. It's Aymeric."

------ "He's not come back." Lucia finished. "Furthermore, as I was coming here I received word--the Temple Knights stationed at the Vault are mobilizing. I suspect that the Archbishop is about to make a move to arrest all of Ser Aymeric's allies--including all of you."

"Son of a bitch!" Mathye swore. "What was he thinking?! The old man's going to kill him!"

"He wanted answers." Augustine's voice was strained. "He...we can't keep doing this. Ishgard can't keep doing this." Lucia nodded in agreement.

"Thanks to your negotiations with Hilda and her people, we can field a distraction. During that time, I plan on entering the Vault to rescue the lord commander." She said. "However, I know that not all of the city's defenders will have left--and more than likely the Archbishop would have assigned the Ward to guard Ser Aymeric. Therefore--"

"You need a diversion." Riven interjected. The Garlean paladin looked at her, nodding.

"Correct."

"You want us to break into the Vault." Mathye had realized the full implications of Lucia's plan. His eyes widened. "If we do that--"

"The Ward and the remaining defenders will drop everything to throw themselves between us and the Archbishop." Sebastian finished. His lips curved into a dark smile. "It may even empty out the prison, leaving you and the rescue party unmolested."

"What's the other distraction Hilda and the others are providing?" Augustine asked.

"A heretic army massing directly at the Steps of Faith. But it won't last for long." Lucia paused, hesitation now appearing on her face. For the sake of everything, she felt she had to at least address one of the elephants in the room--

"Don't." Mathye and Augustine said at the exact same time. Lucia jolted in surprise, her gaze meeting first Augustine's own, then Mathye's. Something else was regarding her from behind their eyes, a predator uncoiling itself from waiting patiently in the shadows.

"This was going to happen." Augustine spoke--but his voice wasn't his own, it was a woman's. The tone was quiet, filled with a deadly purpose. "Do not feel guilty, daughter. You have given us an opening."

"Augustine--and Halone are right." Sebastian continued as the goddess fell silent. "Ishgard is long past it's breaking point, and the Church has had every chance to come clean. It is on Thordan's head that matters have come to this." He shrugged. "Though perhaps providing the populace with his corpse may fix a great deal of problems."

"We are not assassinating the Archbishop!" Riven snapped, fixing Odin's Dominant with a glare. Sebastian shrugged, while Augustine coughed. Mathye suddenly found the far wall quite interesting. Lucia sighed, shaking her head.

"How much time do you need?" Riven continued.

"As much as you can give." Lucia paused, thinking. "I know the Vault houses tools that can disable and bind Eikons--"

"Don't worry about that. If anything, the sight of Halone attacking her sacred space might scare a good deal of the defenders away." Mathye said. "Even better, I still remember how to get around once we're inside. You rescue Ser Aymeric, and we can charge right up to Thordan's bedroom door."

#ffxiv #ffxiv-ffxvi au (the other one)#on our fates alight

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eemamminy-art · 10 months

Note

having them give something of importance to them for you, as a gift (Lyse and Fordola ^^

having them give something of importance to them for you, as a gift

This is intended to be set right before the endwalker role quest capstone quest, "Bitter Snow." So minor spoilers for that in the location of that quest, and a mention of details from the Fordola side story, "Tales from the Twilight: Set with the Sun."

"Oh, shit. I'm in love with you??" writing prompts

Lyse shifted between each foot, unable to remain still as she waited for General Aldynn to finish speaking with Fordola. Feeling her right eye tingle, Fordola concentrated hard on what was being said to her, the frenetic thoughts bubbling from Lyse threatening to overwhelm her control on her resonance.

When at last Fordola was dismissed Lyse bounded over to the taller woman, hands held behind her back as she twisted and swayed before her. Her blue eyes were so wide and full of joyful eagerness, a little hint of red on her cheeks that puffed up as she bit back a grin.

"I have something for you!" Lyse announced, revealing her hands. She cupped something in between them, carefully unveiling the small object as she watched Fordola for her reaction.

It was a small amulet, a stone in shades of blue resembling a widened eye. Fordola stared at the stone for a moment, then looked back up at Lyse with a small frown. She was well familiar with the custom, of holding such a charm to ward off evil, but Fordola struggled to find faith in the practice.

Naught more than superstition, Fordola thought to herself. How many Ala Mhigans have been turned into blasphemies while holding such a stone? How many have been cut down by beasts and garleans both while clutching it to their breast?

"It's to keep you safe while you're in Garlemald!" Lyse declared, reaching for Fordola's hand and placing it in her palm.

Fordola grimaced, her shoulders becoming tense. "I've the warding scale to keep me safe from tempering while I'm there, remember?" Fordola countered, pushing the amulet back toward Lyse.

"Oh please, I would feel so much better if you took it with you! It belonged to my sister and I always felt safer with it—"

"This belonged to Yda?" Fordola blurted out before Lyse could even finish explaining.

"Yes!" Lyse's eyes shined just a little brighter, "She gave it to me when I was little and we were far from home, it's always brought good luck to me."

Fordola felt a heat in her cheeks, blinking away any emotions that might have been ready to spill forth. She had only spent a fleeting few weeks with Yda all those years ago, but the way Lyse spoke of her so often and so fondly, Fordola felt a closeness with both sisters that she was at times frightened to acknowledge— even to herself.

"I'll take it with me. But only so you're not crying and worrying the whole time I'm gone," Fordola relented with a soft smile.

Lyse flew into her arms, hugging her tightly and pulling her into a kiss before slipping the amulet into Fordola's pocket.

"You know I will anyway," Lyse teased.

#ask meme answers #'I'm in love with you' writing meme #fordolyse #fordola rem lupis #lyse hext #endwalker spoilers #my writing #f/f ship

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yzeltia · 9 months

Text

FFXIVwrite2023 9.Fair

Characters: Fuyu'li cen Zhwan Expansion: Endwalker Rating: G Notes: I had limited resources to make powders work

Fuyu’li flicked his tail a bit, tugging at his clothing to hide his midriff. Behind him, Varshan laughed then patted his back, causing the Miqo’te to stumble forward onto the main path of Balshahn Bazaar. The Garlean soon found himself dusted with color from passers by.

“Ah, sorry Fuyu’li. I am still unused to my own strength in this form,” Varshan apologized, helping the other upright before gently smudging his thumb over his cheek, rubbing powder in with a smile.

The Miqo’t blinked, pulling off his glasses then wiping them with a cloth to no avail before pocketing them with a sigh, “Not exactly a spectacle friendly affair, is it?”

“It seems not. Will this impair your enjoyment? I intended to act as your guide, you may lean on me as you’d like.”

“I cannot see too far out from me; however, I can still appreciate the colours, the smells, and sounds of people enjoying themselves,” Fuyu’li answered, face flushing as his stomach growled.

“I think you’ve neglected taste. Come, let me treat you to Gujia,” Varshan offered, pulling the other’s arm through his before taking him to one of the stalls, taking up one of the dumplings to put to the other’s lips.

The Miqo’te stiffened then opened his mouth, taking a bite of the sweet bread, ears perking at the taste of mixed dried fruit and hint of coconut. Swallowing, he flicked his tail, face tingling from embarrassment.

“I am perrrfectly able to feed myself. Someone of your station should not- Do NOT eat that!”

Varshan let out a small chuckle, finishing off the dumping despite the flustered Miqo’te’s continued protests. With a shake of his head, he pulled the other along, to enjoy more of the festival, “I am just simply Varshan, Fuyu. Come, there’s more to see, and I wish to see it through you…limited as that may be.”

Fuyu’li felt faint, letting himself be dragged along by the other, Radz-at-Han ever a blur of people and colour. Though embarrassed, he felt himself smile, letting himself be led and doted upon. If only for a moment, it seemed the other had put the Thirteenth out of the forefront of his mind. For this peace of mind, he’d endure whatever embarrassment the dragon deigned to throw at him despite the protest.

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #ff14 #ffxiv oc #ff xiv #ffxiv miqo'te #ffxivwrite2023 #ffxiv write 2023 #ffxiv writing #fuyu'li cen zhwan #vrtra #ffxiv vrtra #varshahn

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chysgoda · 10 months

Note

🧡 kissing in bed / lazy kiss / cuddling

*Sets this down, walks away whistling innocently for a few steps before running like hell*

(itty bitty content warning for brief discussion of kinky sex)

Art'imis hummed and wriggled closer to the warm chest at her back. A rumbling chuckle made her ribs shiver pleasantly and a kiss was laid on her shoulder as prelude to amused words, "You're not a big time gladiator anymore lass. Got to get up with the sun like the rest of us working folk."

"I'm still recovering," the raen woman said mulishly. She pushed closer to his chest and pulled the linen sheet over her head. "Healers' orders Ilberd."

"Recovering from Vishap or last night?" Ilberd's rumbling chuckle became a basso laugh. He pulled the sheet away from her and smirked at his bedmate's surprised yelp. He caught one of her flailing hands so he could examine the skin of her wrist. "I don't recall you caring much about healer's orders while I was in you balls deep and had you trussed up so pretty."

Art'imis laughed and turned her head to kiss his cheek. "just another half bell love and then we can go back to responsibilities."

"How about I get that tea of your brewed and I can hold you while you suffer through it." Ilberd turned his head to catch her mouth for a proper kiss.

"That's the best I'll get isn't it?" Art'imis pouted when she leaned back from the kiss. The big Ala Mhigan man chuckled again and tugged on a lock of her hair before he slid out of the bed. Art'imis pulled up the sheet and blanket when her source of heat left the bed. Her eyes fell half closed in a light doze as she watched her lover.

"Friends tell me that the new viceroy in Ala Mhigo is a demon that makes van Baelsar look like a god of compassion."

Art'imis bit back a groan. She couldn't really blame him for that thread of bitterness in his voice. After all the scions had interceded in Ishgard's favor, why not Ala Mhigo? But they'd talked about this so many times, the Eorzean alliance simply couldn't face down a legion with the full support of the Garlean empire. She took a deep breath and released it slowly. "Love, I swear Ala Mhigo's time will come, but right now all that would happen is the Empire would gain three new provinces to bleed dry."

Ilberd walked back to the bed and handed her the mug of tea, "we'll discuss it tomorrow if you've survived all the politics of a state banquet."

Art'imis glared down into the contraceptive tea, her brows furrowing into the patch of scales at the center of her forehead. She let Ilberd pull her back against his chest and relaxed into the heat he radiated. She took a large swallow and gagged. For a crowded second she wasn't sure if she was going to choke or spit up the foul liquid. When she was finally able to swallow she started coughing. "Why do I let you make this? You always over steep it."

Ilberd kissed her horn and chuckled at the shiver that ran down her back and arms, "finish your tea. We have a few extra minutes to enjoy ourselves since Yda is taking Bel to breakfast and then shopping."

"I can't believe I let you talk me into that either," Art'imis grumbled and then forced down the rest of the tea. Ilberd laughed again and put the mug on the night stand. The small woman joined his laugh when he rolled them so his weight pressed her down into the mattress and they enjoyed each other's company.

…. ….

Minfillia caught Art'imis's elbow when the smaller woman swayed as they were walking out of the Rising Stones. They both frowned deeply, "You haven't been following the healer's orders have you?"

The paladin grimaced, "I think the battles with Nabrieales and Vishap took more out of me than I thought."

"And you do not do what the healers tell you to. Bel is better than you for Light's sake."

Art'imis waved a hand dismissively, "it will pass."

The junior sicons shook their heads listening to Minfillia's concerned nagging. It wouldn't be the last time the Warrior of Light pushed her limits to far.

…. ….

"How long will the drug work for?"

"She is no longer protected by the mother crystal's blessing, if she drank all of it she will be weakened enough for your purposes for the next sennight."

"And in return for keeping her out of your plans you'll give me what I need to make the Garleans pay."

"I have always kept my word Captain."

"You'd better Ascian, I know how to end you now."

(I'm having a time so Art gets to take the brunt. I promise I'll write you something happy next)

#ffxiv #ffxiv fan fiction #red head writes a thing #ffxiv ask meme answer #Ilberd Feare #art'imis chysgoda #poor Art #I was blind sided by Ilberd so now she is too

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vulpinmusings · 2 months

Text

How Endwalker's MSQ Should Have Ended

(For clarity, I did enjoy the final duel against Zenos as a gameplay experience and catharsis for having to put up with his BS through the whole expansion, but giving him his fight AFTER finishing the Endsinger felt a little undeserved narratively (at least as far as my WoL is concerned))

"So, here we are, two great warriors at the edge of the universe, with nothing remaining to distract us from the greatest fight of our lives. What say you, my friend?"

The Warrior of Light's lip twisted in utter disgust. "Stop calling me that," they spat. "I am not your friend. You have done nothing to earn the right to call me that. And I refuse to fight you."

"Oh come now," Zenos said, grinning, "is that any way to repay me for helping you keep pace with that prey we just slew?"

"I will admit I couldn't have defeated the Endsinger without you," The Warrior replied, "but I do not owe you anything because of it. If anything, your help has balanced the scales between us." Zenos opened his mouth to retort, but the Warrior pressed on, giving full vent to the seemingly endless frustration they had been holding onto ever since Fandaniel's damnable towers had started appearing. "We were even after the conflict over Othard and Ala Mihgo. I was helping to stoke rebellion against the Garlean Empire, and you were defending territories you had authority over. You kicked my ass a couple times, and then I rallied and kicked yours back after you fused with that abomination among primals. You died, and that should have been the end of it, but NO, you not only spat in Nald'thal's faces and came back to life but then proceeded to take every opportunity you could find to interrupt my efforts to save the entire bloody star and its reflections from annihilation just so you could get a petty little rematch."

Zenos brushed off the entire rant with a dismissive wave. "Yes, yes, he said, "I was a little hesitant to acknowledge that you were already pursuing a new grand fight, but-"

"Enough," the Warrior shouted, throwing their weapon on the ground, or what passed for ground at least. "You just don't get it, do you? I take no joy in fighting primals and gods for the thrill in the moment. The only joy I get from those fights, the only reason I keep fighting, is knowing that doing so protects Eorzea, nay, the entire star! I am one of a very small handful of people who can face down rogue primals without being tempered, and recently the things I've been obliged to stand up to are so powerful that the only allies I can call upon without fearing for their lives are other versions of myself. Fighting you again, here and now, is utterly pointless. You are so far from being a threat to the people and places I care about that I would only raise my blade against you out of self-defense." They knelt down, retrieved their weapon, and then rose and pulled out their emergency teleportation device. "Here's something you probably don't know about this location," they said. "It only came into existence because of the dynamis of all the Meteia gathered here. Now that they're dead, it's only our two wills keeping it together. I wonder, then, if your determination alone can sustain it, and for how long? Goodbye, Zenos, and please stay dead this time." With a final smirk at the horrified expression on Zenos' face, the Warrior triggered the device and returned to the Ragnarok and their friends.

It was time to head home.

#final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #endwalker spoilers #zenos viator galvus #zenos yae galvus #wol #writing

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onwesterlywinds · 9 months

Text

PROMPT #12: Dowdy

The captain of the Queensguard knocked on her door for the third time with far more forceful insistence.

"If you don't come out from there in two minutes," she snapped, "it'll be my head on the line."

Vera's lord husband was a patient man in many respects, but he did not abide tardiness in any form - unless, of course, it came directly from the emperor. Every bell of his schedule was accounted for; he even blocked out time for how long it would take him to traverse the corridors of the palace. He had expected the same discipline in Vera ever since their wedding, the same rigid punctuality, and would make it quite clear to her whenever she failed in his eyes.

And despite their name, the Queensguard very much reported to the viceroy.

"I'm finishing my makeup," Vera explained for the umpteenth time.

The doorknob rattled - then there came the sound of the inevitable key scraping in the lock, and the door flew open. Fordola stormed in with all the fury of an invader. "You've been 'finishing your makeup' for twenty bloody minutes. I've watched you do it in under five most mornings this week."

"Sometimes, believe it or not," said Vera, unable to keep her voice from rising, "people make mistakes. And outside of washing one's entire face, mistakes in kohl are not so simple to undo." Even now, she had to hope that no one would look too closely at the slight smear under her right eye.

Fordola levied one of her signature scoffs and crossed her arms over her chest. "Enough of this. You look fine - beautiful, even." The venom in her voice made it clear what she thought of such a distinction. "Is that what you need to get your arse moving, my lady?"

"I need," said Vera, "just another moment of silent concentration. Before my hand slips again."

Blessedly, Fordola gave it to her, and without any of the huffing Vera had come to expect. With only another couple of strokes of her brush and a single line of her pencil, she was finished, her shadows perfectly balanced. "And there we have it. I'm ready."

But Fordola did not move. She continued staring at Vera, and herself, in the ornate desktop mirror that had allegedly once belonged to Mad King Theodoric's mother. "Why even bother?" she muttered.

"What?"

At first, Vera could only interpret her words as referring to her impending meeting with the viceroy in the throne room. Then she saw where Fordola's gaze had fallen: to the ceramic bowl of kohl powder atop the table, its lid still off to one side.

"Don't be daft. I know you hear what they say about you - Livia and all the rest. You'll never be Garlean enough for any of them. It's why His Radiance married you off and dumped you here."

Vera did not stand from her stool. She stared back into the mirror at Fordola's face, at the bitterness clenched in the curve of her mouth, and realized only then that she could not find it in herself to be angry at Fordola for the words she parroted. "I don't wear makeup to look Garlean, Fordola," she said. "Besides, it was Ala Mhigans who invented it."

The young captain could only stare at her, as if she had spoken in some language that belonged to neither of them.

"Thousands of years ago, we wore eyeliner and eye shadow to protect our vision from the sun and, yes, intimidate our enemies on the battlefield. From our ancestors, it spread to Thavnair and Ul'dah through trade. Only now that the Garleans have deemed it a luxury do they think themselves the arbiters of its use." She made to pick up her brushes, to set the lid back onto the kohl, and hesitated at the look on Fordola's face. "…You should try it. See how you like it."

"Absolutely not," she snapped.

"I think it would suit your features."

Something in that statement stunned Fordola enough for Vera to guide her onto the makeup stool. For Fordola, she scarcely needed a plan: she employed bold strokes above and below the eyes, traditional yet masculine in a way that made her irises seem to shine with the same colors as the tattoo upon her cheek. She was finished within a matter of seconds, not minutes; all the same, Fordola took only a moment to admire herself before standing with a scowl. "We're late. And now everyone will see the reason why."

"Or," Vera shot back, "they'll see we look like warriors."

All the same, they rushed to the throne room with as quick of a stride as they could muster, turning the heads of the guards more for their haste than their aesthetics.

The viceroy sat upon the throne, much as he usually did at that hour of the day, and the first petitioner had already been granted admission. His words faded into silence as she approached, until the echoes of her heels against the polished tile filled the chamber.

"Vera," said Gaius van Baelsar. "My instructions were for you to join me for petitions at noon. The time is now twelve minutes past."

Behind his shoulder, Gaius' Undercity minder sneered at her. The prick in red armor whose name she could never remember whispered something to Livia, who bit back a snort of laughter.

Vera readjusted her stance, trying to channel every ilm of her father's posture. "I was tending to an urgent personal correspondence."

Gaius' brow furrowed. "More urgent than your attention to your people? The people for whom you and I are responsible?"

She turned back to the Ala Mhigan man standing, his hands clasped together in front of him, at the foot of the throne. "…No," she conceded. "I apologize, my lord."

But Gaius said nothing in reply, and merely gestured to the man before them.

To him, Vera inclined her head. "I apologize, countryman-" It would have to do, as she had arrived too late to hear his official imperial rank. "-that other matters prevented my timely presence."

The wording was petty, and she knew it; later, she would hear an entire lecture from her lord husband on accountability, and the burden of rule. There would be entire missives sent to Solus and her father about her impertinence, and her selfishness, and a host of other imagined failings. For the time being, Gaius merely sighed and said, "Fordola."

"Yes, ser."

"…See that vanity is removed from her daily schedule."

#FFXIVWrite #FFXIVWrite 2023 #Ashelia Riot #FUCKED-UP VERA AUS MY BELOVED.#This one has been floating around in my head for a couple weeks! Enjoy!

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blindingspark · 1 year

Text

Feather Light

Meeting in the late hours in a place between the Gyr Abanian peaks and the Empire-controlled capital of Ala Mhigo, the Warrior of Light and crown prince find themselves indulging in learning more of their adversary and companion- drawing back layers only permitted to be seen by the other.

Rating: General

Pairing: Zenos/WoL

Notes: In this house we go full throttle with touch-starved!Zenos

The arrangement had started curiously at best after their fateful second meeting across the sea in Doma; sneaking away in the dead of night beneath the nose of the Resistance with the next in line for Garlemalds throne to share in his company, even if the Crown Prince viewed the role itself as nothing more than a title and an obligation.

As the days passed, however, the prince and the 'Warrior of Light' - sworn enemies on paper and in battle- had begun to linger in the others presence more often as they learned more of the other beyond their titles, beyond the facades they wore in front of their peers; simply two souls with more restlessness than they could openly admit.

A small abandoned town within the Gyr Abanian peaks had become a secret meeting place for them, and had somehow managed to remain free from intrusions on either side of the conflict; the matter of being discovered was not an if, but a when, which hung over the two like a thick fog; oft being pushed aside with another bout of reassurances that the next time would be the last meeting, as weakly said as someone who hesitated letting another go...

"Do you know this one?" Zenos' voice, calm as a rolling wave, carried through the air in the worn church they had explored this night and to the au ra's ear, pulling their attention away from the musty old books they had begun to lightly skim through. He stood with his back to them, glancing over his shoulder before motioning with a nod of the head to the statue looming at the far end.

Their brow furrowed, walking up the aisle as they tried deciphering the figure beneath the poor lighting and untended overgrowth,

"Hmmh… Nymeia perhaps," they muttered, now standing beside the garlean prince, mirroring his stance and crossing their arms, "Watcher of the celestial bodies, goddess of fate…"

They looked sidelong up at their confidant, "I thought you would have known about them, purely for the sake of knowledge."

He hummed faintly, "Studied, aye… but I've no need to remember their every detail."

The mage nodded, their gaze lingering on him as he seemed… calm, a genuine calm that was unlike his steady, unmoving coldness upon the battlefield.

“Which of these deities have you sworn yourself to, I wonder,” he thought aloud, shifting his weight from one boot to the other, “Perhaps by true belief, or happenstance from your upbringing?”

“Curious of my past now, are you?” they mused, catching a glimpse of a smirk from him in their peripheral and running their fingers through their hair, stopping mid-stroke as they pondered, “I grew up in a household that revered the kami and one of the Twelve, though it was more out of familiarity than unquestioning worship, especially after we had left the Steppe. I had taken to studying the Twelve as a whole during my days in Kugane, however, and admittedly still only have general knowledge of them… I find them rather fascinating, regardless.”

He uttered a grunt of acknowledgement as he listened, prompting Auri to tilt their head as they looked at him and gave a teasing grin, “No biting remark about my ‘savage’ beliefs or that of my family?”

“Not this time, I’m afraid,” he chuckled dryly, “You and I grew up in vastly different worlds, though that is certainly unquestionable…" a pause, "I wonder what your family would say.”

Their brow perked, “About you?”

He remained silent, allowing the mage to finish ruffling their hair this time, “I’m sure they would be stunned, to say the least. We largely kept out of the way of the Empire, so learning their child has grown close with the current Crown Prince would certainly throw them for a loop.”

This coaxed a softened sound from him, “Indeed.”

“May I…” they began after a moment of thought, weighing where they stood and wondering if they were about to tread into precarious territory… “May as I ask about yours?”

A heavy silence followed, and Zenos’ gaze fell to the base of the statue; the impression that it had been some time since he had recalled such details was not lost to the au ra,

“What is there to say…? I scarce knew my dame- she grew ill and passed not long after I was born, and my sire… His Radiance, seldom acknowledged me. It was oft months between when I would see him, leaving me to learn, to train, to exist surrounded by caretakers who had no more humanity in their actions than automatons. Going about their days in idle routine and appeasing my father simply by keeping me alive and tended to.”

A chill slowly crept through Auri as they listened, watching his unbothered posture and expression as he spoke of his childhood- the myriad of emotions stewing within themselves at learning such a personal part of their companions past… slowly piecing together how Zenos grew into the man that stood before them now.

Subconsciously, their hand reached out and lightly touched his forearm, seeing his brows furrow and light blue eyes lock onto their hand- which they retrieved immediately,

“I- I’m sorry I should have…” they exhaled through their nose, craning their neck to look up at him directly, “Zenos, are you alright with touch?”

For once, they could not rightly place the look in his eyes as he lingered on them. He often shifted between staring through someone to a too-intense focus, something which still startled Auri on occasion, yet this time it seemed his mind had turned in a way he had not needed it to for some time.

Zenos yae Galvus, Crown Prince of Garlemald, terror of Ala Mihgo… lost for words.

Shifting his weight, he turned slightly to face them, reaching out to take one of their hands and after a brief moment of consideration pulled it to press their palm to his chest, his eyes moving up to meet theirs with an unusual look yet the message was clear enough to discern: action where words could not suffice.

They waited for his small nod then let their gaze fall to where their hand had been placed, splaying their fingers and feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath their palm. The mage inhaled slowly, stepping closer and reaching with their free hand to rest on his other arm, their thumb moving in a small, soothing back and forth motion as they tested the waters.

He was tense.

Their attention lifted to him and offered a look of sincerity, “If you want me to stop, tell me… please-”

“Don’t.” his voice was sharp, though not with anger as they had worried, “...Don’t.”

Nodding slowly, the mage lingered then began their gentle traversal as the garlean eased his hold over the hand on his chest, slowly running their hand along his chest and down his other arm, eventually reaching his hands; calloused yet slender, the topography of his hands intrigued them- and not merely for the fact their own were dwarfed by his if they were to compare.

They focused on one hand- his right, noting the slight padding on the palm of his fingerless gloves, briefly remembering the tale he had regaled to them about the training he had experienced in his younger days, how he had cut down his instructor who had no qualms about his goal to kill the princeling, and only succeeding after embedding a shard of crystal into his palm to force a moment of aetheric manipulation- a feat otherwise unachievable to a born Garlean. Auri's expression was somber as they recalled, holding the scarred hand as best they could and pulling it close to their face, placing a soft kiss on his palm; the sound of him letting out a trembling breath gave them pause,

“I can stop-”

He shook his head, the look in his eyes unlike anything the mage had seen in him before.

They placed another kiss on his palm after a pause, pulling their head back finding themselves tracing the tendon lines on his wrist and along his forearm, moving closer as they returned their attention to lightly grazing his frame with their hands, testing the waters and watching for signs of discomfort,

“I take it you've never been touched like this…?” they inquired gently, hands pausing in their journey and settling on his upper arms, the look on his face speaking volumes more than his words,

“No… no I have not.” his voice was strangely quiet, not carrying the usual rolling, poetic tone he often spoke with.

Another nod from the mage- deciding against pressing for more answers- and they resumed. Their fingers delicately traced the lines of his shoulders, finding themselves standing on tiptoes to reach… a streak of bravery made them pull slightly, watching him lean down at their coaxing and allowing them to explore further; Auri offered a smile, one hand now reaching his jaw and resting there while the other moved further and brushed the strands of long blond out of his face and behind his ear.

His gaze fixated entirely on them, breath slow and deep as he leaned into their touch.

Their fingers slowly brushed through his hair, feeling the silklike strands as they combed and gingerly massaged his scalp with their claws, his breathing hitching at their gentle motions. Their other hand carefully mapped out his face, taking in every detail from the height of his cheekbone to the curve of his ear, eventually brushing their thumb along his cheek and startling them from their own trance upon feeling him reach up to grasp their hand before they could pull away, turning his head to return the gesture from earlier: lips pressing to their palm and lingering.

The mage held their breath as they watched, waiting to see what he would do next as their mind steadily turned. He sighed at last, quiet as he loosened his hold on their hand and moved his head down a touch, his mouth now grazed the tendon lines of their wrist, scarcely any pressure applied,

"Now, now, your highness," the au ra gently chided as they watched him, "Bite me or draw my blood otherwise and I'll be most cross with you."

A faint smile curled his lips along with a quietly amused chuckle, "Nay, such would be poor sport from me, my friend…"

The prince lingered, his smirk fading just as quickly as it had appeared, and even through his hooded gaze the mage could see his mind turning through the gentle touch upon his cheek,

"I cannot recall the last time I felt something such as this. All my life I have gone about my days the same as the last; the morrow was merely routine outside of the occasions when I needed to deign the company of citizenry or high society with my presence. Seldom did I desire or acknowledge the aid of another even before I tended to my own wounds from training or combat, I had the knowledge and oft utilized it…"

Auri remained focused on the garlean, listening as he seemed to… wander through his thoughts and gave voice to them. It was not uncommon for him to be quiet during their evenings together, something they had assumed came to be as he only truly spoke when needed, his words purposeful through the steady drawl and flowered phrasing… such an observation made his current state all the more unusual to them,

"Curious…" he muttered after a lengthy bout of silence, earning a puzzled look from Auri even as they remained quiet, watching his steady gaze lift slightly to stare at the wall on the far end of the aged building, "Forgive me, this feeling is rather strange. I find myself hesitating, for reasons I know naught as to why, and yet..."

The au ra's brows knit together further as they listened, his words hardly carrying the steadiness and certainty they had grown accustomed to in their short time together; listening instead to the quiet, near-aimless nature of his thoughts as they were given voice,

"And yet, I find myself unable to draw back from this feeling- this sensation, as though once I let go you may simply…" Zenos trailed off again, his eyes closing again and pressing their hand more firmly to his cheek, "The thought of no longer feeling your hand upon me should I let go… it aches within me- and yet I cannot place why…"

Auri's eyes widened as they felt the crown prince tense once more, almost… trembling? A sensation so faint they doubted it came from him, yet they reached with their other hand to cup his remaining cheek, their thumbs moving in steady, soothing motions as they noted his tensing and relaxing shoulders with each hastened breath,

"Steady… steady," They uttered, never wavering in their gestures while they attempted to soothe and granting a soft smile, "I'll not vanish should I let go, I promise… so long as you would have me, I may have you as well."

They had hardly noticed the way Zenos settled upon his knees before them until they felt his remaining arm slither around their middle to pull them close, holding the au ra a bit too tight against his frame- Auri let out a small huff at the gesture and it's attempted tenderness, adjusting their own arm to rest around his shoulders for some relief; feeling him take notice and easing his hold just a touch. From this new angle, the au ra uttered a faint sigh and tentatively rested their head atop his, their thoughts turning at how their companion had revealed how starved for touch he was… perhaps how deeply he had craved painless acts of connection such as this and yet never had the thought itself cross his mind- not that they could blame him, knowing now how he had simply survived in idleness and tedium in his twenty-six summers upon this star.

"Speak your mind, if you wish," Auri muttered, feeling his grasp on their hand ease at last as he turned and rested his head upon the juncture between their neck and shoulder, a faint- if not somber- smile crossed the mage's lips at the adjustment and sighed, "Or not… you may let your actions speak for you."

A grunt of acknowledgement was all the crown prince offered in return, his other arm joining the first in holding the au ra to him and slowly easing the stark tension within his body.

They knew naught how much time passed as they embraced, an instant or an eternity simply felt the same, before the garlean at last loosened his hold and looked up to meet the warrior of light's eyes. His expression was languid as they had grown accustomed to, though his gaze carried a glimmer of… yearning, perhaps? The observation remained as such within the au ra as they reached to gently comb their fingers through his hair once more, speaking at a near-whisper,

"We should depart soon… unfortunately, time is not our companion and the company we keep will surely come looking soon enough."

His eyes closed, sighing and leaning into their touch again before he loosened his hold and stood, watching Auri pull back their hands once more- resting them on his chest instead,

"Aye, and we must play our parts a little while longer." Zenos replied, his usual drawl slipping into place once more even as his tone did not carry the usual commanding air. They soon stepped away from the other to find their respective traveling attire, a more comfortable silence filling the building they had hidden themselves in before they made ready to part ways.

The blond finished fastening one last buckle on his traveling armor when the feeling of a smaller clawed hand on his arm drew his attention, looking over to the source and seeing the rather sheepish expression on Auri's face,

"Thank you for… for telling me." They said, watching the prince linger briefly before nodding once,

"You have shown me your own scars and told your tales, telling you of my own is a fair reward."

Another smile from the mage was given, feeling the steady pat on his gauntlet before watching them turn and begin their venture, giving him one last look over their shoulder,

" 'Til we meet again…?"

"As always."

#Cata Writes #zenos x wol #zenoswol #zenos yae galvus #ffxiv #otp: Aurinos

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otherworldseekers · 9 months

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FFXIVwrite 2023 prompt 6: Ring

This prompt is written in Sharlayan AU!

Nero gripped his pen with nearly crushing force as a knock sounded on his office door. Would these students never leave him in peace?

“Come,” he called, doing his best to maintain a professional tone.

Viera ears poked through the doorway, followed by a brunette head and the tall form of, he recognized with some irritation, his student Iole. She flashed him a dazzling smile and closed the door behind her, taking the seat on the other side of his desk.

Nero set aside his pen and folded his hands on the desk in front of him, summoning as much patience as he could. “Yes, Iole? What is it now?”

“Oh, Professor Scaeva, I was working on my translation assignment and I just could figure out this word here. I know it changes based on context…” She was clutching her textbook in front of her as she leaned as far over the desk as she could. And batting her eyelashes at him in a way that was surely meant to be enticing but just looked silly.

Nero sighed. He was reasonably sure this girl didn’t give a fig for Ancient Allagan history. Plenty of students took his classes because he was something of a curiosity, a native Garlean immigrant to Sharlayan shores. They wanted to know more about the world beyond their borders and were always disappointed when he informed them at he had arrived to his new homeland at the tender age of seven and could tell them nothing of Ilsabard. He would never fault a young person for displaying a healthy curiosity about the world and many of them stayed on to discover they enjoyed his lectures.

But there were others who took his class for what he considered a much more dubious reason. His wife would laugh as usual but it truly vexed him when he had to deal with this sort of thing.

“Miss Addinell,” he interrupted, holding up his left hand between them. “Do you see this ring?”

The student nodded.

“Good. You are not lacking as a student so presumably you understand its significance.”

The girl had the decency to blush. “It… It means you’re married.”

“Indeed. Have you met my wife, by chance?”

“Er… No, professor.”

She was beginning to look truly uncomfortable. Good.

“My wife could explain to you the rules by which Allagan forms of address are transformed in great and enthusiastic detail. I am afraid I do not have the time or the patience for a lesson on so simple a subject. If you failed to note down the particulars when we went over them weeks ago, pray consult a fellow student’s notes.” As he spoke he finished assigning grades to the last two papers on his desk with a flourish. “Here’s your essay from last week, by the way, in which you display a perfectly satisfactory understanding of the subject so my question, Miss Addinell, is why are you really here?”

The girl’s mouth had dropped open at this tirade. She jumped to her feet, her eyes darting everywhere but toward him. “I think I’d better go. I… I made a mistake.”

“A wise decision, Miss Addinell.”

She ran for the door and Nero wondered if he would ever see her in his class again. She was a capable enough student, after all. She just needed to get her priorities straight.

With a relieved sigh, Nero rose from his chair and put his jacket on. Finally he was able to go home. The truth was he despised teaching and longed to be out in the field once more. But at home his adored wife would be anticipating his return with their newborn daughter. And for now that was enough.

#FFXIVwrite #FFXIVwrite2023 #Severia x Nero #Sharlayan AU #Nero tol Scaeva #my writing #Through Seasons and Centuries

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raelly-writing · 1 year

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In from the Cold - Thancred/WoL

Look at that, I managed to scrape together teaspoons of creative energy and actually finish something. x_x

Endwalker spoilers.

----

It was strange how the cold seemed all the more biting in the wake of the chaos that had ensued when the Garlean refugees in their midst had suddenly attacked. Thancred thought his coat did little to help, thick as it were, as he helped move the subdued Garleans into one of the abandoned buildings where they could be safely confined until the control could be broken.

Though, perhaps the chill crawling over his skin had more to do with the tower and its oppressive presence than the frigid night air. His ability to manipulate aether may be gone, but the wave that’d been emitted from the nightmarish structure had felt so unnatural and filthy. He could only imagine how it’d felt for those more in tune with aether.

“The perimeter has been checked, and that was the last of them,” he said as he approached Urianger and Y’shtola. They were both huddling under the awning to the storehouse where the Garleans had been taken, almost as if lingering closer to the structure would let them absorb some of the heat from the inside of the building. Once he drew closer, Thancred noted the subtle tiredness in his friends’ eyes, one he knew both would deny staunchly were it to be mentioned. It’d been a long evening so far, for all of them.

“‘Tis most fortuitous,”Urianger replied, “though they struggled most fiercely, neither our allies nor the people of Garlemald hath come to grievous harm.”

“Aye, and none in our force showed any sign of falling under the tower’s sway,” Y’shtola added as she crossed her arms. Though he assumed she could not see the tower quite the same way as they did, Thancred noticed how her pale gaze nonetheless flickered to where it loomed above the frozen landscape.

“Well, that’s good to know,” he drawled. “Would be unfortunate were the wards to suddenly fail.”

Urianger’s small chuckle manifested itself as a puff of white in the frigid air. “Quite so, but nonetheless I shall -”

“There you all are!”

They all turned to see Alphinaud come running towards them with Estinien trailing behind him. The openly concerned look on the former’s face was enough for Thancred to immediately feel on edge, but the worried furrow to the latter’s brow was all the more alarming. “What’s wrong?” he called out.

“Have any of you seen Viana?” Alphinaud asked before he’d even come to a full stop.

Thancred frowned and looked at Urianger and Y’shtola, who both shook their heads.

“Nay, I hath not. Mine endeavour to provide succour to those who hath sustained injuries kept mine focus solely on the task before me,” Urianger replied. “Nor have I seen her,” Y’sthola added. “Perhaps she’s still aiding some soldiers in securing our perimeter?” Her gaze shifted to meet Thancred’s, and she immediately pressed her lips together in a dismayed look. “Though I assume from the concerned scowl on Thancred’s face that he did not see her out there either.”

Thancred clenched his jaw and shook his head as he crossed his arms. Worry knotted in his chest, but he kept it out of his voice when he spoke, “I did not.” Mindcontrolled or not, a garlean soldier - nevermind a civilian - was no match for Viana. She couldn’t have been injured in the scuffles that’d ensued.

“She’s not responding on her linkpearl either.” In moments like these, Alphinaud’s young age was all too evident in his voice, wavering as it were with concern. His wide eyes looked between them all, clearly wishing for someone to dispel his fears. “I know she can take care of herself, but I worry all the same.”

“Of all the bloody times to pull a vanishing act,” Estinien grunted as he stared off towards the wilderness. “Alisaie and G’raha are looking around right now. We should spread out and cover more ground, see if we can find any clues.”

A heavy sense of unease settled over them. There was an implication to Estinien’s gruff words, one that was all too possible. The unease knotted in Thancred’s abdomen.

“Do you think the attack may have been a diversion?” Y’shtola asked sharply.

Estinien’s armour creaked as he shrugged his shoulders. “I wouldn’t put it past them.”

“Ascians do have an unpleasant habit of appearing out of nowhere,” Alphinaud muttered.

“Well then, let’s fan out and meet back here once we’ve checked all around camp,” Thancred declared. The unease had seeped out into his limbs, resulting in a familiar sense of restlessness. “Be discreet in your questions, we shouldn’t spread more alarm just yet, but someone must have seen something. Alphinaud, go and inform Lucia and Lyse of the situation.”

Grim nods were exchanged before they all spread out in separate directions.

....

The agitated energy that crawled beneath his skin only grew more intense as he searched about the camp, each person who said they had not seen the Warrior of Light recently making a dark feeling of unease bristle in his chest. Estinien’s theory seemed more likely by the minute.

Seven Hells, it wasn’t like her to go off on her own without informing them, so what other reason could there be for her sudden disappearance?

“Any luck?” G’raha called out as Thancred stalked towards where he, Alisaie and Urianger had reconvened at the edge of camp.

“None,” he replied grimly.

Alisaie crossed her arms and looked about the camp. “Where could she have gone? She wouldn’t have let herself be taken without a fight!”

“Aye, and she’s hardly the quietest of fighters,” G’raha agreed. Though he did not let it show much on his face, evidently falling back on the same discipline that’d served him well as the Exarch, Thancred could spot the occasional agitated twitch of the tip of his tail.

“Verily,” Urianger chimed in. “Lest she was not given the chance to draw her blade.”

“That wouldn’t have stopped her,” Alisaie shot back immediately with a tone of sheer reality defying determination. “We all know how ferocious that warrior spirit gets when she unleashes it. Someone must have heard or seen something!”

Thancred turned his head to survey the rest of the camp while listening to the other three with half a ear. The thought sent ice down his spine. Had they really taken her fast enough for her to not even have time to draw her gunblade? After the fighting that’d ensued after the tower’s call, the ground was littered with tracks, so it was hardly something he could have looked for to figure out where she might have been taken.

It did not take long before the others returned as well, with no helpful information to share. Except for Y’shtola, who arrived last with a thoughtful crease between her brows.

“One soldier saw her in the middle of the camp,” she informed them. “Unfortunately, he lost track of her when the fighting broke out.”

Looks of understanding were exchanged amidst them all. “Well then,” Thancred drawled as he crossed his arms, somehow managing to keep the concern out of his voice as he spoke, “we’d truly be fools to think it was a coincidence she disappeared right after the first wave.”

“Great,” Alisaie exclaimed. “But where do we look? We have no trail to follow!”

Thancred couldn’t help but sympathise with her concern and frustration at that moment. Still, as much as he wanted to, there was nothing to gain in marching off blindly to look for Viana either.

Suddenly, G’raha perked up, his ears rising in a sign of alertness as he stared off into the gloom of the night. “Wait- yes, that’s her! Down the road!”

Alisaie whipped around, exclaiming a relieved ‘Finally’ as she took off running towards the figure with G’raha in tow.

Even with the snowy landscape and bright moon, Thancred had to take a moment to focus on the dark figure they were rushing towards. Indeed, it was Viana calmly strolling towards them, seemingly no worse for wear. “Well then, case closed,” he breathed.

Barely had the words left his mouth in a puff of white mist before the wave of relief was abruptly drowned out by a bone-chilling feeling that sent his hair standing on end. Every well-honed survival instinct screamed at him that something was not right.

“That’s her? Over there?”

Y’shtola’s confused words made his breath catch in his throat, and he barely heard Urianger confirm what they were all seeing. A sharp spike of adrenaline rushed through his body as his muscles tensed. He knew how Viana moved, how she walked, the years of wielding an axe still dictating how she carried herself to this day. Hells, Viana would have shouted and hurried towards them, eager to reassure them that she was alright.

Whoever, whatever, it was on the road, they - it - was stalking towards Alisaie and G’raha like a predator who had at last sighted its prey and was about to pounce, razor sharp claws and teeth at the ready.

“Something’s wrong.”

Estinien’s low growl was like the starting shot to a race, snapping the tension that hung in the air. “That’s not her,” Thancred snarled. Without another word, he drew his gunblade and rushed forward, Estinien at his side, leaving behind their confused companions.

The cold night air burned in his lungs as he shouted, “Alisaie, G’raha, look out!”

G’raha had already stiffened in alertness, clearly having realised too that whoever it was before them was not Viana.

Wasting no time, Alisaie whipped out her rapier and G’raha raised his staff at the ready, yet they both hesitated, clearly unsure whether to attack or not. Was it merely an illusion, meant to look like Viana, or?

Just then, an ominous red light began to dance around the impostor, and to Thancred’s horror a shadowy figure manifested in it - a voidsent, bearing a sinister scythe. As it raised its scythe, it seemed to swell with the crimson aether that seeped from the impostor’s form, clearly feeding it more power as it readied its attack.

Everything seemed to slow down.

It was too far, he wouldn’t make it in time. G’raha shifted to the side, as though to block Alisaie from whatever strike that was coming.

A dark shape moved in the corner of Thancred’s eye, stark against the white snow banks at the side of the road.

Another enemy?

His gaze snapped to it, ready to assess the new threat, only to see a Garlean soldier struggle through the snow banks at the side of the road. The soldier raised their arm, and for a heartbeat he thought they were throwing some sort of incendiary device - but no, with a motion Thancred registered as near desperate, the soldier threw their sword.

Shit, Alisaie and G’raha hadn’t seen the soldier. Thancred made to shout a warning, but the words died in his throat when the sword struck the voidsent, scattering its form moments before its attack would have hit.

Had the soldier just shouted something?

The impostor seemed vexed as they turned their attention towards the soldier, just as they broke into a staggering run. More crimson aether began to dance around Viana’s form as the impostor turned to face the soldier’s desperate charge, while G’raha and Alisaie took the chance to scamper back and put some distance from them.

Rather than attacking the impostor, the Garlean soldier threw themself at them, knocking the being masquerading as Viana to the frozen ground.

Thancred slid to a halt as he put himself in front of G’raha and Alisaie, gunblade drawn and at the ready. Behind him, he could hear the footsteps of the others coming to a stop as well. His pulse was thundering in his ears while his gaze darted between the impostor and the soldier, trying to piece together the strange events and what they meant.

The pained, distressed sounds were made all the harrowing through the helmet’s voice filter as the soldier convulsed while clutching at their head, then suddenly they tensed up and went limp.

Perhaps they’d been fighting the tower’s control? No matter, there was a bigger threat present. His focus shifted to the impostor, who was just picking themselves up off the ground.

It made his heart clench to see such a cold, emotionless expression etched onto Viana’s features as the impostor let their gaze slide over their group one by one.

The air was tense. But before anyone had a chance to speak, much less move, a far too familiar inky void appeared in the air, the shadows dispersing to reveal Fandaniel staring down at them.

“Sadly, that is all we have time for today,” he declared with a cruel tilt to his lips as he floated downwards and came to stand in front of the collapsed soldier. “The effect has run its course, into your own bodies you must go.”

The dread, worry and anger that simmered in Thancred’s veins rose to a boil when the realisation hit him like a punch to his gut.

“You what?” Alphinaud exclaimed, dread making his voice waver for a moment.

“Bastard!” Alisaie shouted as she stepped forward. Gritting his teeth, Thancred’s fingers clenched around the hilt of his gunblade as he took a running start, ready to unleash a cartridge fueled strike at the Ascian.

Immediately, there was a warning glint in Fandaniel’s eyes as he raised his finger to his lips in a shushing motion. Thancred skid to a halt as his eyes immediately darted to where Viana’s puppeteered body was still eyeing them with the same cold disinterest as before. Hells, what if the damned Ascian did something to harm her physically?

None of his companions seemed to dare to move either, most likely struck numb by the same fear as him. Zenos wanted one thing, but Fandaniel seemed… unpredictable to say the least. That he had foregone the Ascian’s traditional garb was a statement in itself - he was not part of their mission to restore the lost ancient world.

He had his own goals to achieve.

Seeming satisfied that they weren’t about to make a move towards him, Fandaniel smirked and dipped into a bow that would have been more at home on a lavish court stage than the wartorn, frozen landscape surrounding them. “But where are my manners?”, Fandaniel drawled in a mocking tone, just as a gust of ice cold wind tore at his robes and whipped up the loose snow around him. ”You have all travelled so very far, and I have yet to pay my respects.” Straightening his back once more, he regarded them all with cool contempt. “Though in my defence, I was ill prepared to receive so many uninvited guests. As such, preliminary entertainments were in order.”

It was infuriating how casual Fandaniel was about explaining his motives. Of course everything had been to slow them down. The refugees, the soldiers - all those lives, just fodder to be tossed into their way so he could have time to complete his plans. Thancred clenched his jaw, glaring. What sort of unhinged villain had Emeth-Selch and Elidibus’ deaths unleashed?

“Predictable to a fault!” Fandaniel continued to gloat while gesticulating in a wild, theatrical manner. “And so my plan approaches completion unhindered.” Leaning forward, he smiled cooly while staring at them from underneath his hood with wide, manic eyes. “Anima will soon have absorbed the requisite amount of aether, and then shall come the spectacle to end all spectacles!” His grin widened, and he threw his arms out wide, “The eldest and most powerful of primals will awaken, and all shall bear witness to the Final Days!”

Movements behind Fandaniel caught Thancred’s attention and his heart skipped when he saw the Garlean soldier struggle to their hands and knees. He couldn’t be sure, but something in his gut told him it wasn’t an ordinary soldier. It seemed just the sort of cruel trick Fandaniel would play.

The impostor - Zenos presumably - turned towards the struggling soldier and crouched down to eye level with them. He was saying something, but Thancred was wholly unable to make out what.

“To the Hells with you, we’ll stop whatever it is you’re planning!” Alisaie snarled.

Fandaniel tilted his head to the side and tutted. “My, my, such poor manners for one of the heroes who bested old Emet-Selch and Elidibus,” he replied with mock shock. Despite his jeering and flippant attitude, his steely attention never slipped from them, and Thancred didn’t doubt for one second that he’d intervene if any of them made one move towards Zenos. “Now, my lord has quite looked forward to this little reunion, so let’s give him a chance to say some parting words, for now, hm?”

Right then, the soldier collapsed once more with a clatter of metal against ice.

“If you are quite done, my lord,” Fandaniel spoke without looking away from them, “I believe we have not yet finished setting the stage properly.”

Thancred narrowed his eyes. There was a hint of bitterness in Fandaniel’s tone - a well concealed edge to his words that seemed ill fitting with his alliance with Zenos. Perhaps not everything was quite as it seemed between the two of them.

Straightening his back without rising up, Zenos drawled, “Very well.” A chill raced down Thancred’s spine. Hells, it was just plain wrong hearing the emotionless inflection in Viana’s voice.

A forced, polite smile curled Fandaniel’s lips as he waved his hand, gathering aether around it. Dark, purple shadows danced around Viana’s body, and out of sheer reflex Thancred held his breath in fear.

“Don’t you dare harm her,” Alphinaud exclaimed from somewhere behind him.

“Why, my lord would be most unhappy were I to harm his dearest friend,” Fandaniel gasped. With another wave of his hand, he dismissed the spell. Thancred’s stomach lurched at the sight of Viana’s body crumpling to the frozen ground, motionless. Fixing them all with a cool stare, Fandianiel continued with a mocking tone, “Never you fear, little lordling, your precious champion will soon be herself once more.” Another cruel smirk twitched on his lips as he bowed once more. “And with that, I take my leave of you!” Raising his head, he grinned maniacally, his voice full of spite, “May you enjoy the Final Days.”

Thancred gritted his teeth, ready to interject with a defiant reply, but the shadows were already swallowing Fandaniel up as he teleported away.

Barely had the flickers of dark aether dispersed before Alisaie, G’raha and Alphinaud rushed forward to fetch Viana’s body. As worried as he was, Thancred remained vigilant for anything else to appear around them. There was nothing he could do to help her anyway.

“She’s breathing!” Alphinaud exclaimed with relief.

Urianger and Y’shtola filed past Thancred as well, leaving him and Estinien standing on the sidelines, watching as the others examined Viana.

“Yes,” Y’shtola exhaled with relief, “that looks like her aether. I can see nothing wrong with her.”

“Nor I,” Urianger confirmed.

At once, Thancred felt himself relax a little. “Come, we should get her inside,” he muttered as he sheathed his gunblade and walked over. Nobody protested when he knelt down and carefully gathered Viana’s limp body in his arms. There was an ashen taste in his mouth as he looked down at her still face and the unwelcome memories of the last time he’d had to carry her like this replayed in his mind. Only this time he stood in a cold snowy night, and not atop a mountain bathed in eternal light.

....

Thankfully they quickly found a small room - really just a large storage closet - with some makeshift bedding where they could put down Viana to recover in peace.

Thancred stood in a corner, arms crossed, watching while Urianger and Alphinaud fussed over her. Restlessness crawled under his skin again, his thoughts abuzz with ways he could occupy himself - to be useful in some capacity. Closing his eyes, he dug his fingers into the thick fabric of his coat. He didn’t like seeing her like this. It reminded him too much of the days she’d lain unconscious while they’d been frantically searching for a way to save her from the corruption of the Light. Twelve, let her wake up soon.

Minutes passed at a crawl. Thancred remained rooted to his spot when Y’shtola and Estinien left to speak with Lucia, followed merely a few minutes later by G’raha and Alisaie disappearing to find something warm for Viana to eat once she woke up.

In their wake, only Alphinaud and Urianger’s hushed voices filled the room - what they said he didn’t listen to, but there was something soothing about their low steady murmurs nonetheless.

A low groan was all the warning they got right before Viana suddenly shot up into a sitting position while gasping for breath. Thancred immediately snapped into alertness, and pushed away from the wall. Viana’s eyes were wide as her gaze darted about the room as her hand fumbled for a weapon that was not there.

“Viana!” Alphinaud exclaimed as he put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s alright!”

Her attention immediately snapped back to him, her body still coiled tight with the stiffness of someone ready to fight. “A-are you all okay?” she rasped out, and her eyes flickered momentarily from Alphinaud, seemingly searching for any indications of injuries on any of them.

A shot of pain made Thancred’s chest feel tight when her wide, frightful gaze finally met his. “Yes, we’re all unhurt,” he replied softly, while managing what he hoped was a comforting smile.

Though she tried to hide it, the shiver that shook her entire body was all too evident, her face a grimace of relief and pain as she closed her eyes. “Good,” she choked out.

“Are you hurting anywhere?” Alphinaud inquired.

Thancred saw her swallow thickly, before she seemed to wrench back control over her body. A small smile that did not reach her eyes tugged at the corner of her mouth. “No, I feel fine, just… tired.”

“As to be expected, I suppose.” Alphinaud’s shoulders sagged a little as he exhaled. “What happened? We were looking for you all over!”

“Fandaniel appeared when the fighting broke out,” Viana sighed. “I didn’t have time to do anything before he yanked me into a teleport.” She wet her lips, and Thancred could see her body stiffen with discomfort. “When I awoke,” she continued slowly, “I was seated at a dinner table with Zenos… but I was in a garlean soldier’s body.”

A flash of hot anger shot through Thancred's chest as he grit his teeth. Though she made a valiant effort to hide it, he could pick out the slight tremble in her voice that was a stark reminder of nights past where nightmares had robbed her of her sleep.

“Where did Fandaniel get hold of such magics?” Alphinaud’s question was only met with a shrug from Viana.

Urianger cleared his throat, interrupting the conversation. “If I may, master Alphinaud,” he spoke softly, “mayhaps we ought to inform lady Lucia and our comrades that she has awoken. I dare say they’ll all want to hear whatever she can tell us of what befell her after the fighting broke out.”

“Oh, of course,” Alphinaud replied sheepishly. “My apologies my friend, I didn't mean to interrogate you.”

A far more earnest smile spread on Viana’s lips as she shook her head. “No harm done, Alphinaud. I’m just glad you’re all alright.”

Thancred glanced at Urianger as the two of them rose up. His suspicions were confirmed when golden eyes met his, full of a gentle understanding. For not the first time he felt a wave of gratitude towards the man, and mustered a grateful smile and nod.

Urianger merely smiled faintly in return and inclined his head, before following Alphinaud, who kept telling Viana to call for them at once if she felt ill, out the door.

The moment the door closed behind them, Viana’s shoulders sagged and she closed her eyes.

Unsure of what to say, Thancred settled down on the edge of the makeshift bed, torn between letting her have her space and wanting to pull her close.

Viana made the decision for him when she, without saying a word, shuffled over and leaned against him. Exhaling, Thancred put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her close. His other hand found hers, and she tugged off his glove before her own, then laced her fingers with his - the sole skin on skin contact they could have with their heavy winter coats. But it was better than nothing. Despite the concern still swirling in his chest, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and he pressed a kiss to her hair.

“Are you sure you are alright?” he asked softly.

There was a brief pause before she responded quietly, “No… but we don’t have the time for me to not be okay right now.”

Swallowing, he nodded. The clock was ticking, and the world needed its champion.

Words seemed unnecessary as they sat there in silence, merely soaking in each other’s presence while waiting for their friends to return. A small moment of calm between two storms, no doubt. It wasn’t much, and as ever Thancred felt it was unfair that the demands of the world would usher her onwards far too soon. … but he’d take it for now, would be by her side as far as he could.

They could end this farce today.

Just a little further, that was all.

#Thancred Waters #Thancred #Thancred x WoL #FFXIV #my writing

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