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driftward · 1 year

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Title: Icemelt Characters: Zoissette Vauban, Y'shtola Rhul Rating: Teen Summary: Zoissette has prevailed against the Fury. Her feelings about this do not match up at all with the facts. Notes: This started as a prompt response for year of the OTP and wound up somewhere else.

She held on for so long.

After her fight with the Fury, she held on.

Through her challenge against Menphina, the others alongside her, she held on.

She would be as a glacier.

When she and her fellow adventurers traveled around the realm with the gods in their diminutive forms, asking questions, learning more about one another, she was her usual self. She felt she did not learn nearly as much about the gods as she might have liked, but knowing that they heard the prayers of all was calming, somehow. That they did not interfere, she already knew, but she learned about how faith shaped them nevertheless. And she learned that, though they may change throughout the years, they were tied to their domains, every one. Aspects of them that would never change. What they were seeing today was just one small part of what they were and had been throughout the ages.

She recognized something of herself in that. Parts of her felt as though they were never changing. And she felt that the world only saw the smallest part of her. The rest of it was all hidden away, deep and cold and safe and away, where nobody had to see.

She returned to the office for a short bit to check in with Zel. She gave him reassurance and advice, never sitting down - the seat was his, for now, until she returned from her sabbatical - and made sure that the temporary solicitor was not giving him trouble. Satisfied that all was as well as it could be, she stayed strong and moved on, even as she felt the cracks beginning to creep up within her.

She stopped by the laboratory to check in on her friends as well. Ryss and Apple both gave her their congratulations for her accomplishments, and she was all placid smiles and honest, simple platitudes. She dutifully downplayed her part in things, as she felt was expected of her, and made sure to quickly get them both distracted with questions that she could apply to her upcoming research assignment. Apple was quiet as usual, but excited, in her reserved way, to share what she knew that would help her fellow scientist. Ryss was boisterous and excited, and did not let Zoissette too quickly change topic. Zoissette did not believe she deserved such good friends, as she felt the cracks begin to fissure, but she quickly focused her friends on the equations work that needed to be done and equipment that would need to be sent over.

Even as she herself failed to find her focus, her thoughts as marbles on ice. Scattering and sliding, any single thought failing to achieve purchase in her ruminations. Nothing able to reach deeper to what she really wanted to think about, to ping against how she really felt.

Despite that, she still managed to be pleasant enough company until it was time for her to say her goodbyes.

From there, she braved the pathways of the lifestream, as she teleported to Old Sharlayan. The journey through formless aether was safe enough, so long as one was attuned to their intended destination, but something about the shift could sometimes result in unpleasant side effects. She found teleporting had a way of carrying her with a feeling of nakedness, raw and untethered, and she always found herself momentarily disoriented at her destination as her wits returned to her. She arrived, intact and whole, and was grateful nobody was there to witness her arrival.

The journey through aether had given her the distinct feeling of sinking.

She only had a little further to go. She had no place to call her own, and had not in some time, but she had places she could go. If she could just make it to her room in the Baldesion Annex, all would be well. She could lay in her bed, and beg unwellness, and perhaps sleep, and sink into the depths of herself, and maybe when she woke up everything would all fall away and she could continue to face the world as she always had, could go back to being what she needed to be, could make her way through another day.

The Annex had become a home for her, in its own way. A waypoint during the end days, and then a familiar place to drop by afterwards, and now she had her room once more as she helped with the research into the void and travels to the thirteenth and she was a good and dutiful research assistant who could be easily ignored. Ever reliable. Just another invisible face in an infinite world, quietly doing what needed to be done, never needing anything.

Never being anyone.

She found that she had stopped in the common space. Her room would be down the hallway and to the right. She could just drift into it without falling apart. It would have a pleasant view of a grassy field with sparse trees. She would be able to gaze at the buildings and peoples of Old Sharlayan in safety. Watch as people went about their business. Perhaps she could have food delivered.

She just had to make it there.

Almost there.

-*-

Y'shtola and Krile were chatting amiably at the Last Stand when at last G'raha staggered up, Snoegeim right behind him. Snoegeim smiled and waved as she approached and took a seat. G'raha, wilting under the weight of the apparatus on his back, was careful to set the device down to one side before collapsing into a seat.

“Y'shtola. Seeing you here is a welcome, if unexpected, surprise.” he said.

“Krile thought it mete that we should each share what we have been up to,” she said.

“And I’ve been talking her ear off while waiting on you two, telling her what we’ve learned from our little field trip with the gods,” said Krile, grinning over at them. “And well! Don’t you look just about beat. Finding the burden of scholarship heavy, Raha?”

Y'shtola hid a smile behind her teacup while Krile tittered. Snoegeim simply reached over and patted his shoulder.

“Yes, yes, poke fun if you will,” he said. “But while you’ve been having tea and exchanging pleasantries, Snoegeim and I have been collating the data we’ve gathered. The aetheric analyzer and its transcriber have done their jobs marvelously.”

“I must say, I feel slightly envious,” said Y'shtola, setting down her teacup and looking at Snoegeim. “Perhaps such a device would give me more insight into that tear to the void under Alzadaal’s Legacy. Would that the Forum might entrust me with a back to carry it,” she said, winking and looking pointedly at G'raha.

G'raha relaxed into his chair, slouching a bit, before folding his ears back and giving Y'shtola a glare. “Hey!”

The three women all giggled as G'raha sighed.

“And how, might I ask, is your work in the void coming along?” he asked, leaning forward. Y'shtola set down her teacup with a gentle sigh.

“Slowly, I am afraid. There is much and more to look into, and I fear the consequences of too much delay. We intend to return to that realm anon.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice if we could have an emergency that was perhaps less urgent every now and again?” said Krile.

“Well. While my need is not quite immediate just yet, I would greatly enjoy having my researcher returned to me, if you’ve quite done with her.”

G'raha turned a bit red, and turned his head. “Ah. Well, she might be a little bit, I’m afraid.”

Snoegeim grinned at him. A bit madly, in Y'shtola’s estimation. She ignored her, grabbing a tart for herself as she regarded G'raha cooly.

“Why, may I ask,” she asked.

“She fought the Fury!” blurted Snoegeim.

“Well, yes, I was under the general impression that was at least partially why you asked for her and her associates,” said Y'shtola.

“No, no! You don’t understand! She fought her alone!”

Y'shtola set her plate down to look at Snoegeim evenly, before turning her attention to G'raha with a headtilt.

“It’s true,” he said. “Once the initial fight was over, the Fury sought her out for single combat. She shrank herself down to do so, until she was just about Zoissette’s size. She issued a challenge, and Zoissette… well, she accepted it.”

“Oh, I was so worried for her,” said Snoegeim. “Halone was fast, and while I’m pretty sure she was pulling her punches, it sure didn’t seem like it. I don’t know how she held on!”

Y'shtola tapped her chin with her knuckles. “You were there to witness it? I thought the protocol was that only one of you would enter fully the realm of the gods at a time.”

“I was still outside,” said Krile. “Snoegeim wanted to check on matters, and she was so eager, I could hardly say no. Besides, I was interested to know what was going on myself. It’s always a delight hearing what our adventurers get up to.”

“I see,” said Y'shtola, keeping her tone controlled. “And how did my particular adventurer fare?”

“Ah, well, it is as Snoegeim said,” said G'raha. “It was not going well for much of the fight. I was certain she would prevail, of course, but even with that, I will admit that I was beginning to grow concerned. I thought that maybe her heart was not truly into it, or that perhaps something was holding her back. But then she summoned that fairy familiar of hers, and the tide of battle changed significantly.”

“She was in bad shape,” said Snoegeim, shaking her head. “She’d been more than bloodied, but kept getting back up, refusing to surrender.”

“The fairy’s magicks brought with them a minor miracle, flooding her with healing aether, and it seemed that was enough to see her as spirited as I can recall seeing her when she’s at her best,” said G'raha. “She rallied, and ultimately, prevailed.”

“You should have seen it!” said Snoegeim. “It was a wonder to behold! Once she was healed, she was so much faster, and she was almost dancing with the Fury! Blades clashed and magic flew! Oh, it was incredible! I’d love to watch her again sometime.”

“Yes, well,” said G'raha. “Ultimately, Halone declared the contest over, and announced Zoissette as the winner. She proceeded to knight her in front of everyone present, declaring her Zoissette of the Aurora. It was honestly quite the moving moment, I feel, even if the path to get there gave me some cause for concern.”

Y'shtola looked to Krile. “Did you examine her afterwards?”

Krile nodded. “She’s an easy patient, as you know, once you convince her that she’s not too much trouble to look after. You won’t be surprised to hear that she’s overextended herself. Her aether is out of sorts, and even with healing magicks, she’s got a few injuries she’ll be dealing with for a while. Fortunately, I am confident she’ll take her rest and recover fully. She’s certainly a better patient than some people present, Y'shtola.”

G'raha hid a laugh behind his hand, but quickly stifled it by clearing his throat when Y'shtola glared at him. She primly took a sip of tea while he coughed. “Perhaps I should get an accounting of your adventures from her myself,” mused Y'shtola.

“Perhaps,” said G'raha, recovering. “But hopefully now you understand why she may be a bit delayed. And she claimed to have matters she wished to look into before returning to Old Sharlayan as well. She apologized for not being able to help me with the work we need to do now, but of course I told her it was quite alright. Truth be told, I suspect your own work will be rather more important in the days to come.”

“In this, we are in agreement,” said Y'shtola. “I find your work fascinating, but I do not see any clear and present danger in it. Unlike those threats we face from those in the void. I thank you for taking the time to have lunch with me, Krile. I would enjoy spending more time with you and talking about the rest of your adventures, but you have reminded me of mine own responsibilities, and I feel perhaps I should go about preparing to see to them.”

“Well, your work may be urgent, but ours is rather less so,” said Krile. “If you make time in your schedule, I’ll make time in mine. I’d love to talk with you more, whether it’s about work or other matters.”

“I shall keep that in mind,” said Y'shtola, standing up. “Take care, my friends.”

The other three gave Y'shtola their well wishes as she headed off.

-*-

Y'shtola checked in the Baldesion Annex, meaning to retrieve a few personal effects and speak with Ojika before returning to Thavnair. She meant to ask him about Zoissette, but the cheeky expression on his face as she entered told her all that she needed to know. She kept her expression neutral, deciding to not give him the satisfaction of having any noticeable reaction to his obvious expectations.

“Well, hello, Archon Y'shtola,” he said. “What brings you by?”

“Merely stopping by,” she replied. “I do not imagine you have seen Zoissette about, perchance?”

He feigned a thoughtful expression. “Well, she may have -just- come through here. I think she said she was heading to her room for a moment of respite. Maybe I could go check on her… unless you’d like to do so yourself.”

He gave her a cheeky grin, and she found she could resist no longer, and rolled her eyes at him.

“I believe I shall go see for myself, thank you,” she said.

“My pleasure!” said Ojika a touch too cheerfully.

She shook her head, but smiled nonetheless. It was nice, after all, to be able to enjoy these all-too-rare moments of jovial camaraderie in between the various crises the world seemed wont to continue to burden her and hers with.

She left him, walking through the Annex into the common area, stopping there as she found Zoissette, seemingly staring off into nowhere.

Seemingly. The woman always had her little disarming oddities, and this was one of them. Y'sthola walked up to her, taking a moment to adjust her aethersight, putting forth just a little bit of extra effort to expand upon what she could see.

Zoissette faintly glowed, despite the layers of armor she wore. Zoissette’s aether was cool and steady, its light gentle yet strong. Of the many people Y'shtola had known over the years, few had had that same quality to them. And the power she always held so tightly controlled in reserve was obvious in her form. Broad shoulders that no amount of mail could hide. The curves of her thighs given to her by their very solid musculature, contributing to the elegance lent her by her long legs. The way she held herself, standing straight and tall as a soldier ought.

She wished to study her in detail one day.

“It always feels as though it has been too long, my friend,” said Y'shtola. “Krile tells me you and yours have been doing such interesting things in the realm of those who would call themselves our gods.”

Zoissette turned, and looked at Y'shtola, blinking.

“Oh. Uhm. Yes,” she said.

“Well then. I thought to stop by before continuing on to Thavnair, but perhaps if you’ve a moment, we might sit and you can tell me of your adventures, and then we can continue on our way together. I am certain you have learned much from them.”

Zoissette gifted her with that faint smile of hers, that real smile of hers. It was a gentle and soft thing, subtle in its affection. Not like the half asleep look she oft had when indulging others, nor the frankly frightening rictus grin she tried to force when she was nervous. As the two sat on the couch in the common area, Zoissette tucked herself into one corner, and Y'shtola into the other, keeping the polite distance the Elezen seemed to prefer.

She felt a tension she did not know she had been holding release, and wondered at that. Even as Zoissette opposite her sank down, and seemed to soften as she did so. Y'shtola tucked her feet up on the couch.

“Well, do not hold me in suspense,” she said.

Zoissette looked up at the ceiling, her expression blanking. “My apologies. Was there some specific question you had in mind?”

Y'shtola considered. “Krile told me much. She told me of the discovery of the epigraph, and how the means to completing it apparently required you to travel to each of the waystones of the twelve, scattered throughout the realm. She said that the gods are apparently curious creatures, oddly eager to interact with mankind. She told me of her journey, but I am full eager to hear of your accounting of the same.”

Zoissette nodded. “It was… interesting. I - I am not sure what to make of them. Or rather, I am, but I do not want to - I am not sure. I do not want to state anything with insufficient evidence.”

“Then it is as it has always been,” said Y'shtola. “Present your testimony, and we shall tease what truth there is in it through interrogation and examination.”

Zoissette took a deep breath in, and Y'shtola thought briefly of how distracting she was, and let it out, before she began to tell her tale. She told of the incomplete epigraph in Omphalos, and how the gods present offered to grant the knowledge of how to complete it, in exchange for meeting the adventurers in combat. She spoke briefly on the challenges, though on her own challenge with the Fury, she barely spoke at all, and Y'shtola made a mental note to interrogate that later. Afterwards, the gods had kept their side of the bargain, giving the adventurers gifts that could decipher their mysteries, and bidding them travel to the waystones they had set throughout the realm.

Then they had apparently traveled alongside the gods in their diminutive animal forms. This was of rather more interest to Y'shtola, and she asked more questions here, Zoissette gamely answering them. The two fell into an easy back and forth rhythm, a long and familiar pattern for them. Y'shtola enjoyed sharing these moments with Zoissette. Zoissette was straightforward and guileless, and she approached life with a hungry curiosity that granted her keen insight. And she was patient, never seeming to be irritated at questions like others might, and not put off too badly by Y'shtola’s occasional sharpness.

Moments like these, seeking the truth, were moments that she treasured.

She could not fail to notice, however, that in it all, Zoissette seemed to be more reserved than usual. It was not her place to pry, however, and so she would not.

And at last, her story was told, as Y'shtola was bringing back two cups of tea for each of them. Zoissette accepted hers gratefully, an Ishgardian black blend that Y'shtola knew she preferred, and Y'shtola nestled in on the couch next to her, with her own La Noscean orange blend. She sipped at her tea as she continued the conversation.

“And so the gods listen, but do not interfere with the ways of mankind,” she said thoughtfully.

Zoissette leaned forward, and clasped her hands in front of her.

“That seems consistent with what we know, yes,” she said.

“If they have indeed heard all the prayers mankind has offered in supplication over the eons, they must have great knowledge indeed, if not wisdom. I myself would greatly appreciate the opportunity to speak with Thaliak, or perhaps Nymeia - if they were wont to share any of what they have learned.”

Y'shtola looked at Zoissette. “And what of the conversation with your own goddess?”

Zoissette did not meet her gaze, instead just staring off again.

“She challenged me. I believe I said that.”

Y'shtola purposefully kept her tone gentle. It was obvious that there was something more here. “And what came of it, if I might ask?”

“I passed the test,” said Zoissette. “…it was a near thing. I do not know how to describe it, now. One moment, the challenge was hers, through little effort, if I were to be honest. The next, everything just seemed so… so clear. I remember offering up a prayer. Not to her. But I did pray, and everything just came into focus, and I managed to overcome her, well, to prevail, but - I could not tell you how. I’m, I am, I am sorry.”

“For what? Is it not well that you succeeded? I shall settle for seeing you hale and whole.”

Zoissette nodded as she responded. “…but you asked about what we said, not about the fight. I’m… I am not trying to be evasive, I promise. It is just - it is difficult to think about. She… she said something important, I think.

"She said that I was worthy. No. That I had always been worthy.”

“That is of little surprise to any who know you true, dear friend. Even if none in the realm could be described as such, it still could be said of you.”

“You are very kind.”

“I am very honest.”

Zoissette stirred her tea, and shook her head just the tiniest amount before continuing to speak. “At the time, I was tired from the fight, but as we pieced together the epigraph and learned more about the nature of the gods, it sort of shifted what I thought about what she said.”

“You told me that the epigraph was a sort of lodestone for the gods. A reminder of the core of who they were, even as faith changed them over the years.”

“Right. Exactly. So, Halone. We call her the Fury. A goddess of war. But her epigraph said nothing of the sort. Nothing about war or fury. She is a goddess of ice, and constancy, and tranquility. That is what she is. At her core. It is our beliefs that made her what she is now. Shaped who she became.

"I am not sure how to feel? I thought myself almost a heretic. My beliefs are not those of the Holy See. Not really. I mean, sort of. They are shaped by what I learned as a child. And what I knew, what I thought I knew. And, if I am to be honest, which I must, by my love of story. Even after all this time. Even after everything. Knowing that the beliefs of my nation were built on a foundation of lies, it is… it was hard to face my goddess. Knowing what I have done. What I have prayed. What I believe. And even now, here, in safety, it is hard to confess. But… everything I have learned has actually confirmed beliefs I have long held in secret. That there is a real Halone barely matters. She and the other gods claim that they do not act, do not meddle in the affairs of mankind. If that is true, then the Halone I have worshiped my entire life is almost exactly what I believed her to be. An ideal, a storytale. Made up by us. Made up by people. The epigraph tells me that the core of who she is is real enough. And I want to believe that. And that person who I met. She is real. Real enough. But everything else? Storytales. Our faith is our faith in a truth that comes from each of us, and that alone.”

Zoissette took a deep breath in. “My first duty is to the truth, Y'shtola. But why does it feel as though I have failed it? What does it say about who she is to me and what she said to me?”

“Who is she to call me worthy. Who am I, to be called worthy.”

“You are as you have always been, Zoissette.”

Zoissette fidgeted with the cup in her hands.

“I full find myself rather envious,” said Y'shtola.

“Envious?” said Zoissette, and she sounded skeptical, and Y'shtola laughed lightly.

“Yes, a bit,” she admitted. She swirled her tea in her cup, and smiled at it, imagining her distorted reflection in its surface. “You ask me who you are, though I suspect you know rather well enough the answer.”

Zoissette nodded, just a little. “I always welcome your perspective, if you would share it with me.”

Y'shtola closed her eyes, and lifted her tea to her mouth, and took in a deep breath, smelling the strong scent of citrus mixed in with the darker notes of the tea. She took a long sip and considered her words before she spoke.

“Whenever I look at you, I see much the same as what everyone else sees, I imagine. A dutiful knight of Ishgard, ever ready to defend the realm. An adventurer, capable and strong. A scholar of Limsa Lominsa, with a keen mind. But I do not believe that to be the core of who you are. Nay, I believe I see something more than that. I see a woman, ever curious. I see someone who approaches the world with that self-same curiosity, coupled with an openness that I find I simply do not have, and with that openness, you see truths scarce few could imagine.

"I remember, once you accused me rightly of being rather too much like my master. I would like to think that I have improved in temperament and manner since then, but you were not wrong in your criticism. I learned well from her, and when I approach the world, there is a certain cynicism I cannot help but bring with me. I trust nothing at face value, and I used to believe that made me better able to get at the hidden truths of the world, to dig past falsehoods and facades. I believed in naught more than myself, and felt I needed little more than that.

"Oh, but how wrong you have proven me, time and time again. You approach the world with an open heart and an open mind, believing and seeing the best in your fellow man, allowing them time and time again to disappoint you. But even when they do, your heart ‘tis no less diminished for it, nor do you grow cold in your disappointment. Nay, you reach out again and again, and it is that, that I envy. That is the core of who you are, is that bright and curious and open woman. In that openness, you are ever able to see the truth that lies right in front of you, that I myself so oft neglect in pursuit of deeper meanings that I may yet find if I simply looked with mine own heart. When I describe you as Light, well.

"That is who you are, Zoissette de Aurora. I find I must needs agree with Halone. You are worthy, and always have been. Yours is a Light that all may lift their heads and be guided by, if they but looked. I sense in your words that you struggle with these revelations, but has not the pursuit of truth always been such? Knowing what I know of you, you shall see past this, and find greater truths yet unveiled. To do otherwise is simply not in your nature.”

Y'shtola’s voice was soft as she finished, a small smile on her face, a warmth in her at her utter fondness for this woman. Y'shtola understood what a crisis of self was like. But how could Zoissette view herself as anything other than what she was?

She turned to face her, and saw that Zoissette was staring at nowhere once more. She saw the gentlest shade of clear and blue on her face, and the glint of what were the faintest motes of living aether, sparkling as a very few tiny specks, drifting down her cheeks.

She felt her ears go flat as she frowned up at Zoissette, and she focused, flaring her aethersight to fuller potential. She knew she would tire out faster from the exertion, but that would be a problem for later.

Zoissette looked over at Y'shtola, and frowned slightly. “Y'shtola? Archon Y'shtola?” asked Zoissette. “Is something the matter?”

Y'shtola reached up a hand slowly to Zoissette’s face. Zoissette’s eyes followed her hand as she reached up, and wiped away a tear.

“You would ask that,” she said.

Zoissette blinked some more, and Y'shtola watched as her eyebrows wrinkled and her face slowly collapsed into an expression of dismay. She turned her face away, stuffing a forearm into her mouth, and folded in on herself, her shoulders beginning to shake.

She should not meddle further. She could not say what had gone wrong these past few moments, but it was readily apparent that she had misstepped. Not merely misstepped, but overstepped. What she should do was step back, allow Zoissette her space and some privacy. Perhaps give the woman some tea and a warm blanket, direct her to her bedroom, and be on her way. And if Zoissette wished to share later, that would be her prerogative, and if not, that was no business of hers then, was it?

That was what she should do.

Instead, she touched Zoissette gently on the back.

“If I ask you to stay, would you?”

Zoissette did not look at her, but after a moment, nodded.

“Very well,” said Y'shtola. “I will be back swiftly. I promise.”

-*-

Zoissette cringed as she heard the door to the common area close.

She was not sure why she was crying. She did not want to be crying. Certainly she did not want to be falling to pieces in front of Archon Y'shtola of all people.

Nothing but nice things had been happening lately. The world was safe, the work was good, the research was interesting, she had friends, and she had faced her goddess in single combat and overcome her trial. Zoissette was living a good and comfortable life. She was happy. She should be happy.

And despite herself, it was happening again.

She could never let a nice thing just be a nice thing. She always found some new and more interesting way to screw it up. She could have just answered the Archon’s questions, and passed a pleasant afternoon, and made it to her bedroom where she could be a complicated mess all by herself.

Instead she was here in the common room, and the Archon had left. For what, she could not guess, but she was all alone for now, until she came back.

She tried to focus. She thought briefly of the hallway. She could escape. She could be gone by the time she returned.

But she had promised to stay.

And so she did, her mind swirling in on itself. Fragments of thoughts, disconnected but together.

Why was she crying?

Why did she feel this way?

Everything had been going so well.

Why was she like this?

She wanted to drown in the stupidity of it all, and be carried away to somewhere, someplace. She could come back tomorrow, all neat and clean and proper. Dutiful Zoissette once more.

She sat quietly, not sure if moments or minutes were passing by, trying to force herself to think, aware that she was in a whirlpool of emotion, but if she could just get free of it, perhaps she could move on and move past whatever this was.

Worthy, Halone had said.

Worthy, Y'shtola had agreed.

She had done everything right, and for once, for once, others agreed.

So why was she crying?

She looked up as she heard the door to the room open. Y'shtola had returned.

But she had not returned alone.

“Klynt…?” said Zoissette, her voice unsteady, as the large Roegadyn woman strode across the room towards her.

And then she was up, in the air, and her face was buried in Klynt’s shoulder, as Klynt just scooped her up like she was a coeurl and squeezed her as she wheezed.

“Heard you were in a bad way,” said Klynt.

Zoissette went red with embarrassment.

“Klynt! Why!?” she gasped.

Klynt just sat down with her on the couch, while Y'shtola busied herself in the background. After a moment, Zoissette gave up, and just curled up further on herself, bringing a hand up to push her glasses off her face and press her hand against her eyes. She could hear other movement in the room, but she shut it out, and let herself cry for a while, just clinging to Klynt and, generally, feeling sorry for herself.

It did not last forever, though, and eventually she began to feel herself calm down. She began to breathe again. She felt a soreness loosen, and a cold that she had not realised she had been holding release itself to allow warmth back in again.

She looked up, and as she did so, a teacup was pushed into her hands.

She was surprised to see Meya, smiling warmly at her. Meya’s other hand had a plate of food, and she suddenly realised she felt as though she were practically starving.

Zoissette gingerly took the proffered tea and looked dumbly at the plate, before looking up at Klynt.

“Please put me down.”

Klynt obliged, setting her down on the couch next to her. And as she was settled, she saw what the noise in the room had been about.

People were bustling back and forth, Y'shtola directing them. No; not people. Not just any people. Her friends, among the many peoples she had known over the years. Members of Gage Acquisitions, Scions, and more aside. She recognised no few of her books being taken back to her room, and Ryss and Apple helping get her lab equipment settled in as well. Y'mhitra was chatting with Zel, who noticed her attention, and turned and waved before falling back into conversation with her cousin. The solicitor she had asked for from the Arcanist’s guild gave her a nod as she continued talking with both of them. And while Meya may have been the one to bring her the tea, she could see others making other arrangements for food.

She had seen this sort of thing before. Y'shtola had a way of taking charge in emergencies, of seeing to what needed to be done.

She was not sure how she felt that she seemed to be the emergency this time.

She did have to admit, however, that she felt a bit better. And a lot more embarrassed.

If the others were bothered however, none of them spoke a word of it to her. Instead discussions whirled, either talking about the just-passed excitement of dealing with gods, or how to handle the upcoming expedition to Thavnair, and then to the thirteenth beyond. As Zoissette caught snippets, she realised they were talking of the research expedition, and how best to help make sure it went smoothly. Much of what they were doing was towards that end, in fact.

Work she had expected to take on herself over the next few days, actually.

She made a few attempts to get up and join in, but each time, a different person just happened to be near enough to gently push her back down and set something else in her hands to keep her occupied for just a little while longer.

Many hands made for light work, though, and eventually her friends broke off their work or conversations, and said their goodbyes, and gave her their well wishes as they were on their way. Klynt was among the last to leave, after Y'shtola had taken her off to one side and had a hushed conversation with her. She did not eavesdrop, but Klynt did stop and clap her on the shoulder with a smile before she went.

The gesture helped. Klynt was a long and true friend.

At last, the Annex was quiet once more, and it was just her and Y'shtola. The plates had been cleared, the place was clean, and everything had been put away.

Y'shtola stood nearby, leaning against a wall, her hands pinned behind her, just watching her.

Zoissette managed a smile for her.

“Thank you.”

“Speak nothing further of it.”

Zoissette looked away. She wanted to say something, but she was not sure what. Something to make up for the whole mess.

“I think,” she said instead, “I am very tired.”

“Shall I see you to your room, then?”

“…please.”

Y'shtola pushed off the wall, and came over, and helped Zoissette up. As she came to her feet, she realised she was trembling slightly. The after effects of everything, she assumed. She let herself be led to her room, and Y'shtola opened the door, and then paused at the threshold.

“I do not wish to intrude.”

“…you will not be,” said Zoissette. “I - I could use the company. I think. If it is alright.”

Y'shtola nodded, and the two went in together.

-*-

Zoissette was in bed, curled up on her side, wearing a sweater and some shorts. Her glasses were tucked away, and she had taken the bow out of her hair, letting it free.

Y'shtola sat on the floor next to her bed, her feet tucked up near to her, her back leaning against the edge of the bed.

Zoissette was sleepy and heavy and sore and exhausted. She felt as though she had been drained away to almost nothing, and all that was left was the stones of her bones, sinking heavy into the bed.

“Y'shtola,” she tried to say. The first syllable did not want to cooperate.

“Hmm?” replied Y'shtola anyway, bless her.

“…I would have handled the work eventually. You did not need to call all those people.”

“I am certain. However, that was hardly the point. I felt you could use a warmth from those better to provide it than I.”

Zoissette was beginning to have trouble stringing thoughts together.

“I did not intend to be a burden.”

Y'shtola turned now to look at her.

“Is that why you are so intent on refusing to ask for the help you so freely proffer others?”

Zoissette wanted to argue. She could feel her eyes weighing down, though.

“…I do not want to be a burden to you,” she mumbled. “I’m hardly worth it.”

“However you feel about yourself, you would do well to allow me my own counsel,” she replied.

The room fell quiet at that. And after some long minutes, Y'shtola heard Zoissette’s breathing become gentle and slow.

“…and perhaps I think you are worth the effort,” she said quietly.

#year of the otp #whenever i look at you #not sure if this should actually count for the year of the otp challenge #final fantasy xiv #zoissette vauban #y'shtola rhul #icemelt #202301-31 #biot writes

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driftward · 1 year

Text

Title: Begin again Characters: Zoissette Vauban, Y'shtola Rhul Rating: Teen Summary: Zoissette feels the need to be honest after a difficult night Notes: Companion after piece to Icemelt

Zoissette woke up in the Baldesion Annex.

It was morning, judging by the light coming through the doorway leading out to the balcony. And that matched her own tendencies. Long habits of a knight meant that no matter how late she went to sleep, she tended to wake up early in the morning to make a muster that she would probably never be called for again. But the habit was set, and it was well, as she found it useful.

It meant she was awake before many, and that gave her some quiet time to herself most mornings.

She cleaned herself up and got dressed. As she was tying the bow that would adorn her hair for the day, she looked at herself in the mirror. She was nothing to look at, but she had made her peace with that some time ago. Today something besides how she would look to the world was on her mind.

The words Y'shtola had said the day before came back to her. And then the tears and the hurt, and then the relief, and the tiredness, and how her friends all came together to support her. Though support her for what, she could not say. She still did not understand why she had so thoroughly come apart.

But she felt better about it today. Calmer. She was back in control, and could face the new day.

It was not long until she was out in the kitchens, preparing a simple breakfast. She did not know who would be around at this hour, but made enough for several people anyroad. She was a knight, after all, and she chose to cook like one this morn. That way, anything that was not eaten would keep and could be turned into rations.

As she cooked, she heard someone at the door, and looked up to see Y'shtola.

"Well," said Y'shtola. "I see you still retain that habit of being an early riser. I hope you slept well, despite that."

"I did," said Zoissette. "I am a little surprised to see you up this early."

"I set a spell to wake me up that I might check on you."

Zoissette turned red.

"Before you protest, 'tis no trouble I was not willing to endure."

She did not respond, but kept cooking.

"...do you want breakfast?" asked Zoissette.

Y'shtola accepted the offer, and Zoissette made sure to adjust her cooking for Y'shtola's preferences. The rest of the morning passed companionably between the two. Neither of them talked about Zoissette's episode the evening before, for which she was secretly grateful. Y'shtola did note that she wanted to follow up on Krile's examinations into Zoissette's health, which she reluctantly agreed to. The rest of their conversation was light, touching on plans for the upcoming trip, and approaches to research for the same.

At last, breakfast was over, the dishes were put away, and Zoissette and Y'shtola were enjoying cups of after breakfast tea. A peaceful lull came to pass, which could have been passed in companionable silence.

However, an old feeling had slowly been creeping up on Zoissette. She had gotten over her initial embarrassment, and now the familiar fear had been creeping in. She kept glancing over at Y'shtola, all grace and good manners and utter confidence. She found the other woman intimidating, to be frank. Imposing. A force of will upon the star that had left many whirling in its wake.

She could feel the heat of it filling up her breast, could practically hear the hammer of her heart, the rush of blood in her ears. But after last night, after the kind things Y'shtola had said, after the way she had come through for her. Zoissette owed it to her to say something. Owed it to both of them, really, especially if they were going to be working together.

And she was no stranger to fears. She had faced dragons in war, and primals and kami and other such words for other people's gods. Which is to say, her belief had met the beliefs of others, and her conviction and determination had seen her through. She could do this. She could speak her truth to an old friend.

It was time to screw up her courage and face her fear.

"Y'shtola... you said something last night. Just before - just before I lost myself. About ... what you see when you look at me."

Y'shtola stirred her tea, her expression unreadable as she looked over at Zoissette. Her ears were forward, though, which was promising.

"I wanted to say.. thank you. It feels like you said something true about me there. And... I want to say something true about you as well."

"'Tis hardly necessary."

"Is it not?"

Y'shtola closed her eyes and sipped her tea, and Zoissette sat and waited. She could be patient. She must.

"Well, then. Whatsoever is on your mind."

"You said... that whenever you look at me, you see curiosity, and openness, and Light. And other words aside that I do not think I will ever forget. But... and forgive me, I do not have the same talent for words that you do, but... when I look at you, Y'shtola, I see, well, you. A strong woman. A courageous woman. A woman who - well, I see someone who knows themself. I have long admired you. You have the convictions to stand up to power. And you are smart, really smart. You have learned so much, and you keep learning more. A lot of people, they eventually just settle with what they know, but not you. Never you. And ... you mentioned your cynicism. I do not think it is cynicism, not really. I just think that you are, like you said, very honest. You can be blunt sometimes, but it is never to harm, but to enlighten. And I appreciate that about you. I can find people hard to understand, but you are always honest and straightforward with me. And I appreciate that a lot. Others may not like that, but I do. And despite how you feel, I find a... a warmth in you that is comforting. And ... and it was hard for me to hear that you were envious for me. For I have long admired you.

"...honestly, I think I want to be you, a little bit. I am sorry to have been gone for so long. I am... glad to be here. And despite last night, I want to stay here, and keep working with you, if you are willing to let me. I want to stay on as your research assistant, for as long as you would have me."

She felt her words peter out. She was staring down at her tea by the time she had finished talking, forcing herself to not let the tension in her fingers travel into the teacup and break it by accident. The fear reached a crescendo, gripping her heart, her breath suspended by tension cables.

She glanced up at Y'shtola to see her smiling.

"Well, do not be ridiculous," she said. "For if you were me, you would not be you. And I rather value that."

Somehow it was the perfect thing to say. The tension broke, and Zoissette felt her insides turn to splashy liquid as the stress she had been holding all flowed away.

Her hands relaxed around the teacup, and she felt herself sit up a little straighter, and she felt her confidence return.

She smiled at Y'shtola.

"And I am glad to have you back. I want you here. You are welcome to remain as my fellow researcher, for as long as you are willing to stay."

Zoissette took a long breath in, and let it out slow, and nodded.

Y'shtola smiled back at her.

"Thank you, my friend," she said. "If you are up to it, then, perhaps we should get on with it."

"Yes, of course," said Zoissette. "To work, then?"

"Quite so," said Y'shtola. "Right after I examine you once more. I am not at all confident you are yet fully recovered from your contest with the Fury."

Zoissette grimaced, but nodded. And it was not long before the kitchen had been cleaned, preparations made, and the two women went on to begin their work, together.

#year of the otp #whenever i look at you #okay this one definitely counts for the year of the otp #final fantasy xiv #zoissette vauban #begin again #202301-31 #biot writes #y'shtola rhul

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