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mirageofthecrystal · 2 years

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Junelezen 2022 - Day 6 I Dreams of Ice

"I still recall the day I met the infamous Lady Iceheart as if it were only yesterday. The crusty basement of an old, forgotten manor house, standing before a blasphemous shrine, she stood in all her glory.

She spoke to me of truth, of justice, and of peace. She revealed to me the real history of our people, or at the least the version of it show to her by the power of the blessing of Hydaelyn that she bore, and opened my eyes to the grievous misdoings of our ancestors. She cared not for my prior service in slaughtering her people or the dragons to whom she wished to resolve matters of war. She saw us all as misguided, being lied to our entire lives to breed hatred and animosity to a foe we ourselves forged by our deeds.

And when the truth was at last told, she made no orders, no threats. She merely asked for my service unto her mission of piece. If I were to refuse, I was free to return to the life I had carved out for myself, though she also likely knew what that left held for me. I saw in her an enigma, a woman who was not born into leadership, but one who had walked upon a path that she was forced to build stone by stone until she reached the destination she sought.

I learned of the darkness within, that which lurked in the heart of all who bled for Ishgard, and which was awakened by the heretics in their fight against the Holy See. The blood of dragons pumped through our veins, manifesting itself over the ages since King Thordan and his knights profaned our people with sin. It was that darkness that called to me, that sought to bring destruction in its wake, to spill the blood of any and all who stood in my way. Ancient blood roused by conflict, answering a call not consciously given.

When my uncle first told me his wish, to bring me before the leader of the heretics, I scoffed. I thought him mad, and then I thought him a foul traitor. The accusations against my family had, in my mind, some credence to them if the most noble of us had fallen under the sway of the dragons.

But Artemoux, as stoic as ever, swore that it was not until after the church's lies sought to break our House did he finally begin seeing between the lines. And so earnestly was his plea that I agreed to follow his guidance, away from this place where my life was only measured by how much longer I could evade a dagger in the back. And so we made the lengthy journey, by carriage and then by foot, to the highlands beyond the Holy See, among the snowdrifts and memories of a time long forgotten.

For those who read this memoir, you likely know the truth I have alluded to which Lady Iceheart spread amongst any who would listen, poising them against their own countrymen in a war of ideals. It is also likely that you know of her ultimate fate, and how even after her beliefs were shaken to their core, she fought on for a peace she would never see. To this day, I think back upon her words, her deeds, and all that which she fought for, and I know that despite all the challenges it brought, all the strife that Ishgard endured in the course of change, that it was all worth it in the end.

There is no other person that I could imagine that could so embody Saint Shiva, she who many still cast the aspersions of our forebears upon as queen of the heretics and one who lay with a mortal foe. No one else could possibly have carried the hope of both Ishgard and dragon within her heart so fervently and so graciously until the bitter end as she.

Thus did I join her Harriers, in service to the heretics which Ishgard so fiercely sought to stamp out. I knew not at the time that I also stood in opposition to the Warrior of Light, who hunted us alongside our blindly faithful brethren in bold attempts to capture or kill our dear Lady and put an end to her righteous mission. Far beyond thankful I am that righteousness truly did prevail, and that the mighty defender of Eorzea did not strike her down that day when she forged of herself a vessel for the Primal known as Shiva."

- Excerpt from the personal journal and accounts of Ser Faiolan Penderghast, Knight of the Heaven's Ward

#junelezen 2022 #ffxiv blogging #ffxiv crystal #ffxiv #ffxiv mateus #faiolan penderghast #ffxiv roleplay #ffxiv rp #mateus #ffxiv screenshots #junelezen #lady iceheart #heavensward

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dwellordream · 3 years

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“It is unlikely that any king ever received more valuable assistance from his mother than did Richard from Eleanor. The new English monarch empowered her to hold England until he could arrive to take charge himself, and as a crowned queen she symbolized lawful royal authority in the kingdom until his arrival for his coronation. With her strong personality, she could dominate royal officials and assure administrative continuity. Although official records fail to reflect Eleanor’s efforts on Richard’s behalf, contemporary writers vividly depict her exertions.

One chronicler wrote, “Queen Eleanor, who for many years had been under close guard, was entrusted with the power of acting as regent by her son. Indeed, he issued instructions to the princes of the realm, almost in the style of a general edict, that the queen’s word should be law in all matters.” He concluded, “To make up for his many excesses, [Richard] took care to show his mother all the honor that he could, that by obedience to his mother he should atone for the offenses committed against his father.” Although Eleanor’s position in England’s government was not comparable to that of Philip II’s mother in France, who was proclaimed official regent while her son was away on crusade, she swiftly exerted herself on Richard’s behalf, securing the kingdom for him and remedying the late king’s abuses.

Representing royal power, she gave legitimacy to the authority of the experienced and capable chief justiciar Ranulf de Glanvill, and his writs sometimes stated their authorization “by the queen’s precept.” The respect given Eleanor as queen-mother would give her a prominent part in English politics during the turbulent years of 1190–94, when the kingdom was threatened by her younger son John, count of Mortain, and by the Capetian king. She was a prominent force in England, enforcing royal directives, prohibiting a papal legate from entering the kingdom, attesting royal charters, and attending gatherings of the king’s great council.

…A chronicler described Eleanor after her release from captivity: “Circulating with a queenly court, she set out from city to city and castle to castle just as it pleased her.” The chronicler must have chosen the uncommon term “queenly court” instead of “royal court” purposely to draw attention to the extraordinary sight of a female exercising royal authority. The queen sent representatives to all the counties of England to take free men’s oaths of fidelity to their new king. These royal agents were ordered to release captives imprisoned by the king’s will alone, not by the law of the realm, and also those held for offences against the arbitrary forest law, while those lawfully imprisoned were to be released once they found sureties for their appearance at trial.

The chronicler continued, commenting, “In her own person she demonstrated how grievous unjust imprisonment was for men, and how release aroused in them joyful revival of spirits.” He added that Eleanor freed prisoners because her own experience had taught her that “confinement is distasteful to mankind, and that it is a most delightful refreshment to the spirits to be liberated therefrom.” Certainly Eleanor could feel for those arbitrarily imprisoned by her late husband, but her proclamation was not a general amnesty emptying the jails, for conditions for prisoners’ release were specific and consistent with legal principles and practices. The monastic writer William of Newburgh, nonetheless, was disgusted that freeing them had unleashed “these pests” back onto society only to terrorize decent subjects more confidently in the future.

Another chronicler commented more favorably, recognizing her action as redressing Henry II’s despotic deeds. She curbed “the depredations of those . . . charged with the care of the forests, intimidating them with the threat of severe penalties”; he also hails her ending of Henry’s habit of housing his horses in the stables of abbeys, remarking that she “distributed them with pious liberality.” Although Eleanor’s first concern in the weeks after Henry’s death was assisting Richard’s smooth accession to England’s throne, she did not forget a widow’s duty to provide prayers for her departed husband’s soul. She assigned income of the vacant bishopric of Winchester as alms on Henry’s behalf and also made grants to the nuns of Amesbury and to the Carthusian brothers for his soul.

In old age, Eleanor was finally fulfilling the role that her English subjects considered proper for their queens, tempering the king’s harsh rule with mercy and busying herself with spiritual matters. Eleanor met Richard at Winchester soon after his landing at Portsmouth on 13 August 1189 to join his entourage. When he learned that English castles on the southern frontier of Wales were being attacked by the Welsh, his first impulse was to march immediately to their relief, but heeding his mother’s counsel, he continued on his way to Westminster for his coronation. In preparation for the queen-mother’s participation in the coronation festivities, over £100 was spent on clothing, furs, horses and their harness, and other items to ensure that she and her entourage made an appropriately splendid impression.

Her household now included a number of noble maidens in her care, among them Alix of France, Richard’s long-suffering fiancée and victim of Henry II’s lust; Count John’s betrothed, Isabelle, daughter of the deceased earl of Gloucester; and Denise of Déols, heir to the lordship of Berry and soon to be the bride of Andrew of Chauvigny, one of Richard’s Poitevin stalwarts. Andrew had ties of kinship with Eleanor through her Châtellerault ancestors, and his kinsmen had supplied officials for the counts of Poitou. Bernard de Chauvigny had served as the queen’s chamberlain during her first years in England, and Richard as count of Poitou had made Geoffrey de Chauvigny his chamberlain.

Eleanor acknowledged her ties to both Andrew and Denise by attending their wedding at Salisbury. Richard took care to ensure that his mother had adequate wealth for maintaining a standard of living appropriate for a great queen, although as duchess of Aquitaine she was already rich and powerful in her own right. The division of the duchy’s resources between Richard and his mother is unclear, but Eleanor evidently felt no constraint on making grants from Poitou’s revenues. As duke of Normandy, Richard granted his mother income from some Norman administrative agencies.

…In spring 1190, after Richard had crossed to Normandy, he summoned his mother, his brother John, his illegitimate brother Geoffrey Plantagenet, and several bishops to a great council at Nonancourt. This council’s purpose was to lay out plans for governing the new king’s lands during his expedition to the Holy Land, and he provided funds for his mother’s travel. Richard had taken the cross in 1187, and it is his leadership of the Third Crusade, 1190–92, that makes him the best known of all medieval English monarchs.

During Eleanor’s voyage across the Channel her mind must have turned to her own hardships endured on the Second Crusade more than forty years earlier, and her memories would have aroused fears for her son’s safety. Making the crossing with Eleanor were noble maidens in her entourage, among them her granddaughter Eleanor of Brittany, the unfortunate Alix of France, and the daughter of the countess of Eu. Also traveling with her was a great lady, Hawise, countess of Aumale, Normandy, lady of Skipton and Holderness in northern England, and the widow of the earl of Essex. A strong-willed lady similar to the queen-mother, a contemporary described her as “a woman who was almost a man, lacking nothing virile except the virile organs.”

Richard aimed to give her in marriage to William de Forz, one of his faithful knights in Poitou and a descendant of functionaries in the service of Eleanor and her predecessors. At the Nonancourt council, the new king made provision for his sole surviving brother during his absence on crusade. He handed over to John control of six shires in England and the county of Mortain in Normandy, and he confirmed his title of lord of Ireland, making him a dangerously overmighty subject in the British isles. Richard’s generosity to John in his strongly governed kingdom and his wealthiest French province gave his brother scope for causing trouble, although the king apparently felt confident that his weak character left him incapable of causing serious mischief.

Establishing the new count of Mortain in so powerful a position led some of Richard’s subjects to surmise that he did not expect to return from his crusade, and they feared that if he did, “His brother, already no less powerful than he and eager to rule, would defeat him and drive him out of the kingdom.” Richard’s lavish grants to John seemed an implicit declaration of his intent that John should be his heir in case of his death overseas. He saw that an explicit statement, however, would have encouraged the count’s bad behavior, as Henry II’s unhappy experience with Young King Henry had shown.

The Lionheart perhaps expected that two checks would discourage his brother from doing harm. One was their mother Eleanor’s influence, and the other was John’s oath to remain outside England during his brother’s absence from the kingdom, but neither worked as expected. First, Eleanor was away from England for several months in 1190–91, accompanying Richard as far as Chinon in Anjou, then crossing Aquitaine to Spain and across the Midi to conduct Richard’s bride to his camp at Messina in Sicily, where he was wintering before sailing to the Holy Land.

The second precaution, Count John’s promise at Nonancourt not to return to England for three years, was soon undone apparently through Eleanor’s pressing Richard to free him from his oath. She hardly knew her youngest son, who had grown up during her long captivity, and like Richard, she underestimated his capacity for trouble-making, or perhaps she expected that John’s awareness of his advantage as Richard’s presumed heir would induce him to behave himself. In fact, John surfaced “in active mischief” once his mother was far from England on her long journey to Spain and Sicily, although open moves against the regency government would begin only after he heard of his brother’s formal declaration of young Arthur of Brittany as heir late in 1190.

Once the queen-mother returned to the Anglo-Norman realm in 1191 she exerted her maternal pressure on her last-born son, succeeding in preventing him from rushing off to join Philip II following the French king’s premature return from the crusade in anger and frustration at Richard. At Nonancourt, the Lionheart named two chief justiciars to govern England jointly in his absence, but this scheme promptly collapsed on the death of one of them, William de Mandeville, earl of Essex. The king then began tinkering with his plan that ultimately would leave one of the co-justiciars, William Longchamp, bishop of Ely, solely in charge of the kingdom. Longchamp’s power rested on his control over the royal seal as royal chancellor, a sign of Richard’s confidence that in effect handed over to him the administration of the realm.

By limiting authority of the other co-justiciar, the bishop of Durham, to the north of England, Richard had given Longchamp an excuse to exclude him from Westminster, the center for royal administration. Finally in June 1190, Richard acknowledged Longchamp’s supremacy, declaring him chief justiciar of all England. On the same day that the king’s letter arrived, news came that the pope had conferred on Longchamp spiritual authority over the Church in the island kingdom as papal legate. One chronicler’s claims that Longchamp had “three titles and three heads” and that he had become “Caesar and more than Caesar” ring true.

Apparently Richard’s trust either created or encouraged an arrogance and ambition within his chancellor that would ultimately bring him to ruin. The issue of Richard’s marriage was doubtless a topic for discussion during the Nonancourt conference. It may have been at that time that he revealed to his mother his plan to marry Berengaria of Navarre, and he requested her to travel to Spain and bring his bride to him in Sicily. Among Eleanor’s weightiest concerns was the Lionheart’s marriage and the birth of a son and heir that would ensure dynastic continuity and preserve the unity of the Plantagenet holdings. She knew well the many dangers that lay ahead for a crusader king.

Years earlier, Richard had been betrothed to Alix, daughter of Louis VII and half-sister of Philip II, but he had always balked at wedding the Capetian princess, probably because of his belief that his own father had seduced her. Despite Eleanor’s anxieties, Richard himself showed few worries about the succession, confident that he would survive the dangers of an expedition to the Levant and live long enough to sire heirs. His mother was wary of the potential heirs to Richard—his sole surviving brother, John, count of Mortain in Normandy; her grandson Arthur of Brittany; and Richard’s half-brother Geoffrey Plantagenet, a cleric in minor orders.

At Messina in Sicily, before sailing for the Holy Land, the Lionheart would name his nephew, Arthur of Brittany as his heir. Eleanor considered the child Arthur unacceptable because of the ferocious hostility of his Breton mother toward her Plantagenet in-laws. Eleanor can hardly have had much sympathy for Geoffrey, her late husband’s beloved bastard son, and she opposed Richard’s honoring his father’s wishes by naming him archbishop of York. Before Geoffrey could be consecrated, he had to take priestly vows, making him less credible as a potential king, and like John, he was barred from entering the kingdom for three years.

Notwithstanding any doubts that Eleanor harbored about her youngest son’s character, she apparently viewed him as the sole suitable successor to the English throne should Richard die without direct heir, and possibly her insistence that Richard release John from his obligation of remaining outside the kingdom reflects her concern for his succession. A chronicle from the crusader kingdom maintains that Eleanor was the instigator of Richard’s marriage to Berengaria because her hatred and resentment of the king of France and his offspring led her to prevent at any price her son’s marriage to a daughter of Louis VII. This work is a continuation of William of Tyre’s chronicle that had recorded the Antioch affair that had brought public attention to Eleanor’s troubles with her first husband.

It is unlikely, however, that Richard Lionheart was “bullied into marriage by his formidable mother” or that she can be credited with negotiating his marriage to Berengaria of Navarre. Despite Eleanor’s feelings about Richard’s choice of a bride or her fears for the succession, her son’s marriage to a princess from the Pyrenean kingdom must be seen as his own plan. Allying himself with Berengaria’s father, King Sancho VI (d.1194), and her brother, the future Sancho VII, formed part of a program for stabilizing Gascony. Richard saw the match as “an ingenious diplomatic device . . . in order to cut his way through a thicket of political problems,” probably proposed by him as early as February 1190 at a great council of the Gascon nobility at La Réole.”

- Ralph V. Turner, “The Queen-Mother: Richard’s Reign, 1189–1199.” in Eleanor of Aquitaine: Queen of France, Queen of England

#eleanor of aquitaine #eleanor of aquitaine: queen of france queen of england #richard i of england #john lackland #history #english #medieval #high middle ages #ralph v. turner

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huntress-of-the-unknown · 2 years

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Nissa Diaval [LFRP]

BASICS –––

◈ Name: Nissa Diaval, previously known as Nissa Dalamiq.

◈ Age: 24 years old.

◈ Birthday: 30 Sun of the Third Umbral Moon.

◈ Race: Au Ra Xaela, from the Dalamiq tribe.

◈ Gender: Female.

◈ Sexuality: Bisexual.

◈ Marital Status: Single.

◈ Server: Lousoix. (Chaos Data Center).

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE –––

◈ Hair: Pure white, straight and short. It covers partially one of her eyes.

◈ Eyes: Purple, with pure white limbal rings product of accidental over-exposure to Light-aligned aether. They used to be black.

◈ Height: 153 cm.

◈ Build: Very toned and slender, with narrow hips and a medium chest.

◈ Distinguishing Marks: Deep purple freckles under her eyes. Very long, barbed tail. Curved, symmetrical horns, and very dark scales. She has some small silvery scars in her body, the most important of them a diagonal cut in her torso.

◈ Common Accessories: Two metal rings around the end of her horns. A silver necklace under her clothes, with a black crystal. A single blue earring, with a Menphina symbol in silver.

ABOUT –––

Rumors travel quickly around the Holy See of Isghard. Rumors about a shadow prowling the rooftops, about voidsent surges silenced before they can even abandon their crypts… And priceless treasures vanishing from noble vaults without trace. Rumors about someone, somewhere, making sure to keep things balanced. Taking and giving, killing and saving. They say that person is a mercenary under a mysterious organization, others say it’s a ghost… Or multiple people, working all in tandem. Only the first ones get it, and only half right.

Because Nissa doesn’t consider herself a mercenary, even if she often takes money for her deeds. She’s just a guardian, a huntress armed with two blades and years of running and fighting for her life. Born in the distant city of Terncliff to the Dalamiq clan, her family was hunted down as soon as Dalamud fell, for they adored the Moon as their goddess. Her father didn’t survive. To escape, the rest of them took a ship to the nearest Eorzean city: The Holy See of Isghard. The sailors in the ship gave them special glamour prisms that made them look like elezen, so they could disappear among the common population… Just in case. And immediately, Nissa started selling her services as a voidsent hunter to keep the rest alive and well, out of the slums. Having been trained by her father and a Doma-born shinobi back in Terncliff, her fighting style made her stand out amongst her peers… While giving her the capability to run another business in the back: Being a thief for hire, or more commonly, retrieving relics from the crypts filled with heretics and selling them for hefty prices. Relics that would be considered beyond blasphemous if she ever got caught… And she did.

Her prism failed during a mission, revealing her true appearance and race to the rest. She wasn’t only dragon-like, she lied to them… And introduced dangerous cargo in the city. So she was prosecuted, and sentenced to a few (tens of) years in prison. Or she would be, if she failed the trial by combat.

Nobody really knows how she did it. She won, technically, and she cheated for sure because she went up a reowned knight. But she was left off the hook… And the scare eased off her greed quite a bit, limiting her to haunting monsters, not you know… Valuables. Mostly. Well, she hasn't been caught again, okay?

She has since met a group of mercenaries, kindred spirits, and started travelling with them. Little by little, the survivor made criminal is becoming a true adventurer.

PERSONAL –––

◈ Profession: Voidsent hunter and relic thief.

◈ Hobbies: Card games, gardening, knife collecting.

◈ Languages: Common (spoken and just a little reading), xaela tribal language.

◈ Residence: An always-booked room in the Forgotten Knight in Isghard. She also has a thief den/safe house in Limsa Lominsa.

◈ Birthplace: Werlyt, Terncliff.

◈ Religion: Born in the Dalamiq religion, who worshipped Dalamud. She has an ongoing crisis of faith lately.

◈ Patron Deity: Halone, The Fury.

◈ Fears: To be hunted down, like it happened in Isghard at first. To lose her freedom.

RELATIONSHIPS –––

◈ Spouse: None.

◈ Children: None.

◈ Parents: Altani Dalamiq (Mother, alive), Jebke Dalamiq (Father, dead).

◈ Siblings: N/A.

◈ Other Relatives: N/A.

◈ Pets: A fat cat named Catpuccino and a griffin who she uses as her main mount. She uses a little automaton to aid her on missions.

TRAITS –––

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

HABITS –––

◈ Smoking Habit: No.

◈ Drugs: No.

◈ Alcohol: Sometimes, in fact only when celebrating something. She has rather expensive tastes for a thief.

CHARACTER HOOKS –––

◈ Guardian of Balance: Nissa’s main job, and source of both money and personal fulfillment. Her main way to care for the world she loves is to protect it from spiraling into darkness, one hunt at a time. She both stops summonings as soon as she finds them, and fights off beings from beyond the realm when it’s too late.

◈ Know thy enemy: Being of humble descent, Nissa didn’t get a formal education when she was young. But now, she has the resources and peace necessary… And has taken special interest in void magic and its workings to perfect her craft.

◈ Lost and found: Nissa can be hired to “recover” (read: also steal) ancient relics. The line between graverobbing and archeology is very thin, and this Au Ra disregards it completely and deliberately.

◈ Daughter of Dalamud: An enemy to all garleans, for they were responsible of her father’s lynching and banishing her family from their home. Fights will be picked on sight, specially if said garlean has a penchant for considering Au Ras savages or even beast tribes.

◈ Shadow of Steel: A mysterious shade who seeks to protect people who cannot protect themselves. Even if the Church has lost most of her power nowadays, Nissa is still vigilant both at home and in her travels.

◈ Blood Brothers: The ties of the clan run strong even in the distance. If you are also a Dalamiq, she will love to meet you even if only to talk and know what happened to the rest of her wayward clan.

◈ Once upon a Time: Anything and everything else can be discussed.

OUT OF CHARACTER THINGS AND CONTACT INFORMATION –––

I’m comfortable with most violent topics, as long as they are not sexual in nature. As for contact information, you can find me either here, or in-game, in the Lousoix server.

#nissa diaval #ffxiv rp #ffxiv roleplay #ffxiv lfrp #au ra female #xaela #shadow for hire

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solastia · 4 years

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Love And Lies | 1

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x F!Reader

Summary: You are a simple maid. When your lady and dearest friend need help escaping an arranged marriage with King Seokjin so they might be together, you do the only thing you can - take her place.

A/N: It was my intention to not post this story until it was totally completed, but I got too excited. There are about three chapters already in my drafts and I just really like how it’s turning out. Don’t worry, I’m still totally working on everything else too. I’m just going through a list of popular tropes that I’ve never gotten around to writing for, and this one covers both historical and arranged marriage. I’ll be posting the last chapter of Tuqburni as soon as I get it back from my beta and finish any corrections. Make sure to leave lots of comments on this one!

“I will not do this. He cannot force me to marry some strange man for his own selfish grab for power.”

“He can. You know he does this with your best interests in mind, my lady. And everything is already arranged. You leave in the morning.”

You listen to the now familiar argument as you fold your mistress’s garments into the opulently decorated trunks. A door slams, followed by a crash like something delicate hit the wall and a high-pitched scream resonated throughout the massive bedroom.

You sigh tiredly, knowing that the woman’s ire was going to be filling your own ears next.

“What are you doing, ___? I just said I wasn’t going.”

Lady Eleanor Rose D’Aily flounced back into her bed chambers, her rosy lips turned down in a petulant pout and her wilting golden curls bouncing around as she flung herself across her bed.

“I’m afraid Master Steward already spoke with me while you were on your afternoon ride. He ordered me to pack your belongings and warned that guards would be here to escort us at first light. And,” you add, flashing a warning glance at your impulsive charge, “He informed me that guards are being placed outside of your doors and windows should you attempt to escape your fate.”

“Ugg, this is torturous. Why is Papa doing this? I always thought he’d want to keep me close. Why send me to some old man that I’ve never met and will never love?”

“I dare say he believes he secured his beloved child a bridegroom most could only dream of. After all, you’ve been selected by the King of Verinthia himself - who is not yet thirty, mind you. You’re to be Queen Eleanor of Verinthia. Think of all the wondrous things you can do for your people.”

At that her lady sighed, pondering that point. For though your mistress was unarguably spoiled, she still had a good heart. You had no doubt that if she were to be Queen, a great deal of good would be done under her reign.

“But...Jungkook. I don’t want to marry anyone but Jungkook.”

And that was the core of this rebellion. As cliché as it was, Lady Eleanor - the only child of the Duke Of Nevers - was in love with a mere Knight.

Sir Jungkook Jeon had basically been raised right alongside Eleanor after being sent by his Baron father to foster under the Duke. The lad was the youngest of eight and there was nothing left for him to inherit, so he was sent out to make his own way in the world.

He had started as a pageboy at the age of nearly eight, became the Duke’s squire at fourteen, and had been knighted and declared Captain of Lady Eleanor’s guard at eighteen. All of his formative years had been spent here at Nevers and all of them included his tiny blonde shadow begging for some scrap of his attention. The fact that somewhere along the line that childhood friendship morphed into love did not surprise you overly much.

Especially since you had been their third wheel for just as many years, and they were your dearest friends - as much as one can be friends between nobles and servants.

You had been assigned to the six-year-old Eleanor when you had been eleven, and she had always treated you more as a big sister than simply her personal maid. Therefore, you had been dragged through every mischievous plot the two had come up with, listened to them wax poetic about each other until you wished your ears would fall off, and helped transport letters between the two like their own personal pigeon.

However, no one cheered for their love more than you, either. Your lady was pampered and naïve but possessed a kind heart and a fun-loving personality that made her hard to dislike. Add to that Sir Jungkook’s honor and legendary ambition - tempered by his mischievous tendencies - and you had a match blessed by the heavens.

As far as you were aware, he’d been the very picture of Knightly chivalry and had not given in to your lady’s more impulsive urges for…taking liberties. Though you could often catch him staring longingly at Eleanor, she often bemoaned his refusal to so much as kiss his lord’s daughter beyond a chivalrous one on the back of her hand.

And now - now the poor Sir Jungkook was going to have to watch the love of his life being sent to the King. Your heart aches for the pair.

You watch as a single glistening tear rolls down your lady’s flawless cheeks.

“Do you think Papa and His Majesty will at least let me keep Jungkook as my Captain?”

You sigh and sit next to her, reaching over to run your fingers through her hair soothingly.

“He’s going to be part of our escort, but that’s it. Once we reach the palace, the Duke has stated that he’ll be granting Jungkook leave from the remaining year of service he owed - along with a keep of his own for his many years faithfully served. I heard him say it was about time Sir Jungkook started a family of his own.”

“And that’s not going to happen with anyone but my Ellie.”

The two of you whirled when the words reached you from her balcony, where a disheveled Sir Jungkook heaved himself from the massive oak he had climbed to get there.

“Jungkook!” Eleanor exclaimed happily, throwing herself at the beaming Knight.

How beautiful they looked together, even with Eleanor’s eyes reddened from tears and the leaves and twigs adorning Jungkook’s long ebony hair which had long been released from it’s usual leather tie.

“Greetings, Sis,” Jungkook grins cheekily over Eleanor’s shoulder at you.

“Evening greetings to you, Sir J…” Jungkook clears his throat at you in warning. You sigh wearily, “Fine. Greetings, Jungkook. What brings you to a chamber where you’re likely to get all our heads lopped off?”

His grin transforms into a smile of triumph as he holds Eleanor to his side tightly. “I had an idea!”

“Ooh, yes. That is news,” you nod, letting humor color your tone in the privacy of this room.

Eleanor giggles while Jungkook merely rolls his eyes. “I’m deadly serious. I have a solution that will be wonderful for us all.”

“Ohhh, My handsome Knight is so wise,” Eleanor sighs and leans her head into the preening man’s shoulder.

“You haven’t even heard the plan yet. It could be absurd,” you snort, rolling your eyes.

“It’s...a little absurd,” Jungkook muses aloud, and you grunt at Eleanor as if to say ‘Told you so.’

“Out with it, my love. I’m willing to consider anything to get us out of this madness,” She implores him with an impatient tug on his sapphire tunic - the one that Eleanor had hand-embroidered herself for nearly two years, you noticed.

“I will indeed escort you to the palace. However, once there…” Jungkook begins nervously, while you glare at him in suspicion. He refuses to meet your eyes straight on. This was never a good sign.

“Yes? Once there…” you prompt with a quirked eyebrow.

“Once there...you’ll switch with Ellie,” he says with an audible gulp. “She’ll pretend to be your maid in public and you’ll be the King’s betrothed. I’ll tell the Duke that I will stay on as Captain of the guard until I receive several copies of the deed to the keep he promised me. Once I have that in hand, Ellie and I will wed and it will be too late for him to stop us. You can simply tell the King that you don’t think you’ll suit and then I’ll spirit you both away to my keep!”

You were appalled. “So many sins in that one little plan. So many lies and…” you angrily huffed, folding your arms. “Jungkook, no one is going to believe that I’m a Duke’s daughter, nor a candidate to be Queen. My mother is a seamstress and my father is a tanner. I don’t have a single drop of noble blood in my veins. I’ll be found out and beheaded in a day.”

“Oh, but you’ve essentially been raised in a Duke’s household,” Eleanor added helpfully, obviously on board with Jungkook’s foolish plan for the simple reason that it came out of his mouth. “You were right at my side through every lesson and know everything as well as I,” she cocked her head as she stared at you thoughtfully. “And not that it will come to that, but I think you would make a wonderful Queen.”

Jungkook smiles fondly at his love, bringing her hand up to his lips to place a chaste kiss on the back of it before he strides purposely towards you. The Knight falls to one knee before you and grasps both of your hands into his, looking up at you with warm brown eyes.

“You have always been our dearest friend and the sister of our hearts, no matter our stations. I know what I’m asking of you is more than a simple favor - it’s a risk to our lives, though mainly yours. Know that I do not ask lightly, for your life is as precious to me as my Ellie’s. This is the only way I can think of to save myself and her from a life of misery. I have tried everything, Sis. I...I even dropped to my knees and begged the Duke for permission to court her.”

“You did what? When was this?” Eleanor exclaimed, and even you leaned forward in shocked wonder.

“A fortnight ago. That’s when he offered me the keep. He simply laughed at my request and said that I have been too isolated here and must have forgotten that other women exist beyond these walls. That I only offered for Ellie out of familiarity. He said perhaps if he hadn’t had better offers for her he would have considered it since I am a fine man, but he’d already talked up the King and no one could ask for better than that,” he finishes with a mocking scoff.

You sigh heavily and glance out the balcony window at the darkening sky. It was true that all seemed rather hopeless for the two of them. No doubt if you ignored this plan and simply went forward with the way it was supposed to, Eleanor would despise you. You would be instrumental in denying her from being with her love and shuffled off to an affectionless arranged marriage. Jungkook would either go off to his keep and live alone forever or demand a position in the palace to keep watch over her from afar, breaking his own heart day after day.

But...there was also your own self to consider. Say you did this thing...you would have to pretend for however long it took for Jungkook to get his affairs in order that you were the daughter of one of the most powerful nobles in the land. That there was something about you worth placing on the throne next to the young King and ruling over the lives of thousands. And if you were to slip up even once, you could spend the rest of your life in the dungeon or beheaded in the royal courtyard.

If you were wiser, perhaps less sentimental, you would say them nay. You would continue packing and close your ears to their pleas. However, when Eleanor drops to her knees next to Jungkook and stares at you imploringly with tears in her pretty blue eyes, twining her hand into her love’s like it might be the last time, you knew you were going to relent. No two people deserved to be with each other more than they. And besides, if this plot were successful, you would tag along to the new keep with them and happily stand at their side as they built a new life together, full of love and hope, and possibly children. You certainly had doubts about the two of them as parents without you around anyway. Jungkook would give their child a real sword at two years and wonder why people were missing ears. Eleanor would cry when it came time to change a nappie.

“Get up, you two,” you grunt wearily. What had you done to deserve being stuck with these two for life? “I’ll do it.”

“You will?” Eleanor squealed, throwing herself onto you with a whirl of costly silk and rose oil.

You nod. “I will do my best. Just know that if I die, I will haunt both of you.”

Jungkook grins, “We’d deserve it.”

He grabs your hand and places a brisk kiss on the back of it, then does the same for Eleanor before striding back towards the balcony.

“Get some rest, ladies. We leave at first light and it will take us several days to reach the palace by carriage.”

He vaults over the balcony onto the oak tree and disappears from sight. Eleanor sighs and sits next to you on the bed, lacing an arm in yours and placing her head on your shoulder.

“Think you this scheme will work?” She asks softly.

“It has to,” you whisper.

And it does. The consequences if it did not were far too dire.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #kim seokjin #seokjin #seokjin fanfic #seokjin scenarios #jin #seokjin x reader #mxr #solastia #medieval #historical!au #King Seokjin #love and lies #jin x reader

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autumnslance · 3 years

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((Shadowbringers post-5.3. NSFW for naughty language and a scoundrel scandalizing his girlfriend.))

The ceremony was lengthy, the lists and speeches interminable, and Aeryn struggled to not doze off. She shifted in her seat as the sermon continued.

Thancred dropped his arm from the back of her chair to her shoulder. “Sleepy?” He pitched his voice so only she could hear.

“Mm-hm,” she replied, then whispered, “How’re you staying awake?”

She realized it had been a mistake to ask when a wicked grin curled up his lips. “Well,” he murmured. “I’ve been thinking about all the carnal things we’re going to do when we’re alone later.”

Her eyes widened and the heat bloomed on her cheeks. “Thancred,” she hissed, sitting up straighter.

“What?” he asked, amused. “Woke you up, didn’t it?”

“The worst,” Aeryn muttered fondly while he snickered.

She counted up to two minutes before he leaned close. “Now that I’m thinking about it, though…”

“Thought you already were?”

“Your jacket will have to come off.”

“It tends to when retiring for the night—”

“So I can put my hand on the back of your neck to hold you in place when I bend you over the nearest table.” The hand on her shoulder slid over until his fingertips were brushing the nape of her neck under her hair and collar.

Aeryn sucked in a breath, heat flaring once more...and not just in her face, godsdamn him. “This isn’t appropriate,” she whispered, eyes darting to check if anyone else had heard as she adjusted her seat again to cross her legs.

But the Warrior of Light and her companion were in the Fortemps box, high in the rear of the small auditorium, the other Scions having found reasons for their absence, including Alphinaud; not even their resident diplomat wanted to sit through another Ishgardian ceremony as a favor to their highborn friends. The heads of the elezens in the seats in front of them were barely visible, and heavy drapes separated the other noble boxes, forcing one to lean forward to glimpse other High House attendees—she had waved to the disgruntled-looking Stephanivien de Hailenarte earlier, presence no doubt forced as he always preferred to be in the Manufactory.

They were as alone as they could be in such a public venue.

“No, I suppose not,” Thancred agreed, sounding far too amused and looking completely at ease as he leaned back in his seat. His fingertips continued to tease her neck.

She counted another minute while the priest droned on before Thancred’s fingernails ever so gently pressed into her nape while he whispered, “Nor would it be appropriate to mention how much I wish to push up that skirt to sate my curiosity; full tights, or stockings? If the latter, are you wearing garters?”

“I’m not telling you,” she hissed, highly aware of his hold on her neck. She tried to pay attention to the priest once more, but her pulse was growing louder in her own ears and prevented any comprehension.

“I’m hoping for stockings,” Thancred mused. “Then they can stay on as I run my hand up your thighs until I find the hems of your smalls.”

Aeryn bit the inside of her cheek and tried not to squirm. She wasn’t giving him the satisfaction yet.

“I shall run my fingers where fabric meets skin,” he said, speaking in the rumbling purr she enjoyed him using in the bedroom which was not helping. His fingertips still massaged her neck. “Until I hear that delightful little whimper you make when about to beg of me.”

She was certain her face was on fire now.

He leaned close. “Only then, darling, will I test to see just how wet you’ve gotten,” Thancred’s whisper was a thunderous growl in her ear.

Aeryn’s boot hit the floor more heavily than she intended. She tried to look casual as she recrossed her legs and swallowed. She was not telling him how heated she was getting now.

“I haven’t decided yet,” he continued, lips brushing her earlobe. “If I’m going to remove your pantalettes entirely, or pull them just far enough aside to ravish you with my hand.”

She could practically feel his smirk as she gripped the armrests and tried to focus on the priest expounding at the podium. The man’s name escaped her at the moment.

Thancred made a long, thoughtful “hmm” noise; that was utterly unfair. “I suppose it won’t matter when I’m stroking you until you come for the first time for me.”

“We are in a church,” she hissed, trying to ignore the sudden throbbing between her thighs. While Aeryn didn’t believe in the gods anymore, she knew he did—if he had the shame to behave.

“And?” he asked. “Only men have such hangups, not the gods themselves. Especially if one’s studied them and what they get up to, and just why certain places are considered sacred.” The casual brushing of his fingertips over her neck still was not helping. “If I could I’d have you right here, as Thaliak did Azeyma in what became one of their holiest temples.”

“You are making that up,” she said, voice hoarse.

“I’ll show you the texts,” Thancred replied. “Perhaps after having you over the table. I think slowly to start with,” he added idly. “Just to feel you, tight and warm around me, savoring you over and over, building the pace and intensity until you come for me again.”

The auditorium burst into polite applause, startling her and drawing attention to the stage. The small squad of knights being honored for their deeds on the Gyr Abanian battlefields stepped up to receive their awards and promotions.

Aeryn took the opportunity to breathe, clapping as well. “Remind me not to ask how you handle boredom again,” she muttered, attempting to sound grumpy and knowing she was failing.

Thancred chuckled as he joined the polite applause, her neck regretfully free of his touch now. “Kept us awake through that sermon, didn’t it?”

“You’re just hoping I jump you as soon as we return to my room,” she accused in a whisper that didn’t sound as disgruntled as she wished.

“I would definitely count that as a bonus,” he replied. “I have to admit that I wonder what it would take to get you to ‘jump me’ before we reach privacy.”

“Not happening,” Aeryn retorted, attempting to refocus on the stage as the priests and officers went over each knight’s deeds.

“Are you sure?” Thancred asked, that dangerously amused tone returning. “You’re so quiet, it wouldn’t be difficult to find an alcove in a side hallway, perhaps an unused confessional, and press you against the wall, lifting your skirt and legs.” His hand now rested over hers upon the armrest, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on her wrist.

She tried to affect a scowl while continuing to watch the stage. Soon enough, Thancred rumbled a thoughtful “Hmm.” She watched him from the corner of her eyes.

“But if the goal is to get you to initiate, then perhaps you’d prefer to pull me into a dark side room or corner and make me lean on a wall while you get on your knees. I would muss that lovely hairstyle you’re wearing, though.”

Aeryn took a deep breath before she could respond. “I can hardly manage that properly in private, you’ll be sorely disappointed if I try in public. Which I won’t,” she hastily added, seeing his grin.

“Practice makes perfect, darling, and you have been improving,” he assured her, giving her hand a squeeze. “Besides, it would give me cause to reciprocate. That’s what you really enjoy, isn’t it? Me on my knees instead, scribing you poems directly until you’re shaking?”

The imagery was in her mind now, damn him, remembering keenly the last time he had spoken a poem between her legs; his tongue and fingers had left her on the edge of bliss for the better part of an hour before finally tipping her over.

“Of course, then I might actually have to cover your mouth, as you almost make noise when I extol your virtues upon your virtue.”

She eye-rolled at that. In part to cover the little thrill up her spine when he spoke of keeping her quiet. She might have to examine that in more detail later.

“I believe in that case I would bring you close, then wrap your legs ‘round my waist and fuck you against the wall until we’ve both had our pleasure.”

Aeryn bit her lip. His precise deployment of profanity had caused another heated surge low in her belly.

“Then we’ll retire to your room, and then I’ll bend you over the table for more.”

“Think so?” Thank goodness, she managed not to squeak.

“Assuming you’re amenable, of course,” he whispered, giving her hand another squeeze. The ceremony was nearly over.

“I suppose you’ll have to see. When we’re in private.”

He chuckled again, and she did her best to pretend to ignore him in favor of what was happening on stage.

The end of the service and the following hour mingling in the hall removed most of the scandalous conversation from her mind. Aeryn and Thancred wove through the crowd, greeting old friends, smiling and nodding as they were introduced to various people, and otherwise engaged with the upper crust of Ishgardian society until Aeryn’s head spun.

Some baronet was standing far too close and acting far too familiar; she was ready to snap when Thancred stepped in, offering an arm. “Beg pardon, but they expect us at Fortemps Manor,” he said smoothly, smiling at the baronet though his eyes glinted with warning.

Aeryn tucked her arm in Thancred’s. “Of course. You must excuse us, ser.” She barely gave a nod before Thancred pulled her away. “Thank you,” she murmured as they wound through the press of people, hardly thinned despite the hour.

“We should have left a quarter bell ago,” he replied. “You were close to overwhelmed.”

She gave his arm a squeeze. “Not so long as you’re around to keep me steady. Or rescue me from obnoxious nobles.”

“More rescuing the nobles from you,” he replied dryly, smiling as she laughed. He guided her down a narrow stairwell, away from the main hall and exit of the cathedral. “We should be able to leave through a side door to avoid the crowds. But first…” He veered, pulling Aeryn through a door into a small storage chamber, rows of robes hanging along the walls, shelves and boxes of other vestments filling most of the room. Only a narrow space next to the door was free of clutter, and that was where Aeryn’s back pressed as Thancred initiated a passionate kiss.

The earlier conversation flared to the forefront of her mind. Her face—and other parts of her, dammit—heated again while he held her close, the kiss long and deep and oh so promising.

Eventually they pulled but ilms apart, Thancred letting out a satisfied sigh as he leaned his forehead against hers. “I needed that.”

“You’re rather intent on this little fantasy of yours, aren’t you?” she murmured affectionately.

“I perhaps did work myself up, teasing you,” he responded, voice low. Beneath the amusement was a desire that made her breath catch.

Aeryn cleared her throat. “Well, that’s your own fault. We’d best be getting home…”

His hands ran up and down her arms. “You are so…Coerthan tonight.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” She arched her brows.

“Outwardly acting the prim and proper maid, while truly you want very much to be completely undone,” Thancred murmured in that delightful low bedroom voice as they kissed again, his hand on her hip pulling them together and now her heart was racing.

Aeryn pushed him away, holding a finger up as he affected a pout. “First, I am not, you’re being ridiculous—”

“Always, where you’re involved, but you really are—”

“And second,” she continued, a touch exasperated. “We are still in a church and need to return to the manor.” He gave her an expectant look. She sighed. “Once there, I may be persuaded to let you have your way with me.”

“May?” Thancred grinned.

Aeryn smiled oh-so-sweetly back. “Depends how cold the walk between here and there is.”

“I feel compelled to point out we have a perfectly warm room right here.”

“Absolutely not.”

“For an adventurer, you’re certainly lacking a sense of it.”

Aeryn rolled her eyes and gently shoved him aside, leaving the storeroom. Thancred laughed, catching up and reclaiming her arm. “Very well, my dear. Allow me to escort you, and I shall hope you are very cold and require warming once we are within the privacy of the manor.”

Her blush returned and she sighed again, though it turned into a bout of giggles as they left the cathedral.

#Final Fantasy XIV #Lyn Writing #Thancred Waters #Thancred x WoL #Shippy Nonsense #Aeryn Striker

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ampleappleamble · 3 years

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—

It was a simple platitude, and one he'd heard quite often growing up: "Be ever honest, forthright, and true, and ne'er shall Woedica frown upon you." The rhyme was reductive and childish, but the sentiment was understandable enough– Honesty is a virtue, and one that should serve any good, upright citizen of Aedyr well.

Of course, Aloth knew better.

He'd known better since he was fifteen years old, clutching his face in his hands and choking on his own tears while his mother tried to soothe him, brushing back his smooth, black hair and holding him close, careful to avoid the bruises, all the while imploring him you must never tell a soul of this, Aloth, never, for even I could not help you then. He'd known better after running to the proctor about the incident with the spellwrights gilde and their damned machine, trying to bring it all to light, and instead of finding himself languishing in a dungeon for the atrocity he'd taken part in, he was instructed to continue to meet with them, to keep his mouth shut and his eyes and ears open. No matter the rewards honesty promised, the people in his life always seemed to reinforce the lesson that deception and secrecy were the true keys to success.

Until now. Until her.

Since their very first meeting outside the Black Hound Inn, as far as he could tell– and he considered himself a decent judge of character, most of the time– Axa had not uttered a single lie to anyone she'd spoken with, had not suppressed nor sugarcoated a single truth, no matter how painful. The closest she'd gotten to lying was her reluctance to discuss the chain of events that had lead her to relocate to the Dyrwood, and even that had come out eventually, and entirely of her own volition. In fact, she seemed to not only practice honesty in her words and her deeds, but to relentlessly pursue the truth, to champion it, to draw it out of others like venom from a wound and leave both parties happier for it. Hel, she'd even managed to get him to open up.

How did she make it look so easy?

Practice, I reck'n. Isnae easy fer ye, tellin' sooth, coz yer nae accustomed to it, are ye, lad? Iselmyr's unwanted commentary was almost constant, now, and Aloth could not tell whether it was due to his control over himself deteriorating further, or if she had simply been emboldened by their secret finally being out after all these years. Either way, it was wearing on his nerves, and he worried that it was starting to show. It certainly didn't help that the others were as curious about Iselmyr as he was eager to be rid of her, and only about half of them seemed to possess the decorum to recognize his discomfort and drop it. Even Axa had asked if it were possible for her to speak directly to the horrid little pest, although to her credit she'd only had to be told "no" once, unlike Edér and Kana who seemingly only deigned to speak with him in order to badger him about his "friend," trying to trade jokes with her or learn Hylspeak from her or– Berath take him– flirt with her.

"Jealous," she'd smirked, and Aloth had gone bright red when Edér had laughed in response, only then realizing that she'd made him say it out loud.

Am only out 'n' jawin' wie kith cozza yer wee burd, laddie. If ye've aught t' complain about, tell it t' her. As much as he hated to agree with Iselmyr, he had to admit that she had a point– if he'd been left to his own devices, he might never have told anyone about his Awakening and simply lived his whole life suffering in silence. But since he'd started following Axa, talking with her, fighting alongside her, earning her trust and starting to trust her in return, he'd found that opening up about himself– and Iselmyr– was far easier than he'd ever expected it would be. The clever little woman had had him halfway figured out by the time he finally told her anyway, which had certainly helped speed things along. She had even suggested a method by which he might finally learn more about his condition, although the thought of letting some jackleg animancer strap him to a table (don't think about the spellwrights the experiment don't think about Targun his eyes empty and lifeless and dull don't think about it don't) and peer into his soul made his skin crawl.

But it didn't seem quite so dismaying when he reminded himself that she'd be there with him.

The events of the day thus far had only served to reinforce this notion. She'd broached the topic over breakfast, suggesting that after they finish their business with the Knights, they make the sanitarium their very next stop of the day– "May as well get it over with, right?"– but he had deflected and redirected, stating that he'd hoped to read up on animancy a bit more before making the plunge– "After all, I've waited fifty years, I can wait a few more hours"– while reminding her that she had expressed a desire to parley with the Eyeless Face sometime soon. A little nudge in the right direction was all it had taken for Kana to commandeer the conversation, excitedly gushing about banned books and Waelite secrets, and Aloth had sighed with relief even as he'd winced at the knowing look Sagani had given him. But Axa had not seen fit to press the matter, and so they'd agreed on their plans and headed for Crucible Keep, turning over the research for their new Forge Knights without any issues.

And upon arriving at the Hall of Revealed Mysteries, the distractions had quickly accumulated, as they tended to do. The forgemaster at the Keep had done little to assuage his worries about animancy in general, and every book about animancy he'd half-heartedly attempted to peruse only ended up making him more anxious, so instead he'd spent most of his time leafing through old favorites, comforting himself with the certainties of the classics, repetitively tracing his slender fingers over ancient runes in arcane treatises he'd practically memorized years ago during his training. It was a surefire method of calming himself down, helping him to collect his thoughts– or it would have been if he hadn't been continually interrupted by Iselmyr's whining, Edér's yawning, Kana's incessant attempts to "help" him with his research.

Aloth had just suffered yet another of these intrusions (Kana had jokingly shoved a primer on orlan physiology and anatomy under his nose, opened to a page with some... detailed illustrations) when the messenger from the palace had arrived, summoning Axa to court. He'd have been pleased for such a convenient excuse to continue the deferral of their visit to the sanitarium, but the scene at the Hall of Records had been far from a pleasant one.

"This is she?" Arledr Gathbin had glared down at the little woman, naked contempt on his sneering face. "This little varlet, she's the one who murdered my kin and now clings like a leech to my ancestral land? I'd thought she was just some servant, a wench from the scullery."

"This wench," Axa had snapped back, "claimed that land– a keep abandoned by your noble line for well over a hundred years, I'll remind you– by strength of arms, and with the assistance of the few good men and women standing alongside me." Sagani and Pallegina had blinked in surprise at her words, but raised no objection. "And in any case, I didn't see your name on the door."

Gathbin had reared back as though she'd spat at him. "Never speak to me so brazenly again, cur," he'd hissed, "or you won't have time enough left in your miserable life to regret it."

Chancellor Warrin had been quick to bring the meeting back to order, but the calm had not lasted long. Upon learning that Caed Nua would only be his upon the condition that he pay reparations to Axa for services rendered in recovering it, Gathbin had flown into an even greater rage, going so far as to raise his hand to the Chancellor. And although he had effectively just declared Axa homeless, she had still leapt between the two men to defend the Chancellor, her eyes blazing as she'd roared at Gathbin to stay his hand.

"You dare to issue orders to me, you hairy little wretch!?" He'd whirled on her, his face beet red, and the captain of his personal guard, a sharp-featured elf in gleaming black plate, had grinned eagerly as her hand flew to her pistol. Aloth had been surprised to suddenly feel the spine of his grimoire under his fingertips, his heart racing. And he hadn't been alone: all of Axa's allies had prepared to draw arms as well, Pallegina's blade already halfway out of its scabbard by the time Marshall Forwyn had stepped forward, hand on the hilt of his weapon, calmly but firmly suggesting that Gathbin contain himself.

After Gathbin had stormed off, after the dust had settled and Axa was officially declared thaynu and roadwarden of Caed Nua, she'd still had enough composure to ask the Chancellor to invite his lordship to settle their differences over dinner sometime– in her halls at Caed Nua, of course– before immediately turning to the record keeper who'd seen it all and asking him if she was now "established" enough to access the records from the Saint's War she'd inquired after previously. Edér's eyes had gone wide, his jaw rigid with apprehension as he'd accepted his prize at last, and as he'd flipped anxiously through the casualty listings, Aloth had mused on the little woman's fortitude, her quick wit, the loyalty she inspired in those who followed her.

And that loyalty was not misplaced. Even now as he struggled to gather the resolve to say what he needed to say, he couldn't stop thinking of the lost, haunted expression on Edér's face as he'd found his brother's name, looked up into Axa's eyes, asked her as though she'd known all along: "Why'd he fight for Readceras?" She hadn't hesitated for even a second when he'd beseeched her to go with him to the battlefield where Woden had died, laying her small, fuzzy hand on the blond man's shoulder and assuring him she'd do whatever it took to give him peace of mind.

Be ever forthright, honest, and true–

Maybe it was bearing witness to all that– her ironclad resolve in the face of a daunting foe, her powerful devotion to those who placed their trust in her– that made Aloth face Axa now, standing outside the Ducal Palace, and tell her he was ready to head for the sanitarium. "If you're still amenable, of course," he added quickly. If you'll help me stay strong enough to see it through, he thought.

If ye'll held me haund, kiss me wee arse–

She blinked in surprise, recovered, smiled warmly at him. "Of course," she replied. "We can go there now. As long as you're comfortable with the idea."

"Oh," he sighed, smiling pleasantly, "I'm not, no. But to be frank, I'll almost certainly never be more comfortable with the idea than I am right now, so honestly, it's now or never. I'm... simply choosing now."

"I can get behind that," she nodded, turning to the road before them. "Shall we, then?"

She lead, and he followed, desperately hoping he wasn't making a mistake.

—

#pillars of eternity #poe anthem infinitum #fic wip #kana: just admits to himself he has a crush on axa #aloth: does this instead #next up: super fun times at the fantasy psychiatrist's office!#thanks for reading ♡

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lordrethandus · 3 years

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Daily Writing Challenge 2021 Day 30

Ceremony ( @daily-writing-challenge )

World: Final Fantasy 14

Theme: Vox Vulgaris - La Suite Meurtrière

“Vigilance! Diligence! Violence! These are the three pillars that make up the foundation of our order! Of our creed!” Guard Captain Totopeko shouted with a commanding bellow that carried through the great stone keep. The old Lalafell turned on his heel with his gauntlet clutching his ivory and crimson cloak, and he began pacing in the opposite direction until he reached the end of the knights. “When you came to us… you were nothing! No one! Bastards and thieves! Bandits and pirates! Criminals and craven alike! With sharpened steel and hardened resolve you are here today. Lives reshaped for the glory of the Gilded Court!”

Zoronado was not a bastard, but he didn’t know his parents. He was not a thief nor a bandit, such petty monetary gain was beneath him. Nor a pirate, the worst scum Hydaelyn had to offer; he has committed no crimes and has never shown cowardice – not once in all his years. Yet he stood tall and proud beside his brothers-in-arms all the same, eagerly awaiting the good news. Sweat glistened on his brow under the hot sunlight streaking through the painted glass ceiling, with beads rolling down his temples. He had been in uniform since before sunrise, carrying his bulky shield all day; but after a decade and a half of grueling practice and perseverance, his hard work was about to pay off.

“You were all called here for a reason!” Shouted the Guard Captain. “Five of the Bulwark’s finest! Let your deeds from this day forth bear testament to the strength of the Lalafell! Brothers in arms! Brothers in death!”

“AAAOOO! AAAOOO! AAAOOO!” They all shouted in unison, slamming their shields against the floor to fill the keep with their thunderous rhythm. Even Totopeko joined in, smashing his fist against his breastplate. It didn’t take long for their excitement to reach a fever pitch, increasing their tempo with vigorous fervor. They grew so loud and rowdy that they didn’t notice the main entrance swing wide open for the daughter of their sole benefactor. Leleni Leni blinked at how rowdy her men were behaving, but she didn’t seem to mind. Her father, however, would be less than pleased if he heard about this.

“MAIDEN ON DECK!” Totopeko barked at the top of his lungs! Immediately he and the five knights dropped to kneel like they all were kicked in the back of the knee at the same time, and after the echo of their plated knees striking the stone floor made its final bounce against the walls, the keep was as silent as a grave. Leleni nervously cleared her throat as she began to walk, her handmaidens briskly keeping pace while keeping the ends of her gown off the dusty ground. She was suddenly uncomfortable with their presence, despite gazing down at each and every one of them and picking them herself; none of them were wearing their helmets, but at least they were disciplined enough to keep their eyes closed and their heads bowed. It made speaking to them far easier.

“Noble knights…” She started, walking up the steps as slowly and as carefully as she could. “I have chosen each of you to become my fiercest guards. The next generation of defenders who will protect me until your services are no longer needed, like the ones who came before you who protected my mother.” She glanced over at Totopeko and smiled warmly, knowing after they’ve settled in, he would be able to retire, own land, and marry. “You will be my shadow. My shield. My sword. I will not eat, sleep, or travel without you at my side. You will enter every room before me. Taste every dish before me. Drink from every cup before me. And stand between me and every stranger. Every order will be followed without question, for you are now an extension of myself. My mistakes, my misjudgments, my insecurities… you will project them all. Do you understand?”

“Yes milady!” They all answered in unison, harmonizing remarkably well.

“You will defend my honor with your lives. You will protect me from all manner of harm. No matter the threat to your own safeties. My life is paramount. Do you understand?” She asked, standing before them.

“Yes milady!” They repeated.

“This responsibility is a great and terrible burden. You will be in service far longer than your brothers. I will not force this task upon you if you do not wish it. Any or all of you may leave now and return to your posts if you so choose. I will not hold it against you.” This part made Leleni nervous; she’s heard stories of all five chosen knights rising to their feet and leaving. If that happened to her, she would never live that shame down. “Do you understand?”

“Yes milady!” None of the knights moved an inch, putting one of her worst fears to rest; already she felt far more relaxed and comfortable around them. More than that… she felt safe. She approached Guard Captain Totopeko and he lifted his sword in response. Her tiny hand wrapped around the glimmering silver hilt, and with a gentle pull, she freed the blade from its sheath.

Leleni approached the first knight, tapping him on either shoulder. “I name you the Bulwark of Leleni Leni.” The knight grimaced as he trembled, with a tear rolling down his cheek. She smiled before taking a gentle step to the right to stand before the next one. “I name you the Bulwark of Leleni Leni.” His face was still, but his faint smile betrayed his joy. She nodded at him before stepping to the right again. “I name you the Bulwark of Leleni Leni.” This knight almost fell over, his hand quickly shooting up to rub the snot away from his sniffling nose; he was a wreck, starting life as a good-for-nothing thief, now achieving the highest honor he could ever imagine. Leleni beamed at him, with each tap of his shoulder almost dropping the man. Then she stepped in front of Zoronado. He opened his eyes to see her pearl-tipped heels poking out from beneath her gold and ebony dress. “I name you the Bulwark of Leleni Leni.” He felt the tip of the blade tap his shoulderguards one by one. He closed his eyes as tightly as he could to will away the temptation, but he couldn’t resist. Zoronado opened his eyes and glanced upward so he may bear witness to her beauty.

Her hair was the color of honey, flowing locks of a dazzling blonde that draped over her shoulders and cascaded down her body. Her skin was fair – the fairest he had ever seen; with reddening cheeks as soft and round as a baker’s dozen of freshly made wheat buns. He found himself staring deep into her soft green eyes, his jaw wide open like a dead fish, his breath and heart both stopped. Zoronado did the unthinkable; he peeked under his Lady’s hood and saw upon her fair maiden face before her betrothed did. Such an act would put most men in the black cells… but not him. Not this time. Leleni stood there in silence, unsure of what to do or what to say. So they both stared at each other, until Zoronado managed to close his dry mouth and drop his unblinking gaze back to her tiny feet.

The following night was their first mission, but nothing short of the greatest celebration any of them had ever seen. The entire island was out here in force, spilling out of the grand cathedral with camps and tents stretching out as far as the eyes could see. Zoronado stopped counting after two thousand, his focus redoubled to protecting his lady. Clad in thick blue steel and armed with heavy shields and sharpened blades, the Bulwark of Leleni Leni guided the Maiden through the gathering crowds of the common folk to her wedding. Her carriage was showered with flowers and confetti; a blinding cloud to be sure, at least it would have been without their helmets. Slowly they marched, two in front, three behind, until the carriage stopped at the bottom of the cathedral steps.

“Shields up!” Zoronado shouted over the chorus of cheers, and the Bulwark shuffled into a testudo formation at the carriage door. None were allowed to gaze upon her veil until she was at the altar. Leleni Leni stepped down from her cushioned seat, her polished shoes tapped against the cold stone step. She reached out and slipped her fingers into Zoronado’s grasp before being gently pulled into her personal guard. A Bulwark moved to close the gap as soon as she was inside, and the bubble of raised shields slowly moved up, protecting her from every angle and blocking her from sight.

Her uncle was waiting in the lobby. Kukutowi Yamatowi was on the verge of tears when the testudo formation broke like an egg and his niece appeared from behind the lowering shields. “Uncle Towi?” She started, more confused than anything. “What are you doing…? Where is father?”

“He is attending a meeting, my beautiful niece.” Kukutowi answered, bowing gracefully. “But he sent me to walk you down the aisle myself.” His sweet smile faltered when his gaze shot to her entourage. “Make sure no one enters. This day needs to be perfect!”

“Yes sir!” Zoronado turned to his four companions. “You two at the entrance, you two patrolling the hallways. I’ll keep watch from the balc-”

“No.” Leleni smiled at him through her veil; by most accounts she appeared happy, but her twinkling eyes told a different story. “You will walk me down the aisle instead.”

“Yes milady!”

The color drained from Kukutowi’s face. “What?! Preposterous! Your father-!”

“-isn’t here when I need his support the most.” She watched his pale face turn bright red with anger, from the bottom of his neck to the tips of his pointed ears.

“Now see here…!” Her uncle only made it one step forward before her knights turned to face him, with all five gripping the hilts of their swords; one more step closer and he would risk his own life. Kukutowi gulped dryly as he stared at the armored guards, helpless to protest this insult. He was almost tempted to call her bluff, but he wasn’t a gambling man. They were sworn to Leleni – not him; her word overrides all others, and with a single command and a passing thought her bulwark wouldn’t hesitate to spill his blood on her wedding day.

“Go take your seat.” She glanced over at one of her other knights. “See to it that he doesn’t get lost.” Her uncle glared daggers at Zoronado when he removed his helmet and offered the bride his arm. Leleni didn’t even bother acknowledging his continued presence when a knight opened a side door and pushed the mumbling man through. Once he was out of sight and mind Zoronado began the long walk escorting her to her imminent husband. They both closed their eyes when the music swelled. They focused on putting one foot before the other, slowly walking past the audience that lacked both the manners and tact to keep their thoughts to themselves.

Leleni heard their whispers regarding Zoronado. “Who was this person? Where is Lord Diditusho? Why is this lowborn escorting Lady Leleni? Did something happen? Where is her father? Why is one of her knights guiding her?” Furtively the bride glanced over to see if they were affecting him, but his face was as still as stone, and his eyes remained forward and focused. A gentle smile danced along her lips before her gaze returned to the other end of the aisle. The groom, Nonobira Halabira, neither noticed nor cared who was escorting his wife; his beady brown eyes were fixed on the fairest Lalafell he had ever seen. Once they were close enough to touch, Leleni released her soft grip on Zoronado’s arm, and took the last three steps alone to stand by his side. Just as he was commanded, Zoronado knelt alongside the front row of the ceremony, still standing somewhat in the aisle; he remained close, heavily armed, and ready to move in and protect his lady at a moment’s notice. Watching this stranger slowly lift her veil to reveal her face made him feel things he wasn’t prepared for. He was overjoyed, but not content, with pinging spikes of longing and yearning when he listened to her speak her vows.

And when he kissed her and sealed their oaths, and the audience rose to their feet with a roaring cheer and a deafening applause, all Zoronado felt was guilt. Guilt… and envy.

It was all he could think about during the reception. He stood in silent vigil at her side while it felt like every Lalafell in existence approached her dining table to shower her with gifts and praise. He was lucky to have his helmet – the last thing he wanted to do was spoil her big day with the scowl plastered across his face. He’s been to receptions just like this one his entire life; this place was filled to the brim with mutton-munching mooks masquerading as money-making masterminds, but even at his seventeenth summer, he knew better. These ‘aristocrats’ were as real as their compliments. Every single one of them would throw Leleni to the wolves or toss her body into the sea if it benefited them. The Bulwark kept a close eye on each and every one that approached her, and she never opened any of these gifts herself.

It was morning by the time he was able to get some sleep. Even with the sum of his training and discipline, he couldn’t sit still and keep guard over their chambers as they consummated their marriage; every noise he heard whispering through the thin wooden door was enough to drive him insane, so he instead traded places with a knight-kin and spent the night walking through the cathedral until four or five bells later, once he was certain the deed was done and over. Zoronado returned to his post and leaned up against the wall, locked his knees, and did his best to catch at least a few bells of sleep before the sun stirred the newlyweds. He closed his eyes for what felt like the longest blink of his life, before the door gently opened and jerked him awake.

“Zoro…” Leleni whispered, her voice dry and scratchy. “… water.”

“Yes milady.” He answered in a hushed tone, hoping he didn’t wake up her husband. He turned on his heel and briskly walked down the hallway, making a beeline straight to the kitchens of the keep. He found a pitcher of ice water, drank a cupful to ensure it wasn’t poisoned, and was halfway through pouring a second glass when he heard the soft patter of bare feet approaching behind him. Zoronado turned to see his lady staggering towards him, her beautiful blonde hair lazily tied into a ponytail, and her pajamas all twisted and poorly worn. Seeing her out of her normal attire was a definite shock – he almost didn’t recognize normal attire was definitely a shock – he almost didn’t recognize the woman if it weren’t for her green eyes. She still remained far and above the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.

“I have something to ask of you.” Leleni mumbled, shambling toward the pitcher like a zombie. “You heard me right… I said ask of you. And I want you to speak plainly. We can drop the formalities when it’s just us talking.”

“Yes milady.” Zoronado handed her the cup of water and stood by to patiently watch her chug it down; she really was thirsty.

“I want to go to Eorzea. I want to see the sights. I want to know what it’s like on that continent of giants.” She pushed the cup back into his grasp so he could refill it for her. “… but I can’t.”

“One day, milady.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “Why not ask your father to let you go?”

She eyed Zoronado up and down before leaning against the counter. “Uncle told him what happened. Father is furious that I insulted our family by making you walk me down that aisle. He wants you stripped of your rank and thrown into the underbelly cells.”

“I will gladly accept any punishment your father sees fit.” He was quick to speak, causing her to pause mid-gulp. “If imprisonment is the price for my loyalty… so be it.”

“I don’t want that.” Leleni shrugged, chewing on an ice cube. “What I want is for you to go to Eorzea in my stead. Experience everything the mainland has to offer. Keep me informed of anything interesting. Enjoy the freedom and I’ll live vicariously through your exploits.”

“Yes milady.” Zoronado answered without hesitation.

“Really?” The woman raised a brow at him. “No thoughts? No questions? No concerns at all?”

“It’s a quest, milady.” He snapped to attention and delivered a crisp salute. “I will not fail you. Pictures, new recipes, strange animals… I’ll do everything I can to help you see the world, even if it’s not through your own eyes.”

A bright smile flashed across her face, electrifying him with an overwhelming surge of joy and pride. “Thank you Zoronado Tatanado. Thank you for being my champion.”

#dwc2021 #day302021 #{ the halfling hero }

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serararku · 3 years

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Memories and Reveries Pt 2: Bulwark of Leleni Leni

"Vigilance! Diligence! Violence! These are the three pillars that make up the foundation of our order! Of our creed!" Guard Captain Totopeko shouted with a commanding bellow that carried through the great stone keep. The old Lalafell turned on his heel with his gauntlet clutching his ivory and crimson cloak, and he began pacing in the opposite direction until he reached the end of the knights. "When you came to us… you were nothing! No one! Bastards and thieves! Bandits and pirates! Criminals and craven alike! With sharpened steel and hardened resolve you are here today. Lives reshaped for the glory of the Gilded Court!"

Zoronado was not a bastard, but he didn’t know his parents. He was not a thief nor a bandit, such petty monetary gain was beneath him. Nor a pirate, the worst scum Hydaelyn had to offer; he has committed no crimes and has never shown cowardice -- not once in all his years. Yet he stood tall and proud beside his brothers-in-arms all the same, eagerly awaiting the good news. Sweat glistened on his brow under the hot sunlight streaking through the painted glass ceiling, with beads rolling down his temples. He had been in uniform since before sunrise, carrying his bulky shield all day; but after a decade and a half of grueling practice and perseverance, his hard work was about to pay off.

"You were all called here for a reason!" Shouted the Guard Captain. “Five of the Bulwark’s finest! Let your deeds from this day forth bear testament to the strength of the Lalafell! Brothers in arms! Brothers in death!”

“Yes milady!” They all answered in unison, harmonizing remarkably well.

“Yes milady!” They repeated.

Leleni approached the first knight, tapping him on either shoulder. “I name you the Bulwark of Leleni Leni.” The knight grimaced as he trembled, with a tear rolling down his cheek. She smiled before taking a gentle step to the right to stand before the next one. “I name you the Bulwark of Leleni Leni.” His face was still, but his faint smile betrayed his joy. She nodded at him before stepping to the right again. “I name you the Bulwark of Leleni Leni.” This knight almost fell over, his hand quickly shooting up to rub the snot away from his sniffling nose; he was a wreck, starting life as a good-for-nothing thief, now achieving the highest honor he could ever imagine. Leleni beamed at him, with each tap of his shoulder almost dropping him. Then she stepped in front of Zoronado. He opened his eyes to see her pearl-tipped heels poking out from beneath her gold and ebony dress. “I name you the Bulwark of Leleni Leni.” He felt the tip of the blade tap his shoulderguards one by one. He closed his eyes as tightly as he could to will away the temptation, but he couldn’t resist. Zoronado opened his eyes and glanced upward so he may bear witness to her beauty.

Her hair was the color of honey, flowing locks of a dazzling blonde that draped over her shoulders and cascaded down her body. Her skin was fair -- the fairest he had ever seen; with reddening cheeks as soft and round as a baker’s dozen of freshly made wheat buns. He found himself staring deep into her soft green eyes, his jaw wide open like a dead fish, his breath and heart both stopped. Zoronado did the unthinkable; he peeked under his Lady’s hood and saw upon her fair maiden face before her betrothed did. Such an act would put most men in the black cells… but not him. Not this time. Leleni stood there in silence, unsure of what to do or what to say. So they both stared at each other, until Zoronado managed to close his dry mouth and drop his unblinking gaze back to her tiny feet.

"Shields up!" Zoronado shouted over the chorus of cheers, and the Bulwark shuffled into a testudo formation at the carriage door. None were allowed to gaze upon her veil until she was at the altar. Leleni Leni stepped down from her cushioned seat, her polished shoes tapped against the cold stone step. She reached out and slipped her fingers into Zoronado's grasp before being gently pulled into her personal guard. A Bulwark moved to close the gap as soon as she was inside, and the bubble of raised shields slowly moved up, protecting her from every angle and blocking her from sight.

Her uncle was waiting in the lobby. Kukutowi Yamatowi was on the verge of tears when the testudo formation broke like an egg and his niece appeared from behind the lowering shields. "Uncle Towi?" She started, more confused than anything. "What are you doing…? Where is father?"

"He is attending a meeting, my beautiful niece." Kukutowi answered, bowing gracefully. "But he sent me to walk you down the aisle myself." His sweet smile faltered when his gaze shot to her entourage. "Make sure no one enters. This day needs to be perfect!"

"Yes sir!" Zoronado turned to his four companions. "You two at the entrance, you two patrolling the hallways. I'll keep watch from the balc-"

"No." Leleni smiled at him through her veil; by most accounts she appeared happy, but her twinkling eyes told a different story. "You will walk me down the aisle instead."

"Yes milady!"

The color drained from Kukutowi’s face. "What?! Preposterous! Your father-!"

"-isn't here when I need his support the most." She watched his pale face turn bright red with anger, from the bottom of his neck to the tips of his ears.

“Now see here…!” Her uncle only made it one step forward before her knights turned to face him, with all five gripping the hilts of their swords; one more step closer and he would risk his own life. Kukutowi gulped dryly as he stared at the armored guards, helpless to protest this insult. He was almost tempted to call her bluff, but he wasn’t a gambling man. They were sworn to Leleni -- not him; her word overrides all others, and with a single command and a passing thought her bulwark wouldn’t hesitate to spill his blood on her wedding day.

"Go take your seat." She glanced over at one of her other knights. “See to it that he doesn’t get lost.” Her uncle glared daggers at Zoronado when he removed his helmet and offered the bride his arm. Leleni didn't even bother acknowledging his continued presence when a knight opened a side door and pushed the mumbling man through. Once he was out of sight and mind Zoronado began the long walk escorting her to her imminent husband. They both closed their eyes when the music swelled. They focused on putting one foot before the other, slowly walking past the audience that lacked both the manners and tact to keep their thoughts to themselves.

Leleni heard their whispers regarding Zoronado. “Who was this person? Where is Lord Diditusho? Why is this lowborn escorting Lady Leleni? Did something happen? Where is her father? Why is one of her knights guiding her?” Furtively the bride glanced over to see if they were affecting him, but his face was as still as stone, and his eyes remained forward and focused. A gentle smile danced along her lips before her gaze returned to the other end of the aisle. The groom, Nonobira Halabira, neither noticed nor cared who was escorting his wife; his beady brown eyes were fixed on the fairest Lalafell he had ever seen. Once they were close enough to touch, Leleni released her soft grip on Zoronado’s arm, and took the last three steps alone to stand by his side. Just as the he was commanded, Zoronado knelt alongside the front row of the ceremony, still standing somewhat in the aisle; he remained close, heavily armed, and ready to move in and protect his lady at a moment’s notice. Watching this stranger slowly lift her veil to reveal her face made him feel things he wasn’t prepared for. He was overjoyed, but not content, with pinging spikes of longing and yearning when he listened to her speak her vows.

And when he kissed her and sealed their oaths, and the audience rose to their feet with a roaring cheer and a deafening applause, all Zoronado felt was guilt. Guilt… and envy.

It was all he could think about during the reception. He stood in silent vigil at her side while it felt like every Lalafell in existence approached her dining table to shower her with gifts and praise. He was lucky to have his helmet -- the last thing he wanted to do was spoil her big day with the scowl plastered across his face. He’s been to receptions just like this one his entire life; this place was filled to the brim with mutton-munching mooks masquerading as money-making masterminds, but even at his seventeenth summer, he knew better. These ‘aristocrats’ were as real as their compliments. Every single one of them would throw Leleni to the wolves or toss her body into the sea if it benefited them. The Bulwark kept a close eye on each and every one that approached her, and she never opened any of these gifts herself.

“Zoro…” Leleni whispered, her voice dry and scratchy. “... water.”

“Yes milady.” He answered in a hushed tone, hoping he didn’t wake up her husband. He turned on his heel and briskly walked down the hallway, making a beeline straight to the kitchens of the keep. He found a pitcher of ice water, drank a cupful to ensure it wasn't poisoned, and was halfway through pouring a second glass when he heard the soft patter of bare feet approaching behind him. Zoronado turned to see his lady staggering towards him, her beautiful blonde hair lazily tied into a ponytail, and her pajamas all twisted and poorly worn. Seeing her out of her normal attire was a definite shock -- he almost didn't recognize normal attire was definitely a shock -- he almost didn’t recognize the woman if it weren’t for her green eyes. She still remained far and above the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.

“Yes milady.” Zoronado handed her the cup of water and stood by to patiently watch her chug it down; she really was thirsty.

“I want to go to Eorzea. I want to see the sights. I want to know what it’s like on that continent of giants.” She pushed the cup back into his grasp so he could refill it for her. “... but I can’t.”

“One day, milady.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “Why not ask your father to let you go?”

“I will gladly accept any punishment your father sees fit.” He was quick to speak, causing her to pause mid-gulp. “If imprisonment is the price for my loyalty… so be it.”

“Yes milady.” Zoronado answered without hesitation.

“Really?” The woman raised a brow at him. “No thoughts? No questions? No concerns at all?”

A bright smile flashed across her face, electrifying him with an overwhelming surge of joy and pride. “Thank you Zoronado Tatanado. Thank you for being my champion.”

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dionysianmysteriess · 4 years

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Courtly love — was a medieval European literary conception of love that emphasized nobility and chivalry. Medieval literature is filled with examples of knights setting out on adventures and performing various deeds or services for ladies because of their "courtly love". This kind of love is originally a literary fiction created for the entertainment of the nobility, but as time passed, these ideas about love changed and attracted a larger audience. In the high Middle Ages, a "game of love" developed around these ideas as a set of social practices. "Loving nobly" was considered to be an enriching and improving practice. Courtly love began in the ducal and princely courts of Aquitaine, Provence, Champagne, ducal Burgundy and the Norman Kingdom of Sicily[3] at the end of the eleventh century. In essence, courtly love was an experience between erotic desire and spiritual attainment, "a love at once illicit and morally elevating, passionate and disciplined, humiliating and exalting, human and transcendent". The term "courtly love" was first popularized by Gaston Paris and has since come under a wide variety of definitions and uses. Its interpretation, origins and influences continue to be a matter of critical debate. Poets adopted the terminology of feudalism, declaring themselves the vassal of the lady and addressing her as midons (my lord), which had dual benefits: allowing the poet to use a code name (so as to avoid having to reveal the lady's name) and at the same time flattering her by addressing her as his lord. The troubadour's model of the ideal lady was the wife of his employer or lord, a lady of higher status, usually the rich and powerful female head of the castle. When her husband was away on Crusade or elsewhere she dominated the household and cultural affairs; sometimes this was the case even when the husband was at home. The lady was rich and powerful and the poet gave voice to the aspirations of the courtier class, for only those who were noble could engage in courtly love. This new kind of love saw nobility not based on wealth and family history, but on character and actions; such as devotion, piety, gallantry, thus appealing to poorer knights who saw an avenue for advancement. Since at the time some marriages among nobility had little to do with modern perspectives of what constitutes love, courtly love was also a way for nobles to express the love not found in their marriage. "Lovers" in the context of courtly love need not refer to sex, but rather to the act of loving. These "lovers" had short trysts in secret, which escalated mentally, but might not physically. On the other hand, continual references to beds and sleeping in the lover's arms in medieval sources such as the troubador albas and romances such as Chrétien's Lancelot imply at least in some cases a context of actual sexual intercourse. By the late 12th century Andreas Capellanus' highly influential work De amore ("Concerning Love") had codified the rules of courtly love. De amore lists such rules as: "Marriage is no real excuse for not loving." "He who is not jealous cannot love." "No one can be bound by a double love." "When made public love rarely endures." A point of ongoing controversy about courtly love is to what extent it was sexual. All courtly love was erotic to some degree, and not purely platonic—the troubadours speak of the physical beauty of their ladies and the feelings and desires the ladies arouse in them. However, it is unclear what a poet should do: live a life of perpetual desire channeling his energies to higher ends, or physically consummate. Scholars have seen it both ways. Denis de Rougemont said that the troubadours were influenced by Cathar doctrines which rejected the pleasures of the flesh and that they were metaphorically addressing the spirit and soul of their ladies. Rougemont also said that courtly love subscribed to the code of chivalry, and therefore a knight's loyalty was always to his King before his mistress. Edmund Reiss claimed it was also a spiritual love, but a love that had more in common with Christian love, or caritas. On the other hand, scholars such as Mosché Lazar claim it was adulterous sexual love with physical possession of the lady the desired end. Many scholars identify courtly love as the "pure love" described in 1184 by Capellanus in De amore libri tres: It is the pure love which binds together the hearts of two lovers with every feeling of delight. This kind consists in the contemplation of the mind and the affection of the heart; it goes as far as the kiss and the embrace and the modest contact with the nude lover, omitting the final solace, for that is not permitted for those who wish to love purely.... That is called mixed love which gets its effect from every delight of the flesh and culminates in the final act of Venus. Within the corpus of troubadour poems there is a wide range of attitudes, even across the works of individual poets. Some poems are physically sensual, even bawdily imagining nude embraces, while others are highly spiritual and border on the platonic.

#courtly love #history #love #text

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kzsheridan · 5 years

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Character Endings for the students (Super spoilers)

· Byleth fought alongside Edelgard to bring an end to the tyranny of a godlike being. Though he/she was wounded in the battle and lost the power of the progenitor god, he/she remained determined to walk his/her destined path. With his/her legendary blade in hand, he/she will never stop standing against those who slither in the dark until Fódlan at last knows everlasting peace.

· Byleth defeated those who slither in the dark and put down the crazed Immaculate One. In the aftermath of the loss of Fódlan's great leading figures, he/she ascended the throne as the first leader of the United Kingdom of Fódlan. In his/her heart lived the indelible hope that their efforts would one day yield\nan era in which the people knew true peace and the horrors of war were a hazy memory of the past.

· Byleth helped Dimitri to finally crush the ambitions of the Empire. After the war, Rhea stepped down from her role as archbishop, and swore to lead the Church of Seiros in her stead. He/She helped to guide the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus as it brought leadership to the newly unified Fódlan and worked tirelessly to create a peaceful world free from the shackles of oppression.

· Together, Byleth and Claude sent the Fell King Nemesis, a foe from a bygone age, back to the flames of eternity from whence he came. Afterward, Claude left Fódlan, leaving Byleth to ascend the throne as the first leader of the United Kingdom of Fódlan. As he took his schemes and dreams and efforts to a far-off land, he hoped dearly that their joint efforts would one day allow for a world where all of humanity can coexist in peace and harmony, regardless of borders or bloodlines.

· As the new Adrestian emperor, Edelgard dedicated her life to reshaping the delicate political structure of Fódlan. With tireless work and great sacrifice, she reformed the class system to ensure a free and independent society for all. In her later years, she entrusted her life's work\nto a worthy successor before finally vanishing from the public eye.

· After his coronation, Dimitri spent his life reforming and\nruling justly over Fódlan. He focused particularly on\nimproving living situations for orphans and improving\nforeign relations. He was known for listening intently to\nthe voices of all, and for instituting a new form of\ngovernment in which the people were free to be active\nparticipants. He lived for his people and alongside them and was thusly dubbed the Savior King.

· Claude returned to his homeland of Almyra and assumed the role of a politically active prince. After inheriting the throne, he worked to improve relations with Fódlan. In addition to establishing new trade routes, he fostered trust by sending reinforcements into Fódlan to help quell revolts by the remnants of the Imperial loyalists. Under his guidance, the peoples of Fódlan and Almyra were finally able to set aside age-old prejudices, and over time, the fallacies of old were all but forgotten.

· Hubert devoted his life fully to the service of Edelgard. Operating in the light and the shadows alike, he disposed of countless burdens facing his emperor, using any means necessary. Though his ghastly appearance and imposing demeanor were ever feared, he paid his reputation little heed, focusing instead on his loyalty to the emperor.

· After officially becoming the new Duke Aegir, Ferdinand set about reforming his territory. He overcame numerous obstacles to help the lands of Aegir recover. To recognize his contributions during and after the war, the emperor appointed him as the new prime minister. Thereafter, he stayed by Edelgard's side to help the Empire achieve great prosperity.

· Linhardt abandoned his inherited position in favor of a carefree life at Garreg Mach Monastery. There he spent his days at ease, wiling away the hours at the fishing pond or in his private study. After his passing, a treasure trove of documents was unearthed, revealing the key discoveries he had made during his many years of Crest research.

· In recognition of his achievements during the war, Caspar was given the title of Minister of Military Affairs in the new Adrestian Empire. Though his command developed a reputation for occasional recklessness, he proved an able leader, guiding his troops to overcome countless obstacles. Long after his career had ended tall tales of the glory and good cheer that he brought to his army endured.

· After the war, Caspar set out alone on a journey of self-discovery. He traveled to every corner of Fódlan and even ventured abroad now and again. It is said that he got into mischief at every turn but that the victims of his antics, always more amused than harmed or offended, remembered him fondly and passed those stories on to future generations.

· As soon as Bernadetta inherited House Varley from her father, she withdrew from all political discourse and focused solely on the management of her own territory. Because of this and her penchant for spending long periods of time in "hibernation," she became known throughout the house's history as the "Bear of Varley."

· Dorothea returned to the Mittelfrank Opera as soon as the war was over. Thanks to her talent, the company enjoyed a resurgence in popularity that lasted well beyond the end of her own career. Once she gave up her position as a songstress, she settled down to a private life of peace and quiet. It is said that she was very happily married.

· Petra returned to her homeland of Brigid and inherited the throne from her grandfather. As ruler, she declared independence from Fódlan and worked tirelessly to secure friendly relations with both Fódlan and Dagda. Her efforts inspired her descendants to carry the torch she lit, ensuring a future of peace and prosperity for her people.

· As a loyal vassal, Dedue dedicated his life to supporting King Dimitri through his entire reign. After tending to his liege on his deathbed, Dedue resumed his post at Dimitri's grave on the edge of Fhirdiad. There, it is said he stood sentinel over the peaceful realm he had helped build until the end of his days.

· As Duke Fraldarius, Felix worked for years to revitalize and rebuild his territory. He became the king's right-hand man, serving as a trusted adviser on a range of subjects, especially military affairs. Later in his life, he inherited his father's nickname and was known throughout the Kingdom as the Shield of Faerghus's worthy successor.

· Even after the war's end, skirmishes continued to breakout across Fódlan. Bored and restless in his capacity as Duke Fraldarius, Felix abandoned his title, jumping at the opportunity to wield a sword again. Little is known of his whereabouts thereafter, but even many years later, soldiers continued to whisper rumors of a mysterious man able to deal swift death to scores of enemies.

· After the war, Ashe was formally knighted and appointed the new head of House Gaspard, which had no successors. His warm, sincere attitude toward his subjects was praised all over Fódlan, and Ashe was finally recognized as the ideal knight he'd always hoped to be. His deeds live on in countless tales.

· As Margrave Gautier, Sylvain devoted his life to improving relations with the people of the Sreng region. With oration alone, he succeeded in helping to create a new way of life for nobles in which Relics and Crests were no longer viewed as necessary. Though he went down in history as\nan extraordinary lord, it nevertheless became customary to refer to cheaters as "sons of Gautier."

· Mercedes left home and opened a small orphanage in the Faerghus region with her mother. There, she took in and raised children who had lost their families in the war, regardless of their blood or circumstances of birth. It is said that, in the town which grew around this orphanage, the children never failed to smile.

· Mercedes left home and went to Garreg Mach, where she became a model cleric. She devoted the whole of her life to the service of the goddess and became well-loved by the people, who revered her for her piety and her boundless generosity toward those in need.

· Annette returned to her hometown of Fhirdiad where she took up a teaching position at the Royal School of Sorcery. She was a gifted instructor, and many of her students went on to become world-renowned sages. Though her talent for teaching was remarkable in its own right, she was perhaps best remembered for effortlessly securing the trust and respect of her many students, as well as inspiring all who knew her by living a life of kindness, cheer, and humility.

· Ingrid declined to rule House Galatea, choosing instead to serve House Blaiddyd as a knight. After achieving widespread renown, she formed an elite order of Pegasus knights who served as personal bodyguards to the nobility. She never took a husband.

· When Galatea territory was seized, Ingrid argued strongly for the preservation of its borders. Her request was granted, and she was appointed to rule. From her new position, she gave her all to ensure that the people of Galatea lived peaceful lives and put in years of hard work to reform its farming practices. Her efforts bore fruit, to the people's delight, and Galatea became a land of plenty.

· Soon after the war, Lorenz assumed leadership over House Gloucester and helped govern Fódlan as a representative\ of the old Alliance lords. His political talent yielded revolutionary policy changes, many of which were of particular benefit to the commonfolk.

· Raphael returned to his hometown to serve his liege lord as a knight. After years of loyal service, he resigned his duty to devote his attention to the inn that his grandfather and sister had opened during his time away. Eventually he became the inn's proprietor and developed a reputation for astonishingly good cooking.

· After returning home, Ignatz persuaded his family that he should become a painter. He traveled all through Fódlan and beyond, painting beautiful landscapes and captivating portraits of the world's cultures. His unique style set the artistic paradigm for a generation.

· Lysithea returned home to help her parents restore their family land. Years later, when the end to their hard work was finally in sight, she relinquished House Ordelia's claim to nobility, ceding the territory to a nearby lord. Shortly thereafter, she and her family disappeared into obscurity.

· Marianne returned home to a hero's welcome. The people praised her talent and acknowledged her as a savior of Fódlan. Her adoptive father groomed her as his successor, teaching her the power of words over weapons. By the time she claimed her inheritance, she had transformed into\none of Fódlan's most skilled orators.

· After the war, Hilda set politics aside and focused on what she enjoyed most: crafting fashionable accessories. Her designs quickly achieved widespread popularity. With the help of her brother, Hilda then created the first artisan academy in Fódlan, where she served as both professor and headmaster.

· Leonie joined up with the mercenaries formerly led by Jeralt. As his greatest apprentice, she quickly took on a leadership role and eventually even inherited the title of Blade Breaker. She came to be known as Jeralt the Second, as she began to resemble him in all things—including his drinking habits. She left behind many unpaid tavern tabs.

#fire emblem three houses spoilers #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem #fire emblem spoilers

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circe-poetica · 5 years

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Courtly love

Courtly love (Occitan: Fin'amor French: Amour Courtois) was a medieval European literary conception of love that emphasized nobility and chivalry. Medieval literature is filled with examples of knights setting out on adventures and performing various deeds or services for ladies because of their "courtly love". This kind of love is originally a literary fiction created for the entertainment of the nobility, but as time passed, these ideas about love changed and attracted a larger audience. In the high Middle Ages, a "game of love" developed around these ideas as a set of social practices. "Loving nobly" was considered to be an enriching and improving practice.[1][2]

Courtly love began in the ducal and princely courts of Aquitaine, Provence, Champagne, ducal Burgundy and the Norman Kingdom of Sicily[3] at the end of the eleventh century. In essence, courtly love was an experience between erotic desire and spiritual attainment, "a love at once illicit and morally elevating, passionate and disciplined, humiliating and exalting, human and transcendent".[4]

The term "courtly love" was first popularized by Gaston Paris and has since come under a wide variety of definitions and uses. Its interpretation, origins and influences continue to be a matter of critical debate.

Origin of term

While its origin is uncertain, the term amour courtois ("courtly love") was given greater popularity by Gaston Paris[5] in his 1883 article "Études sur les romans de la Table Ronde: Lancelot du Lac, II: Le conte de la charrette", a treatise inspecting Chrétien de Troyes's Lancelot, the Knight of the Cart (1177). Paris said amour courtois was an idolization and ennobling discipline. The lover (idolizer) accepts the independence of his mistress and tries to make himself worthy of her by acting bravely and honorably (nobly) and by doing whatever deeds she might desire, subjecting himself to a series of tests (ordeals) to prove to her his ardor and commitment. Sexual satisfaction, Paris said, may not have been a goal or even end result, but the love was not entirely platonic either, as it was based on sexual attraction.

The term and Paris's definition were soon widely accepted and adopted. In 1936 C. S. Lewis wrote The Allegory of Love further solidifying courtly love as a "love of a highly specialized sort, whose characteristics may be enumerated as Humility, Courtesy, Adultery, and the Religion of Love".[6]

Later, historians such as D. W. Robertson, Jr.,[7] in the 1960s and John C. Moore[8] and E. Talbot Donaldson[9] in the 1970s, were critical of the term as being a modern invention, Donaldson calling it "The Myth of Courtly Love", because it is not supported in medieval texts. Even though the term "courtly love" does appear only in just one extant Provençal poem (as cortez amors in a late 12th-century lyric by Peire d'Alvernhe), it is closely related to the term fin'amor ("fine love") which does appear frequently in Provençal and French, as well as German translated as hohe Minne. In addition, other terms and phrases associated with "courtliness" and "love" are common throughout the Middle Ages. Even though Paris used a term with little support in the contemporaneous literature, it was not a neologism and does usefully describe a particular conception of love and focuses on the courtliness that was at its essence.[5]

Richard Trachsler says that "the concept of courtly literature is linked to the idea of the existence of courtly texts, texts produced and read by men and women sharing some kind of elaborate culture they all have in common".[10] He argues that many of the texts that scholars claim to be courtly also include "uncourtly" texts, and argues that there is no clear way to determine "where courtliness ends and uncourtliness starts" because readers would enjoy texts which were supposed to be entirely courtly without realizing they were also enjoying texts which were uncourtly.[10] This presents a clear problem in the understanding of courtliness.[10]

History

The practice of courtly love developed in the castle life of four regions: Aquitaine, Provence, Champagne and ducal Burgundy, from around the time of the First Crusade (1099). Eleanor of Aquitaine (1124-1204) brought ideals of courtly love from Aquitaine first to the court of France, then to England (she became queen-consort in each of these two realms in succession). Her daughter Marie, Countess of Champagne (1145-1198) brought courtly behavior to the Count of Champagne's court. Courtly love found expression in the lyric poems written by troubadours, such as William IX, Duke of Aquitaine (1071–1126), one of the first troubadour poets.

Poets adopted the terminology of feudalism, declaring themselves the vassal of the lady and addressing her as midons (my lord), which had dual benefits: allowing the poet to use a code name (so as to avoid having to reveal the lady's name) and at the same time flattering her by addressing her as his lord. The troubadour's model of the ideal lady was the wife of his employer or lord, a lady of higher status, usually the rich and powerful female head of the castle. When her husband was away on Crusade or elsewhere she dominated the household and cultural affairs; sometimes this was the case even when the husband was at home. The lady was rich and powerful and the poet gave voice to the aspirations of the courtier class, for only those who were noble could engage in courtly love. This new kind of love saw nobility not based on wealth and family history, but on character and actions; thus appealing to poorer knights who saw an avenue for advancement.

Since at the time some marriages among nobility had little to do with modern perspectives of what constitutes love,[11] courtly love was also a way for nobles to express the love not found in their marriage.[12] "Lovers" in the context of courtly love need not refer to sex, but rather to the act of emotional loving. These "lovers" had short trysts in secret, which escalated mentally, but might not physically.[13] On the other hand, continual references to beds and sleeping in the lover's arms in medieval sources such as the troubador albas and romances such as Chrétien's Lancelot imply at least in some cases a context of actual sexual intercourse.

By the late 12th century Andreas Capellanus' highly influential work De amore ("Concerning Love") had codified the rules of courtly love. De amore lists such rules as:[14]

"Marriage is no real excuse for not loving."

"He who is not jealous cannot love."

"No one can be bound by a double love."

"When made public love rarely endures."

Much of its structure and its sentiments derived from Ovid's Ars amatoria.

[15]Analysis The historic analysis of courtly love varies between different schools of historians. That sort of history which views the early Middle Ages dominated by a prudish and patriarcal theocracy, views courtly love as a "humanist" reaction to the puritanical views of the Catholic Church.[19][20] Scholars who endorse this view value courtly love for its exaltation of femininity as an ennobling, spiritual, and moral force, in contrast to the ironclad chauvinism of the first and second estates.[5] The condemnation of courtly love in the beginning of the 13th century by the church as heretical, is seen by these scholars as the Church's attempt to put down this "sexual rebellion".[5][21]However, other scholars note that courtly love was certainly tied to the Church's effort to civilize the crude Germanic feudal codes in the late 11th century. It has also been suggested that the prevalence of arranged marriages required other outlets for the expression of more personal occurrences of romantic love, and thus it was not in reaction to the prudery or patriarchy of the Church but to the nuptial customs of the era that courtly love arose.[22] In the Germanic cultural world a special form of courtly love can be found, namely Minne.At times, the lady could be a princesse lointaine, a far-away princess, and some tales told of men who had fallen in love with women whom they had never seen, merely on hearing their perfection described, but normally she was not so distant. As the etiquette of courtly love became more complicated, the knight might wear the colors of his lady: where blue or black were sometimes the colors of faithfulness, green could be a sign of unfaithfulness. Salvation, previously found in the hands of the priesthood, now came from the hands of one's lady. In some cases, there were also women troubadours who expressed the same sentiment for men.

#courtly love #amor cortés #middle ages

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blackrose-ffxiv · 5 years

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Attempted Alliance 11/24

"She despises cowardice. And you did surrender, rather than meeting your end like a warrior." Gilbert Viscart looked over his mug towards the other. There was no aggression in his words. It sounded simply like an evaluation of Lebeaux' worth. "Yet you still live", he added as the mug came down. "You still have time to seek to become worthy of Her."

Lebeaux Desrosiers smiled, though he did lower his eyes back down to his glass in an effort to look ‘chastised’. “There is too much to be done in Her glory to die in a snowdrift under the blade of a heretic.” He explained calmly. “She has shown me such during my prayers and the blessing of my blade. When the time comes and I do move again to strike Idristan down and rid Ishgard of his tainted presence, will you support my efforts.”

Gilbert thinks on this: "I'm not going to have you cower behind my shield to do your dirty work for you", the Knight says a bit harshly. "Heretic though he may be, he had the right of it. He won fairly by force of arms. Under the sight of the tower. It would have been an honourable death, if not for the accusations leveled against you." He picks up his mug, then sets it down again with a small sight and continues: "You can't change overnight. It's a long process. You can become a better person if you really want to." He sets his shield and blade down. This was going to be a longer conversation. "What kind of tainted presence do you mean?"

Lebeaux shook his head firmly. “I wouldn’t ask you to fight my battles for me.” He lied pleasantly. “Only to stand as an ally should it come to it. You were gracious enough to help me once, despite my defeat. I would hope to call you a ‘friend’ as I train and pray to return to Her grace.” He explained calmly, though in his opinion he had never fallen from it in the first place. As the phrase he had used was called into question he shifted his smile to appear sad. “You were there, weren’t you supposed to bear witness? You didn’t see it?”

Gilbert nodded slowly. The others' words seemed to make sense. "I saw you both using some strange magicks. Not the sort of thing that one would use in the line", he admitted. "Believe it or not, I am no expert on magicks. But I'm usually pretty good at sniffing out daemons and their ilk. That's why I have been tracking down that family. That's why Ser Agache came to me. He knew I had access."

Lebeaux nodded solemnly. “It was a difficult thing to understand, I’m sure.” He agreed sympathetically. Not bothering to elaborate on why that would be. Instead he took a small sip of whiskey. “ ‘That family’? And how did tracking down a family come to asking you to pull my own personal records.”

Gilbert stiffened some: "Can't talk about it, official business", he said in a clipped tone. "And you haven't answered my question. Tainted in what way?"

The elezen glanced over the edge of his whiskey glass as he took another sip. “You used your official contacts for a private inquiry?”

Gilbert flustered, caught out. "Can't talk about it. Official business", he said. He looked away, quickly draining the rest of his mug.

Lebeaux furrowed dark brows, looking very very concerned all of a sudden. “Gilbert. It is my business as well. It sounds as though you abused the privilege of your position to find information on another Faithful Ishgardian national to hand over sealed records to a bastard-born halfbreed who dabbles in befouled magicks. Halone have mercy on you, what have you done.”

"...." Gilbert looks up then. "I recall you asking me to do just that", he protests. "The only reason you did not get any of that, is you lost."

“Only after you all but admitted to doing this in the first place. Records I very well would have had access to myself if I was still permitted the rights bestowed upon my position during the War.” Lebeaux pointed out calmly. “It is only by Her grace that you do not have the death of a devout on your hands. After you orchestrated it.”

"You don't have access to those records because you are wanted for crimes against the people of Ishgard", Gilbert counters. "I had my doubts about it. You knew that. But you lost to Ser Agache in Trial by Combat. You lost in accordance with the old ways we both hold dear." He huffs: "What do you think would have happened to you had we stood before the highest magistrates and seen this fight?"

Lebeaux tilted his head as though considering it. “Let’s think about this honestly and rationally.” He began slowly. “If we had stood before the Tribunal, as it stood, I suspect it rather would have gone along the lines of never getting started. As a high-born son of a founding House I would have been given the opportunity to publicly repent and likely have my House pay a stiff fine. Possibly some reparations. That is, if I wasn’t praised for my attention to detail and enthusiasm for my work. Ser Agache, should he try to attack me, would have been executed for his dealings with dark arts and the nerve of being a lowborn bastard daring to accuse a highborn.”

Gilbert glares. He saw the truth of it. "Mayhaps", he admits. "Is it those old ways that you miss, then? The corruption? Your own privileged position? If so, it would seem that I misjudged you, Ser."

Lebeaux shook his head slowly. “Not at all.” He corrected calmly. “If some empty words of penance and a slap on the wrist were enough I would have returned to Ishgard long ago. Paid the lip service to the new Republic and found myself a comfortable position in the clergy or a clinic.” He shook his head firmly. “Our city is sick, Gilbert. Rather than bickering between us and allowing that sickness to spread … or helping it to spread…” he noted as looked pointedly down his nose at the blonde. “We must be willing to work together. All of us of the old, True Faith.”

Gilbert looked at the other. "Is that what you truly want? To work together? With a mere lowborn hyur?" He sneered and looked back at the other. "I miss the old faith. The honour of warriors. The fight against evil. But we both know why the Fury punished Ishgard. Don't we?"

Lebeaux relaxed the judgmental look and smiled cordially at the hyur, even as he sneered back at him. “Even if we are of the old faith there is no need to return to all of the old ways. I see no reason that an honest, devout and pure lowborn cannot rise up to glory in Her name.” Actually, he could see several but telling Gilbert that certainly wasn’t going to help his cause. “Why shouldn’t She rise you up to what you have earned.” He nodded solemnly in agreement to Gilbert’s question, but didn’t elaborate. Allowing the hyur to keep talking if he really wished to go into ‘why’.

"That's right", Gilbert agreed. "It's the tainted blood of the nobles. All of you drank of the dragons blood. It's a curse on all the generations. Only those of us who do not descend from the Knights are free of that taint."

“Mind yourself, Gilbert.” Lebeaux corrected coolly. “These are the words of the New Republic that you’re bandying about despite claiming to be adherent to the true faith. Why would the Fury wait until now to punish us for the supposed sins of so long ago. The blame cannot be placed solely on the founding families. All of Ishgard has allowed its Faith to rot. What few believers that remain are charged with the task of saving the entire city and returning it to Her light. Will you have yourself be counted as one of them.”

"Of course I count myself among them", Gilbert said with a huff. "But what has been revealed can not be hidden again. You are highborn, are you not? Do you deny that your ancestors drank the dragon's blood?"

The elezen prickled slightly in return. “It has never been told to me while learning my family’s lineage. There was no mention in such records of our founding Father drinking the blood nor eating the flesh of a wyrm. Should I truly have such a taint in me, wouldn’t I have stooped to drinking dragon’s blood to save myself from defeat.”

Gilbert thought about that. "Mayhaps", he ponders. "But then it's not as if your families' chronicle would document how your women fornicated with dragons and beasts, or how your men experimented with foul blood magicks. And if you are highborn then you do indeed descend from these people. If you think you do not, then you are as lowborn as I am. Which is it?"

Lebeaux set his whiskey glass down firmly. “Bear in mind, Gilbert, that the situation did not take a turn for the worse until the foreigners were allowed into the city. We were not thriving but we held our own against the Horde. Then these outsiders infiltrate with the aid of bastards and byblows and suddenly the City is under onslaught. That cannot be coincidence. Now they would muddy the waters to hide their hand by declaring the Archbishop an abomination and his Heavensward monstrosities.” He spoke quickly and sharply. “As you are a low born and hyuran besides, I understand fully why you would gladly open your mouth wide for these lies. How sweet they must taste sliding down your throat. Not only would they tear down the class separation with this re-writing of our history but they would also account your deeds for naught as you achieved your glory slaying dragons, did you not.”

Gilbert frowns. What Lebeaux was saying made sense. "My status has nothing to do with it", he said, though he wasn't entirely sure of it. "I've seen the corruption in Ishgard. I've seen the plotting and the scheming. I've seen you and Ser Agache do it both, with your fine words. Trying to get an advantage using words and paper. It is very different from the wholesome, simple worship we did in the Real Ishgard." By which he meant, not Ishgard proper. "... if these accusations of yours are true then my liege would be in on it as well. And why would he? He had nothing to gain by this. He heads one of the High Houses!"

Lebeaux extended his hands, settling them palm up on the tabletop. “There is corruption. There always has been. It is a symptom of the sickness but not the cause itself.” His tone had calmed considerably, a far gentler sound now that Gilbert seemed to have undug his heels from his previous stance. “Your liege lord is a clever man. He saw the changing tides, considering it was under his roof that one of the bastards allowed the foreign contagion to fester. Rather than stand against it, he chose to move with it. Should it turn again, you would best believe he would repeat the process in the new direction as well. You notice that he still has his fine house and brimming treasury, despite his cries for change.”

Gilbert sat back and frowned. He was silent for a few moments, thinking of this. "She would not have us win the war. She brought her icy breath over our lands. If the corrupted blood is not the cause of the sickness, then what is?"

Lebeaux exhaled a quiet chuckle. “I would ask you think and pray on it. Perhaps seek the advice of Father Liautroix.” He suggested as he finished the glass and rose to his feet. The remaining whiskey was slid towards Gilbert. “Their answer isn’t an easy one, yet we must look beyond such things as highborn and lowborn. Elezen or hyur. Look to the Faith. It will be meaningless should I just set it in front of you.” He walked past, giving the blonde a pat on the shoulder as he strolled leisurely by to stand on the far side of him. “Then I would be no different than the non-believers shoving their ‘truths’ down your throat.”

Gilbert nods. "I'll seek his advice", he remarks. That seemed like a good idea. Gabineaux would know the answers. He looked to the side when the other raised and patted him on the shoulder, the gesture prompting a faint smile. "Faith will save us", he agreed. "I will pray on your words, Ser."

Lebeaux nodded softly. “And I will pray for you. That She should guide you to the truth. You are a good man, Gilbert. Yet you seem to be easily distracted along the way. Even if you stop to look at the scenery do not stray from the path. Not for the sake of pretty boys that bruise easily. Nor for the chance to take a cheap shot at a highborn whom you envy. I do look forward to hearing from you soon and perhaps sharing another drink. It was certainly enlightening.”

@gilbert-ffxiv

#lebeaux #gilbert #probably not a good thing when lebby starts to sound like he's making sense #poor gilly #he just wants to save princesses and slay dragons

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siraranispleased · 5 years

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Fire Emblem Elibe - New Hidden Characters

Continuing on from the New Characters who joined automatically (or, in Bauker’s case, somewhat telegraphed recruitment requirements), there were also plans for three other characters to be promoted to playable (in the main game), albeit with more challenging or arcane requirements to recruit them. Two of these were for the FE7 side of the story, one of these was for the FE6 side, all of them are late-game units, and ones I wanted to keep the most held back for a surprise, but, since the projects probably not going to actually ever be a thing, anyway, might as well share those plans I had.

Careful, folks, under the cut, this gets pretty long.

Ursula

Recap/Summary: One of the Four Fangs, and technically the first one whose presence is felt. While perhaps the least “sympathetic” of the Fangs, Ursula still had a tragic quality both in the text and the subtext, between a manipulative, no doubt unrequited and exploitative relationship with Sonia, and the understanding that, Jaffar aside, the Fang used to be a noble if anti-heroic organization before Nergal and Sonia corrupted it, and Ursula was already one of the Four Fangs before they joined. Frankly, I just wanted to give her a chance.

Recruitment: Which is ironic to say given what you have to do to recruit her. First, talk to her in Chapter 26...with Nino. If you can somehow get Nino through the fog of war and Bolting, Nino will ask Ursula why they even had to kill Prince Zephiel in the first place...and keep asking her when each answer doesn’t satisfy her, until Ursula’s cool facade cracks and she admits that she doesn’t know, either, and has her own concerns. She doesn’t technically join the party, yet, but this does unlock 26x as well, and Ursula joins Nino and Jaffar in confronting Sonia, to which Sonia shows disappointment and casts Ursula aside. With lingering affection for Sonia holding her back, Ursula still only joins the fight as an allied NPC who otherwise doesn’t move. If she survives the Chapter, she finally joins as a playable character.

Gameplay: If you never recruited or used Priscilla that much, Ursula proves an alternative for your Mounted Magic User needs, especially given her very high Weapon Ranks compared to freshly promoted Priscilla. Her stats might pale a little bit in comparison, but Ursula would prove a very solid end game unit.

Supports: Ursula could support with the following characters: Vaida, Nino, Legault, Priscilla, Sain, Jaffar, Rath, Leila, and Karla. A lot of these supports would touch on a lot of tragic feelings: Ursula would’ve been resentful of Legault for being able to walk away from the Black Fangs despite being a founding member; Ursula would join Nino in mourning Lloyd, Linus, and Brendan; and talks with Rath and Karla would let her know more about Sacae, and of Uhai, another former member of the Fang. Priscilla and Sain would be somewhat of a bright spot, taking Priscilla on as an apprentice of her own without the manipulative relationship Sonia had with her, and Sain would continue to do his thing of helping his female partner forget her worries (she quickly makes it clear that no amount of flirting will actually woo her to him, but she appreciates his jovial company). With Vaida, Ursula is at first bitter to swallow her pride and apologize to her former “rival,” and though Ursula at first mocks her, she takes pity on her in their A Support, and offers for Ursula to ride with her in support of Zephiel, if it’d give her new purpose. In most of her endings, Ursula goes into hiding, living out her days in obscurity, continuing to pursue her knowledge of magic and history. In a paired ending with Nino, she even offers the girl a place to lie low until she can go back for her family after the events of FE6. However, if Ursula pairs with Vaida, she instead joins her as Zephiel’s “shadow,” and shows up with Vaida as an unnamed bonus boss during the fight in Chapter 22 of FE6.

Leila

Recap/Summary: This one was tricky. I mean, I always intended to have Leila become a playable character; she was too cool and had just the perfect potential Serra support not to promote to playable. The quandary was: what about her death in Chapter 18? I was really inclined to just dump it, since you didn’t need more of a reason to despise Ephidel, and the man-pain it brought Matthew and Hector was rote, less-so with Matthew, but, still, could’ve easily been dropped... But there was what it brought to Jaffar. The emotionally void Angel of Death, when he finally starts to become human, is confronted by the lover of one of his victims, repercussions of his deeds come back seeking revenge, and confronting him with the weight of his past. Entirely for what it does with Jaffar, that support works, and thus, Leila’s death works...but it can still work with her recruitment.

Recruitment: At the end of Chapter 27, after defeating Linus or Lloyd, and the last remnants of the Black Fang, Eliwood and co meet with Bramimond, the Enigma, the Legendary Hero who lost their soul and their identity to the Dark. To unlock Leila as a character, you’ll need to have deployed Matthew, Canas, and Pent during Chapter 27, and all three of them must have gotten at least one kill, each. So long as you’ve been using all three of them, there’s more than enough enemies to meet that bar, but the key word is using. Once you meet that requirement, during the meeting with Bramimond, a bonus scene plays out, where Canas and Pent seek to find out just why Apocalypse stole Bramimond’s soul while the other Legendary Weapons didn’t, to which Bramimond reveals that Apocalypse wasn’t the ultimate power of Dark Magic, but Oum. The magic of resurrection, which Bramimond was able to achieve. Hearing this, Hector immediately suggests using it to revive Elbert, but Bramimond explains that those whose Quintessence were drained and stolen could not be brought back. But Leila wasn’t; Matthew steps forward and pleads with Bramimond to bring her back. Bramimond tries, but, without her body present, and without using all their power for fear of their body deteriorating to nothing, Leila is brought back to life on borrowed time, doomed to pass on within a year’s time. Deciding to make the most of it, Leila joins the team to defeat Nergal. This also sets up just how Bramimond was able to completely resurrect Ninian, why that seemed to kill Bramimond, and why Ninian’s human life span was cut so short afterwards.

Gameplay: Like Jaffar, if you’ve been using Matthew and Legault strictly for their utility and not actually putting them in battle, Leila can function as a more combat oriented Assassin, and is, along with Jaffar, the most statistically capable of that class with the Strength, Skill and Speed to back it up. Using the absolutely bonkers stat growths hidden in the FE7 data, Leila would’ve just been insane, “held back” only by her “low” for an Assassin speed of “just” 26. She was, next to Athos, the “treat” character. You jumped those hoops, you have fun.

Supports: Leila would’ve supported with the following characters: Matthew, Hector, Serra, Jaffar, Raven, Guy, Karla, Ursula, and Bauker. Like with Ursula, Leila’s supports would have been on the more sad side of things, albeit presented with a stiff upper lip and attempt to be chipper. Her supports with Matthew, Hector, and especially Serra are her last chance to connect with and bond with her friends and loved ones before she dies for good, although Serra insists that, just because Leila’s on borrowed time, she not actually throw her new life away without fear, otherwise she’d never forgive you and “won’t eulogize your funeral.” With her past as a spy, Leila is able to confront Raven and help bring clarity and understanding as to what happened with his noble house, and impress on and convince Bauker to turn his talents to field intelligence rather than be strictly a soldier. She also gets a chance to forgive Jaffar, or, rather, allow him to make amends and wish him well on his journey of humanity. In her ending, Leila eventually settles down and just enjoys a quiet life before passing away peacefully. In a paired ending with Matthew, they have just enough time to sire a daughter, to carry on Leila’s memory after she’s gone.

Gale

Recap/Summary: The true Third Dragon General of Bern, made official after the death of Narcian, Gale is a noble, if grim, knight, ever true to Bern, whose only crime was committing to Zephiel and Murdock as much as his lover, Melady, committed to Guinevere. Though bearing no true ill will to Roy, Melady, or Zeiss, and indeed encouraging them to remain true to their convictions just as he does to his own. But does he really have to throw his life away for “honour?”

Recruitment: First, talk to him in Chapter 21 with Melady, the one time he shows any sort of hesitation in his conviction. Then, talk to him with Roy, which will prompt Guinevere to take the field and speak with Gale, herself, impressing on Gale just why Melady chose her instead of all of Bern. Realizing that, even though they’ve treated him personally well, Murdock and Zephiel aren’t best for Bern anymore, and wouldn’t have been exclusive in giving a lowly foreign-born like him a chance, Gale leads his squadron off the field, giving you room to breathe. So long as you quickly defeat Murdock afterwards, Gale will join the party at the end of the chapter.

Gameplay: Already a famed Dragon General and master knight, Gale serves as a sort of Physical version of Niime, the Hermit of the Mountain. He’s already got serviceable, boss-worthy stats, and has pretty much hit his ceiling, he doesn’t have much more room to grow after that, maybe a point in Luck or Defense, some complimentary HP bumps on his last two levels.

Supports: Gale would’ve supported with the following characters: Melady, Guinevere, Zeiss, Perceval, and Fae. Able to repair the rift between him and the other two wyvern riders, Gale would’ve been able to atone for his stubbornness and pride, and continue to act as support and guidance for the two promising knights. But the real meat of his supports would’ve been his chance to meet Fae, the divine dragon, and the youth of dragonkind, to see who Zephiel would’ve turned the world over to, and espousing some truth in Zephiel’s ideals, stripped away of all the bitterness and betrayal Zephiel himself went through that muddled and soured his outlook. In his ending, Gale would have voluntarily stepped down from his rank of Dragon General, serving as a humble rank-and-file captain in the standing army under Guinevere, out of respect for his new queen, and his initial opposing affiliation.

#sir aran wants to be a game designer #fire emblem elibe #spoilers

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queen-scribbles · 6 years

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Trope mashups: 14/100 for Taviloth; 52/99 for Ederity

14. Taviloth- Bodyguard AU/100. Accidentally Saving the Day

My gut reaction was to say obviously, nmw, Tavi’s the bodyguard. But then I started thinking about it, and the other way around is great, too. Either way would involved the guard-ee’s family being affluent/powerful enough to afford/need a bodyguard in the first place(so status boost for each of them in turn), so with that established, we have two versions.

VERSION A: Bodyguard!Tavi

In this option, Aloth’s family hires a relatively ethical mercenary to keep an eye on him/protect him while he’s off studying to be a wizard. (Should mention, this version, since his parents are better off, his father’s… slightly less nasty. Maybe still verbally and/or emotionally abusive, but not physically, so no Iselmyr)

The two of them butt heads a little on the way to Hogwarts *cough* wizard school, due to differences in personality and outlook; Tavi’s loud, blunt, brash, outspoken, swears worse than a sailor, and is guarded but usually more optimistic than the opposite, while Aloth is diplomatic, quiet, non-confronttational to a literal fault, has sworn maybe three times in his entire life…. you get the picture, BUT there’s less friction than one might anticipate putting two people who are so different together. Pretty soon, annoyance turns to admiration; Aloth admires Tavi’s forthrightness while she has to admit he really has a way with words. They start getting along better, feelings start to develop, but neither will admit it bc they think there’s no way the feelings are reciprocated. One of them finally caves just before they reach their destination, both are surprised by the realization “Oh, really? You like me too?!” (Tavi maybe jokingly questions his tastes in women :P) and they agree it’s probably best not to broadcast this development. It might make her job harder.

So they act just the right level of detached in public and sneak romantic moments in private. One of said private moments winds up with them hiding in a closet, where they overhear a plot to assassinate a local noble so his kid can claim the title. Given that the plotters are highly trusted members of the noble’s cabinet or advisors(bc aren’t they always? :P), Tavi and Aloth then have to sneak around finding proof before they say anything or they’ll A) get laughed at and not taken seriously or B) be in very big trouble for leveling such an accusation against people who are trusted by one of the school’s biggest supporters. Oh, and all the while they’re still trying to keep their relationship under wraps. Fun times all around :D

VERSION B: Bodyguard!Aloth

In this option, Aloth’s backstory is relatively the same; abusive dad, Iselmyr, wizard school etc etc except school goes smoothly(ish) and he does become an arcane knight. The thayn he winds up serving is friends with Tavi’s parents(yes, she gets to keep her family in this AU), who are still merchants, but significantly more successful/better off this time around. They’re still based in Old Vailia, but they spend a lot of time in Aedyr bc they do a lot of business there. Tavi is still, well, Tavi. She just has to fight harder for the pants vs dresses argument and gets in bigger trouble if her parents catch her swearing. (Yes, they’re aware she’s an adult. She’s “reflecting badly on the family” by not being ladylike) Her parents frequently lament her habits of staying out to all hours, “Slumming it”, and spending large chunks of time in either taverns or the woods.

One day they voice these troubles to their thayn friend, who suggests they simply hire a bodyguard to accompany her on her (mis)adventures and help keep her both safe and in line. They’ve thought about it, but they do have enemies, you know, and aren’t sure who they can trust. He promptly offers the use of an arcane knight who recently came into his service; talented wizard, glowing recommendations yada yada yada. Given their long friendship, they do trust him, so they accept.

Tavi and Aloth’s first meeting is something neither is looking forward to; he’s heard she’s wild, she’s heard he’s stuffy. It goes better than expected; mostly just “So, are you s’pposed to stop me from doin’ crazy shit?” “Only the worst of it, the rest of the time I’m simply to accompany you.” “*grin* Oh, then this is gonna be fun.” She precedes to drag him to every tavern she can think of in hopes of scaring him off.

Not only does this plan not succeed(she gets lots of eye-rolling and does give him a headache or two, but he sticks like glue), he drinks her under the table at one of the taverns and she has to admit she’s actually impressed. (Shit. She didn’t want to like him)

A week or two into this arrangement–which both tolerate but don’t love–Tavi’s parents have to rush back to Old Vailia to deal with some sort of crisis involving a supplier. As they’re leaving, they ask Tavi to ensure a specific set of shipping manifests make it into their vault, bc they may need them for evidence if this crisis goes even more sour. Given that she doesn’t much pay attention to the business(the twins are going to inherit that, so why should she care), she’s not sure which of the documents piled on her father’s desk are the right ones, so she just grabs everything that looks vaguely manifest-ish and locks it in the vault.

The next day, she and Aloth return from whatever she dragged him into to find the house ransacked and the servants all locked in the cellar. From various clues, they piece together that the ransackers were looking for the deeds to the business, which Tavi’s father had brought to Aedyr to ratify adding Malachi and Casius as partial owners. Why they wanted them isn’t clear, but it can’t be anything good. Tavi realizes the deeds must’ve been in with the papers she stowed in the vault, so she and Aloth go to look for them.

Just as Aloth finds the deeds, they hear angry voices upstairs. The ransackers are back, and more serious this time about finding what they’re after. Tavi wants to fight them, both to protect her people and bc to teach them a lesson. Aloth manages to talk her out of it by pointing out they don’t know how many there are, they didn’t hurt the servants last time, and if they’re after the deeds, isn’t it better to get the deeds as far away as possible? She reluctantly agrees and they sneak out instead, then decide the best plan is to try and catch up with her parents, see if they know what’s going on. Of course, since her parents were in a hurry, their ship has already departed for Old Vailia, forcing Tavi and Aloth to book passage of their own.

The rest would involve a couple near-misses with pirates, finding out this is an attempt from an old rival to steal her parents’ business, kidnapped brothers(sorry Cas and Mal), and a really slow burn Taviloth romance that wouldn’t be admitted or acted on until like the last couple chapters and would drive both readers and author to OMG JUST KISS ALREADY YOU F**KIN IDIOTS levels of insanity.

52. Ederity- Marriage of Convenience/99. Magical Accidents

Still would involve Edér holding a position of some authority, Charity’s a friend of his, they get married because He Need a Wife™ and he’s tired of random women throwing themselves at him. Charity’s the one to suggest it, after helping him escape yet another mob of fangirls gold diggers swooning ladies. There are no feelings involved at first; just getting him “off the market”. They act couple-y in public, but in private are just friends. And then, right as they both feel the first flutterings of Actual Feeling™, one of them accidentally drinks a love potion. (Normally a plot device I don’t like, but an exception is being made here) As for which one, I’d probably flip a coin, bc either way would be MARVELOUS. Either way, they figure it out pretty quickly and tell the other one what happened. “So if I start acting lovey and affectionate, it’s ‘cause of that. Totally not that I’m really falling for you. Nope.” And then begins the struggle of either A) waiting it out or B) looking for an antidote while not doing/saying anything one of them will regret once this is over. While, naturally, the one who drank the potion is doubting themself and feeling muddled if their attraction is really real or just from the potion, and what about [X] from before I drank, but that could be nothing…. In the process, of course, someone says something that invites further discussion once the potion mess is over, they talk once both are in full possession of their senses, realize there’s mutual stirrings of affection, and set out on the tricky path of courting while they’re already married.

(These were both great, and now I want to write them, lil bit xD)

From this meme

#queen rambles #trope mashup #taviloth #ederity #otp: third time's the charm #eothasian idiots #i know i'm stretching 'accidentally saves the day' a little #but it's the best i could do :P #yaaaaaaay it's done #/faints

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thebmatt · 3 years

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The Warriors of Light of Hydaelyn-85

Hydaelyn-85, as numbered by the Sentinels, is not terribly different from most other versions of Hydaelyn. It has its own versions of the Source and Shards, its own versions of the Ascians we all know and love who want to rejoin them all back together, and its own Warriors of Light who fight for the salvation of everyone they can. The major world powers are identical to most other versions of the Hydaelyn universer, and no major events have played out differently to chart the star’s history in a different direction.

In fact, if you compared it to Hydaelyn-83, the home of Franks, Rheika, Dahkar, and Fearless, you might even notice a couple of familiar faces.

Today we’re gonna look at the Warriors of Light of this universe, first seen in my FFXIV Write 2021 Day 26 story. Head under the cut for their full details!

Rheika Aliapoh

Unlike her -83 counterpart, this version of Rheika lost her entire family in the Seventh Umbral Calamity. Lost and helpless, she found herself kidnapped by a gang of slavers looking to profit in the wake of the disaster. When the slavers loaded her on their ship bound for La Noscea, however, they found themselves boarded by a small craft crewed by the Upright Thieves, who punished them as dictated by the Code. Rheika, having nowhere else to go, begged their leader to take her on, and Jacke agreed, She’s counted herself among their number ever since.

The salty air has made her dark purple hair a much lighter shade, and her life’s circumstances have made her much harder than her counterpart, quicker to suggest a violent course of action, more reluctant to let people get close to her lest she get hurt again. Ultimately though she just wants to be loved, and once she does decide you can be trusted enough, she is the loyalest friend you’ll ever meet.

Rheika has had a very different upbringing than her “main” universe counterpart, and I wanted that to reflect a bit in her personality. She’s not this universe’s team leader, she’s not really much for leadership at all. She definitely shares a love of travel and a boundless capacity for love, even if it is tempered by her much harsher life. Her deep desire for love but reluctance to trust has actually influenced her sexuality into being demiromantic (from aromantic), and she will eventually find it in the arms of Moenbryda (who survives her encounter with Nabriales in this universe) and Urianger

Rheika will eventually take up the path of Ninja later, and in her travels she’ll also become aware of the Crimson Duelists. Her third job, however, will be Dancer. But how and when will she find this new path? We shall see...

Veilette de Liis

The de Liis family were once a minor noble House of Ishgard, known more for their mercantile deeds than having a great number of knights in their service. Their trade kept commerce in the Holy See strong, and it earned them no small amount of coin. Unfortunately, it didn’t earn them enough influence to escape the ire of House de Dzemael, who engineered a plot that saw the de Liis accused of Heresy. Unable to properly defend themselves, the de Liis had only two options: flee their home or be executed by the Inquisition. They chose the former, leaving behind nearly all of their possessions in the dead of night. They vowed to rebuild and prosper even further than they had in their home.

The family ended up in Ul’dah and set to the task of rebuilding their merchant empire...and they succeeded, becoming so wealthy that their current patriarch, Drauchat de Liis, now holds a seat on the Syndicate. His eldest daughter, Elveone, is every bit the shrewd businessman her father is, and is fully expected to take his place when he decides to retire.

His youngest daughter, Veilette, has different ambitions. She is a seeker of justice, wanting to right the wrongs of the world, beginning with aiding the plight of Ul’dah’s downtrodden and ending with returning to Ishgard, exposing the lies spoken about her family, and restoring their honor. She is stubborn and a fighter, and has trained at the Pugilist’s guild, earning her a small amount of fame as a local adventuring hero.

She’d also really like to know whatever became of her childhood best friend, one whom she’d started to develop something of a crush on before her family’s exile, that lanky son of the de Borels, Aymeric.

Veilette shares the name of another Duskwright Elezen I’ve written about before, as well as a love of punching things, but that’s where the similarities end. This Veilette comes from Ishgard, and if you couldn’t tell, will be the eventual love of her childhood best friend. I can’t wait to one day write his reaction to seeing that the leader of these Warriors of Light he’s heard so much about is not only his long lost friend, but also far more gorgeous than he’s ever remembered. She does start off as a Monk, but will also become drawn to Conjury and the path of the White Mage early on in her career. And like Franks, It won’t be until much later that she also heeds the call of her third combat job, that of Paladin, but under much different circumstances.

Syhrwdya Saztiwilfwyn

Syhrwyda has a lot in common with her -83 counterpart. She looks like her, her parents were shitty to her for a lot of the same reasons, and she’s got just as big and loving of a heart. But while Fearless stowed away on a ship to Limsa, Syhrwyda’s journey to Eorzea started in Ul’dah. There she lived on the streets for months, begging for good, until she was taken in by a captain of the Immortal Flames, Dancing Wolf. Wolf promised she could stay with him as long as she attended school and worked towards making something of herself. Finally having the caring father figure she’d always desired, Syhrwyda excelled academically and soon found herself with an acceptance letter to Ul’dah’s Thaumatugy Guild. The night before she left, she presented Wolf with a document that stated her surname had been legally changed to Saztiwilfwyn, or “daughter of Dancing Wolf”. He wept openly, and to this day is extremely proud to be the father of one of the Warriors of Light.

I love Fearless and I knew I wanted to have a version of her into this universe, and I knew I wanted to give her a much different story AFTER arriving in Eorzea, so I concocted a series of circumstances in which she chose to keep her Sea Wolf name, but also would replace her birth father’s name with that of someone who would actually look after her. Dancing Wolf, from the Summoner 60-70 quest chain, seemed like the perfect fit. This version of Fearless will excel as a Thaumaturge, like her main universe counterpart, but she’ll also be the one to pick up Dark Knight later in Ishgard, and will also become a Reaper later down the line. But what circumstances could lead her down this path, I wonder...

Brorthon kir Solidor

Brorthon is a native of Dalmasca, conscripted by the Garleans. During his initial service, he discovered he had something of a talent for Magitek, and his superiors quickly moved him to an Academy where he could develop the skill. Unfortunately for him, his achievements only increased from there, and he was soon labeled with words like “genius” and “prodigy”. His superiors subjected him to a magitek-induced brainwashing that removed much of the memory of his past, making him believe he’d always been the adopted son of the Solidor family, who lavished their adopted child with everything he might want, in order to increase their own prestige. He rose far in the Garlean military, eventually attaining the rank of Architectus Veteranus within the XIV Legion, entitling him to the kir rank. He would never have known any past other than a son of Garlemald, had he not encountered a Viera conscript named Rael Paharo, who insisted that he was not who he thought he was. Spending time with her slowly returned his memories to him, and the pair plotted to escape the Garlean military alongside a pair of prisoners named Radovan and Sophie.

Unfortunately, they were discovered, and Rael was gunned down during the attempt. Brorthon had no choice but to leave her behind, lest they all die. The trio made it to Gridania, where Radovan taught Brorthon the way of the Gunbreaker as thanks, and he began taking work as an adventurer...work that would eventually have him meet Yda and Papalymo in the forests.

I wanted the fourth member of this crew to be very tied to Garlemald, as I wanted to give him the three high-tech jobs, Gunbreaker, Machinist, and Sage. I ultimately settled on a conscript story, and to give them a stronger tie into the Ivalice alliance raids as well as the events in Bozja and Zadnor, I made him a Dalmascan. Bror (as his friends call him) is extremely traumatized by all of the hells he’s been through, and by the time he begins his adventuring career will have a rough time getting by, preferring to speak as little as possible and only offering objective factual information when he does. Friendship and camaraderie will help him get through some of this, but it may not fully heal until the events of Bozja....because his past will catch up with him there.

#Final Fantasy XIV #alternate universe #Hydealyn-85

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