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#we went on a walk and we thought about Yvaine
misplacedmonster · 3 years
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Beach Day
It’s a wonder they haven’t been down to the coastline yet, but Mali isn’t exactly a fan of sand or the ocean.
It was bright. Sunny. Hot. Perfect.
Mali set up a space for them with towels, a cooler, and a massive umbrella to shade herself while she read a book. “Go have fun,” she told her ghoul.
He came dressed in swim trunks and a t-shirt. There were so many people, enough to send anxiety shooting in his throat, but not enough to stifle his sense of wonder over somewhere new. Between the sound of the waves and the crowd, he could barely hear the bell on his collar jingling as he explored.
The sand was nice, even if it did get everywhere. He liked the heat of it, and how it felt when he waded in the water and the waves pulled the grains from his feet. Yvain spent most of the day wading, actually, never going further than up to his knees. Once his shirt got wet, everyone would be able to see the horrible shape of his body...
Off in the distance, he saw seals. They weren’t like the harbor seals he knew lived around here, no, these were a pure white. “Selkies,” Mali informed him. He’d seen a selfie before. Probably. A red haired woman with a white, furry hoodie she was never without ran the antique shop at the end of the shopping district near their house.
He must’ve watched them for an hour before Mali called him back to eat the sandwiches he made for them.
It was getting late. People were leaving. Yvain walked up to the ocean again, passing by the abandoned sandcastles kids made throughout the day. He’d seen them being made all day, but he never asked anyone about them. Parents aren’t exactly fans of ghouls being near their kids. ‘Next time,’ he thought, ‘Next time I’ll bring a bucket and make one.’
He went into the ocean one more time, past his knees, waist, stomach, until he’s standing on his toes, feeling the vague push and pull of the tide. Cool water soaked through his shirt and trunks into his bones. Yvain smiled. He couldn’t swim, and while he tried floating, that didn’t work either. Still, he came out with a skip in his step. Mali was waiting on the shore with his towel.
“Time to head home, bud. I gotta get ready for work.”
Her friend Dami picked them up in his van. In the light of the car, Mali winced. “...So, we learned a lesson today. Ghouls do in fact need sunscreen. Your freckles are really showing right now, though.”
The next morning, his face, neck, and arms were hot and burning...but it was worth it.
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yvainstales · 3 years
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Of Virtuous and Filial
A sharp, salty scent of sweat hung in the air, clinging to the small chamber like an unwelcome pest. The small bar blocked hole, a pitiful excuse for a window, high above where Yvain sat offered little reprieve. Mere dashes of salty air, on rare occasion when the wind was strong enough. This was an ugly place. Old gray stone it was built from covered in equally ancient stains, as well as lichen which grew from the cracks between the blocks. The only way out was through the iron gate, somewhat rust eaten, which served to keep him inside the small cell. For a cell it was, nothing more. 
One he might feel inclined to break out of, in truth, but with his hands bound in hefty wooden cuffs and the dull throb of pain lingering from the hastily stitched up wounds that shinobi, of all things, had given him, Yvain felt it more prudent to bide his time. With naught but water to quench his thirst these past days, he felt tired and worn. Any forceful action will demand what little energy he has left. From the moment Maelstrom were late to the affair Thya and he were embroiled in, he felt there was something amiss. Even more so now.
He was cast into this cell under suspicion of murder, he was told, even though it was plain to anyone there that Thya and he were the accosted ones, not the other way around. Despite that, he was prepared to let it pass. Inexperience in the guards, and truth be told, finding bodies in the Wards is bound to cause a bit of concern at the very least, but the excuse could not work now that the days have been passing by. The weasel looking lieutenant of the unit seemed all too eager to keep him under lock and key, though to what end, Yvain was not too sure. 
A nearby door scraped loudly against the floor as it opened, prompting the Elezen to raise his gaze, his musings interrupted. A few moments later, he was looking at a vaguely familiar face.
“Ah...” He finally placed the Elezen staring down at him, as well as a few other pieces of the puzzle. “Ser Reginald de Luc. To what do I owe the pleasure?” 
Reginald’s gloved fingers closed around the bars of Yvain’s cell, the man sneering down at him like a victorious conqueror might at a defeated foe. “Abelard. A nobleman turned vagrant adventurer. The man who walks the righteous path. Look at you now... Did you truly think you could just trample upon work of others without a consequence?”
Yvain’s eyes narrowed. Another suspicion confirmed. “The ship my Farstriders raided was yours.”
“Yes. As was the cargo you,” here the word he said seemed to leave a bad taste in his mouth, “Liberated.” 
Yvain kept his silence. The original cargo was crystals, sure enough, which Maelstrom had made a leve for Farstriders to intercept, but the ‘liberated’ one? Girls taken against their will from Shroud. People. Not cargo. The very thought of people being treated thus ignited a flame in Yvain’s heart.
“Not only time you interfered, either. You and yours have interrupted another delivery, in distant Thanalan as well.” Reginald’s features contorted in a wry smile. “Costly, but again, no such thing comes without a price. Once, a man might forgive. Twice... well, my Father suffers no adventurer fools twice.”
“Your father?”
“You should know, Abelard.”
Yvain did know. 
Gerelt de Luc. After saving the girls, he had sent word to his Mother in Ishgard. The name ‘de Luc’ seemed vaguely familiary, back then, so if anyone would know, it would be his parents. 
De Luc family was exiled for crimes of embezzlement, extortion and thievery. Lord Ector Abelard was one of those who ensured justice was brought forth. Perhaps, in a way, the one most responsible for it. It was an old story, and Yvain was but a child when it came to pass. No wonder he did not remember the name immediately.
Not that he wished to speak about it with this man. “Why keep me here, then? My throat is easily slit. I will assume lieutenant Potter would have looked away, for the same coin which made my being kept here possible.”
Reginald’s hands left the bars. There was a hint of regret in his voice. “I would have gone for that. Alas, my brother wanted to teach you a lesson. Keep you apart from your fellows, then show you their bodies. I fear his capacity for rational is limited, but Father allowed it.”
“Judging from all the noise I heard tonight, I assume that went poorly.” Yvain favored the man with a thin, sharp smile. 
“Indeed,” the other Elezen admitted without a pause, “They even got away. Your lot was to be an example, but alas, my brother underestimated their tenacity when he sent his men.” 
“We all do what we can, to help those who cannot help themselves.” 
“I wonder if that worked as an excuse to the stalwart lord Ector?” The question hung in the air, Yvain’s silence greeting it. Reginald’s eyes flashed in the gloom of the hallway. “Did not, did it? Or you would not be the vagrant son. Righteous and virtuous you may be, Abelard, but you are not filial. Not to your family, nor to your country. In eyes of Ishgardians, I think, you will always be the man who abandoned Her, no matter your reasons. Not a lot different than I.”
A poor comparison it was, though the slight did sting a little. Even so, Yvain would not be distracted. “I made my own choice. It was not a crime, but all choices carry their weight.” 
“I was not given a choice, Abelard. It was taken from me, as was our home in Her city.” Reginald regarded Yvain with a flash of old longing in his eyes, “You do what you can to help others. I do what I can to help my family. I am a filial son, no matter what comes to pass.”
“Words alone will not kill me.”
Reginald shook his head, then gestured to another man, who promptly opened the cell. Another stood nearby, with an open dagger lightly pressed against a side of roughed up young man whose hands were bound and mouth gagged. The wide eyes filled with fear told a story of their own. 
“My Father will. Disaster this might have turned into, but he demands some satisfaction. Obey and come without a fight, or this man will die. And when I give word, his family too.”
A flame of indignation flared within Yvain’s soul at the words and the sight, but he did naught but rise to his feet and step out of the cell. When he caught Reginald’s gaze, the man merely smiled. It was a thin, almost wistful smile.
“You walk a bright path. Such a path is always filled with pitfalls.”
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benjimirthursby · 4 years
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Prompt #8 Clamor: "Before and Again." - The Book of Thursby: Scions of Numenor [SB]
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“There are many bits of profound wisdom common to the world.  The first bit is never to get into a land war in Garlemead.  But only slightly less well known is to never wager death when a Twinkinryker is involved!  Let us help you reach your personal injury settlement!” 
 ~From a leaflet found in Ul’Dah “Calamity Insurance and You, Being Financially Prepared for the Next Umbral Calamity!” 
The jaunt to the Company Hall was a different process than that to Limsa the day before.  Aubreen provided Benjimir with a tiny crystal which he palmed before she departed ahead of him.  As instructed, he gripped the crystal and internally focused his thoughts on where it was he wanted to go, void of images as he had not been there.  He augmented his focus with, as his friend instructed, “happy thoughts” and as the memory of the laughter from the previously nights night cap filled his mind, sure as enough he felt himself able to fly.  Again his vision filled with soft light and flares, faded to black and returned.  
Benjimir’s vision resumed from the black interlude with the vivid light of a small, man-sized crystal, then a pathway, which he noticed was blockaded by an assembly of people.  As he felt himself “slide off the bed” to the ground he emerged into the clamor of the mass of people clapping and making assorted cat calls.  The culprits for the welcoming committee were Bondermir and Aubree who gestured to the crowd which Benjimir took stock of.  Captains Riehnheart, Hayes, Vaunter, his brother Tinifalas, Osimira Miegs the master of keepers, alchemy and craft as well as assorted officers previously from “up well assignments.  Friends all, if usually through Benjimir’s usual formality.  Never the less he laughed and smiled and approached his friends.  
Captain Hayes kicked off the friendly ribbing.  “Did he heave too?”  she said.  “No I most certainly did not.” Benjimir said in mock indignation.
Hayes passed a few gil to Rienheart. “Did he drink?”  Vaunter asked skeptically.
“No.  He most certainly didn’t.” Aubreen announced, to which most assembled including the commodore began tossing gil at Vaunter.
Benjimir laughed and pointed at his protege, “I expect a cut out of that Captain, after all, it was my sacrifice.”  
Tinifalas cupped a hand over his mouth and cried “Cough, Chocopoo, cough cough.”
Benjimir whipped a finger at his brother, “Your out of the will.  Now lets be about this show to tell of Miegs’ and have a look around this place.”  All filed into the Hall and up the stairs.  Bondermir paused to speak to a ginger headed young woman with a stroller and taking a box from her tipped his head and gave a pouch of gil to her.  
Benjimir asked his brother as they walked up the stairs. “Something I ought to know?” gesturing with his head back down the stairs where the woman was leaving and Bondermir turning to join them.  Tiniffalas looked back and quickly shook his head.  “Oh, no.  That is miss Yvaine, she is a local baker and shop-keep.  She’s just started offering services here by Captain Tessariel’s leave.”
“I see,” Benjimir said.  “What’s she bake?” he asked as he entered the second floor’s open space of tables, a bar and small stage.
“Find out.” Bondermir said, walking around Benjimir’s left side and pressing the small box into his chest.  “Finest to be had courtesy of the White Tree.” he finished with a smile. “Not near my demonstration however.” Miegs said approaching.  “This way sir.”  She led them to the small stage where a long table was setup.  The table had two seemingly identical setups.  The first had a sliver of crystal in a setting.  Behind the setting was a small miners lamp burning brightly.  The light shown through the crystal and cast a glimmer onto a small board which stood between it and another crystal in an identical setting.  This crystal also gleamed and illuminated the other side of this board.
“This is a simplified version of the experiment sir, but it will suffice to demonstrate what we have found.” Miegs said in her usual precise, measured pace.  “Note the second crystal here, “ she pointed to the crystal without a lamp.  “No obvious source of light.”
Benjimir nodded.  It was an experiment most early academy students were taught  in their youngest years.  Gifts were made of sets to replicate it in home quarters for birthdays.  “Photon Dossimir Translocation.” He said.  Miegs nodded affirmatively.  Benjimir smiled.  “I did learn something of it while I was a student of….” “History.” most all those present said as one.
Benjimir took liberty to glare around himself a moment.  “I feel judged.” he mocked.  “Continue please.”  
Miegs placed another board between the crystal next to the lamp and waved it between the light and setting several times, interrupting the light, then extinguishing the lamp.  The gleam from the first crystal ended with a flicker.  Immediately all eyes were fixed on the second crystal.  Luminous as before.
Miegs continued.  “These shards were taken from the hull of the SNS Aundustar,” she carefully noted it as the Sons of Numenorl Ship which differentiated it from the more recently commissioned Scions Air Ship of the same name. “Each was half a hull length from the other and were lodged by impacts following the fall of Dalamund.”
“We’ve long been unable to determine the cause of a growing number of discontinuities these past five years.  We think this may pose a partial explanation and suggest new questions.”  Miegs concluded.  
“Could the second crystal be in resonance with another?” Bondermir asked.  As he did, the second crystal flickered and went dark, mirroring Miegs’ steps moments before.
“No.”  Miegs said plainly.  “We are continuing to consult with lore keepers down well and are exploring the full meaning and possible applications.  However we cannot offer any conclusions at this time.”
“We’re going to need more crystals.” Benjimir said quietly.
*******
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sapientiiae-a · 3 years
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@fxmiliarity​​ asked: 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 Send 🌟 for a headcanon about our muses’ relationship | accepting
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Mun’s note: I posted this prompt, and Lane went and sent me 22 dang stars! I really don’t think they intended for me to in return write up 22 headcanons (or they didn’t expect that I’d actually do it). But here we are! I told myself I’d just do 10. I didn’t think 22 was possible (at least not in a day). But behold!
Yvaine has served as familiar to the reincarnations of the goddess for many life cycles. In Zelda’s studies, she has read of Yvaine, but I think there is a part of her that believed maybe it was just a legend (or exaggeration) or “But who’s to say this legendary familiar will show up this time.” So I imagine Zelda was very shocked/dumbfounded when she first meets Yvaine.
Side note that counts as its own headcanon, I also imagine Yvaine’s arrival was a very grand thing, even though she likely did not intend it to be such? Yvaine just has this demeanor/aura that she radiates, which honestly probably had some of Zelda’s court members stricken with fear at first and probably even had Zelda going “Wait! She’s real?! And she’s….standing…no not standing….TOWERING over me??” Like Yvaine just seems like the person thats presence demands attention when in the room. You just can’t help but to stop and notice her.
When they do finally meet and start to spend time around one another, Zelda enters this really weird internal battle of not knowing what to say to this legendary familiar that she thought may have been myth but also literally wanting to ask a million questions. Her internal monologue is “What do you say to this being that is wisened? Saged? (yes that’s an Iliza Shlesinger joke) She looks like she could step on me and probably has the experience to do so. But I also want to know about this….and this….oh and we can’t forget that….”
I know we’ve discussed this before, but once the contract is made and Zelda finds out? Not good. She’s going to feel so much guilt about it, and it honestly wouldn’t surprise me if she lashes out at Yvaine at first. She’d be very upset with Yvaine because she knew, but she didn’t warn her or try to stop it from happening. Eventually, she will come to terms with it, but she’s going to be very angry/upset with herself for a while so just….expect Zelda to avoid Yve and not talk to her for a while.
When they get into a relationship, Zelda will probably try to keep it hush hush for a while out of fear of what the court will say. Is it appropriate for a princess to fall for her familiar/body guard? Probably not. Plus, I think there’s a part of her that will want it to be just theirs for a while. She doesn’t want the court to know and meddle. She doesn’t want Impa or Link or the generals to find out and form their thoughts or make comments? She doesn’t want the kingdom of Hyrule to start looking to their queen and her new relationship. She just wants to have time to enjoy their time together for a bit without anyone’s input or interference.
But on the flip side of that, once they get into a relationship, Zelda will absolutely spoil Yvaine. She’s a bit reserved with her feelings, but once she falls she falls hard. She’s incredibly loyal. And she knows she’s lived a better life than most just because she happened to be born into a certain family — so anything she can do to make her love’s life easier/better, she will do it no questions asked. Plus, she’ll always view her partner as an equal, so she’ll think they’re worthy of being treated like a king/queen.
This isn’t really a headcanon. It’s more of just something I want but like....Zelda gets injured during battle or something and can’t walk (sprained ankle, too weak, been stabbed, whatever) and Yvaine just has Zelda get on her back so she can carry her back to camp. Yvaine is pretty much a giant, so just imagine how cute it would be seeing an injured Zelda getting a piggyback ride from Yvaine (and probably begrudgingly getting it at that).
When Yve struggles to fall asleep at night, Zelda will do anything to coax her into coming to lay down. Once she finally succeeds, she’ll just lay there and play with Yvaine’s hair for hours, hoping it’ll help her fall asleep because it always helped Zelda when she was growing up.
I think there are some moments, specifically when her and Yve get closer, that she forgets Yvaine is so much older than her. There are times where she’ll forget and have these thoughts of “You’re just a normal (as normal as can be) person like me.” And then she remembers and is like “Oh wait.....” (Also, remembering probably makes her sad sometimes because it’s the realization of “And you’re stuck going through this same cursed cycle as us....but you don’t even get the gift of forgetting the other lifetimes.”
Not a headcanon but an idea. Split timelines are a thing in Zelda, right? And if there’s any game that involves merging of timelines it’s Hyrule Warriors because we see characters from other games in on place. So....what if Zelda accidentally stumbles into an alternate timeline and finds the Yvaine from that timeline? I don’t know but now I can’t get this idea out of my head.
Zelda can be very stubborn. 100% people (who are close to her) have cracked jokes at her along the lines of “I don’t know who is more fiery and hot-tempered. The dragon or you?”
In the AU we discussed where Zelda can remember all her past lives? The moment she finally unlocks those memories and sees Yvaine for the first time, she immediately breaks down into tears.
This one’s based off another conversation we had: Zelda thinks Yvaine’s cooking is even better than the cook’s at the castle. Their cooking is great, but if given the choice she’d choose whatever Yvaine is making.
Zelda taunts/teases Yve a lot when they’re sparring/training together. I don’t imagine it works well since Yvaine seems like the type to compose herself really well, especially when she knows what the princess is doing. But it doesn’t keep Zelda from trying.
Zelda? Using any excuse to pair up with Yvaine as her second when the army has to split up for different missions? Absolutely.
I have decided that Zelda will 100% start calling her Cassiopeia as a pet name/term of endearment. The explanation I provided for it, which can be found here, is just too perfect for me to not stick with this.
Hyrule Warriors Zelda isn’t as....ritzy as some of her previous incarnations. She’s not as into the lavish balls and stuff, probably because so much of her focus is on Hyrule’s forces and keeping the kingdom safe. But you can bet she uses these events as an opportunity to strut around on Yve’s arm and show her off. Yes, show Yve off, not the other way around.
Zelda knows how to play the lyre, and if you think she hasn’t written a song either about Yvaine or for Yvaine, then you’re definitely wrong. Lullabies are a big thing to Zelda, and Yvaine has trouble sleeping, so Zelda has definitely come up with a lullaby on her lyre to play for Yvaine.
I imagine that if Zelda is ever feeling down in regards to her powers (not feeling strong or having issues with her light magic), Yvaine tries to encourage Zelda by talking about Hylia, focusing on how amazing and strong Hylia was and reminding Zelda that she is the goddess reincarnate.
They’re a war couple. They go marching off to battle often, and while Zelda is used to that, it’s still a bit nerve-wracking to think the people she loves are going into a fight that could be life or death for them (even though Yve can’t truly die). But I imagine after the first incident that prompts Zelda to finally confess her feelings, she eventually has a special amulet made (probably something fused with light magic) that she gives to Yvaine as a sort of protection charm to keep her safe. Just something to give Zelda some extra peace of mind.
Once Zelda finds out what Yve’s favorite color is, she tries to find ways to incorporate it into her clothing more (because there’s just something super appealing about seeing your significant other wearing your favorite color). This is actually super easy for Zelda to subtly get away with since the color plum goes so well with her royal attire anyway.
I need to think through this idea and flesh it out more, but I imagine sometime after the events of Hyrule Warriors, Zelda is presented a new rapier that has ‘dragon’ somewhere in the name and was inspired by Yvaine, being that she’s a dragon familiar.
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Writing Prompt #3: Lost
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A visit to the sea was always a good time for the family. Yvaine was wading slowly into the water while her mother, Emmaline, watched over Ewan happily playing with a new toy in the more kid friendly area. The last days of summer and this was how they were being spent. In Yvaine's mind this was a good idea plus the place they got to rent for their vacation was big enough for their family while providing privacy. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Renias's voice as he joked about the water being too cold. In response Yvaine splashed him while laughing. It was a childish game but neither of them cared as they laughed and kept splashing water at each other. 
Ewan started to clap before he noticed his toy boat was drifting away. He waddled after it but he wasn't fast enough which led to the crying. Emma had to grab him and Yvaine hurried over to see what was wrong, "Why are you crying?" She picked him up and made sure no sand was near his face then watched as he kept crying. His hands were reaching for the direction of the toy boat, rocking away on the waves. They turned to look before spotting the toy. "Twelve help us...Ren? Can you get to it ir shall I?"
It was the perfect moment for a father to shine and off he went after the boat. Ewan wailed away despite the goofy looks Renias gave to cheer his son up. Yvaine looked at him, "Be careful." He smiled then told her of course before going into the water again to swim after the toy boat. The family watched from the shore hoping all would be well. It seemed like everything was going smoothly but there was a struggle, thrashing around and then Renias disappeared beneath the waves. Yvaine cried out his name while cradling Ewan who cried even louder, scared and not understanding what was happening. Her mother took Ewan and quickly she moved to the water only to spot Renias starting to come back looking just fine, toy boat in hand.
When their eyes met he smiled but Yvaine was furious. She went off over how horrible that was to do to then and how it upset everyone. Her hand moved over her heart recalling how he was afraid of water before they came here to work on his fear. Every word uttered told him how upset she was at his joke and he simply pulled her to him to hug her then kissed her forehead like had done many times before. Yvaine knew he was apologizing and hugged him tightly. The thought of losing him stung even if it was a joke. When they let go they walked over to Ewan still crying but once he saw his toy he stopped. His big blue eyes looked at the toy then to his father. The sheer joy on his face said it all. His father was a hero for getting his toy back though the idea of a hero was lost on a toddler. Ewan was passed to his father carefully after wiping away tears and a runny nose.
"You should play with your son in the Shallow waters over in that cove later. For now we should all go in our rented tent and rest. Too much excitement for this old lass." Emmaline smiled at her family then led the way.
Yvaine knew her mother was right and slipped her hand to Renias's while he held Ewan. The small family followed close behind without a word. They were simply grateful for those small moments where something nearly lost was found again.
@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast
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duchessofaquitaine · 5 years
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Chapter 4.3
"Sir Gaius, Lucius, Yvainne and Cassius, could you stay for a while, please?", said Arthur. They were about to resumed their seats beside Arthur when Lancelot said:
" Lady Yvainne, may I talk to you for a moment?"
" Yes, of course.", she then moved to Lancelot's side and they walked to a corner of the room, while Arthur,Lucius,Cassius and Gaius talked.
" I'm sorry for the way I reacted earlier, milady."
" There's no need to apologize, Sir Lancelot. I understand why you did so. I too, would be angry if someone were to simply come to my country, unexpectedly, and to top it all, being followed by an army. Which I don't doubt, is very much possible. My uncle won't rest until he's done with me. With all of us. But I won't surrender."
Lancelot stared at the woman before him. He regretted so much what he said earlier. Specially now, seeing how much this lady had suffered. He smirked at her and said:
" How about we forget what I said and start this over again?"
" I'd like that. I think, Sir Lancelot, that this, is the beginning of good friendship.", she answered and smiled.
" I do so too, milady.". After that, they returned to the round table and faced questioning looks. Yvainne looked at them and said:
" Sir Lancelot apologized for earlier and he and I have just become friends.". Arthur laughed and hugged Lancelot by his shoulder.
" Well done, my friend. But mark my words, this one is a handful… - gaining an amused look from Yvainne when he said that - … but also, a true and loyal friend." Lancelot looked at Arthur and said:
" Thank you, Arthur. Well, I believe I'm going to bed. Good night to you all."
" Good night, Sir Lancelot" they answered.
After Lancelot left, Arthur mentioned for all of them to sit down and said:
" Lucius, Yvainne, Cassius, I'm truly sorry for all you've been through. I knew something bad must have happened to you that made you come here all of sudden."
" Thank you, brother. We really appreciate it.", said Cassius, putting a hand on Arthur's shoulder, who nodded.
" Sir Gaius, I wanted to thank you for everything you've done for them. For Cassius told me great things about you during dinner."
" Thank you, Your Majesty. I'll do everything I can and more for this family. For I consider them my own.", said Gaius and Yvaine went to his side and took his hand in hers.
" And we consider you ours, uncle Gaius. You may not be my blood but you're certainly my family."
" Thank you, sweet Yvainne. You know how much you all mean to me."
" Ah Gaius, you big softy!",said Cassius hugging the man, who laughed at him.
" Well, if I'm no longer needed, I think I shall go to my quarters. Good night to you all"
" Good night, Gaius. We'll see you in the morning.", and he left the room, there remained only Arthur and the Aquila family. Arthur looked at them and said:
" After all I heard, I think we shall prepared for an eminent battle as soon as possible."
" I agree, Arthur. But let your knights take in the idea of another battle first. It will take at least another week before Tiernan gathers all his men and comes to Britain. I'm sure of that.", said Lucius
" Father is right, Arthur. Though I'm always up for training. I think the sooner we prepare, the better. What say you, little sis?", said Cassius.
" Well, I believe in being prepared. And as you brother, I'm always up for some practice. How about some archery tomorrow?", said Yvainne.
" Absolutely! I can't wait to beat you!", said Cassius
" Ha! In your dreams, brother dearest !", replied Yvainne. She then turned to Arthur who was looking quizzically at her,which made her father chuckle.
" What?", she said
" Nothing, it's just that you surprised me. I though you'd prefer to stay away from fights and battles.", said Arthur, earning him a laughter from Lucius and a chuckle from Yvainne, who answered:
" Do you think that with a brother like mine, I'd have stayed away from any of it? Cassius taught me how to fight, much to father's dismay."
" You're my little girl. I just didn't want to see you hurt.", said Lucius and Yvainne hugged her father. Arthur looked at them and imagined if Eleanor and him would be the same in the years to come.
Cassius interrupted his train of thought when he said:
" I believe we've had enough excitement for one day. It's time to rest. Thank you again, Arthur. For everything. Are you coming father?", he said from the door.
" Oh yes. This old man needs to sleep. Arthur, would you mind escorting Yvainne back to her quarters? It's very late and I fear she'll might get lost again.", said Lucius, letting out a small chuckle. Lucius, Yvaine and Arthur got out of the hall and closed the door.
" Not at all.", said Arthur.
" Well then, we shall go. Come along, Cassius. Good night, my dear - and he gave Yvaine a kiss on her forehead - good night, Arthur"
" Good night sis, Arthur." said Cassius.
" Good night", replied Arthur and Yvaine
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keeperprinceling · 6 years
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Kindling
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Seven Hells.
His hands shook, the book of arcana that had been so solid and within his command during the fight suddenly heavy as the thinking, reasoning part of his mind caught up with the rest of it - the part that just judged and reacted accordingly. The part that enfeebled and reinforced, the part that directed the carbuncle. The part that just fought off...
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Seven Hells.
He should have been terrified. He was terrified now. It was good that he hadn't been then, right? He closed the book so as not to drop it and attached it to it's holster on his belt, fumbling a little with the belts as he kept careful attention to his breathing. Seven. Hells.
Well, his old teacher ought to be proud, that was for damn sure. Khit'li Mewrilah, calm under pressure. Calm and badass. He just faced down a primal. A bleeding primal. He knew following Yvaine around could get him into trouble even as he tried to keep that questionable Keeper out of it, but this? And he had thought abandoned mines, creepy crypts and pirates had been bad. What was she, some kind of magnet for dangerous situations?! But there they were, alive, and not really worse for wear. Creepy though, how quickly the others had bent to the Primal’s will so easily. He didn’t really get why he hadn’t, but he was relieved regardless.
The one Hyur - Thancred, or whomever - finished speaking with the teal-haired troublemaker, having he himself been noticeably absent from the fight against Ifrit, Lord of the Twelves-damned Inferno, which hadn't been in that plan they had agreed upon, but he seemed to know what he was doing in this aftermath at least. The white-haired man walked away and Khit’li took the opportunity to wander over to Yvaine, still somewhat incredulous of what they had just done and wanting to -- well not gush but the totally manlier version of gush about how they had just killed a primal.
Crossing his arms so she wouldn't see their residual shaking, he didn't know whether to tease her, congratulate her, or admonish her, so... a mix it was. "Not that I'm not psyched we're still alive or anything, but -" he broke off, unable to continue when he saw the look on her face. The resilient glare that had been there the whole fight was gone - now she looked... frightened. Just - scared and isolated and alone, wide green eyes looking up at him like she was waiting for him to drop off another confusing mess at her feet - that or announce he was leaving or something. It threw him off entirely - Yvaine wasn’t - he hadn’t figured her to be --
Awkwardly his arms fell to his sides, unsure of what really to do to comfort her. "Hey," he called quietly and when her ears drooped in response it was like his entire over-the-moon feeling went with it. She had dealt the final blow - she was responsible for saving everyone here, probably him included. There had been something in the fight - he couldn’t put his finger on it, but he just knew if it hadn’t been for her they would’ve been done for, and yet she didn’t look happy or proud at all about it. She just looked scared. More scared than he’d seen anyone look in a long time. If it were him, he’d want... but they weren’t entirely that close - it’d be weird. They were travelling companions - she was like a pet or something. A mischievous pet, and he knew he could be a pain and bossy and annoying besides; she wouldn’t want... but they had been though a lot together, and of everyone here...
He hesitated for only a moment longer, weighing out the action against norms before tossing the norms, stepping in, and lightly hugging her, giving her every opportunity to step back or wave him off, internally coming up with how he’d cover if she did --
But she didn’t push back. 
She had tensed at first, but then she just.. melted into him for a moment, her face leaning against his chest, the crown of her head tucked just beneath the level of his chin. He adjusted his arms to hold her just a little more firmly, letting her know that that was alright for her to do so, and waited, breathing evenly. It had looked like she had had another one of those headaches - maybe it was still bothering her. They’d probably be heading back to that Scions place in Western Thanalan; hopefully they could tell her how to relieve the pain of it. 
After a few moments, his hands didn’t feel like shaking anymore. The adrenaline finally calmed down. As he breathed he watched the hills for any sign of movement, musing that... well, she was like a mischievous pet - someone he had to watch out for else risk her hurting herself - or the reputation of Keepers everywhere - but maybe...
She tensed and straightened, he let her go, looking away so she wouldn’t be embarrassed. ... Or he wouldn’t be embarrassed? So someone wouldn’t be embarrassed anyway. “Enough excitement for you, then?” he half-teased, looking after where Thancred had gone, his hand easily resting on his hip. “Ready to call it quits and head back to Gridania?”
“No,” she replied, crossing her arms as she glanced northeast. “You?” she asked, the question sounding almost tense.
She had looked to the South Shroud; he was so close to home now, but he was definitely nowhere closer to his goals than when they had set out a few weeks ago. He sighed exaggeratedly, “Nah, I better not. If I left you alone now there’s no telling what would happen. I mean besides you getting lost in this Twelve-forsaken desert - there’s no question there.”
He grinned playfully as he heard her long-suffering sigh, but she didn’t refute him. She couldn’t - not with her inability to read a map. “We’d better get back to Camp Drybone then,” she said and started off.
“Wrong way,” he called out helpfully after her.
She stopped and looked back at him with an unhappy pout, planting her hands on her hips as she waited for him to take the lead.
He paused as he caught up to her, smiling slyly as he leaned in. “Just kidding,” he said and danced out of her way before she could retaliate, getting a few strides ahead of her as she stomped her foot. 
“Khit’li!”
He slowed, casually lacing his hands behind his head and grinning, eyes closing as he called back, “You coming or what?” He heard her growl lightly before starting after him; he continued at a leisurely pace, his breath catching once before, unable to help himself, he added, “Last one there has to fight Ifrit.”
“Khit’li.” She caught up to him and he could practically hear her eyeroll.
“Wait, no worries, he’s already dead.”
“Khit’li.”
His grin spread, something like contentedness sweeping over him. She was glad he stayed - he could tell. And he was glad that... well, that she was glad. Maybe she was like a mischievous pet, but maybe... 
Maybe she was also his friend. 
@yvainearadia i just randomly imagined their first hug last night and ??? why not after ifrit battle when the whole warrior of light thing finally rears its head with an oblivious khit’li who has no idea but offers a hug anyway and is surprised at her taking it and surprised that he actually offered it and completely at a loss for what to do once the hug was actually going on and then this happened, the end.
LISTEN I KNOW WE HAVE TWO THREADS THAT YOU’RE WAITING FOR ME ON I’M SO SORRY T_T
also that bunny suit one i mean what
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trulycertain · 7 years
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The Scraps/Fic Amnesty Post
So, does anyone want a very, very silly Gal/Dorian + Yvaine/Cullen modern AU I will probably never post properly, which was the result of someone daring me to write fic to sappy pop? Because, uh... apparently I did one at some point last year, according to my docs. And have just dug it up. No stakes, no plot, just pukeworthy fluff, to see if i could do it. Oh, and pints.
thinking out loud
Dorian watches Yvaine and Cullen, and he’ll admit it: he’s glad he came, even if he’s never particularly been one for weddings. It might be the fact they have decent wine - down to Yvaine, no doubt - or it might be seeing his closest friends glowingly happy and swaying around the dance floor. They’re good together, and as they beam at each other, dressed to the nines and clearly, disgustingly in love, he finds himself smiling in response.
He’s not the only one. He looks around the room, and his eyes alight on a tall, broad-shouldered figure leaning against the bar a few feet away. A friend of Yvaine’s, he thinks, though he’s not certain; she’d greeted the man with a clap to the shoulder and a hug, and they’d spent some time talking, making each other laugh. His eyes had briefly met Dorian’s, with some curiosity, but then he’d left to prepare something or other. Probably to do with the buffet. 
Now the man watches the happy couple, a pint by his elbow. Though he has an interesting look to him in general - sometime in all this, the jacket has come off and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, exposing strong, heavily tattooed forearms - it’s the soft smile on his face that makes Dorian pause. It’s a little wistful and… rather sweet, actually. There might even be dimples.
Another track starts up, some sort of syrupy slow ballad, and several couples take to the floor. Several have had their courage aided by a few drinks, and he wants to laugh at some of the distinctly wobbly gaits they’re sporting. He’s not as surprised as he should be when he spots Sera and Dagna.
He doesn’t know why. It might be that it’s been too long since he went to a decent party and the festive atmosphere is infectious, or it might be that there are now enough people on the floor that he can be unobtrusive, or it might simply be that he’s missed dancing. Whatever it is, he finds himself quietly navigating through the groups who’ve been avoiding the dancefloor until he’s standing in front of the stranger, who looks at him in surprise.
He says airily, as if he does this all the time, “Fancy a dance?”
Mr. Tall, Pale And Awkward hesitates, glancing at his own feet uncertainly, and then that smile returns. Yes, there are definitely dimples. “Why not?” he says, much to Dorian’s surprise.
They take to the floor, managing to find some decent space, and he takes his new acquaintance’s hand, pulling him into what’s more of a glorified walk than a dance. Best to start simple. He finds himself leading, to no apparent protest from his partner.
The man says, looking distinctly sheepish, “I’m not much of a dancer.”
It explains the hesitation, at least. “Oh, I don’t know. I find myself pleasantly surprised.”
A low, surprised laugh. “I… might have had a few lessons for this.” He gives Dorian that look of bright, blue-eyed curiosity again. “I liked your speech.”
“It got a laugh or two out of you,” Dorian responds, wondering why he noticed. Wondering even more why he’s admitting it.
“It sounded like you care a lot about Yvaine.”
“She’s a good friend. My best friend,” he admits quietly. He decides to change the subject before he gets too sentimental. “I notice you didn’t say something.”
His companion glances away. Dorian does his best not to pay undue attention to long eyelashes and dark stubble, and the hint of more than one tattoo that unbuttoned collar can���t quite hide. “I’m not much good at speeches, either.”
Dorian raises an eyebrow. “I take it there is something you’re good at?”
A half-smile, one with a little roguishness in it. “A few things.” It’s brief enough to be a trick of the light, but he gives Dorian a look that could almost be… interested.
What is it they say about weddings being the ideal place to “go on the pull”? (Well, more like Sera had slurred it into his ear, but the point still applies.) Dorian had forgotten about it, but all at once it’s at the forefront of his mind. “Intriguing, but not an answer,” he responds, a smile creeping onto his own face and warmth rising in his chest. He’s suddenly too aware of how close they are, of the hand on his waist. To distract himself, he tries, “Forgive me, but I don’t recall…”
It seems no offence is taken. The answer comes quietly, with an amused head-tilt. “Gal. And you’re Dorian.”
The name rings a bell, but he doesn’t stop to consider it. “I see my reputation precedes me.”
“Yvaine talks about you.”
Ah. Dorian prods with a wolfish grin, “All good things, I hope?”
Still seeming far too amused, Gal responds, “I think the words were ‘obnoxiously well-dressed.’ And she said you made her laugh. I just didn’t expect…” Gal’s mouth clicks shut, his smile falling away, and he looks aside.
Dorian prompts him with, “You didn’t expect…?”
Gal’s eyes meet Dorian’s, and his response is barely audible underneath the music. “She didn’t mention you were handsome.”
Dorian tries not to look too surprised, or conspicuously smug. He just says, “I can’t think how she could have forgotten.” He eases Gal into a gentle sort of turn, then reels him back in. “Are you sure we haven’t met? You look familiar.”
Gal laughs, a rough, quiet, knee-shivering thing. “I’d have remembered you.”
Yvaine looks beautiful, and… more than a little distracted. Cullen turns them, watching carefully, and yes, she’s looking over his shoulder. “What is it?” he says quietly. He wonders if some new crisis has broken out, but she seems more bemused than perturbed.
She looks at him. “Tell me if I’m wrong, but are my best friend and my brother slow-dancing?”
It’s his turn to look past her. “They are,” he says. He sounds more worried than he probably should.
Another turn, and she squints over his shoulder. She raises an eyebrow. “Do you think they know?”
“Know what?” he asks, though he has a suspicion. It might be the unnecessary closeness, or the bashful grin on Gal’s face.
Either way, Yvaine voices his thought. “That give it five minutes and it’ll look like we’re crashing their wedding.” She cranes her neck to look, seeming a little incredulous, and as if she’s trying not to laugh. “I’m not sure whether to be admiring or terrified.”
He sighs. “Those two? The latter.”
He wonders why he’s quite so comfortable holding a man he barely knows. He’s too aware of the way Gal’s hand seems to linger on his back, of how often their eyes meet. He can’t seem to look away from that steady blue gaze. There’s something soothing about it, the gentleness of the song and the steady presence of the man with him, even if his heart rate may be threatening to triple. A rightness to it.
“So why are you here, exactly?” he manages, his throat oddly dry.
That quiet laugh again. “I’m Yvaine’s brother.”
“…Ah.” She’d mentioned family, a brother and a sister, but he hadn’t thought… Galahad, he remembers distantly. He squints. “Should’ve recognised the dimples.” This is all a very, very bad idea. He has no desire to be murdered by his best friend. Even if her brother is… well, like this.
Gal grins, showing off the aforementioned feature to fullest effect, ducking his head bashfully and then using the opportunity to check his footing. A practical man. “There’s not much of a resemblance.”
Dorian feels that warm hand press gently where it rests on his back. He wonders whether Gal is even aware of it, but he takes the hint and shifts closer. “I can see it, now I’ve been told. There are a few similarities. Well, you’re rather more... strapping, obviously.”
Gal looks up in surprise, and then a smile creeps onto his face - and yes, this time he definitely gives Dorian a once-over. “I could say the same.” He tilts his head and says, “Think this is the outro.”
It takes Dorian a second or two - strange, his mind isn’t usually this slow - and then he darts a glance towards the speakers. “Already?”
Gal says softly, “It’s… been good meeting you.”
Dorian looks for something witty, but the truth falls out instead. “It’s been good meeting you, too.”
And somehow, he realises that there’s barely any distance at all between them. He can feel how warm Gal is, can almost feel Gal’s breath on his face. It would be nothing at all to close the gap. He swallows, and Gal’s eyes catch the movement before lingering on his mouth. Gal leans closer, and Dorian finds himself doing the same -
The song ends abruptly.
Gal blinks as if waking from a dream, stepping back. (Those warm hands slip away, and Dorian finds he misses them.) The reticence of before has returned, and Gal has the look of a man talking himself out of a good thing. He glances at Dorian, then looks at the the ground, seeming to regret his boldness, and says, “I should…” He gestures to somewhere that’s probably a good way from here, where there will be no more dances and certainly not the fulfillment of that odd half-promise on the dancefloor.
Dorian says, as casually as he can, “Or you could buy me a drink.”
That flattered surprise crosses Gal’s face again. “Or… yes. I’d like that.”
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arielbuttercup · 6 years
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It’s been a while since I wrote to you. Well I had a busy summer and in a way needed some time to adjust.
So let’s begin at the start of my summer. In the last week of July I moved house. It was a hard week. I lost track of the times I drove to the new house with a loaded car. All while I was dog sitting little Kurt. I was lucky that everything did fit in my giant as fuck van, the biggest that I could drive myself. It was exhausting but by the last Thursday in July I had all my stuff in the new house and left the old house as I thought behind. The days towards the move I cleaned and scrubbed the old house like a crazy person, when I wasn’t loading my car or unloading it in the new house I was scrubbing. Well… I thought it is nice and clean, some parts I purposely did not clean because I did not want to hide the intense mould in the attachment. In the end it was not clean enough in the landlord’s eyes. They complained about not dusted behind and in between radiators, under the fridge and even the huge piles of garden waste that I would have paid a lot of money to get it taken away and also some other places that weren’t clean we moved in. It was ridiculous and we could have fought getting more of the deposit back but in the end I just wanted to have a clean cut and not having to deal with them any more. The weeks towards the moving out date there were a few viewing but what surprised me the most was to find out how much the landlord put up the rent of the house, I am still not sure if it was worth that much more money. I did see that it has been taken off the market, I am curious to find out if it is rented out again. I might have a drive by next time I am in town.
Once I moved all my crap into the new house I tackled the unpacking straight away. My new mattress nearly killed my friend Sarah, I think it was the exhaustion that even made us even laugh when it happened. It went quite smoothly, though I did forget the new house key when we drove the van up(down? I’d say up). It took me three times to get my new (old) Narnia wardrobe upstairs. Twice I failed and then I was so annoyed that I took the whole think apart any nail and screw was taken out so that in the end I managed to get it upstairs and in my dressing room, it is a bit crooked put back together but would you be if you were holding an entire different world inside? It took my just a few days to have the house that looked like a messy shed to be a home.
But my summer did not stop there. Just a little over a week after moving in Mama came to visit, it wasn’t so much of a vacation visit. We did do a few fun things but many we did stuff in the house and the garden. The garden was rough it took a day to get it all sorted and nice looking. Now it looks like this really pretty oasis, but it got very quickly too uncomfortable as in wet and cold to be sitting outside. We joked we should have left it to the last days of her stay to keep the sun and warmth of summer. We did put up wall stickers, moved furniture and got decorations. We had lovely talks some more serious, some more funny but I am glad to know that Mama is coming back for Christmas and this time with Dirk again but also and so much more importantly with Oma! My grandma, my Oma that I miss dearly and at points felt as if she gave up on me. I wish I had a downstairs guestroom but I will make sure that she has a lovely time here even though we have to get put the bed every night. I will keep you updated on my plans I have for their stay.
So summer came and went, it seemed so quickly. Mama left in the last week of my summer holidays and I got ready for school. It felt a little bit weird, our team had gotten smaller and was -not that any of us knew that in the first week of September- going to have to go through difficult times. Back when I was in school, I hated PE with all my heart! I saw it as weekly torture, now one third of my timetable is PE and you know what? I love it. I love supporting some youngsters that want to do PE but for different reasons need a differentiated curriculum. One pupil works really hard in the gym with me but sending him out with the rest of his class he struggles, recently he rowed 2km in 12 and a half minutes. I ran against him on the treadmill and was not able to beat him, he cheered me on for 6 minutes afterwards. Two other pupils have physical disadvantages one more severe than the other but they are both working very hard to beat their own best. The fourth pupil is a bit like a confused professor and needs someone to keep him on track of his task. I enjoy all my PE lessons, last week I’ve been told I would make a great PE teacher… I might be good with the physical education but I suck in rules and practices of games. Well for the moment I don’t know what the future brings, maybe one day I will be a teacher and maybe I will teach PE and German, that doesn’t sound so awful as I would have expected -at least the PE part-.
School is nothing excited but I love my job, sure the getting up part is hard and having to walk Dakota twice a day by myself is not easy. Constantly having to consider if she is alone too much but we adapted. I walk her so much during the week that at weekends she is still pretty tired.
Dakota changed a little bit she still shares toys and chews with Kurt when he is visiting but she has trouble sharing me with him. But that is understandable, she does not have to share me any more, it is different with Yvaine. Yvaine is not so much of a snuggler. Yvaine has changed too, she is now wearing a calming collar and I got to say she seems less angry with the world. For the time being she will continue wearing one, and once my guest arrive I will even top it up with calming drop-ons. She is also being trained to use the human toilet instead of a litter tray, Dakota likes eating the litter and I just see a huge mess. So far it is going very well. We are in the second stage I guess, the first stages were to get her used to a smaller littler tray and then a trainings toilet seat litter tray. She will for another 5 days use the one that is closed and then we start the third stage, still the trainings toilet seat litter tray but it will have a small hole in the middle. It will take time but fingers crossed so far she is adjusting very well. It will be nice to be done with littler trays, the toilet will be clean and easy maintainable. And the best part Dakota cannot eat dirty litter any more. Something that is really disgusting.
Since I moved I went to a new church, they are all very nice and friendly I will try it a few times and also try some others before I settle. It is nice to meet people here. On the note of meeting people I would love to talk about my neighbours but a part of me worries that somehow they find out. They fight, as in physical fight and one night the police came and recently they broke their own living room window. It is a little bit scary. The kids of the street like me and Dakota, they are amused by Yvaine, they don’t seem to understand why I do not let her out. I have to make sure they don’t start knocking at the window when she is sitting there.
I don’t think this topic is a topic for a short paragraph but it is a start. So I am yearning to be a mother, and I tried the adoption foster road and I ran the council here again but even though they liked me on the phone as soon they asked me about family and support system they told me I need to make more friends. I decided I will go down the route of co-parenting, I am searching for a man that is willing to co-parent. It is the route of sperm donor and separated parents it is a scary route and a long road ahead of me, especially with my polycystic ovary syndrome. It makes conceiving a little bit hard. The process of finding someone that is a person I want to have in my life forever is not easy. I am basically looking to find a best friend that I want to have a child with. If everything works out I will be a mother in the next few years hopefully before I turn 35. It is scary but exciting.
And lastly, thank you for everyone that supported me and Dakota during our mud run. We raced £125 and got muddy to the underwear. It was so much fun.
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I will try to write more regularly, for whoever reads those I know it is many for me but hey I enjoy writing and if anyone out there enjoys reading it that is fine by me. It helps me to let out my inner writer no matter how boring it may seem. I live alone and this way I feel like I am talking to a lot of people, to friends.
The Chaos Of Life It's been a while since I wrote to you. Well I had a busy summer and in a way needed some time to adjust.
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benjimirthursby · 4 years
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"Before and Again." - The Book of Thursby: Scions of Numenor [SB]
*Revised from Prompt 8 of FFXIV Write “Clamor.”  See end-notes.
"By the reckoning of years on home shores the fleet had been in flight thousands of years.  There were as many years ahead of the fleet before reaching the intended galaxy.  From the beginning, if there is such a thing, it was resolved not to compromise the mission in vain hope of finding a way to shorten or speed the journey.  Few temptations to break faith with their mandate were greater than that in Arda 922." 
- Tinifalas Thursby, "Seven Stars in the Horizon."
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The jaunt to the Company Hall was a different process than that to Limsa the day before.  Aubreen provided Benjimir with a tiny crystal which he palmed before she departed ahead of him.  As instructed, he gripped the crystal and internally focused his thoughts on where it was he wanted to go, void of images as he had not been there.  He augmented his focus with, as his friend instructed, “happy thoughts” and as the memory of the laughter from the previously nights night cap filled his mind, sure as enough he felt himself able to fly.  Again his vision filled with soft light and flares, faded to black and returned.  
Benjimir’s vision resumed from the black interlude with the vivid light of a small, man-sized crystal, then a pathway, which he noticed was blockaded by an assembly of people.  As he felt himself “slide off the bed” to the ground he emerged into the clamor of the mass of people clapping and making assorted cat calls.  The culprits for the welcoming committee were Bondermir and Aubree who gestured to the crowd which Benjimir took stock of.  Captains Riehnheart, Hayes, Vaunter, his brother Tinifalas, Osmira Miegs the master of keepers, alchemy and craft as well as assorted officers previously from “up well assignments.  Friends all, if usually through Benjimir’s usual formality.  Never the less he laughed and smiled and approached his friends.  
Captain Hayes kicked off the friendly ribbing.  “Did he heave too?”  she said.  “No I most certainly did not.” Benjimir said in mock indignation.
Hayes passed a few gil to Rienheart. “Did he drink?”  Vaunter asked skeptically.
“No.  He most certainly didn’t.” Aubreen announced, to which most assembled including the commodore began tossing gil at Vaunter.
Benjimir laughed and pointed at his protege, “I expect a cut out of that Captain, after all, it was my sacrifice.”  
Tinifalas cupped a hand over his mouth and cried “Cough, Chocopoo, cough cough.”
Benjimir whipped a finger at his brother, “Your out of the will.  Now lets be about this show to tell of Miegs’ and have a look around this place.”  All filed into the Hall and up the stairs.  Bondermir paused to speak to a ginger headed young woman with a stroller and taking a box from her tipped his head and gave a pouch of gil to her.  
Benjimir asked his brother as they walked up the stairs. “Something I ought to know?” gesturing with his head back down the stairs where the woman was leaving and Bondermir turning to join them.  Tiniffalas looked back and quickly shook his head.  “Oh, no.  That is miss Yvaine, she is a local baker and shop-keep.  She’s just started offering services here by Captain Tessariel’s leave.”
“I see,” Benjimir said.  “What’s she bake?” he asked as he entered the second floor’s open space of tables, a bar and small stage.
“Find out.” Bondermir said, walking around Benjimir’s left side and pressing the small box into his chest.  “Finest to be had courtesy of the White Tree.” he finished with a smile. “Not near my demonstration however.” Miegs said approaching.  “This way sir.”  She led them to the small stage where a long table was setup.  The table had two seemingly identical setups.  The first had a sliver of crystal in a setting.  Behind the setting was a small miners lamp burning brightly.  The light shown through the crystal and cast a glimmer onto a small board which stood between it and another crystal in an identical setting.  This crystal also gleamed and illuminated the other side of this board.
“This is a simplified version of the experiment sir, but it will suffice to demonstrate what we have found.” Miegs said in her usual precise, measured pace.  “Note the second crystal here, “ she pointed to the crystal without a lamp.  “No obvious source of light.”
Benjimir nodded.  It was an experiment most early academy students were taught  in their youngest years.  Gifts were made of sets to replicate it in home quarters for birthdays.  “Photon Dossimir Translocation.” He said.  Miegs nodded affirmatively.  Benjimir smiled.  “I did learn something of it while I was a student of….”
“History.” most all those present said as one.
Benjimir took liberty to glare around himself a moment.  “I feel judged.” he mocked.  “Continue please.”  
Miegs placed another board between the crystal next to the lamp and waved it between the light and setting several times, interrupting the light, then extinguishing the lamp.  The gleam from the first crystal ended with a flicker.  Immediately all eyes were fixed on the second crystal.  Luminous as before.
Miegs continued.  “These shards were taken from the hull of the SNS Aundustar,” she carefully noted it as the Sons of Numenorl Ship which differentiated it from the more recently commissioned Scions Air Ship of the same name. “Each was half a hull length from the other and were lodged by impacts following the fall of Dalamud.”
“Could the second crystal be in resonance with another?” Bondermir asked.  As he did, the second crystal flickered and went dark, mirroring Miegs’ steps moments before.
“No.”  Miegs said plainly.  The first crystal then flared to life again, flashing before taking on a steady gleam.  
“We’ve long been unable to determine the cause of a growing number of discontinuities these past five years.  Chrono sync issues, delayed Dossi coms, inconsistent system and hull fatigues, and so forth.  We think this may pose a partial explanation and suggest new questions.”  Miegs concluded.  
Miegs then moved the lamp from the first crystal and placed it next to the second and relit the flame and waved her hand in front of the flame, duplicating the flicker in the first crystal perfectly.  The light from the first crystal went dark again.
“We are continuing to consult with lore keepers down well and are exploring the full meaning and possible applications.  However we cannot offer any conclusions at this time.”  Miegs then extinguished the lamp once more.  
“We’re going to need more crystals.” Benjimir said quietly.
*******
*Note: I’ve decided to cease posting for FFXIV Write within the timing of the official “entries.”  Work and hypothetical needs becoming very real on Wednesday with a seriously ill family member make the turn-around time untenable.  I will continue participating though, it is always a great exercise that pushes me to sharpen skills and focus.  But I will not be entering posts in competition for a prize.  Since I’m not trying to win something, I’m also going to edit my posts moving forward such as this one since it was a bloody mess looking back.  I can’t include it in my larger work in its original form.  But I’ll leave the first posting up for comparison.
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trulycertain · 7 years
Text
The other three promptfics for @musicalheart168.
15. Cullen and Yvaine: a gentle “i love you” whispered after a soft kiss, followed immediately by a stronger kiss
She strides into Skyhold like something from a painting - or so he thinks at first, before he sees the limp she can’t quite hide, and the tiredness in her eyes. Even with those and the fact worry is rising in him at the sight of them, she beams at the cheering crowd and it’s like the sun rising. He can’t look away. He never can.
Yvaine Trevelyan, Saviour of Thedas. He knows she’d laugh in embarrassment at that and probably try to hide behind her hair, but it’s true.
He holds her, listens to her breathe, and refuses to pay any mind to the watching crowd and the chorus of whispers. This is enough.
It’s only afterwards, when they walk away from the others and find themselves in a silent corridor, that the smile falls from her face. It’s replaced by an almost frightening intensity.
“Yvaine?” he tries.
She pulls him down and kisses him, her hand in his hair. It’s gentle; it makes something in his chest ache fiercely. She tastes of salt and lightning. She murmurs, “I love you.” 
They part, and he stares at her -
Then she’s kissing him again, rising on her toes to deepen it, and he feels his back hit the wall. “I love you,” she says, and her voice isn’t shaking from breathlessness.
“I love you, too,” he manages. “Yvaine, what is this?”
She ducks her head, frowning. He only pulls off his glove, tucking it into his pocket, and then puts his hand under her chin, tilting her face back up.
She says, “I thought of you. When I was going with the others, when I saw the Breach open like that and I knew I might not make it... I was thinking of you. I was thinking of coming back to you, and you saying something about how I needed to conserve magic but you were glad I was alive even if I couldn’t fight for fudge, and...” She swallows. “I thought of you. I was always thinking of how badly I needed to come back to you.”
“Yvaine...” he breathes, losing the words.
“I love you.” She tucks her face against his shoulder, and he feels her cold nose touch his neck. She’s shivering, slightly, whether through cold or shock he can’t tell. “Maker, I actually went and survived, didn’t I?”
“You did. And I...” He takes off his other glove and then tugs at his cloak until it’s wrapped around them both. Underneath it, he rests his hand on her back, feeling the rise and fall of her breath. “I am so glad.”
They rest there, holding each other in the light of the setting sun, and on the other side of the door, Skyhold celebrates.
8. being unable to open their eyes for a few moments afterward 
There’s something vulnerable about Cassandra here, in the afternoon sunlight. It’s in the way her fingers curl around his, and in the way she keeps her eyes closed, her mouth open, as if stunned by the kiss. “I did not expect...” she manages, and then she leans against him, laughing under her breath.
"What?” Kosh says gently.
“I am... very glad I didn’t kill you after the Conclave.”
He snorts. “Me too. Trust me.”
Then she reaches upwards, and he tries what she did: closes his eyes and just lets himself feel. Stops being afraid of crushing her, or the surprise on the Valo-kas’ faces if they ever find out that he’s with a tiny human, or the soldiers who might come up here, or...
I love you, he thinks, as he feels calloused fingers trace along his jaw. I love you, he thinks, as he feels her smile against his mouth.
“I love you,” he breathes, his forehead resting against hers.
She kisses his cheek, and he feels her smile again. “I know, Kosh.”
They breathe together in the silence, and there’s nothing but this room, and the way her hands curl around his and hold him there, grounding him.
20. kisses meant to distract the other person from whatever they were intently doing
“How interesting. The dread magister has the Inquisitor alone and defenceless.”
Gal grunts and keeps squinting at the map, taking a swig of tea before he says, “You’re not a magister. And I could kick your arse.”
“But there are so many more interesting things you could be doing with it instead.” Dorian pauses, in what sounds like amused surprise. “Did you just choke?”
Gal puts his mug on the desk. “Think I’ve got tea all over me. At least it was cold.” He wipes his hand on his breeches and goes back to tracing the route over the Exalted Plains. Even if he’s trying not to laugh.
“Well...” The word is languid, and Gal hears Dorian cross the room. “I can think of one solution to your discomfort.”
Gal’s mouth twitches, but he focuses on the map. “Which is?”
“You ought to do something about your wet clothes.” Dorian’s hand rests on Gal’s shoulder and touches his neck.
Gal loses the battle and huffs a laugh. “Only got it on my arm...” He tries to ignore the creak of leather as Dorian moves.
“The shirt, then.” Dorian’s voice is still casual, amused. “That’ll be a good start.”
“I need to - “ Gal’s words stop at the feeling of Dorian’s mouth on his neck. “Dorian.”
“You need to take a well-deserved break.” Dorian nips at his earlobe. “Also, I was there when you first devised our path. And the other four times, too. You know it like the back of your hand. That’s the sort of thing you’re good at.” A slow, open-mouthed kiss to the corner of Gal’s jaw. “And this is the sort of thing I’m good at.”
“Are you normally this... blatant?” Gal manages, trying to ignore the quick hands untying his hair.
“I did mention alone? For the first time in nearly a week? And you’re a bad influence.” Dorian threads his fingers into Gal’s hair, gently turns Gal’s head until their eyes meet. “Terrible, in fact.”
Gal stares at the man who’s on one knee next to his desk and grinning fiendishly at him. Tries not to think about how lucky he is. Mentally starts reciting the route again, wondering why even in his head, it sounds desperate. “I might not have got it all - “
The recitation falters when Dorian tugs him into a kiss, and dies completely once Dorian deepens it. Gal ends up with his legs weak, trying not to fall out of his chair, and if there was enough room he’d probably end up pulling Dorian into his lap.
Dorian pulls away and says matter-of-factly, while Gal’s still trying to get his breath back, “We start at the Path of Flame, and then?”
“The Southern Ramparts,” Gal pants.
“Before going to the fortress with the overzealous security enchantments.” Dorian kisses him again, and this one’s gentler, softer.
“To talk to the - the sergeant. But that’s only half of it ”
“And I know you have the rest. I have every confidence in you.” Dorian leans across and slides the map slightly further away, before he says into Gal’s ear, “Have mercy on a poor wretch, amatus.”
Cheating, he wants to say. Can’t go all “my love” every time you want something. It’s probably cheating to say he knows what it means, too.
“I should go through the - “ Gal sighs. “Fuck it.” Then he’s kissing Dorian hard enough that he barely feels the chair give up the ghost - until they're falling onto the floor, narrowly avoiding headbutting each other. Gal only realises afterwards that he’s curled round Dorian like he’s trying to protect him.
Dorian's laughter is startled but real. “Very nice. I didn’t know we were sparring.” He touches Gal’s head where it’s resting on his shoulder, raising Gal’s face. “So,” he says, too seriously. “Then we turn left to begin the journey to the Citadel - “
"You’re right,” Gal says. “Got the route down.” He kisses Dorian again, feeling that low laughter against his chest.
They realise later that the map and some of the tea have ended up on the floor - but it’s a long time later, and they don’t much care.
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keeperprinceling · 7 years
Text
Honeymoon
Khit’li and Yvaine’s honeymoon, part three
(part one) (part two)
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It was in moments like these that she wished she had magic she could summon without the need for her weapon. What was she—the Warrior of Light—once they took her bow away? Nothing, that was what. She had to rely on Khit’li, who was in actuality so much more capable than she was. Yes, she had the Echo, but she had no idea how to use it. It was just… in her. And it gave her visions whenever it felt like it or boosted her powers in the face of primals and protected her from their tempering, but hell if she knew how to control—let alone use—it. Half the time she felt like it used her. Made her what she was—a hero, supposedly—and yet, sometimes she felt like she didn’t have much of a say in it.
She believed in what she was fighting for, and she had thought she was the only one who could do it, but what if she was wrong? What if it only brought about misery and a war that never ended? They’d driven away the Empire once, they’d saved Ishgard, they were getting ready to free Ala Mhigo, but where did it end? When the Garleans were completely decimated? When they were fully driven out? Would they not seek revenge anyway?
It was not her entire life or her past that flashed before her mind’s eye when she looked at that sword above her. Rather, it was her entire future, the one she had dared to dream of, where she lived happily with Khit’li and their children. All of it was going to be taken away in a blink of an eye.
And she felt heat rising in her chest, an unspoken scream of a simple word. NO.
If only it were that easy to stop them.
But something did stop them, even if it was not her. Khit’li’s voice sounded eerily calm as he ordered them to stop, threatening her captors’ lives.
She looked at him, trying to catch his eyes, trying to see what he planned. And to say that she loved him if there were none. She gasped when one of them pulled him roughly, put a blade in his throat, and for a second she thought she was going to lose him then and there, that she would have to witness them murder him. This time a scream did escape, and she struggled violently, knocking one of the Garleans in the jaw, feeling satisfaction at his angry howling. Another one quickly retaliated with a punch and restrained her again, leaving her fuming, her entire vision narrowing to Khit’li and the blood that had trickled down his neck.
Her heart was beating too loud in her chest to hear the conversation between him and the Garleans, but she struggled to concentrate. She didn’t know how he could even think in this moment when all she could feel was the fire raging inside her and all she could see through the tears were blurry figures of people she had never felt such murderous intent for. She never relished the killing she had to do, and that was partly why she’d chosen the bow—it was quiet and fast, it could be done from afar, she never had to go face to face with anyone or beat them up with her own hands.
But these people?
They made her burn.
Khit’li’s words trickled through the haze of red, only bits and pieces that confused her. Aetherbomb? She’d never heard of that before. Was he bluffing?
They thought so as well, and then he talked about her dying, portraying such a nice afterlife—all a lie, she knew, for what kind of afterlife could be beautiful without him and their future—and wondered if he really thought they would just let them go. She knew Garleans; they were never going to go for it.
They soon decided to take them alive instead, and hope slowly bloomed within her. Taken alive meant there was still a chance to fight, to escape. To be rescued, even, once the Scions figured out what happened. She almost willingly went as they pulled her up, but Khit’li spoke again, rejecting it, his body glowing with power that daunted even her. She tried to shake her head at him, to tell him to take this bargain, the best they could get. They’d freed Minfilia from the Garleans before, surely the Scions could do it again, and maybe they wouldn’t even immediately kill her, what with everything that had happened.
Don’t provoke them anymore, she tried to say through her eyes, willing him to go quietly, to bide their time, to seek for opportunities to escape when his magic had returned and she could fashion a weapon out of something else…
Then he spoke the words that would doom them both for sure. Just him?! He was volunteering to be taken alone?!
No, surely they wouldn’t want to give her up in exchange of him…
Her panic rose as he continued to talk, spouting all his values, something that she’d oddly been very familiar with by now, but this time it was not funny or endearing or charming, this time all she wanted was for him to shut up and stop talking.
”No!” she cried out, her voice ripped out of her with such fury. “You won’t go alone. It’s either both of us or not at all!”
She pleaded with him with her eyes, willing him to read everything her mind was screaming at him.
We only have hope if we’re together, not apart. Don’t do this to us. I’ll never forgive you if you left me on our wedding night!
Her furious words tore through him like a hot, dull knife. Still he could not look at her, answering her would be hard enough. He kept his attention on the commander, and narrowed his eyes, “You’re the Warrior of Light,” he answered simply, pausing just long enough to muster enough hatred for her captors to push past the pain and move through the waver in his voice. “They wouldn’t chance keeping you alive when we get to where we’re going. They’d try to make you talk, use me against you when you didn’t, and when they finish with you they’ll execute you publicly to punish Eorzea. I’m not letting that happen. They can deal with me. They can’t threaten death,” he cocked his head slightly, continuing with the charade of the ‘aetherbomb’, “but I’m sure they’ll find other ways of making me talk. It just won’t include you.”
“I’m not going to let you die, Yvaine,” he said, glancing just once, just for a moment, down at her shorter frame, and as he looked back at the other he adjusted his hold on his closed book so the newly placed ring on his left hand flashed in her direction. “Just as you wouldn’t have let me if our positions were reversed. I go, you stay. These bastards get to live, but so, too, will the Warrior of Light.”
And as soon he knows she’s safely away, he’ll teleport right back to her side the moment they give him long enough to hone in on her aether signature using the Eternity Ring.
“Do we have a deal, or should I just apologize to her and let this explode?”
For the first time in her life, she truly despised the title given to her by everyone, the title that somehow always elevated the worth of her life beyond others she cared about. She’d lost the Scions this way, she’d lost Haurchefant… she’d tried to stay with Papalymo but—
A sob choked her at the thought that her own husband would do that as well, despite promising otherwise.
It didn’t matter that his words were right. It didn’t matter that she’d probably take the world down with her if she let herself be captured. She’d rather die with him than continue living on without him. For once, she just wanted to be Yvaine Aradia, wife to Khit’li Mewrilah.
She wondered if she could ask him to just kill them both and be done with it.
Would she really do the same had she been in his position? The idea that she would ever walk away from him, condemning him to a life without her lanced her like a betrayal. But she had almost done that, hadn't she?
As confusion swirled within her, she looked up and caught the glint of light, blinking as she noticed something that wasn’t there before tonight—the ring. The Eternity Ring!
It could bring him back to her. Relief flooded her as she realized what his true plan was. Of course, he was clever. She should have trusted him… But maybe her outburst would help sell his charade better.
She said nothing more, just waited, hoping they would take him and go, so that he could come back to her and all would be well.
“We have a deal, then,” the Garlean projected, stepping away from Yvaine. “Release her, but keep her covered. I want none of that Warrior of Light magic to rear its ugly head. Toss the bow so she doesn’t make a mistake.”
His men worked quickly; the two that were holding her down now moving back, their own arrows drawn and trained on her as a third pulled her bow from the sand and slung it away from them, the weapon spinning through the air as it disappeared into the night. She’d be able to recover it later. They followed their commander in his retreat towards the boat, pausing when he stopped near Khit’li.  “Are the wounded aboard?” he called, nodding his head to a signal the Miqo’te could not see. Not that he cared much anymore; it had worked: Yvaine was alive and free. Now he could look at her, now that it was over and he was assured of her safety, knowing he did everything he could and succeeded for her. Sure, he would’ve preferred they had just eaten his bluff and walked away, but using the rings to get out of a sticky situation seemed somehow poetic, and right in line with the realization that inspired the… somewhat convoluted plan. They didn’t both need to be freed now – corny as it sounded, love would set him free. … Love and miniature aether crystals attuned to them, anyway. He didn’t like to see her looking so upset and seeing her hurt made him feel sick, but he was confident she understood the plan. They just had to sell the goodbye.
“Khit’li Mewrilah, you are hereby a prisoner of the Garlean Empire. You are relieved of your weapons and are guaranteed safe passage to our destination for as long as your behavior allows for such.”
As the commander spoke, the Elezen finally withdrew the knife, sheathed it, and tore the book from his left hand, tossing it aside. Khit’li frowned, but quickly retrained his eyes on Yvaine, offering a her an eyeroll and sardonic smile for the action instead, wanting her to be confident in this; being defenseless wasn’t appealing, but it wouldn’t be for long. He loved her. He knew how much sacrifices made for her weighed on her, but this wasn’t really a sacrifice – it was just a few hours, a day at most. He’d be okay - he could handle it, and he wanted her to know that.
The commander had started walking, Khit’li with him, being pulled along by a firm hand on his bicep, but a quick “Sir?” brought everyone to a halt. He rolled his eyes again for her – Garleans – but what was said next made his heart stop. “The ring?”
“Ah, right,” the Hyur replied slyly, “I had nearly forgotten. That would’ve been a waste, wouldn’t it? Both of that hard-bought information and this charming little deal. Relieve him of it, would you, Armand?”
His hand jerked up over his head – his fist clenched instinctively – and an arrow flew through the air, landing in the trunk behind Yvaine. Wide-eyed, he froze.
What had he done?
“So clumsy, Alnod!” the commander lightly admonished, “I’m sure Mr. Khit hadn’t meant to resist after he had surrendered under such fair terms, but accidents happen. Now prepare another arrow and this time be more careful with your aim.”
“I won’t miss again, Sir,” his favorite Garlean replied, a smile clear in his voice.
He uncurled his hand, allowing the Elezen to remove his ring. His only way out. A symbol of her.
“There now, not so bad, is it?” He had been so sure they wouldn’t have known about its abilities – the whole process of attunement had been so fundamentally Eorzean in nature they had no reason to know. He… he had failed her. He tried to look brave for her, forced a smile as he memorized her all over again. She’d never forgive him for this. … he may never get the chance. The aetherbomb ruse would only go so far. This could be the last time…
“It’ll be okay,” he said, just for her, his smile wavering but staying stubbornly in place.
“That’s more like it,” the commander cooed. “Toss the ring.”
She gritted her teeth to stop herself from saying something stupid to the Garlean commander, forcing herself to stay still as they released her but trained their weapons on her. Her bow was out of reach now, not that she could use it anyway, since her arm had now gone completely numb and whatever they used was still spreading, weighing down her body and making her feel as if she were a rock in the bottom of the ocean.
She didn’t breathe easy until the knife finally left his neck, yet she tensed when his book, too, was thrown. He rolled his eyes at her and she tried for a smile, even as worry still ate at her. What if the ring didn’t work? He’d have nothing else to defend himself with… The thought of what they would do to him to get information about her was slowly killing her inside.
As he began to walk away, she tried to pull herself up, even as she forced herself to be patient and wait until he came back to her instead of going after him. She couldn’t fight right now, anyway…
But it was so hard to watch him walk away. It felt like it could be the last time she saw him.
Then they stopped. He looked again at her, and then upon hearing the soldier’s next words, she saw the moment in which his humor turned to terror, mirroring the very same dread she felt in her heart, cold as a clamp of ice. No.
They knew about the ring?! Panic coursed through her as the commander ordered for it to be removed, she scrambled to her feet fully—
Only to almost be stabbed by an arrow right in the face.
It whizzed past her, nicking her cheek, leaving a trail of blood down her face as it landed with a thud somewhere behind her. She’d frozen completely, her heart stopping for a brief second, and now she was shaking.
He’d forced that shot. It was a warning shot, for both of them, to remind them that the Garleans still had the upper hand, and that they had no choice but to follow their terms.
Even if it meant never seeing each other again.
She shook where she stood as they spoke casually of the incident, making it sound like an accident, and then she was forced to watch as one of them touched the ring—their sacred bond—and then removed it. It felt like such a violation, and it seemed to be the symbol that sealed their separation.
It was the symbol of their eternal bond.
And now they were taking it.
She couldn’t stand seeing it in their hands. She couldn’t stand seeing him look at her as if everything was going to be all right when she knew it wasn’t. She couldn’t stand not doing anything while he walked away from her, without his ring.
With a groan she finally managed to stand, even if her entire left part of the body seemed to sag uselessly. Even if she had no weapon to fight with or the skill to fight without one. If she had to crawl on all fours to reach him… she would.
She opened her mouth to say that he can’t go, that they would have to take them both after all, but then the commander gave the order to throw away the ring and she glared at him with fire in her eyes.
“Give it to me,” she demanded. “It’s the least you can do. And let me say goodbye.”
Her tone left no room for debate, even as her voice trembled with anguish.
He moved to go to her – that specific tenor had never been denied, by friend or foe, but the way it trembled made him want nothing more than to hold her. To wipe the blood from her cheek and kiss her and tell her again that it’d be okay. He’d come up with something. Scions had been taken before and they’d always come home in the end; sure, it had usually been them who found and rescued them, and it had never been as far as Garlemald itself, and some… some never had returned, but that wouldn’t happen this time. She’d be okay. He’d make it. That this wouldn’t be the last time he held her.
But as he moved forward for the goodbye that he stubbornly refused to allow to be the end, the commander inhaled loudly and he was held in place by the Elezen Armond, the grip on his upper arm, still held above his head, tightening against further movement. In a mix of fury and fear he turned to see the Hyur commander, ready to fight for their right to a goodbye… until the three arrows trained on her drowned his anger in trepidation. He had no more control over the situation.
“It’s funny how they hadn’t asked for a goodbye before we took the ring,” the commander seemed to ponder aloud, “It’s almost as though they thought they had us tricked and fully intended to go back on our deal, even as we made it; what do you think, Alnod?”
The Hyur wasn’t going to allow it. Forcing himself to breath evenly, he looked back to Yvaine, this time unable to muster a smile of any sort. He loved her. Wholly. Irreversibly. Desperately. To think that the last time he touched her had been so rough – he hoped that would not be what she remembered. When she thought back on him let it be from earlier, not on how he might have hurt her in his attempt to escape, or how he failed her here.
“Seems that way to me, Sir,” Alnod replied, his voice every bit as dangerous as it was playful. “Not very respectful of them.”
He loved the way she looked in the moonlight: the way Menphina made her skin glow and her sea-colored hair shift in the breeze. His stomach churned to see the blood dripping from her jawline; the awkward way her arm hung from her shoulder from the paralyzing agent on the tipped arrow made him feel sick – she should sit down and be comfortable.
“Neither respectful nor commanding of trust, I agree,” the Garlean paused, as though considering, “She can have the ring, but they’ll just have to yell their goodbyes, seeing as I can’t trust them. Move out.”
His arm twisted back down to his side but the Elezen’s hand remained, tightening momentarily as Armond pulled back to throw the ring to her, the stone glittering as it arced across the darkness towards her. He wouldn't get to hold her one last time, or apologize for insisting they were unreachable that night. He wouldn't get to kiss her goodbye. She'd always have a part of him in her ring, and for that he was grateful, but as he was pulled into walking towards the shore he didn't know what to say. He didn't want this to be their end. He didn't want this for her - to have yet another person taken from her. He was afraid of what was to come for him, but he'd have days to think about that - now was the only chance he had to make sure she'd be okay. He loved her, and he would love her for the rest of his life, no matter how long or short that might be, and the selfish part of him wanted the same of her but that wasn't fair and that wasn't love talking. She should love again. And she shouldn't be afraid that anyone she got close to would end up like this because of her. He had tried to be that example but he had failed; that didn't mean anyone else would. The Free Company, the other Scions - they had better take care of her and themselves for her. And whomever she gave her heart to next - even the notion made his chest hurt - but whomever that was, if he met them in the After before he met Yvaine, he'd beat them into the next life for letting him down.
"I love you," he called as the divide between them grew. She should never doubt that. "I'm sorry I got us into this." It wasn't her fault and she shouldn't blame herself. But he didn't know what else to say, and soon they'd have to shout to be heard. "Kick their asses for me," he finally finished, ignoring the rush of other things he would want her to do for him. Live for him. Settle down for him - enjoy the peace when it comes. Have kids. Grow old. There was so much he had wanted to experience with her, and now... but he couldn't say those things. He didn't want to make this worse than it already was.
She briefly wondered if she could do what she did that time with the horde of dragons, when they’d almost died in the Churning Mists. That time, she had been filled with anger and fear and had somehow exploded in a force unlike anything she’d seen before. But that time she had her bow.
She—the Warrior of Light—was nothing without her bow.
Forced to watch helplessly as the love of her life was taken away from her in front of her eyes with no means to get him back. Forced to accept that this might be the last goodbye, that he might die and she would never see him again.
On her wedding night.
What had she ever done to deserve this? What had he ever done? She’d saved the world a thousand times over. All she’d ever been was selfless, and this was what fate decided to give her?
That was unacceptable.
Her eyes were glued to him, memorizing every single feature of him, not daring to think it was because she was afraid of forgetting them. His one ‘bad’ eye, perpetually hidden under his stubborn bangs—suddenly she really wanted to see it. She wanted to see all of him.
She barely paid attention to the Garleans’ condescending conversation, making note to remember their names as they had so gracefully offered them, so that later she could hunt them down and kill them. When the commander said that they weren’t going to have their goodbye, she felt her world crumbling all around her. The desire to scream and throw something—anything—at his captors was overwhelming. All she wanted was to get to touch him again. To kiss him and never stop. To hold him in her arms and never let go.
He was walking away. “Khit’li!” she yelled, forcing herself to move, to follow him, managing a couple steps before her left leg gave way underneath her. “NO!”
This could not be happening again. He’d only given himself away to spare her. She saw again the flashes of everyone else’s faces and smile before they turned and walked away—Haurchefant, Minfilia, Ysayle, Papalymo—as they told her she must live, that she was the Warrior of Light, the burden she never asked for.
The accursed title.
All she was ever going to see, all she was ever going to get to have was to watch everyone walk away. To see their retreating backs as they went off to certain death, leaving her on her own.
She was always going to be alone.
Tears blurred her vision and she blinked them away frantically, not wanting to lose sight of him now when she might not be able to see him again ever. He shouted that he loved her and apologized, and she was never going to forgive him, probably, but she didn’t want that to be the last thing he remembered.
“I love you too,” she cried, her voice hoarse. “I’ll find you! I swear it, Khit’li, on my life, on Eorzea, I will not rest until I find you. I will not do anything else before we’re back together. Wait for me. Don’t give up. I won’t. Not ever.”
Her words dissolved into sobs as she fell to the cool sand, burying her face in her hands. In that moment, she made a vow that she was going to find him if it was the last thing she did. The universe owed her this. She was not going to be the Warrior of Light without him.
She was never going to love again.
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Her words echoed, the promise rolling around in the night just as it did in his mind. He should have told her it was okay. That she shouldn’t do that – that it was useless, that she had other things to worry about, that coming after him would undoubtedly lead to a trap and undo everything he just did to secure her freedom, but he failed to say anything. Whether he didn’t want to take that promise away from her, or from himself, he let it float in the distance between them, the last thing that passed between them before he was unceremoniously pulled into a rowboat and he lost her silhouette to a red-and-black uniform. The grit of the shore scraped away from beneath them, the vessel rocked as the last soldier hopped in, and as the oarsmen pulled at the water and they glided away, he got his last look at the frail figure on the beach who was stronger than she would ever know.
Yvaine Aradia, the Warrior of Light, the useless Keeper who couldn’t even read a map. The woman whose heart was too big for her own good – who would help anyone and anything to the point of her own exhaustion, who went above and beyond to spare a perfect stranger’s hurt and heartache so long as it was within her power, and oftentimes even when it wasn’t. What she could and would do for people, even those she didn’t know, even when it put her life in danger, even when no one else thought it could be done… it was no wonder she was the symbol of Eorzea’s hope. But who would watch out for her now? Who was going to make sure she wasn’t being taken advantage of? Who was going to tell people off if they asked her one more time to haul packages? They would make sure she ate, right? They’d tell her when people were trying to scam her, or take care of it another way so she could continue to be so trusting, wouldn’t they? They’d make her take a break when she looked frazzled or tired, even if they had to fake being evenmoreso so she’d have to stop for their sake if not her own – and when things went wrong they’d have to know how and when to comfort her –she’d never let it go otherwise. She needed someone to be there for her – she needed someone now, right now, but no one was coming – no one even knew to be there. She shouldn’t be alone – she should never be alone –
And here he was, stuck on a godsdamned boat instead of with her. She was the best thing that had ever happened to him, the best thing he never knew he needed, the only person who had ever wanted him, and he had screwed things up so bad that not only had he let her go but in the last words between them she had promised to put herself in danger to come after him. He had never wanted to be a burden on her, and yet that bit of hope that she’d be coming for him was a lifeline he couldn’t let go of.
He didn’t want this to be their end.
And then she faded from view, lost in the blur of the shore.
The end.
Yvaine --> @yvainearadia
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