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#Saying goodbyes to il mheg
cursoulla · 10 months
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this was v fun to do 🥹 also I love em sm wahhh
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brineffxiv · 1 year
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Understanding hurts. He was just a little guy, and was doing his best to save his people, even though he could barely remember them.
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Is that enough? I don't know that it's enough...
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That does seem the most likely explanation. I've thought about it quite a bit, why would Emet-Selch make a plan to assist me in taking down Elidibus? And the best answer I can come up with, was that it was an act of compassion for his friend. He knew how fraught and lonely their struggle was, and he knew both who and what Elidibus was now and who he used to be. And he would have known how impossible that struggle would have been for Elidibus on his own. Emet-Selch was the ancients' last true hope for restoration; without him the fight would be an exercise in cruelty, for both sides. And so, knowing there was a legitimate chance I could kill him, he put contingencies into place for the constellation crystals to make their way into my hands.
The big outstanding question I have is, was that really him, or was it a shade he had constructed of himself? I lean towards it being a shade, just on the gut-feeling that it would be easier to attach a synthetic entity to the crystal than it would be to summon his soul from the aetherial sea. Also, if his soul could be called so easily, one would think it would be prudent to plan to restore himself to life. But then, there's quite a lot I don't yet understand about life, death, and rebirth in the world of this game... so perhaps there is still a chance it was actually him.
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Oh, hi Beq Lugg. Sorry if I don't seem too excited: I've just been through the emotional wringer.
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You don't know how big a relief that is to hear.
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That is significantly less of a relief. I'd thank you all to stop talking before you give me an ulcer from the stress.
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...I will not cry again... I will not cry....
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My friends all have business to tie up and goodbyes to say before I take them back to the Source, so off they go. Alisaie invites the Exarch and I to accompany her to see Halric one last time. From there I travel to Eulmore to see Alphinaud and the Chais and continue the Exarch's tour of the realm.
Next stop is Il Mheg, and Urianger, who has found Ardbert's soul crystal, and bids me deliver it to Seto...
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Where this beautiful interaction takes place. When he closes his eyes, Seto can sense Ardbert within me. And somehow, Ardbert is able to speak to him, one last time.
And I cry. Again. The crying just won't stop.
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In Slitherbough, Runar begs Y'shtola to stay, which isn't possible. But he thanks her for everything, and Y'shtola swears that she will find a way to travel between the worlds and come back again. Because there are too many mysteries here yet unsolved.
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On to Amh Areng, where I catch up with Ryne and Thancred on their way back from saying their goodbyes. And hey, a mention of Gaia outside of the Eden raids!
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Finally we head back to the Crystarium, where Ryne gives us a truly touching goodbye. And Thancred finally tells her just how proud of her he is. Good man, Thancred.
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And then the whole of the Crystarium is there to see us off!
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And to give me a final message for the Exarch. They have learned what happened to him, and what is about to be attempted, and they are sending all their love and confidence that he will be fine. I promise to give it to him when he wakes.
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And then we are off... to the Source!
.
.
.
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Ah. This is probably a good place to stop this post.
.
.
.
Okay maybe not just yet.
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Yes. That is the perfect image. It will live in my heart as a beautiful memory of Shadowbringers.
*cries some more*
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hibiscus-tome · 2 years
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FFXIV Write 2022, day 17: novel
Lyse is delayed by a day, when she leaves the Crystarium. “You’re sure you’ll be all right?” asks the Exarch, as he walks with her to the gates. “The sin eaters have been awfully bold, lately.”
She’s aware — a particularly nasty skirmish earlier this week is precisely why she had been delayed in getting out. “I’m just going to have to be, won’t I?” she retorts, grinning. “Anyway, is there anything else you’d like me to tell the others for you?”
The Exarch smiles, very gently. “I’ve already told you everything that needs to be said. Thank you for going through all the trouble, Lyse.”
“Oh, it’s no trouble at all!” she replies. “Besides — seeing everyone again is a treat for me as well.”
Then they say their goodbyes, as Lyse sets off. She doesn’t have a head for the kind of scholarly work that would see her buried in arcane tomes and novels about this world’s history, in order to see the calamity on the horizon averted — but she’s known the Scions for a long time now. If there’s one thing for certain, it’s that even they can’t push forward in their work alone, endlessly, without needing to be reminded from time to time that there was once something else there, that bound them together.
Her first stop is Rak’tika. It’s enough like Gridania to carry the tiniest spark of nostalgia — and Y’shtola never turns her away, no matter how busy she is with her research. Runar even refuses to let her leave, until she has at least two servings of his stew.
Next is Il Mheg. The pixies aren’t all that different from the Sylphs in their insistence that she entertain them, but Urianger seems to get along with them well enough — and he, too, will never turn her away.
Kholusia is trickier. Lyse knows her way around a political battlefield well enough, but Alphinaud excels at it. With that advantage, plus the sheer amount of time he’s spent there, she’ll only slow him down in his diplomatic endeavors. Still, he seems to have made some headway in his plans to infiltrate Eulmore; there’s some promise in that.
Amh Araeng is… difficult. There’s only so much that Alisaie’s pride will allow, and she’s always made her commitment to her cause — of fighting off as many sin eaters as she can manage, while helping their victims however she can — perfectly clear. There’s not much room for Lyse in that plan, unless she were to take up arms alongside her — no place for Lyse’s hovering, unless it’s of concrete benefit to that very cause — but at the very least, Tesleen seems to be a good enough influence. Alisaie isn’t entirely alone.
By no small miracle, Lyse catches Thancred on her way back to the Crystarium. He and Minfilia are locked in battle with a particularly nasty-looking sin eater — though neither of them will object to Lyse joining the fray, ending the battle far more quickly than the two of them had probably anticipated.
Even so, Thancred always tends to be rather grumpy, when she plops back into his life like an old wart — but he, too, never pushes her away, no matter the inconvenience, and she’ll take her victories where she can get them.
“Oh, don’t give me that face,” she says when she greets him with a hug, as soon as the battle is over. “It’s been a couple of months; you knew this day was coming.”
Her one consolation, in such cases, is that for all of his grumpiness, he never rejects the hug. “So I did,” he mutters, patting her lightly on the back. “How fares the Crystarium?”
“Same as ever,” she replies. “The Exarch’s getting ready to attempt another summoning.”
Thancred sighs. “Let’s hope this one is actually successful.”
“And if it’s not, then that’s one more ally we can count on,” Lyse counters. Then, she turns her attention to his traveling companion. “Hello there, Minfilia! You’ve gotten a lot better with those knives of yours!”
The girl’s grown a bit since Lyse last saw her — a few ilms taller, with a sureness to her gait that hadn’t been there before. “It’s good to see you, Lyse,” she says, very politely. “Are you heading back to the Crystarium?”
“I am,” she replies. “Can’t leave Lyna hanging for too long.”
She says her goodbyes, then, and makes her way back. With any luck, the Warrior of Light will be here soon — and when that day comes, she’ll be ready.
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norhimorovine · 2 years
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9/7 - Pawn
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"Hydaelyn… She speaks to me. I must remain behind… but you cannot stay with me. Please you must go on! You are the Warrior of Light! You are hope - for the Scions, and for all the realm! As long as your flame continues to burn, the light of dawn may ever be relit!”
---
"We did everything right, everything that was asked of us, and still - still it came to this! You of all people should understand! We cannot - we will not falter. We brought our world to the brink of destruction, and now we must save it."
They had crystals like hers. They had come from a reflection, desperate to save their world. Desperate enough to take any had that stretched out to them. Even the Ascians. Norhi wept for them. Not that her tears swayed their determined face. She didn’t know how to help them. But then Urianger’s voice rose up. He invoked a prayer to Louisoix, before turning insistent eyes to Norhi. "Quickly! Thou must needs invoke the power of thy crystal!"
Not knowing what else to do, she pulled out her own Crystal of Light and held it aloft in answer to the Warriors of Darkness. The magic swelled and rose around them, blinding her eyes. And when it cleared, they stood in the aetherial sea, upon that so familiar circle of runes.
And Her voice came, "Such pain… Such sorrow… Oh, my dear children…"
Norhi watched as Urianger made his plea and Minfilia came to them, freed by the offering of Light from their crystals. And though at first the Warriors were angry, they finally accepted her help. And then, Norhi felt her heart start to break, seeing that she was losing her friend a second time.
"Have we not walked together in the light of the Crystal, and at Her bidding borne witness to the joys and sorrows of this land? Each and every one of you knows my heart. If this be the price I must pay, I pay it gladly."
Norhi managed to smile for Minfilia, accepting the gift of Tupsimati’s shard, grateful to get to say goodbye.
But as they were about to leave, their leader Arbert, stepped forward. "Hear me, servant of Hydaelyn. If you would have us place our trust in you, then I would ask a favor. We were blind to the truth once. So I tell you this, as one fool to another. Light, Dark, it doesn't matter. What matters is how you choose to use them. We made our choice, and you see what came of it. So please… forge a different path. Seize a better fate."
---
Norhi helped Urianger prepare gifts for the pixies, so that they might start their journey to Il Mheg’s lightwarden. And she watched as Minfilia brought in the imbued ammunition for Thancred. Urianger then had Minfilia go choose a book for their journey. And Norhi had to smile at the girl’s excitement. She thought then, that Urianger had quite the fatherly nature to him.
That mood sobered quickly, when Urianger turned to Thancred. “Hast thou spoken to her of thine encounter with the Minfilia of eld?”
Norhi turned to look at Thancred with mild shock. She supposed it was entirely possible. Though, she’d assumed with the presence of the Oracles, that their Minfilia was gone. She watched Thancred cross his arms and begin to tell her of the story, just as the echo intervened.
The scene in Amh Araeng was almost familiar now, dusty and dry. But hearing her Minfilia’s voice, come out of this young woman was disconcerting to say the least. "My dearest Thancred… As I am now, I am no different from an Asican. This child is but a vessel. One of many I have used, that I might spread word of Her enduring blessing and preserve the flame of hope. In my name, each has died never having lived her own life. I have taken enough from these children. I will take no more."
Norhi watched Thancred beg and Minfilia insist on this girl having her choice, instead of being only the pawns her predecessors were. And Norhi wondered how many times her heart could break, over losing the same friend.
As the echo faded, Thancred continued his story, "I've told her many things - where we came from, what we fight for. But of that day, I have not spoken."
Norhi knew her own grief would never match Thancred’s in these moments. So, she asked the only question she felt mattered, "How do you want this to end?"
Thancred’s silence spoke more than words could mean.
Urianger broke the grief filled moment, with a reminder of their burden. "With the coming of another possessed of the blessing of Light, the First hath begun to rise up in defiance of its fate. The question remaineth, however… Who shall take up the flame of hope which Minfilia hath born for so long? Whether we will it or no, the choice must soon be made."
Norhi nodded and then looked up as the doors opened and Minfilia entered. Norhi almost laughed, for the size of the book she carried. It was easily as wide as her thin shoulders.
Minfilia’s smile was warm, if a bit sheepish. "I'm sorry I took so long. It was so hard to choose. In the end, I settled on just the one."
Norhi shook her head and smiled back. She may have lost her own Minfilia. But she could save this one, still yet.
((edit: Art))
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jenngerbread13 · 8 months
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ffxivwrite 2023 #2: Bark
Cursing to themselves, Kerina hovered the hand over the thin strip of roof atop the windmils in Kholusia and set themselves down. Doubling over, they clutched their hand to their abdomen, gritting through their teeth as they used their strength to force pressure in their abdominal area.
"You know, Hero, I thought you were handling the light aether better than this." His voice caused them to grit their teeth more.
He is here to help. Bite it back for now. Maybe he can help.
"You would be correct on that account, then," Kerina grimaced, turning their head to look at him, squinting in the bright Kholusian sun "But I suppose since you deigned to make your presence known, I could beg a boon of you?"
A quirk of his eyebrow and the expression of them being beneath him written plain on his face told them everything they needed to know at face value, however they could still see the inherent curiosity in his eyes "I told you I am but here to observe. After all, can you not prostrate yourself in a ridiculous manner again like you did in Il Mheg for the Fae King herself to come to your guidance?"
Kerina laughed, fingers gripping the roof tiles tight, eyes squeezing shut as another wave of pain wracked their body. "Ow. Would that be an option. No, Emet-Selch, I believe you may be my only hope."
"Dire straits for the Hero of the Source indeed. Having to depend on the Ascian for help. Truly, what would the Scions say?" He hopped down off the chimney and with a practiced grace sauntered along the thin roof line to stand next to them, robes fluttering in the wind as he stood over them.
"Probably some moralistic bullshit forgetting that the 'Great and Honorable Exarch' pulled us all here against our will. Plus there are some among the Scions that would empathize, unlike others." Emphasizing the quotes with their hands, Kerina sighed and realized it would be better to present themselves better, stronger. They stood up, carefully balancing themselves on the rooftop, one arm pressed to their abdomen.
A sly smile graced his face as it became apparent they had piqued his interest "What could be so important that you could only turn to me for help?"
"Fennel. Doesn't grow here. Nor does willow bark. Both would help immensely. If I was on the source I could get those easily. Alas, I am here and have no way of getting back. It's quite clear you have no such issue as it would place me in your debt." Bowing low, they peered up at him, pleading with their eyes.
"You act as if you could offer me anything worth my help." He shrugged and turned around, throwing his arms up in a dramatic flair "I suppose it cannot be helped, though, if we are to work together in cooperation. I will deliver what you ask."
The sigh of relief that escaped Kerina's lips audible in the air between them and he turned around, a near feral grin on his face, as he gripped their chin tilting it up with his leather-clad hand. "And believe me, I will be calling in the favor." 
Turning, he raised his right hand in the air and waved goodbye in his typical style, stepping into the void, leaving them there, with no retort on their tongue and their mouth dry. Pressing a button on the remote in their pocket, the mechanical had eventually hovered back over them and picked them up gingerly in the deceptively strong fingers, flying back towards the Crystarium.
The next morning, Kerina awoke to a basket on the table in their room with vibrant, feathery stalks poking out of it on one side, and dark, fragrant bark on the other. Scrambling over to the table with only their sheet covering them, they offered a small prayer of thanks to him for delivering what they needed. They took the note in their hand and read the even, flowing script. 
'Remember, you owe me. -Emet-Selch'
Taking a small piece bark, they pulled out their mortar and pestle, grinding it down a bit before popping it in their mouth, chewing on it for a long while, truly grateful for the relief it brought.
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ofdragonsdeep · 2 years
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Arguments
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When it came to the child who bore Minfilia's name, Thancred had heard them all before.
(m!WoLxThancred if you squint, ShB spoilers)
Light filtered in through the windows as Ar’telan paced his way across the floor. The pervasive, skittering drone of the eternal Light that blanketed almost all of Norvrandt bored into his head and made it hard to concentrate. 
They had come to the Bookman’s Shelves, an out-of-the-way building nestled in the heart of the fae kingdom of Il Mheg, to meet Urianger. Eulmore yet chased them, such was a given, but they had been afforded a moment of respite. It did not feel like rest, though, with the looming reminder of duty ahead of him, and the enormity of the void between when he had reached the First and when his companions had.
Thancred sat at the room’s largest table, his eyes tracking Ar’telan’s progress across the floor. He had been reading, maps of the area - albeit from the era of Voeburt - spread out across the table, but ever since Urianger had left to check on Minfilia he had given up on the notion.
“I didn’t realise you were talking with your feet now,” he remarked. Ar’telan stopped dead, wilting slightly before turning towards him.
“I’m sorry. Now isn’t the time,” he signed, and Thancred heaved a sigh.
“That’s not stopped the others,” he remarked. “You can say it.”
“I’m not here to argue with you.”
“That’s definitely the vibe that the pacing is giving me.”
Ar’telan made an unhappy noise, walking over to perch uncomfortably on one of the chairs, tail swishing behind him as a traitorous indicator of his discontent. 
“Minfilia,” he started, and Thancred’s eyes softened.
“That’s a different sign,” he remarked. “To… our Minfilia.” Ar’telan started, surprised that Thancred had noticed, and nodded.
“She isn’t the same,” he said. “The name is the same, but… she isn’t the same. So the sign is different.” 
“You saw it, though, didn’t you. What Minfilia- our Minfilia said,” Thancred said, his voice quiet. Ar’telan looked down at the table rather than meet his eyes.
“She is our Minfilia now, too,” he replied. “She’s but a child, Thancred.” Ar’telan heard Thancred’s hand clench into a fist, dragging lines across the maps that would make Urianger faint in horror.
“I know… I know,” he said, jaw clenched. “I’ve heard the arguments before. From Urianger, from Y’shtola. I know that they’re right, Ar’telan. I do. But I look at her, and I see Minfilia’s face, and I… I can’t. I find myself hoping… praying for her to come back to us, even though I know what it would mean. Gods, what it would mean.” Ar’telan reached out his hand to brush against Thancred’s own, a reassuring touch of silent comfort. Thancred started, then relaxed his clenched fingers, taking Ar’telan’s hand in his. “I suppose it’s easier for you to find the right answer. The rest of us have been wallowing in our own feelings waiting for you. Some of us longer than others.” He glanced at the door, but Ar’telan was not here for an implication that Urianger was coping worse than Thancred when the opposite was clearly true.
“Don’t think of it as an ultimatum,” he said, gently disentangling his hand so he could speak. “Think of it as time to say goodbye. Time we were never given before, when Hydaelyn stole her.” He hoped that the bitterness did not show in his movements, but Thancred scowled nonetheless. “The world is cruel and cold, but Minfilia - this Minfilia - deserves a chance to choose to live within it. If we don’t let her have that, how are we any better than Eulmore?”
“Time to say goodbye… I can’t say I’ve ever had much luck with having an abundance of time, but there’s a first time for everything, I suppose,” Thancred allowed, leaning back in his chair and running a stressed hand through his hair. “Look… I know. I’m trying. But I look at her, and I see…”
“I know how it feels to see another in someone you should care about,” Ar’telan said. That stopped Thancred short - he stiffened mid-motion, discontent morphing to horror on his face at the realisation. Ar’telan had not wanted to say it, even though it was the first thing he had thought - those long days of seeing Lahabrea’s disdainful smirk, when he had worn Thancred’s face, of punishing himself and Thancred without even wanting to as he lashed out in his attempts to understand what had happened to hm, to them. The pain, hideous and heart-wrenching, of knowing he would never, ever be able to pull them apart, not truly. Wondering if it was better for Minfilia, to live in the shadow of someone so loved, instead of one so cruel.
“Gods,” Thancred whispered. His voice was quiet, every line on his face strained, and he slowly let his head fall into his hands. “I’m doing it to her. Everything I hated. Everything I…” His voice was muted, lost against his gloves, but Ar’telan understood it well enough. He could not respond, not until Thancred could bear to look at him again, and so he sat and he waited with his ears pressed back to his head in anguish. “..I believed you when you said it was hard. Impossible, even. But I couldn’t picture it, couldn’t imagine it…” He looked at Ar’telan through his fingers, a haggard look in his eyes. “I must look like a right fool to you.” Ar’telan smiled softly at that.
“No. No more so than I was,” he replied. “It hurts, and there is no easy answer. To hear again and again that you shouldn’t, but be unable to stop. The pain won’t leave for understanding it, but it drives the wedge deeper all the same.” He sighed, fingers tumbling over themselves in a wordless filling of the gap. “But I know. I do. And I know it won’t heal overnight, if it ever does. I will stand by your side as you navigate it, just as I will stand by hers. We’ll figure it out, and make sure that the choice is hers.” 
Thancred nodded slowly, no words he could say coming forth to fill the gap. With focussed intent, he unfolded himself from the slump he had fallen into, getting to his feet and stretching his arms out in front of him. Ar’telan uncoiled himself as well, walking over to him and touching a gentle hand against his arm.
“Thank you,” Thancred said, managing something akin to a smile to accompany the words. “I owe you more than you can ever know.”
“I could say the same for you,” Ar’telan replied, a quiet laugh in his throat at the thought. “We shall try to be kind. Both of us. To her, and to ourselves, if we can.” Thancred nodded, a deep, centring breath following the motion.
“Best we can hope for, in the circumstances,” he decided. “Come on. Doubtless Urianger is running out of faerie stories by now.” Ar’telan nodded, falling into step beside him, ears forward to catch the wind. 
If not for the Light, it would feel like progress.
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msviolacea · 4 years
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kinktober day 4 - voyeurism
Full prompt list here. 
~1200 words. One-sided (maybe?) Hooded Exarch/f!WoL. Implied 5.0 spoilers inside, along with a CW for apparently non-consensual voyeurism. (Is it really? The Exarch certainly thinks so, anyway.)
*
He's been so good about using the mirror responsibly, for nearly a hundred years. The citizens of Norvrandt deserve their privacy, and they have no idea that the mysterious Crystal Exarch has the capability to spy on them at any time. He uses it only when he feels like he needs it, if he perceives a threat somewhere, or if there's knowledge to be had that might help in their ongoing fight against the sin eaters. There's nothing he needs to know otherwise, not enough to violate the privacy of the people who trust him.
All of this is still true. He reminds himself of it every time she says goodbye and returns to her room in the Pendants. He even manages restraint the first few times. And when he does finally give in to his curiosity, he tells himself it's for everyone's good - she's taken in the Light, but she doesn't give any of them much of an idea of whether she's suffering for it. Looking in on her when she's alone just gives him a better idea of whether she needs help. So much is riding on her health and safety, he tells himself. He must do what he must to assure she's coping properly.
If he lingers occasionally, watching her clean her armor or curl up on her bed with a book, it's just because he's tired, losing focus, not because he's cataloging the curve of her jaw, or noting the rise and fall of her chest as she breathes. And besides, when he realizes he's doing it, he closes the image immediately. Usually. Most of the time.
He has thankfully managed to avoid looking in on her when she's less than fully clothed. Until now.
The thing is, they'd spent the afternoon alone together; he'd borrowed some books of Norvrandtian lore from Moren, knowing she'd expressed some interest in learning more about the history of Voeburt after her foray into Il Mheg. And maybe he'd gotten a little carried away with lecturing, given an apparently willing audience. But even if he'd talked too long, she'd given him the sweetest smile before she left, which made him feel much like the boy he once was, back when he first met her. The experience left him a little giddy, and it took him a while to tidy his study, so he's looking in on her a bit later than he otherwise would. As the mirror fires up, he even tells himself that he doesn't need to do this tonight, he already knows she seems to be just fine today. But, just a peek, he thinks, and then he'll let it go.
But the mirror's image flares to life, and he freezes. Because what he sees is his beautiful Warrior, spread out entirely naked on her bed.
He should shut it down now, the rational part of him whispers. Wipe the image, leave this room, go for a walk outside to cool down and forget this ever happened. He really, really should.
One of her hands comes up to cup a lush breast; her fingers pinch the nipple, and she makes the most amazing sound.
The Crystal Exarch has molded himself into a man of honor over the last century, a man with the strength to do whatever must be done, putting aside his own personal interests for the good of others. But fucking hell, even he has his limits.
Her hands slowly work her breasts in a way that tells him exactly how sensitive she is there. He can't help but memorize the spots where her breath catches, where she bites her lower lip and repeats her caress until her hips are writhing into the mattress. The movement turns his attention to her lower body, to the thick patch of curls at the juncture of her thighs, the way some of them already seem to glisten with a hint of moisture. She presses her thighs together for a long moment, then seems to purposely spread them apart, digging her heels into the mattress to anchor herself. Gods above, he wants nothing more in this moment than the chance to bury his face in the sweet wet core of her, to worship her as she so desperately deserves.
When one of her hands trails down her belly in search of her cunt, he braces his own hands on the mirror frame to keep himself from reaching into his robes to relieve himself. There has to be a boundary here, even a terrible, poorly drawn boundary.
There's no reason for him to study the movement of her fingers as carefully as he does; in no possible future will he have the opportunity to touch her in the way she's touching herself, so knowing what pleases her will only be a form of torture. But he studies all the same, watching the way she spreads her folds with two fingers, while a third circles the small nub at the apex of her sex. "Oh fuck," she whines aloud, her eyes drifting closed. "Fuck, please touch me."
Who is she talking to? Who does she imagine there behind her eyelids - who is the person lucky enough to have her desire, to be invited to touch her even when they're not there? Knowing would only bring him pain, that much is for certain. Because there is no way she's imagining a man whose face she's never seen - not that she knows of, anyway - a man who is responsible for the danger she and her friends are currently experiencing. And there's no way she's imagining a boy she knew for a matter of weeks, one who followed her around like an overeager puppy before sacrificing himself for an unknown greater good.
Whoever it is that she's pleading for, as her fingers concentrate on a very particular spot that makes her thighs shake, they are without a doubt the luckiest person that has ever lived on any of the fourteen known worlds.
She gives the smallest, sweetest gasp, and then she seizes, her back arching off the mattress as her body stiffens with the ultimate pleasure. The image sears itself onto his very soul. It will torture him for what little time he has left, he knows - not a day will pass without remembering what she looks like right now, in this moment. He's an awful person for witnessing this, for drinking it in without her knowledge, but it will be his secret, one to add to all the rest he's been carrying. At least this one will warm him when his crystal limbs provide a phantom, aching reminder of what he's given up to be here.
She collapses back onto the bed and struggles to even her breathing again. The smile she wears is so utterly satisfied, it takes his own breath away for a moment. "I wish you were here," she whispers, so softly he barely hears her.
Now, finally, he wipes the mirror clean. Whoever the object of her wish is, he only hopes they appreciate their luck half as much as he would in their shoes.
He's so hard that moving causes him pain, but he makes himself stand straight and head to the outer door - not to his own chambers. His robes will hide his shame, and the cool evening air should calm him. He doesn't deserve his own release tonight. He'll walk outside until he has a hold of his reactions, and then work the rest of the night. And he won't look in on her again after this, he promises himself. He swears it.
By the time he's outside watching the still novel night sky, he even half believes it.
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thefreelanceangel · 3 years
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If your muse had been attacked by a sin eater and knew they’d eventually turn into one themself, what would they do?
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In all truth, sin-eaters are the one thing that genuinely frightens Summer. Other terrors seem like fascinating creatures or exotic oddities to her, considering she faced very few of them while growing up in Il Mheg.
Sin-eaters, however... Those are truly the things of nightmares to Summer.
Wholly aware of what the Light can do, Summer's path would be clear and simple. She would ensure her One True Love™ could return to Eorzea as Il Mheg isn't exactly his natural environment. With Kona safely away from her mischievous family, Summer would make the rounds of Il Mheg to say goodbye to everyone she loved.
And then she would quietly ask Titania to turn her into a leafman, saving her from the agonizing transformation into a sin-eater and ensuring that at least part of her was able to stay in her beloved home.
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karoiseka · 4 years
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#15 Ache
((Dialogue in the first part is snagged directly for the most part from the game, but the rest tis mine own.  Pretty much just a re-hash of emotions and extra tid-bits of lore of what Karo was doing with all of this.  This got a little more away from me that I thought, but I’m happy with it. ^_^  Obviously, MAJOR 5.3 spoilers!!!))
“I concede, I may have over-exerted myself,” G’raha gasped a little from the Tower’s floor where he had fallen after defeating Elidibus.  Karo’s heart was racing--not only from the battle she had just finished, the adrenaline singing in her veins, but from the final goodbye of her--well, whatever Elidibus was to her now.  Now, the one that held her heart was transforming before her very eyes into a part of the very Tower that was so instrumental to them both.
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“Steady now, and listen.  I told you before that I had a plan, and that when all was said and done, I would ask a favor of you.”  The Bard maneuvered herself beside him, sitting him up and holding his now both crystal hands in her own that desperately were clutching the spirit vessel.  “We have averted the Eight Umbral Calamity.  Found a way for everyone to return to the Source, and… last but not least, we have secured the future of all the people of Norvrandt.  We have won, my love.”  He was squeezing her hands gently, eyes shining, even when gasping for breath as she could watch the crystal creeping over his body slowly.  He reached up to run his fingers gently down her cheek, cupping her face and leaning against her forehead.
“So I hope you’ll forgive me this moment of selfishness.  And… while I wouldn’t want you to feel obliged…” Karo snorted and cut him off with a kiss before letting him continue.  He smiled against her lips and continued on, “Promise me you’ll take me on your next adventure.  A journey.�� Together.  That’s all I ask.”  Karo’s voice caught in her throat as tears pricked the corners of her eyes.
“Raha--” her voice cracked as she took a deep breath.  “Of course--you know that’s all I’ve wanted as well,”  nuzzling his ears he sighed contentedly as she continued to try and hold back all the emotion she was feeling.
“If I were to tell you that this isn’t the end--that we will meet again--would you believe me?”  His voice was soft, but insistent and confident that he spoke true despite what was in front of their eyes.
“I have to--” whispered almost too soft for him to hear, she nevertheless looked him in the eyes and nodded her agreement.
“Thank you.”  He nodded once as well and released his hold of his shining star to pull his hood up one last time--though thankfully not hiding his face away from her.  She scowled at the look, but stepped back to let him get to his feet, somehow knowing this was something he needed to do for himself.  His spirit vessel, the brilliant red portion already glowing clutched in her hand, she watched and listened as he found a spot to stand.  He knew this was it as the crystal crept up even further along him--robe and all.
“My love.  With you, my mind and memories shall travel to the ends of the world and beyond.  But in this place shall my body stand immovable.  May it serve as an undying promise, not only to those who looked to me for leadership, but to any soul who has known despair, that hope is everlasting.”   G’raha Tia planted his staff firmly, Xande’s throne towering behind him.  One last time, Karo threw her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, cupping the back of his head as they shared what they knew was one last moment here on the First.  Stepping back finally she took a deep breath and held out the spirit vessel.  It was time.  As she looked down it started to glow, burning from the inside with an intense light and Aether she could practically feel.  Sapphire eyes raced up to meet his ruby--now glossy as the husk smiled blankly as the crystal finally overtook him.
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Her own feet planted barely two fulms from his own, she curled her entire upper body around the warm spirit vessel, holding it to her heart.  It pulsed warmly against her as she took gulping breaths, trying to come to terms at least enough to step away.  Not much longer, she could hear the frantic footfalls of her found family and shouts of her and G’raha’s names echoing from the doorway to the tower.  The scions skidded to a stop behind her as they saw the Crystal Exarch--now the truest description of his name with the Warrior of Light and Darkness still at vigil in front of him.  Thancred was the first of the Scions to let go of his shock, and went to Karoiseka, wrapping himself around her from behind.  He could finally see the spirit vessel glowing in her grasp from his vantage and a deep sigh of relief escaped his lips.
“We’ve got you kitten--and you’ve got him.”  Karo finally spun around and let her tears fall as she let Thancred hold her up as she sobbed into his jacket.  Her heart ached, but she had to keep hope--that hope that he gave her that she cradled so carefully.
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The bright stars of Amh Araeng beat down on Karo’s head.  She had finished visiting with Alisaie and Haldric, and had hurried down to Nabaath Areng before Thancred and Ryne got there.  She wanted to allow them their own time, but also had wanted to share the site of her last conversation with Mifillia with G’raha.  Scouting from above  she didn’t see the pair so she landed her borrowed Amaro in the shade of the flood.  Alisaie had a good idea of giving Raha a last tour of the First--maybe take him to a place or two he hadn’t been before.  He had always expressed interest in seeing the frozen wall of the flood up close, the sparkling wall looking almost like ice above the desert.
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“Haldric is getting better,” Karo narrated to the crystal in her hand as she walked the platform where she had said goodbye.  “The empty is not quite as empty, and people are feeling the joy of the night’s sky.  Your hope is contagious even out here, m’love.”  Kneeling at the center of the circle she said a prayer--for those they had lost and for those they could yet save.  A smile danced across her lips as the wind whipped around her in a warm embrace, skittering off across the dunes.  Time to take to the sky once more and head to Eulmore where Alphinaud was certain to be getting a teary goodbye.  
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Having said her own goodbyes to the Chai family and promised to see Alphy back in the Crystarium, she looked out onto the water from the cliff high above the city.  It wasn’t far from the place she had found G’raha napping before storming Mt. Gulg and talked about the adventure that she was now starting with him.
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“It’s a shame you came here really only to berate Vauthry.  The city isn’t too bad now that they’re working on turning things around,”  The sky was clear and Karo realized she was scanning the horizon for Ardbert’s home island.  She could feel him laugh at her, knowing that it was well out of eye site range, yet tinged with a feeling of affection for thinking of him nonetheless.  Turning, pretending to be miffed at her Warrior soul, she continued to chat with Raha.  “You talked about riding the Eternal Wind here on this very cliff, and soon we shall fly across them back home.  Then the true adventure will start,” her blue-black hair was being whipped by the wind making her crystal hair tassels chime as she clung to that hope as her soul pulsed in an embrace lending her strength to carry on.  Beneath the waves she knew she had to dive before going to find Uriangier in the home of the pixies.
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Waves crashing high above her head was the only sound in the depths besides her own footsteps echoing in Amaurot’s halls.  Occasionally she’d see one of his shades gliding on to one purpose or another, but she let the star-lit trees and arches light a random path as she wove the streets aimlessly.
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“You didn’t get to see much of the city, did you?” rhetorical as the question was, she knew that Emet--Hades--had kept his prize locked up away from where she could have stumbled across him before she turned into the Lightwarden he thought she would.  It had been a near thing looking back, nearer than she liked admitting.  Phantom hand on her shoulder, she could feel Ardbert’s solidarity with her.  I told you I cast my lot with yours.  We’re a team, hero- the whispered voice in her soul made her smile as she held Raha’s vessel to her heart once more.  “We saved you though, Raha, and you saved me in return.  I’ll paint a picture as vivid as can be when I spin this song for you, the one I have yet to write to remember than they once lived.  We all have to remember....” and hope continued to blossom in her heart.
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Flowers waltzed around the wide meadows of Il Mheg and Karo walked up the pathway to the castle.  She had the sense to know whatever it was her Elezan friend had to say, that she probably wasn’t going to be in the mood for sight-seeing after.  Instead she decided to visit her Branch and let her say goodbye to G’raha as well.  The gigantic glowing wings of the castle sparkled in the sun and the stained glass windows glowed from within even in the middle of the day.  The city below was so clear under the water it was hard to remember that it wasn’t occupied by more than fish and Fuath.  
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“Thank you for introducing me to Fe Ul,” a smile broke out thinking of how innocent that first meeting was in the markets of the Crystarium.  “As much as I kept forgetting to call on them, they always had a knack of getting me out of some of the worst trouble here,” Karo’s thoughts went back to the watchtower and the suggestion to learn more of the Crystal Exarch from the people he led. “Gonna have to try and keep this quick before Uri wonders where we are.”  With a theatrical spin and hope in her voice she shouted out to her Branch calling on them once more.
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She had been right to do their goodbyes in Il Mheg before talking to Uriangier and Seto.  In a daze of overwhelmed emotions she had wandered into Slitherbough, and like the magic she wielded, Y’shtola renewed her energy with her antics with Runar..  Wishing the Hrothgar good luck, Karo wandered to the swamps edge before diving in again.  The ruins at the bottom of the lake were a good distraction for her historian, and she slowly pointed them out and their meanings one by one of the old Ronkan Empire.  Excitement rejuvenated, she then took him to the Raval and took in the murals of Amaurot, Hydaelyn and Zodiark once more.
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“Wish you could have heard all our shock when he dropped that piece of information on us,” her sarcastic laugh echoed through the caverns.  “I think you saw enough of it when we relayed it back to you though, we couldn’t get back to the Tower fast enough.”  With one last contemplative look at the murals, she gave a nod, hope filling her voice again.
“Alright, enough of that, back to Ahm Araeng, we need to find Thancred and Ryne.  It’s time to go home.”
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The Crystarium markets were abuzz as Karo picked up the trinket she had ordered from the jeweler.  She could tell the people of the city knew something was going on with all the Scions back in town, and word about what had happened with their Exarch.  There was just enough time for her to head back to her Pendants room and imbue it with the spell she had planned.  The spell required her to sing, and so she pulled out her harp and sat down at the edge of the window and after activating the first part of the spell with a tendril of aether, started to sing.  The song was one of hope, of the man from another world who had turned this new one into his home, caring for its people and leading them towards a better tomorrow.  Singing with all her heart and soul the sun slowly drew across the sky as she continued with every song of hope and inspiration she could remember.  Out of repertoire finally, she closed the second part of the spell and picked up the glowing pendant shaped like her harp.  She packed up her bags, shouldering them and headed back to the Tower.  Sneaking around the gathering, she headed up the stairs to the platform where she left her voice enveloping the crystalline form of the one who held her heart.  Hope surrounded them both as the ache in her heart finally melted away, and she headed down to bring them all home at last.
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efrmellifer · 4 years
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FFxivWrite ‘20, Thirty
Prompt: Splinter, post-5.3 (free of actual spoilers), 1,678 words
It was much more fun to go when her return was guaranteed, Etien was realizing. In the past, heading out the door and to the rift (when she didn’t just go by aether) had been like marching to the gallows, setting herself up for an interminable separation from hearth and home (and husband).
But not so this time. She would be home same as if she’d gone to Gridania for the day. She might stay a little longer than she would have in Gridania, but the concept was the same.
Well. Time to stop dithering about it. She sat up, peeling the covers back only as far as she could to get herself out from under them while keeping Aymeric covered, and slipped from the bed. She dressed, buttoning herself into her new, patently Ishgardian clothing, and then turned back to the bed, settling half her weight on the mattress so she could lean down and kiss Aymeric’s forehead, followed by pressing her lips to the corner of his mouth.
“I’m heading out for the day,” she murmured to him. “I’ll be back, hopefully by nightfall.”
Aymeric hummed, sleepily acknowledging what Etien had told him, but she knew he wasn’t going to remember it when he was fully awake, so she scrawled a note for him—Went out, be back later today. I love you. -Etien—and left it in her place on the bed.
Instead of heading right to the Aetheryte in Foundation, she elected to head out across the Steps of Faith first, plucking apples from the trees.
As she dodged a falling drift of snow, she remembered the plan to plant Pixie apple trees in the Vault’s gardens. She still wanted to do that, but it would be unfair to ask for more seeds without bringing something in return. So...mirror apples. Though it was easy to say that it was simply to better facilitate the free exchange of horticulture between Il Mheg and Ishgard, Etien knew that wasn’t the full depth of her reasoning for gathering a rather hefty helping of the apples, feeling each for firmness.
These were going to be a gift, primarily, not an instrument of trade. She could only hope that meaning was going to be clear. But then, to the fae, even little things could mean the world. That was a side effect of them living so firmly planted in the moment, she supposed. They repaid what was given, absolutely, but your removing their splinter could be repaid with them dragging you off death’s doorstep. Freeing the trapped king, poisoned with light, earned you their assistance fighting hordes, whenever they had the will to help.
The sapling did her best to feed the branch, and the branch benefited their sapling.
With a sackful of apples, she was ready to make her journey. She wanted, now that she thought a little more about it, a wider selection of fruits, but she was trying to strike a balance between bringing a generous gift and actually getting to spend time in Il Mheg, which she wouldn’t if she kept running around gathering.
She decided time there was more important. Especially when she wanted to do things right this time.
She’d cried, while soaring across Il Mheg’s skies before her departure, at the very thought of leaving Feo Ul behind. And while she’d called for them in Eulmore to say a quick goodbye to the sweet splinter of her dear friend, it hadn’t done much in the way of closure.
Etien was going to give them a proper goodbye at the end of this visit.
She arrived at Lydha Lran, and the first thing she heard was a gasp.
“She’s back!” Tyr Beq cried out. A whisper rippled through a few other pixies present.
“Someone inform the king!” And off went a streak of green, headed for Lyhe Ghiah.
“Well, come on!” The pixies goaded, shepherding Etien down the path to the castle. “You’ve been missed, you know,” Thon Sul informed her.
“I’m glad to hear that. And sorry I left so suddenly. When Urianger was ready to depart, I was more or less run off my feet.”
“You don’t need to apologize to us,” Ys Iala commented. Then their gaze lifted. “Your majesty.”
“Feo!” Etien called, slightly tense as she waited for the cries asking how she could be so cold and cruel and heartless.
She had done her best, but she would completely understand if it hadn’t been enough.
So the sunny smile she got from her Pixie friend was warming and disarming both.
“Oh, my sapling, I was wondering if I would ever see you again after Eulmore.”
“If only I had actually gotten to talk to you and the others here,” Etien said, looking a little sheepish. “I’m sorry I didn’t.”
“Nonsense!” With the end of a long fingernail, they tipped Etien’s chin upwards. “We all got to play with the specters, and I saw how quickly you were made to gather your things. You left this in your room at the Pendants.” They handed over a leather-bound book.
“Oh!” Etien took it, slipping it into her bag. “I had been wondering why I couldn’t find it. Thank you.”
“So what brought you all the way back to Il Mheg, Etien?”
“A few things. I wanted to see you, and actually give you the closure you deserved, if that was something you were looking for. But I also brought you apples from Ishgard!” She reached into the sack, pulling out the largest of the bunch.
She handed it to Feo, laughing at how small the fruit was in the king’s hands compared to hers, and then handed the others from the bag to the other Pixies.
“I should have brought some for the Nu Mou,” She said, cocking a hip as she crinkled her nose.
“No, they would just say that they owed you some sort of service after that.”
Etien laughed, listening to the crunching all around her of the Pixies biting into the apples.
Feo Ul handed the apple back, and Etien grabbed her knife, slicing off a piece. When Feo settled on her shoulder, in their smaller form again, she handed the slice to them, hearing their crunching all the louder, so near to her ear.
They ate the apple slowly, and in between slices, Etien played a few songs. After all, they’d only heard the militant music before.
There were a few smatterings of applause as the Pixies came and went between songs, and when the flesh of the fruit was gone, she encouraged Feo Ul to keep the apple’s core.
“That way, we can trade seeds! I wanted to ask for some Pixie appleseeds.”
“And of course you shall have them,” Feo told her. “Is that all you would have to remember Il Mheg?”
Etien blinked. “Well nothing is better than the memories. Is there something you want me to take? I wouldn't decline a memento, I just don’t want to take something I’m not welcome to.” She was quiet as she waited for the Pixie’s reply, though her mind turned over how greatly she would enjoy a piece of Il Mheg growing in Coerthas, in the Vault no less. It would make the visits she and Aymeric took into the gardens there all the more enjoyable, that was sure.
Feo lifted themselves off Etien’s shoulder, flying into Lyhe Ghiah again for a moment, and when they returned, they handed over a bundle of clothing. “We worked for a few days and nights on these, and you know how hard that would be for us. Wear them and think of us?”
Etien looked down at the apparel, the airy material in shades of light purple, and then looked back up to Feo.
“We couldn’t find the shade of blue you like, but you like purple, right?”
Her eyes welled. “I do. I’d be honored to wear these. Thank you.”
They returned her smile, though there was a bit of a sadness to the expression. The setting sun cast long shadows and lent both of them a redder hue to counteract their mood turning slowly more blue.
“Oh!” Etien said suddenly. She dug in the band of her flower crown, slowly dragging out one of the blue flowers, stem, bloom, and all. “I don’t know if it’ll take in this soil, especially after being preserved so I could keep wearing it, but… maybe it would help if there was a little of my blue remaining in Il Mheg?”
Feo took the flower with both hands. “I can certainly try to cultivate it.” They paused. “It’s getting late. Your knight will be looking for you, won’t he?”
“Most likely. So I guess I had better… go.” Her voice wasn’t much louder than whisper, weighed down by coming tears.
“This won’t be goodbye forever, Etien,” they assured her, with a gentle hand on her cheek. “You’ll always be welcome in Il Mheg. And there’s always the realm of dreams.”
She nodded, sniffling already.
“Oh, my sapling. You sweet, ephemeral flower. You mortals care so deeply, knowing not what the future holds and wanting nothing to change within it. Know that I will always be here, whenever you want to see me.”
Etien reached out, carefully pulling Feo Ul toward her, then cradling them in a hug. “Thank you, Feo. Your majesty. For everything. Always.”
“What else does a branch do for the sapling?” They replied. Etien released them. “Now. Go home, and be at ease. It was good to see you. Farewell. For now.”
Etien nodded again, wiping at her eyes as she started back to Lydha Lran.
The sun had just dipped below the horizon as she ascended the steps toward the Pillars. Home by nightfall.
_
When next the flowers blossomed in Il Mheg, there was a patch of blue Gerbera daisies amongst the rolling hills of pink.
Years down the line, a Pixie apple tree would bear fruit in the Vault, ready for revelry and rejoicing. Every branch was tended to as a dear friend.
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arthachbroin · 4 years
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So, TFW you find a ship ask meme and decide to fill it out for Brona/Emet anyway because you’re that starved for ship talk. Most of it’ll go below the cut! (source)
ULTIMATE SHIP MEME!
General:
Rate the Ship -   Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs
How long will they last? - A long time, one hopes!
How quickly did/will they fall in love? - Brona started crushing the moment Emet showed up after Il Mheg, and by the time Mt. Gulg rolled around she was hopelessly in love. Emet had a lot more issues to work through, and even if he found himself attracted to her, there was the whole “Kore” thing to deal with and also the tempering. But the feelings were there, if complicated, and it was only after he (hopefully) comes back that he was truly able to reciprocate entirely.
How was their first kiss? - It was right before the conversation at the Ladder, and pretty desperate and passionate and full of pent-up want and need on both ends, though for different reasons. Their second was a lot softer and sadder, and halfway a goodbye.
Wedding:
Who proposed? - Emet, because Brona is a bit insecure at times and probably wouldn’t think he’d say yes, so Emet would do it and then Brona would cry and say yes.
Who is the best man/men? - Lahabrea I MEAN UH. Aside from him I can’t think of anyone on Emet’s end, so possibly Urianger? He’s who Brona is closest to in the Scions. Or Bran, male WoL friendo!
Who is the bridesmaid(s)? - WoL friend Lulu, probably, and the rest of the lady WoLs in Brona’s squad. Any of the girl Scions who want in, too. Probably Ryne!
Who did the most planning? - Emet, because he’s into that kind of thing and he wants to spoil the shit out of Brona, and he’s also probably a little bit controlling in a harmless way?
Who stressed the most? - Emet is definitely a bit nervous, but Brona and her insecurities probably end up screaming internally until it actually happens.
How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.
Not crazy over the top, no, but you try telling me that Emet wouldn’t go at least a little ham. He’s ridiculously theatrical and a former emperor several times over, after all. If he wants to spoil his wife he’s going to. Brona’s a little flustered, but appreciates it.
Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Well, I mean, Elidibus probably. 
Sex:
Who is on top? - Brona, most of the time. Emet likes to let others take the lead, but sometimes he’ll take his turn because she deserves to be spoiled sometimes. 
Who is the one to instigate things? - Both of them, they’re horrible.
How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now
They’re not constantly at it, no, but...pretty often. Very healthy sex life, they enjoy it and it’s nice for both of them.
How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head
Not aggressively Weird, but oooh definitely a bit kinky. Emet is very experienced and very much one for experimenting and Brona, though she hasn’t done much before in comparison, is very interested in trying things.
How long do they normally last? - I DON’T KNOW HOW SEX WORKS I DON’T KNOW HOW TO ANSWER THIS ONE.
Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - Oh yes, Emet likes to make sure Brona is happy and satisfied, and Brona’s used to making sure her partners are satisfied before she is, so together they end up pretty even.
How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.
They don’t get that crazy rough, but they are both definitely at least a little rough together. Emet doesn’t like it that violent, but he does like it a bit rough, and Brona...finds she’s pretty good at delivering, and she enjoys it.
How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.
They’re awful. Terrible. Brona’s insecurities and the fact that she almost lost him forever just after falling for him, and Emet being--- well, with everything he’s dealt with, they’re both more than a little clingy and affectionate with one another.
Children:
How many children will they have naturally? - Two, twins, once everything is over for good and they have the time and space--- it’s an accident, though, and they panic a little because of more than a few reasons, but Brona wants to be a mom so badly and they keep them. Their names are Morgan (the girl) and Gawain (the boy).
How many children will they adopt? - None officially, but they’re fussy with their friends’ kids, definitey.
Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - Emet, because Brona’s very good at bribing him.
Who is the stricter parent? - Brona by a little bit, they both have a bad habit of spoiling their kids rotten because they’re just so overwhelmed with love and the fact that they have babies.
Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Emet is far more overprotective because babies with baby souls, but Brona’s fussy, too. Though Emet is also more likely to enable Shenanigans.
Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Brona definitely is better at remembering little things like that.
Who is the more loved parent? - Oh, the twins adore both their parents, but Emet just a little more sometimes because he’s more of an enabler for the crazy stuff.
Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? - Brona. We don’t trust Emet doing that kind of thing, he’s not allowed to start up with other parents, he would be the worst.
Who cried the most at graduation? - Both of them would be messes.
Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Brona, if just because Emet is 50/50 chance that he’s in trouble with them.
Cooking:
Who does the most cooking? - Brona, mostly because Emet is used to either not eating, Creating food for himself, or not cooking because Emperor. Not that he doesn’t know how, he’s just used to not and would forget.
Who is the most picky in their food choice? - Emet does trend towards being a little more picky, but both of them aren’t that bad.
Who does the grocery shopping? - Brona, for sure.
How often do they bake desserts? - Often! Emet is very much a sweet tooth, and Brona would happily oblige.
Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - Well, my heacanon is that Emet only really eats seafood meat-wise, no red meat or poultry (don’t ask why, it’s just one of Those hcs), so he’s a bit picky there, but otherwise both of them are pretty much in the middle.
Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Emet, definitely. He likes big grand romantic gestures.
Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Emet, again. Spoil Brona rotten, that’s his modus operandi.
Who is more likely to burn the house down accidentally while cooking? - Neither one of them are that bad.
Chores:
Who cleans the room? - Brona, probably, Emet can be a little lazy sometimes.
Who is really against chores? - Emet. Why bother??? He can just snap the mess away, come on, does he haaaave to? Also he’s definitely a little used to other people doing them.
Who cleans up after the pets? - Most of Brona’s pets are seedkin, so she keeps them taken care of, but if they get anything else that’s on Emet so they’re his responsibility, dang it.
Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Emet, definitely, the lazy butt.
Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Neither one of them are really stressy about guests, mostly.
Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Emet because he’s a nosy little shit, too.
Misc:
Who takes the longer showers/baths? - Emet, oh my god, he’s horrible, he loves long hot baths, the shit. He enjoys the finer things in life because it takes the edge off, and that includes hot baths.
Who takes the dog out for a walk? - They don’t have any pets that require walkies, really, but Emet loves cute shit so he’ll probably spoil Brona’s friends’ pets if they let him.
How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - Brona isn’t crazy into the holidays, but Emet hasn’t celebrated Eorzean holidays before, and he gets a kick out of them, so he’s definitely very much the one that gets into it.
What are their goals for the relationship? - Mutual healing from their traumas, and just...enjoy the time they have with each other. Show one another they’re loved and cherished for who they are, that they deserve to be loved.
Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - Emet, no question.
Who plays the most pranks? - They love teasing each other with little silly things, so both of them, and they’re equally likely to start it. 
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twilight-red-mage · 5 years
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With Shadowbringers arriving so soon, I thought I’d say a little goodbye to my favorite Stormblood zone, which I will be missing dearly.
What about everyone else? Which Stormblood zone will keep a special place in your heart, and which Shadowbringers zone excites you the most? I’m looking forward to Il Mheg myself!
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alandeathweaver · 5 years
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entry 24
3年10月...I’m not certain. (7AE) 
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Well...I have been called.
To the First, the first reflection of our world, Arb--- Ardbert’s world. Poor man, poor shade, he is all that is left of them, branded a villain for causing the Flood when he didn’t...ah, but I digress. He is watching, my poor friend. Tied to Bran’s aether, I think. Interesting.
But no...we are here on the First to destroy the sin eaters --- like Voidsent, but with light --- and save it from a Calamity, and in so doing save ours from the same. Urianger-dono had a vision when he was brought here, of...of such a thing, the Black Rose, and my death. Our deaths, the Warriors. We must prevent that, so we fight here. Though I’m still going to strangle G’raha-san--- for it is him, our Crystal Exarch, even if he remembers it not from his long sleep. Thancred has been here five years thanks to the oddities of time! Urianger-dono and Y’shtola-san three, and the twins one. And in spirit, they are trapped. Held hostage unintentionally for my heroics. We must get them home. I must save this world, and then my own.
I went to fetch Alphinaud-dono, first, from the island Kholusia and the decadent city of Eulmore. A disgusting place, though the people are...childish, sweet and naive. Their leader is a monster, though, controlling the sin eaters and feeding people to them in the name of his ‘paradise, keeping all these people like pets in a gilded cage while the poor outside suffer. We’ll be back there soon enough to deal with it; in the meantime...ah, we’ll have to help them. After that I went to fetch Alisaie-dono in Ahm Araeng, the desert nearest where the Flood was stopped --- a hundred of their years ago, by the sacrifices of Ardbert-san’s friends, and...and Minfilia-dono --- and found that the sin eaters can infect people and turn them to one of their own. Can voidsent do so? Was that...Nero...? I saw--- I saw someone turn, and to think--- oh, kami, poor Alisaie-dono, she liked that girl...and that fate, to think that might have been what the Voidsent--- kami. Oh, kami. It’s horrifying. But...we must stop it. We have to. No more pain like that.
I returned with the twins to the Crystarium, and then immediately rushed to a town called Holminster Switch; there we put to the proof what G’raha-san said of the way to deal with the threat: there are masters of the sin eaters, the strongest of them, the Lightwardens--- to kill them is to destroy their hold over the area they call their domain and chase away their lessers...and of course, thanks to the blessing, only us Warriors can do so. And so we returned the night to Lakeland and the Crystarium, and...we are Warriors of Darkness. One only wishes I can credit Ardbert with these deeds, but they know his name as villain...a shame. His spirit watches and it would do his heart good.
And then we find Eulmore, of course, condemns our deeds--- declares war on the Crystarium should they support us. Of course...they will support us. And through that did I find out Minfilia-dono’s fate. The Oracle of Light gave her life a hundred years ago that the Flood might be stopped. But after that, she is reincarnated sans her memories over and over, drafted into Eulmore’s army willingly or not, and forced to fight due to her blessing. The one we know now, a little girl, was prisoner rather than soldier, until three years ago--- Thancred rescued her, of course. She was captured again, and the Crystarium banded together to rescue her (and Thancred, knowing him).
I write this in a guest room in the home in Il Mheg Urianger-dono has...borrowed for his own use these past years, as we did rescue little Minfilia-chan, and fled here to meet with our old friend and to deal with the Lightwarden in this area...it is the land of the fae folk, and the pixies are, ah. Something. Children eternal, with magic and very capricious natures. Urianger-dono does well here somehow, though he clearly hurts a great deal, fears a great deal from the future he foresaw (a horrible one). Though it is not him I fear for. I fear for Thancred. He spoke to his Minfilia-dono, our Minfilia-dono, one final time here, and she…she bade him let the little one choose whether to give her body up or live her own life. Thancred must--- he must prepare to say goodbye forever. I do not think he ever wanted to, and I can see in his eyes both a sort of mixed love and resentment for the little one, and...that he does not know how to carry on once he fulfills what she asked of him.
I fear for him. I do not...I see myself in that, the broken girl who lost her lady so long ago. I don’t want to see him do what I nearly did. But what can we do when he doesn’t speak of it, when it is so clear in his eyes and his words but--- well. Tomorrow we speak to the pixies and deal with the Lightwarden, no doubt, but--- that is the least of my worries. I have killed many things, it is not hard, and I have little doubt we will prevail against the sin eaters and stop this calamity. I fear more for my friends. But...we will see. One day at a time.
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efrmellifer · 4 years
Text
Egress
Morning came, and the generous farewell process began. Etien looked like the night had been rough on her, her hair a series of tangled filaments rather than curls, the covers tight around her like she’d been tossing and turning.
Aymeric smoothed back a few stray hairs from Etien’s forehead, followed by pressing his lips to the unobscured skin. “Etien? You have to get up. We both do.”
She startled, just a little, but settled into a sigh and a stretch as she woke more fully and recognized who it was speaking to her. “Already?” she asked, fingers curling and straightening. Even through the stretch, there was a tint of sadness in her tone.
“Unfortunately,” Aymeric confirmed. “But that means little now. I would see you properly prepared before you set off.”
Etien gave a little sigh. “I think I would appreciate that.”
She sat up, and Aymeric followed, the both of them trying to shake off the last vestiges of sleep.
“First things first,,” Aymeric said, reaching for a comb. “Come here, and let me get those little tangles out. Were you uncomfortable in your sleep?”
“Not that I can remember,” Etien replied, getting into a more comfortable position so she could sit still while Aymeric combed her hair.  She tipped her head back into his hands when the comb’s teeth hit her scalp, silently enjoying the gentle tug on her scalp as he worked.
“Well, if not, that is curious, because you look a mess. Still radiant, of course, but your hair--” he hit a particularly tight and complex knot, and Etien hissed-- “mine apologies, dearest. But your hair is in a state, and your clothing looked surprisingly rumpled. And not in a pleasant way.”
Etien laughed a little at the clarification, trying to straighten out her clothing. “Well, I’m sorry to worry you.”
“I would have worried regardless,” he sighed. “However, it is good to hear that you weren’t suffering in your sleep.”
When he was finished combing her hair, Aymeric left Etien so she could dress and gather her things, and he headed to the kitchen to make sure he could send her off with a good meal in her belly.
He was lost in the act of the cooking, not hearing or seeing Etien come into the kitchen, even when she stood, watching him with a keen and loving eye.
That is, he didn’t see her until he turned, jumping with the shock. “How long have you been there?” he demanded.
“Not long?” her ears flattened as her gaze left him. “I just like watching you. And I won’t get to look at you for a while…”
Aymeric sighed. “I take no issue with you watching me. I was merely surprised.” He kissed her forehead as he passed her with her plate. “Grab that cup for me, would you, dearest?”
She lifted the teacup, following him to the dining room.
When she sat, Aymeric slid the plate in front of her. “Finish it, if you can. I want to make sure that you’ve eaten plenty with this last opportunity I have to ensure it.”
She smiled up at him. “Thank you. I doubt I’ll have much of a problem plowing my way through this.”  With that, she lifted her fork, digging into the plate of food before her, broken up with sips of the tea.  
When she was finished, she pushed back from the table, sighing. “This was wonderful, just like it always is. But… I better not dawdle.”
“Is it better that way?” Aymeric asked, sadness coloring his voice more than he’d intended to.
Etien’s eyebrows lifted in a mix of amusement and something near heartache. “Darling. If I don’t go, I won’t go. If it makes you feel better, I don’t think it’s better.”
She came to his side, picking up his hand and kissing over the web of veins.
“It does, just a little,” he assured her. “But you are correct. Do what you must, and you shall have my support.”
“Please don’t think this doesn’t hurt,” she whispered. “I’m doing my best to imagine instead the joy we can feel when it ends.”
“Ever the optimist. If only I could be more like you.”
Etien laughed, leaning down just a touch to cup Aymeric’s cheeks and give him a kiss. “As though I don’t look up to you as a shining example.”
He rose from the table too, giving her several kisses in succession, each one placed between strings of words with which he was attempting to give her a proper goodbye.
“I shall think of you every day,” a kiss, “and write when I can,” another kiss, “—promise me you will too?” one more kiss, “until my pining for you is brought to—” a deeper kiss— “its proper end.” He gave her one more kiss, cradling her entire body so they could lean into each other.
“I love you, Etien. Please remember that until I can say it to you directly again.”
“Of course I will,” she said, tears sliding along her lower eyelids. “Make sure you don’t forget how much I love you either, all right, darling?”
He almost laughed. “Naturally. Now, pray do not let me tempt you any longer.”
Etien nodded slowly, but gave in to one last temptation, her fist balling in Aymeric’s shirt to pull him down for one last kiss before she was out the door.
Il Mheg didn’t have the same feeling of home that Ishgard (and a few other places on the Source) did, but it did make her feel welcome and at ease.
Still, already the sting of being separated from her home and husband was setting in. She walked the petal-laden pathways with a slight sullenness, until a familiar streak of orange made its way into her line of sight.
“My precious sapling, you look so sad! Surely nothing so awful has happened now that there are no Lightwardens left to plague Norvrandt?”
Etien smiled, embarrassed. “It’s nothing so serious, Feo.”
“Then what has you so lost?”
With Feo Ul floating so near her eye level, Etien had to tell the truth. Or at least, part of it. “I just came back from the Source,” she told them, embarrassment only becoming more evident.
Feo Ul gave a knowing hum. “Fear not! No need for tears or listless wandering! I will of course faithfully carry your letters to and fro so it can be as though you never left each other’s company.”
Etien smiled more genuinely, perking up again. “Thank you, Feo. So much. You certainly are a generous king.”
“Only to support a couple so clearly in love,” they pressed with a giggle.
Etien’s blush returned. “I don’t know how to repay that.”
“Consider it a volunteer position to keep myself entertained,” they enthused, “or as thanks for the joy you bring to Il Mheg when you visit. The fae repay what is received, you know.”
Etien settled down in a patch of flowers, pulling out her stationery set with a laugh. “You ready for the first letter?”
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efrmellifer · 4 years
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Ancient Words
Etien went out dressed in her hat and gardening boots and a plush velvet coatee in a sunny yellow—not entirely an appropriate outfit for Ishgard, for a variety of reasons. Firstly, the yellow stuck out against the blacks and grays and the occasional soft pinks of the clothing people wore as they crossed the stones (so did the blue she’d taken to wearing, but at least people were used to that). A little more importantly were the flashes of exposed flesh visible below Etien’s shorts and over the tops of her stockings.
Not a good outfit for braving the chill. But it was fine, she only needed to make it to the Aetheryte.
When she arrived at her destination in the North Shroud, glad of an environment more suited to her clothes, she took a deep breath.
Oh, she’d wandered the Shroud—recently, even. She was familiar with these locales, with the plants she could harvest and the wildlife she could see.
But she always had been. And today, she did not walk these paths as Eorzea’s hero, or as a humble botanist seeking to do some logging and gathering. She wore the clothing of one, of course, but it functioned as a disguise this time.
Because this time, she was walking a path all too familiar.
She was walking the path home.
Etien was acutely aware how calling the little house in Alder Springs “home” chafed. But then, even when she called Ishgard home, she hadn’t really settled there, though she hated to say so. Indeed, ever since she’d picked up and run off from here, she’d never really put roots down anywhere, had she? Constantly blowing through, leaving great change in her wake, but never getting to stay.
She might have loved Doma the way she loved Ishgard, if something had grabbed a hold of her the way the aftermath of the Dragonsong War had bound her to its key players.
But what would have snagged Etien, when her heart was held already?
Doma wasn’t the place for her, as much as she’d enjoyed her time there. She knew, greatly enjoyed the company of, her comrades who now called it home, but… she couldn’t.
Even Il Mheg, where she was friends with the ruler (well, come to think of it…), where the king was loyal to her in a completely different sense than fealty, where she had gathered wool and taken down bears and tasted of the sap and passed out from working so hard and sleeping so little—even The Kingdom of Rainbows, forever young, couldn’t keep her in its wings forever.
Whether it was where she was born, where she had been adopted and married into, or where she was seen as the most treasured ally, all had their hold on her, and yet when she was asked for her homeland, she answered “I’m chartered with Gridania.”
She had been shaking her head, mumbling and kicking rocks the whole way, getting another little scoff at herself. Some things didn’t change, no matter what happened in the years intervening.
She could see the house now, could see M’ertle hanging laundry and M’ynstrel heading inside, probably after a walk to fetch something. She stepped over to a tree, slicing into it “for sap” while she waited for the yard to clear out. She was going to look like an idiot, but better she be nothing but a foolish botanist than be recognized, called to as M’etien.
She played with a piece of bark that had chipped off into her hand.
It was strange, the things that scared her. She still dreamed about scars that weren’t hers, about waking up one day to a cold bed because her warmth against the chill had walked out on her, about Hydaelyn taking her up on the offer to sap her strength until Etien had no use, about being as alone as she had been the day she’d made her sojourn outward.
Her siblings were both inside the house now. Thank the Twelve.
She took out her scythe as she approached the house, stepping toward her mother’s garden, and slicing off a bunch of treasured roses. She lifted them to her nose, taking in the fragrance she hadn’t know she’d missed. Maybe she’d press them. Or give to Aymeric. Or press them and give them to Aymeric.
But now was the time to muster up every skill she’d learned in her youth, all her sneaking through the forest and everything she’d gained after leaving, how to be light on her feet in evasion.
She moved past windows, crouching low to the back of the house, until she found the familiar window.
She’d only had to sneak in like this once—she thought to herself “oh that was years ago,” and had to suppress her snort at how obvious that was—but she still remembered how to pop the hinge apart so the window opened in a way that she could get all the way through it. 
And then, Etien was sitting rather like a frog on the floor of her bedroom. She stood up, looking around. Nothing had changed, nothing had been moved.
It had, however, been dusted.
Her hands hovered at her sides, frozen, subconsciously stopping herself from touching anything.
Her things! Everything she’d had to leave behind all that time ago.
Before the rain of stars and the fights against gods and the tragedies and the love and the--
She felt like a completely different person from the kit who had slept in that bed, stared out this window. She felt… bigger. And it wasn’t the heels of her boots, those were flat. No, something had changed in her that she hadn’t noticed and now had no name for.
In any case, dawdling was going to get her caught, and the very thought of it made her breath catch in her chest (not even in her throat). So time was of the essence. She stepped to the bookshelf, scanning the titles.
They dusted in here. Every space was going to be noticed. But she’d come all this way. Let them think burglars did it. Hells, she’d break the window on her way out for it.
But for now… books. Etien slid her favorites, the most well-worn, from the shelf, looking them over before she slid them into her bag.
She felt the weight of each settling onto her joints as her bag filled. She laughed softly at it. The literal weight of the past on her shoulders.
She flipped open the cover of one title to see her name written in that tight-looped scrawl of her hand, a graceless “M’etien” designating to whom this book belonged. She closed the book and slipped it into the bag, too.
She was going to struggle to get out with any ease now, so she stopped grabbing her books off the shelves now.
This time, it really was goodbye. She couldn’t come back here again for anything—her books, her clothes, her first bow.
It was time to let rest the young woman who had been this room’s occupant. Her place was here, that much was clear.
And the Champion of Eorzea, Hero Between Worlds, had to go home.
Etien wiggled out the window, cursing herself for being so focused on the gesture that she didn’t think about the process of performing it. When she had gotten far enough away from the house, she lobbed a rock with the aim she’d cultivated over the last five years—or was it six now?—breaking her window.
And then she stole away into the Twelveswood, just like she had the first time.
It felt easier, kissing it all goodbye, once she was safe and warm back at home, purring without meaning to as Aymeric brought her another cup of tea.
“Thank you, darling,” she mumbled between breaths as he set the cup down.
“You look tired,” he mused, sitting down next to her, lifting the corner of the blanket settled over her lap and dropping it over his own.
“I am,” she replied, her eyelids getting heavier by the second. “I think I still need recovery time from…”
“The last few years?” Aymeric supplied.
She laughed, caught off guard. “Unfortunately. But before I start sleeping like the dead, I have something for you.” She dragged over her bag, unloading the books.
Aymeric picked one up, looking at the cover, flipping through the pages. “These are well-kept.”
“They’re not that old,” Etien sighed. “But. I know you borrow my books. Or at least, you borrowed the ones I brought when I first came here. And I know you wanted something more to read. So I snuck into my room in the house in Alder Springs and I took as many books as I could carry.”
Now Aymeric opened just the cover of the book, seeing Etien’s name on the inside. “Well. An excellent move.”
She tipped her head.
“When we have children, we ought to have something to read them, and your favorites would be a good choice.”
She flustered a touch, blinking the shock away. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” It still struck her, what a thought. Children. And Aymeric reading these stories to them. To even think about it was like dreaming.
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