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dragoon-mid-jump · 1 year

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I am very much enjoying all the Reaper Job bonus flavor dialogue in these patches.

Though, I would also use this post to explain how exactly Y'dehlya came to join the Reapers’ ranks and what powers she now wields. I’ll start with her Dragoon powers, because those lead into and fuse with her Reaper ones.

(Upon pressing “Keep reading”, many paragraphs will appear in sequence. It is recommended that you set aside sufficient time to view this post in its entirety.)

My take on Y’dehlya actually being able to use the Dragoon Soul Stone despite having not a single drop of Ishgardian blood in her veins stems from expanding on the “inner dragon” all Dragoons apparently have. It is my understanding that the Soul Stone only resonates with those who have a dragon’s spirit within them. For Ishgardians, this is easily explained with the reveal of Thordan I and his Twelve Knights murdering Ratatoskr and consuming her flesh a thousand years before ARR, enough time for draconic power to take root and lay dormant inside every Ishgardian living in the game’s present.

But Y’dehlya’s is from a different circumstance. The simpler reason I thought of was that Persephone’s combat transformation was very draconic in appearance, and Y’dehlya’s soul enduring seven whole Rejoinings and bringing that back to her. The more complex one is that Hydaelyn bound Persephone’s Shard on the Source to the soul of a stillborn child of Midgardsormr at his behest. Or I could just do both. Either way, with these plus the meddlings of (in order) Nidhogg via the Eye, resonating with a Dragoon Soul Stone, Midgardsormr removing Hydaelyn’s blessing and binding himself to Y’dehlya, and Hraesvelgr bestowing his own Eye unto her awakens/creates a manifestation of Y’dehlya’s latent draconic powers: Mehen.

Mehen in ancient Egyptian mythology is the equivalent of Jormungandr and Ouroboros. A deity that protected Osiris-Ra as he traveled through the night/underworld by coiling around him.

With all the other dragon influences around her soul, it was almost impossible for her at first to truly sense Mehen’s presence throughout ARR and HW. It was easily mistaken for one of the others’. As for StB, she had not only hung up the mantle of Azure Dragoon alongside Estinien at the end of the Dragonsong War, but went the extra mile and left the Soul Stone in Aymeric’s care, the war burned her out that much. And yet, there were still some events that made her fall back on those abilities, which also helped her to reconcile herself with them. The DRG Job Quests from 60 to 69, as well as taking the spear up again for the Nhaadam help Y’dehlya find the courage to reclaim the Stone when Aymeric offers it back to her in Ala Mhigo before the showdown against Zenos-Shinryu.

The Omega Raids was the first time Mehen truly showed themself to Y’dehlya, manifesting physically at Midgardsormr’s behest and introduced themself appropriately. In order to qualify as a candidate for Omega’s challenge, Mehen quickly adopted a more humanoid form, manifesting as a Raen Au Ri that resembles Y’dehlya (or moreso Persephone).

Due to having no set preference themself between being more “masculine” or “feminine”, Mehen manifests in whichever form they are feeling at the moment.

When Omega traps Y’dehlya and U’reksh and starts testing their pain tolerances up to the extent that they could very well die, Midgarsormr uses the last of his available power to free Y’dehlya and entrusts Mehen with her. It is then that Y’dehlya unlocks Life of the Dragon and together, they free U’reksh and cause Omega to retreat and recalibrate. After the whole Omega Raid storyline is completed, Y’dehlya introduces Mehen to the rest of the Scions, and later Estinien, Orn Kai, Vedrfolnir, and Faunehm during the lvl 70 DRG quest. Mehen resolves to want to learn more and more about the world while traveling within Y’dehlya.

Flash forward to ShB. Y’dehlya and Mehen were...more aware than they let on about the state of their soul with subsequent Lightwarden absorptions, especially after overhearing Y’shtola and Urianger’s argument over it. In the time between absorbing Amh Araeng’s Lightwarden and the siege on Eulmore, Y’dehlya grew desperate in trying to find her own way to save the both of them.

During a check-in with the Source, she happened upon the events of the first Reaper quests. The words “Lemures” and “Reaper” coming from the attendant and his employer tip her off to who they want her to deal with. She’s heard whispers of this group before through the grapevine, as well as solid confirmation from Y’kouha. And so, with Mehen’s consent and hearing the summoned voidsent itself beg for death via devouring upon hearing their plight (it’s a win-win exchange, the voidsent finally gets sweet release and their devourers get their powers), she readily accepts, because what is the antithesis of sin eater, but voidsent? And thus, this lovely explanation from Zero is what takes place between Mehen and the voidsent, becoming the Void Dragon/Voidwyrm and taking on the appearance of a Xaela:

If the voidsent powers stemmed from a being who was already friendly towards their host, theoretically, there shouldn't be any fear of being taken over. This doesn’t stop Y’shtola from immediately grilling Dehlya on her choices once she takes notice out of further concern and anger at Urianger and the Exarch for driving her to this. Y’dehlya stands her ground. The other Scions have very mixed reactions when the cat’s out of the bag, but eventually grow to accept it. Both Urianger and the Exarch in particular feel incredibly guilty and more or less continue to do so into EW, both admitting it to Y’dehlya and Mehen at different points despite their forgiveness and a look at the brighter side of the circumstance.

As for learning how to use a scythe, Y’dehlya’s practically a natural, but part of that will be explained further down.

Anyway, back to ShB. Unfortunately, the absorption of the voidsent wound up doing little in the long run after absorbing Innocence and Y’dehlya is locked out of using Mehen’s voidsent powers until the fusion with Ardbert.

The fusion with Ardbert also triggered a new power in her that seems to only activate against Ascians and Ancients in subsequent MSQ battles: Her weapon suddenly becomes a scythe made out of aether, her skill with it is like never before, and her outfit becomes that of a tattered black cloak. It’s like Enshroud, but it isn’t; her soul is channeling Persephone’s power and skill, manifesting thus, and disappears a short time after it is no longer needed.

After returning to Sharlayan at the end of Main Endwalkere, however, the tattered black outfit and white scythe become permanent. The scythe itself even looks like an actual forged weapon now (See the lvl 89 Reaper gear for reference). Y’dehlya takes this as a sign to becomes a Reaper in full and dyes the cape her signature fuchsia.

Y’dehlya’s Enshroud form bears an uncanny resemblance to Estinien’s final form when he was possessed by Nidhogg, but with a predominantly black, purple/fuchsia, and red color scheme.

#FFXIV #WoL #My WoLs #Y'dehlya Rhikta #Voidwyrm Mehen #heavensward spoilers #stormblood spoilers #shadowbringers spoilers #Endwalker spoilers

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elfyourmother · 2 years

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Haurchefant Greystone ships 👀

HOW CAN I JUST PICK THREE AAAAA

I mean seriously he’s my bicycle gjgjfjfh

Top top is obviously WoL but after that:

1. Aymeric. Aymeric Aymeric Aymeric!!!!!!!! Dear lord everything they have in common!!! The hero complex, the stubborn determination esp. when it comes to refusing to be defined by their (shared!) backgrounds as bastards, the selflessness (at times to their own detriment), the utter fearlessness and optimism, the way each of them embodies every romantic ideal of knighthood and thinks the world of each other. I’m. Help

And to top it all off, Edmont even canonically says he sees much of Haurchefant in Aymeric and considers him another of his sons!!!!!!!

2. Estinien!! The grumpy one and the sunshine one dynamic!!!! The implicit trust!!!! Haurche practically swoons over him!!!! (“I have nothing to fear with the Warrior of Light and the Azure Dragoon at my side!”) But even beyond those things, Haurche understands Estinien more than people might realize at first glance because he can relate to being small and angry and bitey—while it was for different reasons, they both experienced trauma and both obsessively trained to be knights because of it. And I think more than anyone, even Aymeric, Haurchefant can and does help Estinien learn to open up and accept that he’s worthy of love and affection and deserves it (because I think Estinien’s obvious survivor’s guilt makes that difficult for him at times).

Like there is a sincere reason why I absolutely ship Aymeric/Estinien/Haurchefant even without Gisele and still would even if she wasn’t in the picture, he is the perfect balance between the two of them to the point I am absolutely fucking baffled that this ship isn��t as popular as Estimeric tbqh. It’s like making a chicken parm hero without the bread I mean sure it tastes good but you have absolutely no idea what you’re missing

3. Ysayle!!!!! Again with the being able to relate to her because of the childhood traumas (though varied), but also because Haurchefant is so very easy to love, and he’s exactly the sort of person Ysayle needs in her life, someone who will love and accept her unconditionally—she is a desperately lonely woman, ultimately, who clung to the delusions of grandeur as a coping mechanism for feeling lost and alone. Even the grand crusade for justice as she saw it was ultimately about giving her a purpose imo. And Haurchefant, much like Aymeric, represents what the Holy See could be, embodying with utter sincerity the very best of the ideals that weak and evil men of faith cynically espouse with all their hypocrisies (such as the Ward), that Ysayle didn’t believe in after the people of Falcon’s Nest were abandoned by House Durendaire. As Scions in my verse, well, they fit together like a glove, and they’ll forever be bound by nearly losing their lives to save Gisele. It really is an unshakable bond and I get really emotional just thinking about it.

#I’m sorry for the exclamation points!!!!!#I have a lot of feelings about this elf and his loves!!!!!!!!#and that’s just three of them!!!!!#lord baestone #ice wife #azure the grouch #stupid sexy aymeric #allycryz #ask bisho

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drachenblood · 3 years

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Aetheric Changes

For a time were man and dragon as one, two souls bound together. The tendrils of Nidhogg’s power snaking through Estinien’s very being, irrevocably changing him body and soul. Even with his shade banished and the Eyes destroyed, no man can come away from such an ordeal hoping to remain the same and these changes are such that even today is he still making new discoveries.

Of the many are that of Estinien’s aether. Before he’d been chosen by the Eye and thus becoming the Azure Dragoon, his own pool of aethereal energy was unassuming though enough for him to be a dragoon of some note. Once Nidhogg’s eyes had been prised from his body, Estinien was quick to discover that this fount of his life force had grown substantially, granting him powers and abilities far beyond what most mortal men are capable.

One other such notable change is his aethereal alignment, any being sensitive enough to perceive his aether would note that Estinien’s is more aspected towards umbral fire. He runs hot as a consequence, able to journey into bitter colds with little need for any usual heavy outer wear. If he were inclined to thaumaturgy he might easily cast fire spells if not for his own aversion to such dark arts. Though Estinien may manifest this dragonfire as a dark aura about him when he pushes his abilities to their limits.

Estinien also has a heighted sense for aether whether it be as spells cast around him or against him or to the currents around him. Regions with a surfeit of aether tends to cause buzzing headaches if he lingers overlong. He can sense changes in the air usually caused by weather patterns or when aether is being channeled, giving him somewhat of an advantage when near mages. He is especially aware of dragons, able to sense them from malms away.

For the most part with these changes, Estinien has come to terms with what he is now. Where once there’d been reticence and horror for what he’s become, he sees such as a boon to be used in combat, granting him an advantage of his enemies.

#🐉┇HEADCANON #all these are things i've kinda written in different threads finally gathered in one place #i like to believe when people who are able to perceive aether sense him from a distance #they mistake him for a dragon at first and then they're like wtf when they realize he's not one

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blorbos-of-the-7th-dawn · 2 years

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Sworn in Dragon's Blood

Estinien Wyrmblood & Kordelia Bloefiswyn

Kordelia still felt a little awkward in her new drachen mail. Were the sharp protrusions all over it spikes or blades? They weighed on her limbs and threw her off balance.

The Rogaedyn woman was glad of how well it fit her though. And standing at 7 fulm 9 ilm tall, even most Rogaedyn clothes didn't fit her.

"So. You're almost a full Dragoon now." Came a voice from behind a tree to her right.

Kordelia turned to see black and gold armor that matched her own black and blue. "Hey, Grumpypants." She nodded.

He ignored the nickname, remaining leaning against the tree, arms crossed over his chest. "The Eye still calls to you, doesn't it?"

The feeling got stronger as Kordelia crunched through the snow towards him. "Yes. It's... weird."

Estinien snorted.

"It is! I don't know how else to describe it, I'm.... not good at words." Kordelia's voice trailed off into a mumble as she spoke.

"You're not wrong. It is weird." He pulled the red, angry eye of Nidhogg out. If it had whites, Kordelia would probably have called it bloodshot.

"Two Azure Dragoons at the same time.... it's never happened before." Estinien said, staring at the eye.

She shrugged. "So we're different. I'm used to that. And I think you are too."

He stared at her. Or at least, Kordelia was pretty sure he was staring at her. His visor was always down, but at the very least his helmet was turned towards her.

"What do you think that makes us? Brother and Sister in arms against Nidhogg?" Estinien asked, voice gruffer than usual.

The young woman paused, face growing serious. She reached a hand up to tug at the thick piece of hair hanging down the right side of her face, just long enough to brush her jawline.

"Brother and sister... yes, I would like that." She glanced nervously back at Estinien. "As long as you're sure. You... don't seem like the type to go making friends and family everywhere you go."

Even with his visor down, the eye roll was obvious. "I'm not. This is.... an exception."

Estinien tucked the Eye away again, and took off his helmet to reveal the top half of his face and long silver-white hair bound back in a ponytail, setting it down on the snow. He knelt down, and took out a small knife. "Come. I would have us make this official."

Kordelia knelt down in the snow in front of him, setting her helmet beside his.

"Do you have a knife of your own?"

She nodded, drawing it and holding it handle out.

Estinien took off his right gauntlet, and held his knife out to her. "Cut me with my knife, then I shall do the same to you."

Kordelia's face was solemn as she took his knife, handing her own to him. She turned his wrist gently so that his palm faced up, and bit her lip in concentration as she cut a shallow line across his palm, dark blood welling up in it.

She held out her own hand to him, palm up, and stubbornly did not react when he cut her palm. If he could do it, so could she.

Estinien pressed their palms together, fingers pointing towards the sky. "Repeat after me."

"I, Estinien Varlineau, swear to the Fury to be as a brother to this woman, to fight by her side, to stand with her in every trial, to share in her curses and blessings, for her blood now runs in my veins and mine in hers."

Kordelia took a deep breath. "I, Estinien Varlineau, swear-" she suddenly broke off in giggles at the glare leveled at her. "You said to repeat after you!"

He huffed. "Do it properly."

She shook her head to clear away the giggles, then sighed.

"I, Merlbryda Eynzahrwyn, swear to the Navigator to be as a sister to this man, to fight by his side, to stand by him in every trial, to share in his curses and blessings, for his blood now runs in my veins, and mine in his."

Estinien pulled his palm back, fingers still interlaced, and watched as the blood slowly dripped onto the snow, staining it red.

"The Navigator?" He asked.

A soft smile appeared when Estinien took the second piece of bandage and wrapped her hand. "It's nice to have a brother."

The Rogaedyn shrugged as she pulled a strip of bandage out of her bag, wrapping it around her hand. "Lymlayn is my god. It'd probably be weird if I swore by Halone."

"And Merlbryda Eyn- Eynzahrwyn?"

"That's.... my real name. Kordelia Bloefiswyn is a pseudonym to hide the fact that my parents are married and to prevent confusion between my mother's name and mine. No one ever asks, so I never end up telling anyone."

He grunted noncommittally.

"So does this mean I can annoy you all the time now?"

A snort. "You were going to anyway. This just means I can do it back."

Her laughter echoed off the Coerthan mountains like dragon song.

#ffxiv oc #platonic oc x canon #ffxiv estinien #estinien #estinien varlineau #dragoon #ffxiv fanfiction #ffxiv oc x canon

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geirskogull · 3 years

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Moments of Calm - Part 1

+ Notes: 5.5 Spoilers Present in This Fic, Warrior of Light Danica Voss takes a moment to herself to perfect that strong silent type look by letting her brain get the better of her.

Archive Link

Warnings: This Chapter isn’t particularly Spicey, but overall this is NSFW

Word Count: 3k

“Finally a moment to yourself then Warrior of Light?” Estiniens voice was a cool whisper through the warm Mor Dhona night air. Unceremoniously warm, if you were to ask her, but it's tepid purple glow was relaxing to her anxious mind even if the slowly forming sweat upon skin was not. It was sticky and gross but at least it reminded her she was material. That she was present and here and no longer upon any bloody field of battle where good men go to die. Where heros place their very lives on the line for a cause they may not fully understand the weight against.

Estinien grimaced when his voice didn’t draw her eye. It normally did. Instead her lovely mismatched visage, gold and green like the sunlight through a forest canopy, gazed over towards the wreckage that was the Keeper of the Lake. Midgardsormr’s rest was temporary, as she had told him once when appraising him of what happened with Omega after Ala Mhigo’s liberation, but he couldn’t help but wonder if in moments like now when she sat silent and contemplative if she wished the Founder of the First Brood could be roused awake with a simple please and thank you.

“Practicing the Strong Silent type act you have then I take it?” He chuckled, though it felt hollow in his chest. He hoped it brought her some sort of ease. Danica Voss, Ala Mhigan Native Scion, seemed to always relax when she heard him laugh, or in general display some sort of ease from a smile to a gentle nod to just having less bags under his eyes more days than normal. He prayed it worked even when the act was false.

“Oh?” Her head snapped up finally, looking from the corpse of the primogenitor to the former Azure Dragoon. What greeted him did nothing to put ease in his heart, well... nothing had recently if he was being honest with himself. And as he liked to view himself a realist, he liked to believe he was honest with himself. Her eyes were red and the bags under them outpaced his own. Exhaustion sat in those once brilliant blinding eyes. And that smile that saw such good in him, even as he existed as nothing short of a monstrous creature of vengeance, was nothing but a faint dim twitch at the edge of her lips.

“Sorry, lost in thought.” She chuckled and he knew it was as false as his own. The smile that grew on her face didn’t reach her eyes and only the rhythmic kicking of her feet against the edge of the cold stone roof paced with her true anxiety. Fast and surprised. He’d caught her off guard, and that was never a good thing.

“Lost in thought and yes, a moment to myself. And before you ask, no you're not interrupting.” In fact he was a welcome interruption. Her mind had grown to lingering on her fears. On this new threat, Fandaniel and his odd Lunar primals. Once more the ever present threat of universal extinction was on the horizon and she’d only just returned.

“I need to steal my rest where I can no? Otherwise there's no rest for the wicked.” And by the gods, she needed to rest. Every movement now was like a forced march, and her heart could only take so much. Her eyes dipped away from his own greys as a familiar escapist thought crossed her mind. Fray had offered her Freedom from this once.

“Or Righteous, as it seems more often the case for you these days Lady Voss.” He chimed, turning his back to her to place his spear near the door. Close enough that even on this roof he need just think and grab it without having to run, but far enough away that it was in no way capable of interrupting any gentle thoughts either might have. Her eyes widened a spell at his words, and he heard an honest snort of a giggle echo through the empty night air. The melody brought a true smile to his face in turn. She was still there, but tired.

“Oh please, don’t call me that. I’m not some noble lady of Ishgard.” The faint flush on her cheeks in the moonlight was enough to tell him she didn’t really mind, but was just caught off guard.She turned away and motioned away with her hand, and he found his smile grew with his pride.

“True, but you are my lady after all. Does it offend that much?” He asked, gently tilting his head as he strode closer. Gloved hand reaching out for her extended one, grasping it firmly, only to quickly intertwine his digits with her own. He let out a low, almost content hum as he approached, gently tugging at their connection to turn her form round.

“Not if you sit next to me.” She answered, pulling upon his own hand, dragging him towards the edge. How long had it been since they last saw each other? Traveled by one anothers side? Her endless optimism and hope tempered by his realism. Azure Dragoons together.

Too long, he decided, flipping her hand over and bringing the back of her hand to his lips. A simple yet dated action, unlike him in any other circumstance but uniquely correct here. Alone. At the top of the Rising Stones. Not a soul to see the way his eyes warmed with a deep fondness when they returned to her own. Nor the growing toothy smile on her face, and the light slowly entering her eyes as she felt at Home.

“I suppose I can do that.” He chuckled, letting go of her hand only momentarily to take his assigned seat next to her. Legs hanging over the edge of the roof, eyes lingering over the horizon. No wonder she got so lost in thought up here, he was almost swept away in the current himself. It had to be something about the air. Intoxicating. Or perhaps it’d just been an unending series of long drawn out days.

Words were not what saved him from the tide however. But the gentle press of her head upon his shoulder, and the wrap of her arm through his. Absently, he rested his hand atop hers on his bicep and looked down at her comfortable but still troubled eyes. Before he had a chance to speak however, she did.

“You’re home.” Her voice was but a distant whisper, almost lost on the night breeze. He blinked, taken aback, and was awaiting the inevitable ‘Where have you been?’ but -

“I missed you.” It never came.

And he found himself for a moment, unable to respond. A warmth blossoming in his chest that should have been familiar by now but always took him off guard. Of course she didn’t ask. She knew if it was important, he’d tell her. She... trusted so readily it scared him sometimes. Someone was bound to come around and see her endless optimism and dreams and kindness and open hands and hurt her for it. Wield the knife that would steal her from the world forever. Away from him.

The thought of that turned his stomach into painful knots. It had almost already happened once. Upon the Dark, with that imposter in Zenos body and that wavering sickness over her. That broke her concentration, almost killed her. He prayed like then, he’d be lucky enough to stop any blade aiming for her back but -

These were not words voiced to air. They were visible only in the churning grey storm clouds of his eyes and hers were closed to them for now. So his answer was in action and the gentle touch of his hand upon the back of her head. Cradling her form against him.

“I missed you too.”

His voice sounded hoarse to his own ears, the words somehow not enough to convey exactly what he felt. His... lack of practice at this whole being a person not obsessed with vengeance thing was really starting to bite him in the ass and he hated it!

But it was enough and his worry was for naught. Her anxious kicking legs against the stone stilled, and though he could hear it, he imagined her heart did as well. She kept eyes closed and just wrapped her arms around his torso, in a firm side hug that was a welcome gift.

“Are you alright?” A question voiced later, as the moon grew higher in the night sky and the warmth turned to a faint chill. The silence hadn’t be bad. Neither of them particularly disliked silence. But it had felt empty which was odd for them. This wasn't the silence of being alone together.

“No.” She answered so instantly that it almost startled him. The matter of fact tone, the way her eyes opened only a crack to make sure none else were around to hear her answer. It was concerning. Estinien had half the mind to just pick her up and wander inside to whatever room she called her own in the Stones and wrap her in enough blankets that she’d be warm and well... That wouldn’t have done anything if she was upset beyond probably give her another reason to be upset.

“What’s wrong then?” He asked instead, taking the novel approach he’d been trying of late of using his damn words rather than sitting in a corner and hoping someone explained things to him eventually.

“Where should I begin?” There was a bitterness to her tone that he’d seen only once before. After the events in Ul’dah. After the apparent assassination of the Sultana, blame placed on the Warrior of Light and the scions, and the death of many of her friends. He furrowed his brow, trying to think of how to answer.

“The Start, I know you know I’m not the best with words so help me understand so maybe I can be better with them.” He exhaled the waterfall of words like a Coerthan avalanche and hoped she was fast enough to dodge the snowfall. Else he might have started her and he’d kick himself in the legs later.

“Well then, let me say I’ve never been alright, Estinien. I’m just very good at faking bravery until it works. I’m terrified. I’ve always been terrified that one misstep on any of our parts now can just... break the world!” She unwound her arms from him and looked despondent at her palms,hidden by the omnipresent fingerless black gloves worn with time and constant usage till the fabric upon the upright hands were paper thin. She balled them into fists, sharp nails piercing the fabric in already known locations. She’d done this sort of angry motion time and again.

“You won’t though.” He tried to console, his words not false but too easy. Not conveying the fullness of what he thought. Something he knew the moment she pulled away. Eyes open with a scared rage that he’d seen once before as well. But he tried not to think how dangerously close he came to killing her that day on the Steps of Faith.

“You don’t know that!” She exclaimed, slamming those balled fists onto her own lap in exasperation. Looking up at him with those wide terrified eyes he hated seeing. “No one does!” Perhaps it was in a way hopeful, this uncertainty in the future but it didn’t feel that way to her at this moment.

“I know I don’t, and I know normally it would be you chastising me for jumping to the worst conclusion. But...” She exhaled and he found his words lacking. Stalling and falling off, like they were broken keys on a piano that ruined whatever song he was attempting. Her eyes fell from the terror and what replaced them was a sad, accepting smile. One he’d never seen before, and hoped he never would again.

“You don’t have to say anything you know. It’s probably just good I got that off my chest.” She laughed, shaking her head at herself. It was good to air that but it didn’t deal with the problem she was well aware of. It just took the top level off the simmering pot and prevented it from overflowing once more.

“I want to, though. I want you to know that your fear is...” He pleaded, taking her hands in his one at a time, gently running a finger across her knuckles in some vain attempt to soothe her nerves that actually did a bit more than he thought it would. Her shoulders dropped and she looked away, down at the now empty streets of the adventuring town.

“It’s good. It means you’re aware of what’s on the line. It’s terrible and eating at your heart obviously, but it means you’re not blind to what's at risk for your dreams of a better future." He leaned forward, lowering his voice not out of fear that someone might dare hear the former Azure Dragoon be soft - that sort of fear died the moment he made that recent mistake in Ishgard - but out of the intimacy it provided with his head now gently resting against her own. He could see the faint tears she blinked away time and again, see the exhaustion bleeding from her brows and hear the whisper she tried to hide.

“Sometimes I wish I was...” One of those damn tears she had been trying so hard to restrain fell down her cheek in a silent sod. Leaving a clear pathway in the days dirt she had yet been unable to clear. Hells, she probably hadn't had a chance to clean herself up since the fights in Thanalan.

“If you were, you'd be no better than Ilberd." He whispered in turn, allowing an edge into his hidden gentleness at that traitor's name. The pain he had caused Voss was inexorably present, still in her heart. The trust she had for him, the one who so willingly put up with her endless questions about home without growing bored with the Half Elezen, the one who slew their people for brilliant dreams of freedom stained red with innocent blood. He shook his head, bad words really on his part given a second tear joined the first.

"I know but-" She shivered like the cold wind in the night was frigid icy blades digging into her skin, her soul even. She choked back a sob that she refused to let air. Proud. She was always proud. That much was true. “It... hurts.” She grasped at her chest balling up the ripped fabric of her shirt. She’d need to mend that later.

"Your heart is a wonderfully heavy burden to bear" He whispered, holding her in his arms firm, while one of his scarred hands gently wiped at the growing sorrow staining her tired face. It wounded him to see her so, and at this point he wasn’t sure if it was his own softness upon her or the connection they held as dragoons. “It’s so wonderful, and open. You see the good in everyone, and even when you can’t you manage to fish out the good they can’t see. It’s just so filled with love and hope for the world. So heavy with the weight of your dreams.” He continued an avalanche of words he hoped were correct. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against her own.

"But, perhaps consider not bearing it alone." He released his hold on her the moment she burrowed her face into his chest. Her shaking less now, her breathing more steady but the tears falling much more readily. That worked. Thank Halone that worked. A fragile smile twitched at the edge of his lips as he brushed hair from her face. Her long tangled black waves not unlike a veil of mourning around her face. Of all those in the world, she deserved most to mourn.

Did this silence count as mourning? He wondered as he traced soothing circles upon her back as intermediary sobs escaped her, muffled by his wrinkled coat. He hoped it did. He very much hoped it did.

When she next spoke the moon was beginning it’s descent into day. How long had they sat there in silence? An eternity? Not long enough? He didn’t know. But when her hoarse voice did manage to reach his ears as she slowly looked up at him he listened.

“I think I’m going to go to bed now.” She chuckled faintly at her own words. What was she some young child demanding more time up only to realize the weight of sleep upon their backs? No. She was just tired. So tired and this had been such a long day.

“Let me walk you back then.” It wasn’t a request or a question. It was really a demand and he hoped it didn’t sound like one. Unwinding his arms from around her swung his legs back towards the safety of the hard ground of the roof before reaching out with his spear and returning it to its place on his back.

“It’s just my room Estinien, I’m not going to get lost.” She chuckled once more, joining him by standing and showing she didn’t actually mind the idea of once more threading her fingers with his and giving a tired squeeze.

“Just, please. I’ve missed you after all.” He reached for her other hand to do the same, stopping it from reaching the door that would lead into the top floor of the Rising Stones, and only a really short walk to her room. Top floor. So she could do just this. Hide and brood up high like all dragoons should.

She huffed loudly, attempting to cross her arms across her chest but they were captive and she didn’t dare free them. “Fine. Fine. I guess that’s alright, given I’ve missed you too.” She shook her head, the smiling growing by the second. Ah, little victories. Freeing but one of his hands he pushed open the wooden door and bowed. Waiting for her to walk through and drag him with her.

#ffxiv #ff14 #estinien x wol #estinien wyrmblood #danica voss

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araingirl · 3 years

Text

Hiromi Tachibana: An excellent dancer, yet, a helpless bayadere.

“Ding!”

All the bronze temple bells swinging from the roof jingled together. Long garlands of marigolds in white and rare aqua-blue were attached to the pillars and arched niches possessing metal idols of different ancient deities, touching the ground-both linearly and curvedly. Through the round gaps on the windows, air and sunlight-both were stepping in together. On the steel-rimmed podium where African elephants were engraved, musicians in white kimonos were playing drums, flutes and biwas. Standing beside them, yellow priests were flapping the fly whisks. The gallery created a pentagon at the center. On the colorful artworks, temple dancers in white robes and golden jewelries stood, holding large conch-shells. Behind them, there were some masked performers too, in red and green.

When the white-worn ladies raised the shells, expanding their arms, the masked dancers tapped their ankleted feet on the floor, creating a symphony with the music escaping from the instruments. Girls holding conches curved in different angles at two sides inclining from the center, creating half of a lotus in a semicircle. Again, they returned to their first positions as if the lotus had been closing and lifted the white conches again to the marble statue of the azure dragon of the east, embellished with silver accessories and situated between two bronze lamp-stands, holding hundreds of blazing lanterns. Steams rose from the silver kettles; their aroma lost itself in the fragrance of the scattered chikori flowers, unable to be differentiated.

When the white-dressers moved away from each other and the maskers created a distance, another dancer got revealed before the eyes of the spectators, more different from the others. She wore a kimono with the crimson upper part having golden chintz pattern and the white bottom, made of silk, was plain with aureate borderlines. The belt around her slender waist was of pure gold with fire-opal trinkets. Gilded choker and opera necklaces bound her neck, ruby-studded hoop earrings clinched her ears, almost reaching her shoulders. Lush, chocolate-brown tresses were bound in a high side-bun, garnished with hairpins and a one-sided three-layered gold hairchain where another fire-opal landed on her forehead, spangling. Her ruby eyes flickered in determination and skills. Carrying a copper spear much taller than she, the brunette bowed before the Dragoon statue.

The cadence of the drums rose, the voice of the singers too. Lifting the spear over her head, the brunette rotated it and held it diagonally with the horizon. Her feet trembled on the dance ground as she kept swirling, not leaving the javelin. Devotion for the azure dragon was present in her body, mind and soul. From the same feeling, she was dancing ceaselessly. Her ankles resonated in the entire temple, suppressing all other sounds-even the music itself bowed before those jingles. When she twirled on her feet and proceeded towards Dragoon statue, all the dancers covered from the background. Sitting on his chair, the purple-haired head-priest grinned shamelessly, trying to undress the head-bayadere of his temple with his eyes.

Though her eyes weren’t on him, she realized that she was being eaten. Reaching the statue, she knelt down and gently placed the spear before the Dragon. Joining her hands, she raised her ruby orbs and stretched her palms to him; letting her warm tears trickle across her sakura tattoo-painted cheeks.

‘Lord….’ She murmured, ‘Save me….’

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Will Hiromi be saved from the dirty eyes of the head-priest of their temple? Who’ll come for rescuing her?

Coming in “A song of ruby and amethyst”.

#A song of ruby and amethyst #Beyblade #Hilary Tachibana #Hiromi Tachibana

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