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sezja · 3 months

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Febuwhump Day 4: Obedience Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Characters/Ship: Raicheille Lhorulgois Triggers/Content warnings: Child abuse

Takes place one year after Silenced.

"Stand still," Mother snaps, swatting Raicheille's shoulder as though she's an insect in need of a good squishing. "And stop slouching, girl! You've no figure yet to speak of; we must pin all of our hopes on your face. Gods help us."

I inherited it from you, you old sow, she doesn't dare say, straightening her shoulders even further, stretching her spine until it creaks. Her new dress clings in uncomfortable places, telling earnest but unconvincing lies about the shape of her beneath it. As though anyone would believe it. Her betrothed-to-be will be a fellow wildwood, of course, and everyone knows elezen don't begin properly growing until their twentieth year, give or take.

At fifteen summers, she feels like a dodo pretending to be a chocobo.

"You will be gracious," Father says. His voice is cold, stern, as though she's one of his hired lances. "You will speak only when it is required of you, or you will suffer the consequences of your disobedience."

She fights the urge to shudder.

There's every reason the new dress covers her from the neck down, hiding the bruises and welts she's earned over the past year.

Nourval wouldn't let them do this to me.

"Do not bite your lip," Mother snaps again, seizing Raicheille's chin between cruel fingers, not quite hard enough to bruise. "Do not sulk at your father, you ungrateful trollop; were it not for your interference, none of this would be necessary! Your uncle had it all well in hand!"

"Yes- yes, Mother."

Had it all well in hand is, Rai thinks, a very diplomatic way to describe the attempted murder of an officer of the Twin Adder, in an effort to frame visiting Ala Mhigan diplomats for the crime - it'd been her interference, yes, that'd alerted Captain Smyth to the plot. But she'd only ever wanted her brother to be freed from prison; beyond that, she hadn't really cared what became of it all. Not really.

She hasn't seen Nourval since. Her last memory of her brother is of him lying half-dead in the tall grass, and Captain Smyth sending her dashing off for a healer.

He's alive, at least. She knows that much. If her parents would let him see her...

But no. They'd told the Adders charming lies, pleading their ignorance, pleading their innocence, and so Raicheille was returned to the loving arms of her parents. If only someone had thought to ask her what her parents might have known... but who ever cared what one scrawny girl knew?

Captain Sanson cared, she thinks, idly, fighting the urge to rub her throbbing jaw while her parents aren't looking.

Today is her chance at redemption, her parents have told her, endlessly, for the past week. Marriage is a time-honored contract, sealing alliances between the families of Gridania's oldest families - those who long for the old ways, before Gridania opened her gates to outsiders; before Ala Mhigo brought war to her doorstep and pushed Gridania to the brink. Before Vainchelon's death. Rai has known all her life that she'd be handed over into the keeping of some tradition-minded man or other...

But that was before she knew the truth about it all.

Now she wants to run screaming into the Shroud, hopefully to be eaten by some wild beast - better that than being married off to some other hateful bastard who who only wants to rekindle old wars.

The one they've picked for her is nearly thrice her age: a grizzled veteran of the Old Guard, known to have a firm hand with his servants. The Matron knows he's likely to see her as little better than a servant; she expects she'll be lucky to see the sun more than once a moon - she'll be kept under lock and key, seen but not heard, her value proven only in the production of sons to bear arms-

I'd rather just get eaten.

"Come, girl," Father says, snapping his fingers like she's one of his hunting hounds. Mother places an ungentle hand on her back, guiding her forward like a prisoner who can't be trusted to follow obediently.

It's more apt than it ought to be.

#febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday4 #my writing #raicheille lhorulgois #THIS IS THE ONGOING STORYLINE #it's not as in-depth as last year's but follows rai trying to get the hell out of the situation her parents have put her in #(the boys will turn up soon)

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sezja · 3 months

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Febuwhump Day 15: "Who did this to you?" Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Characters/Ship: Sanson Smyth/Guydelot Thildonnet, Nourval Lhorulgois, Raicheille Lhorulgois Triggers/Content warnings: Child abuse

Previously: Part One, Part Two

It's a small, unassuming house: fit for a single man with no aspirations grander than a simple life. It looks like any other house along the street: there is a small garden patch that appears reasonably well-tended, the decorations are modest, the windows are bright and warm.

No other house on the street has two armed guards standing in front of the gate, however.

They frown at Raicheille as she approaches - no longer running; it won't do her any good to outpace Captain Sanson by any great measure. But she is still hurrying. By now, her parents and fiance will have noticed she's escaped from the garden they'd told her to wait in, and they'll be searching for her. She has to hide. And... and where better to hide than with Nourval, who'd always protected her from them when she was little? If nothing else, surely her parents can't strong-arm their way past these guards, no more than she can.

She watches as the guards' expressions change from consternation to concern, and remembers the mess she's made of her nice new dress. Good, she thinks, savagely; she wishes she'd ripped the damn thing up even worse! It'd caught on every bush and bramble as she'd climbed over the hedge, scrambling up and over as fast as she could. She hadn't even had a destination in mind - only away, away, as fast as possible. She'd kicked her shoes off somewhere; she couldn't run in the silly things, and she needed to go as fast as her legs could carry her.

To think she'd run into Sanson! That's got to be the Matron looking out for her.

"Miss, are you-"

"I'm here to visit my brother," she says, all in one breath, forgetting that she needs to seem calm and reasonable. She doesn't want them to ask questions.

Probably shouldn't have shredded her dress climbing that hedge, then, but it's too late to worry about that.

Luckily, before the guards can interrogate her, Captain Sanson and his bard - whatsisname, the one they'd rescued last year - arrive, not even winded despite Rai's dash. The guards plainly recognize the pair; they quickly snap to a salute, which makes the bard's lips twitch into a small smile.

"We'll not be long," Sanson says, not troubling to explain her presence: the perks of rank! Just like last year, when he'd managed to weasel her past the prison guard who'd turned her away so many times. Her parents haven't gotten to these guards, obviously; they don't even seem to grasp who she is. They exchange curious glances, but don't try to stop the three of them as they enter the gate.

"Captain," one of them calls, as they near the door.

Damn! Rai's guts clench. They're going to stop them now, she just knows it, and she's so close-

Sanson turns. "Yes?"

"Is the... is the young lady going to require a conjurer?"

Sanson hesitates, glancing at her.

Rai feels her face heating. "I'm fine." All this fussing over a tattered dress and a few bruises! Where was all of this when her parents were-

Never mind.

She dashes away, closing the distance to the door and pounding on it with her fist as hard as she can, as though delivering all the vengeance she might desire. Let Sanson and his bard deal with the guards; she needs - needs - to see her brother.

"Yes, yes, give a man a chance to reach the door before you break it down," comes a familiar voice from inside, and Rai's heart claws its way into her throat.

The door opens, and it's him.

Nourval has seen better days, certainly; he never looked half so unkempt at home, nor even when he'd been a prisoner - he's not been long out of the healers' care, Rai knows. Their uncle had nearly killed him, running him through with a lance; a blow meant to kill. Raicheille herself still isn't certain how it didn't kill him, save that it had been a miracle - he still bears a hideous scar from it; she sees it poking out above the deep collar of his shirt. He's still gaunt and weary, with shadows under his eyes and hollows in his cheeks, where he has yet to regain his vitality and strength.

But it's him.

For a moment, he stares at her, as though she might be an apparition.

She will not cry in front of Sanson and the others. "Nourval," she says, and her voice is a little too high, a little too frantic. "Nourval, hello, I've come to visit, that's all!"

"Rai," he says, as though confirming she is who she appears to be. Does he not recognize her? It's been a year, she supposes, but she hasn't grown at all. "Rai, what... what happened to you?"

Oh, this damned dress.

"It's... er... there was-" What had she said before? "An accident. Fell off my chocobo. In the... Central Shroud. I'm fine," she adds. "Can I come in?"

"I think you'd better," he says, a little grim. He glances up at Sanson and Guydelot (right, that's his name!). "I don't suppose I might beg a moment's privacy with my sister?"

Sanson's gaze is a little too intent. Hells. He suspects something. "Of course. You'll inform us if we can be of any assistance?"

"Of course," Nourval echoes, with a small bow, as he ushers Rai into the house.

It's small, it's sparse, it's quiet. Rai looks around the tiny house with interest, surprised to find she likes it - a good deal more than the sprawling misery of her parents' house, at any rate, which has always seemed too big and too empty since Nourval left it.

"So," Nourval says, once the door closes firmly behind them both. "Fell off your chocobo, was it?"

She squirms. "Something like that."

"I might well believe it," he says, leaning against the wall, arms folded. His eyes narrow. "If I'd not been the one to teach you to ride. And no chocobo made those marks on your arm, either, Raicheille."

Her eyes burn again. Don't bite your lip, her mother's voice snaps in her mind, and she wills herself not to.

Nourval pushes away from the wall and comes closer. There's something in his eyes that looks like anger, but it's not at her. It's for her.

That's new.

"Rai. Tell me the truth. Who did this to you?"

She doesn't mean to tell him the truth, not really, but it spills out of her like blood from a fresh wound. She tells him everything: the beatings, the days she's spent locked in her room, the shouting, the threats, the days without meals, the pinching and poking and prodding as they try to make her obey. The lectures. The unwanted betrothal.

"B-but... but the dress, that was my fault," she adds, wiping her nose on one ruined sleeve, between hiccuping sobs. "I c-climbed a h-hedge, and it ripped. I h-hate it anyway, but everyone's s-so worried because my s-stupid dress is ripped-"

He pulls her into his arms, then, clutching her close, just like he had when she was small - when her problems were as small as a broken doll or a skinned knee.

And it's safe there, even if only for a moment.

"First things first," he says. "You can have a bath and a rest, and then we'll talk about what happens next." His gaze slides toward the door. "I'll need to have a word with the good Captain and his man."

#febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday15 #my writing #raicheille lhorulgois #nourval lhorulgois #sanson smyth #guydelot thildonnet #rai loudly: I'M FINE!! I'M FINE!!!#reader. she is not fine.

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sezja · 3 months

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Febuwhump Day 17: Hostage Situation Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Characters/Ship: Sanson Smyth/Guydelot Thildonnet, Nourval Lhorulgois, Raicheille Lhorulgois Triggers/Content warnings: Child abuse

Previously: Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Once Raicheille has scrubbed away the day's travails, dressed in one of Nourval's long nightshirts (fully a dress on her slight frame), and gotten some food in her, she promptly retreats to the bedroom for a well-earned rest.

It's just as well, Sanson muses; having dealt with the girl during Guydelot's abduction at her uncle's hands a year ago, he knows how much of a handful she can be - and how unconducive to conversation her boundless energy can be, at that. Last year, she'd successfully wrangled him into breaking Nourval out of gaol, and if he cannot deny it was a gamble that paid off, still, he'd just as soon avoid any more of Raicheille's wild schemes if he may.

Although he fears he may have already stumbled into one.

Is that better or worse, though, than the idea that she has no control over the situation?

"It was the Order's understanding," he says, breaking the tense silence that settles over the three of them once the girl leaves. "That your parents had no part in Astarnaix's plot, and that your sister could be safely returned to their custody."

Nourval nods, weary. "He wouldn't have told them, not after I..." He glances at Sanson, then drops his gaze, staring intently at the floor. "I'd known things must be terrible for her at home. I knew. But I'd assumed... I don't know. They'd never gone so far as to beat her, not while I lived under their roof. Raised voices, aye; locked in her room, aye - but starving her, beating her? She's too young yet for a serious betrothal." He shakes his head. "They've fallen out of favor with Astarnaix's cronies, plainly, and they're trying to win their way back with a good marriage. She's the only coin they've left to spend."

Guydelot looks deceptively calm, leaning casually against a wall. "Aye, and they're doing their level best to polish her up, never mind if it leaves a few dents." Sanson wagers only he can see the thunderclouds brewing behind his bard's eyes, and the fury hidden behind his relaxed posture. Guydelot may not like Nourval, but that doesn't mean he'll stomach what's being done to an innocent girl.

"I should have argued for custody of her," Nourval says, hands curling into fists. "After Astarnaix, knowing what she would be returning home to-"

"You were in no fit state to argue for anything," Sanson protests, remembering all too well how perilously close to death Nourval had been; if the man had even been conscious enough to protest his sister's return to their parents, Sanson would have been astonished.

Guydelot cuts in, "Even if you had been, I reckon they'd've been reluctant to let her stay with a man who'd broken out of gaol."

"He was released under the authority of myself and Commander Vorsaile Heuloix," Sanson replies primly, fighting a smile.

"Aye, so says the official report. Now."

There had been a great deal of back-and-forth, and for a time, Sanson had been certain he'd be stripped of rank, and Vorsaile too. In the end, discretion won out: the plot had been exposed and halted before any harm could be done to the delicate negotiations between Gridania and Ala Mhigo, and none could deny the role Nourval had played in it. House arrest seemed a fair compromise between allowing Nourval to walk free despite his past actions, and condemning him to prison once again despite his more recent heroics.

But house arrest is surely no place for a girl of fifteen... unless, of course, her home life is so dreadful as to make even this seem a paradise by comparison.

"Well," he says, quiet. "The question is... what do we do now?"

Silence.

It's Guydelot who breaks it first, pushing away from the wall. "Well, one thing's for sure - we can't just hide her here forever. I figure your parents know she's fond of you?" He looks at Nourval, who hesitates, then nods. "Right. So if this ain't the first place they'll think to search for her, it sure as hells won't be the last, either. And all they'll have to do is tell those nice lads out front that they're looking for their daughter, and wouldn't you know it? We brought a girl matching her description here a few bells ago."

"You'd aid her?" Nourval peers up at the bard, surprised. "After I..."

"What, held Sanson hostage? Tried to stir up a war?" Guydelot shrugs. "Your uncle did the same thing, twice as bad. I reckon bastard just runs in the family."

"Then-"

"But the way I see it, I owe the lass a favor or two." He smiles, flexing his hands; they may still ache from time to time, Sanson knows, but he's otherwise healed nicely from his ordeal. "Besides, look at it this way. This time, it's sort of like we've got the hostage, seeing as we've got what they want."

Nourval's face is mutinous. "I will not hand her back into their keeping."

"Never said you should. We're in a position to negotiate, is all."

Oh no. Sanson inhales sharply. "Guydelot. What are you planning?

#febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday17 #my writing #sanson smyth #guydelot thildonnet #nourval lhorulgois #raicheille lhorulgois #local bard has Ideas; may come to regret them #(sanson may also come to regret them)

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sezja · 3 months

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Febuwhump Day 6: "You Lied to Me" Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Characters/Ship: Sanson Smyth/Guydelot Thildonnet, Raicheille Lhorulgois Triggers/Content warnings: Child abuse

Part 1

Guydelot heaves a long, deep yawn, not troubling to hide it.

It's a beautiful day - balmy and clear, not a single cloud in the perfect blue sky - and for once, they're off-duty: no assignments, no missions, no training, no drills. He doesn't even have to shirk his duties, nor coax Sanson away from his own for a bell or two; no, it's a full day of nothing to worry about, nothing on their plate.

Naturally, Sanson the Stiff has elected to waste it on errands.

"I didn't force you to accompany me," Sanson reminds him, with an all-too-amused little twinkle in his eyes. "You could have spent the day however you chose."

Aye, but I wanted to spend it with you. "What, and leave you to your own devices? You'll be back to work if I turn my back for half a second."

"Nonsense." Never mind that Sanson won't quite meet his eye when he says it. "But these are things I've put off for too long - it's best I see them done while I have the chance."

Guydelot rolls his eyes, but doesn't complain; he's been trotting after Sanson all across Gridania all morning - a delivery to be made here, a form to be turned in there, a purchase to be made here, a favor to be repaid there. For all his theatrics, the bard can't deny it's a delight to watch Sanson in action, even beyond the battlefield: these little domestic delights never quite lose their luster. In truth, what would he rather do with the day?

"Just one last stop," Sanson promises him, sliding his arm through Guydelot's. "A brief stop at the Canopy. We can stop for lunch there, if you like."

He grins. "Well, if you insist-"

A commotion interrupts him; before he can even properly turn to see what's going on, something slams into them from behind, colliding with Guydelot. It doesn't knock him off his feet, but it's a near thing; he staggers away, reaching for a bow he's not carrying-

And then he pauses.

It's a girl.

A ragged, wild-eyed girl in what was doubtless once a nice dress of dark green velvet - it's in poor shape now; the hem of the skirt is ripped and tattered, and the sleeves hang off her shoulders. Burrs and leaves cling to the fabric. She appears to have lost her shoes, and her stockings are a lost cause; they too are in shreds. Her dark brown hair looks to have been neatly pinned up at one point, but many of the pins have tumbled loose, and tendrils fall loose and wild every which way. Her face, beneath too much cosmetics for a girl her age, is wide-eyed - scratches here and there mar it; between that and the state of her clothes, it looks like she went sprinting through the bramble patch, hitting every thorn along the way.

She tumbled when she collided with him, sprawling on the cobbles.

Sanson offers her a hand, propriety shoving his bewilderment out of the way. "Are you hurt, miss?"

"You!" She clutches his hand, pulling herself upright. She doesn't let go, clinging to Sanson's hand with both of her own, breathing hard. "Captain Smyth! I found you!"

Guydelot glances between the two of them, baffled - but Sanson looks just as confused as he does. "Chief?"

"Forgive me, I'm afraid I..." Sanson trails off. Pauses. Blinks. "Lady Raicheille?"

"Yes!" The girl looks frantically between the two of them. "I... I helped you, both of you, before. You remember. I know you do!"

Helped us? Guydelot's sure he'd remember if they'd been helped by a slip of a girl at some point; he makes a point of remembering favors owed... unless, of course, that favor happened when he was otherwise too preoccupied to pay attention. Which means only one thing - one very specific window of time.

His hands ache.

"You'd be Nourval's sister, I reckon." He'd never met the girl himself - not even half her brother's age, and twice as reckless, from the sound of her. Sanson'd spoken of her in tones of exasperated admiration. Not quite the ragged damsel working herself into a fit of distress before them now.

"Yes... yes! That's me!" She still hasn't released Sanson's arm. "Listen, I- there was... I-"

Sanson touches her hands with his own free hand, gentle. "Calm down, Rai. What happened to you?"

She pauses, sucking in deep breaths. Curious onlookers begin to disperse, now that the worst of the drama appears to have passed - encouraged by sharp looks from Guydelot. Whatever's going on here, the last thing they need's a bloody audience spreading rumors all over the Twelveswood. Guydelot remembers the girl's uncle all too well, and he'd wager good money not all of the bastard's scheming died with him. Whatever this is, he doesn't like the look of it, and he sure as hells doesn't trust it.

"There... there was..." She's thinking. Guydelot's mind sharpens. Whatever the girl says next, he knows, is going to be a lie. No one has to think that hard about the truth. "There was, um... an accident. I was... I was thrown from my chocobo's back, on the way... on the way from Fallgourd."

It'd explain the scratches, and the state of her dress, Guydelot reluctantly acknowledges...

...but it doesn't quite explain the bruises peeking out between the tears in her sleeves. Those are fingerprints, or Guydelot's a blind fool.

"Do you need a conjurer?" Sanson asks, gently. "We could get word to your parents-"

"No!" She all but yelps, eyes flying wide once more. "No! No, don't... don't trouble them, I-" Her eyes dart. Guydelot watches an idea occur to her - a sudden hope. "My brother," she says. "You could take me to Nourval. He'd... he'd look after me. Until I'm ready to go home."

Sanson exchanges a quick glance with Guydelot. Ah. So he does suspect something odd about this.

Nourval's been under the Adders' custody for a year now - not quite a prisoner, but under their watchful gaze nonetheless. He lives in a modest home, guarded at all times by two men. He is permitted to leave only seldom... and never to receive guests without supervision. If Nourval has received any visits from his parents - to say nothing of his willful younger sister - they have not heard of it, and Sanson pays careful attention to Nourval's circumstances. He seems to feel he owes the man something for the risks he'd taken a year ago on their behalf - on Guydelot's behalf - but so far as the bard is concerned, it was merely Nourval cleaning the slate between them.

If he no longer has it in him to hate Nourval for what he'd done to Sanson, nor does he have it in him to forgive the man, either.

"Well." He smiles, stretching. "This'll be fun, won't it? To Nourval's house we go."

"Yes!" Raicheille releases Sanson's hand at last, gathers her ruined skirt in one hand, and darts away, heading toward the residential districts.

Guydelot watches her go, unsurprised to find she knows exactly where her brother lives.

"She lied to us," he says, quietly. "You know that."

"Aye," Sanson replies, as they set off after her - she won't get far without their permission to approach Nourval's home, after all. "The question is... why?" His eyes narrow, and a chill creeps into his voice. "And what's been done to her?"

#febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday6 #my writing #sanson smyth #guydelot thildonnet #raicheille lhorulgois #stretCHING THE PROMPT A LITTLE BIT we're just gonna go with it okay

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sezja · 1 year

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I DID IT - Febuwhump 2023 Masterlist

Day 1: Rope Burn

Day 2: Flinching

Day 3: Muzzled

Day 4: Knife to the Throat

Day 5: "That's Gonna Scar"

Day 6: Secrets Revealed

Day 7: Made to Watch

Day 8: Panic

Day 9: Voice Loss

Day 10: Difficulty Breathing

Day 11: Fever

Day 12: "Can You Hear Me?"

Day 13: Forced to Hurt a Loved One

Day 14: Captivity

Day 15: Self-Sacrifice

Day 16: Semi-Conscious

Day 17: Silent Tears

Day 18: Inferno

Day 19: "You Deserve This"

Day 20: Knife Wound

Day 21: Soft Words

Day 22: Can't Scream

Day 23: "You'll Have to Go Through Me"

Day 24: Bloody Clothes

Day 25: Assumed Dead

Day 26: Forced to Choose

Day 27: Survivor's Guilt

Day 28: "You're Safe Now"

#sanson smyth #guydelot thildonnet #nerise the dragonrider #valan #quinfort #martiallais redlance #nourval #raicheille lhorulgois #...i think that's everyone #my writing #febuwhump2023 #I DID IIIIIT #after last year i swore i'd make my masterlist while i was writing the entries everyday #but no. once again #here we are.#and i had to scramble to put it together at the last minute again.

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sezja · 4 months

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Guydelot's going to teach Raicheille archery.

#that's not febuwhump related. he's just gonna.#it'll make nourval seethe and that's all the reason he needs. <3 #raicheille lhorulgois

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sezja · 4 months

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I know my Raicheille alt is in the Maelstrom because she initially started out as a completely different character, but there's something kind of hilarious about the idea of Rai going to join the Adders because Sanson saved Nourval's life, but Guydelot stepping in like, "No, listen kiddo, listen to me, fuck the Adders,"

#sanson may never forgive him.#but also.#(I'm going to switch her over to the adders one day in the far-flung future when I....... can do that.)#raicheille lhorulgois

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sezja · 1 year

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Febuwhump Day 25: Assumed Dead Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Characters/Ship: Sanson Smyth/Guydelot Thildonnet, Nourval, Original Characters Triggers/Content warnings:

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten

She's not stupid.

He's dead, Raicheille thinks, as her steps carry her through Gridania's quiet nocturnal streets by memory alone; her eyes are too blurred with tears. He's dead, and it's all my fault. If she hadn't told Captain Sanson about her uncle! If she hadn't convinced him Nourval could fight Uncle Astarnaix! If she hadn't convinced him to break Nourval out of prison! At least in gaol, he'd been safe, he'd been alive; no one was going to hurt him there.

She thinks about her uncle's lance plunging through him again; the way he'd collapsed into the grass, unmoving...

My fault. All my fault. And now everything's going to go wrong. Captain Sanson won't be able to save the bard, and they'll both get killed, and then there'll be a war, just like Uncle Astarnaix wants; just like Nourval doesn't want anymore-

Didn't want anymore-

She squeezes the badge in her hand so tightly it bites into her skin, and she keeps running. The Adders' Nest. Even if... even if there's nothing to be done, even if it's too late, she won't let it be said that she gave up without trying. Besides, maybe if she finds a healer, Captain Sanson will stand a chance against Astarnaix - at least long enough for someone else to hear the fighting and come to their aid.

And maybe... maybe it's not too late, maybe...

Nourval had always been the only one who liked her, growing up. Being a girl, her worth to the family lay in the hope that she might one day marry a boy from another wealthy old Gridanian family, securing ancient alliances and providing the Old Guard with sons who could be raised to cling to the same old beliefs. She had little merit in and of herself, naturally, and was therefore largely ignored - only Nourval had spent time with her, telling her tales of Vainchelon and his many acts of virtue, tales of how Gridania grew from a tiny forest settlement to the grand city it was today.

He'd taught her all she knew of heroism, of strength. When he sparred with the other lancers, she swore he was the best; no one could beat him. He even won a bout or two against Uncle Astarnaix, who had trained him...

But not today. Why not today? Why couldn't he-

When he'd left for Gyr Abania, only to return in chains, a criminal, Rai had been devastated. But when she began to hear - to overhear; no one would tell her such things - that he'd begun denouncing his long-held beliefs; that he'd changed his mind about war with Ala Mhigo; that he'd uncovered the truth of Lord Landrenel's choice to conceal Vainchelon's murder...

I won't let them start a war! She's nearly reached the Adders' Nest now, badge in hand. I won't let them! I promise, Nourval!

She runs into the Nest, calling for help. It's quiet this late at night; her voice carries, shrill and piercing in the silence. Several people emerge - some of them wearing coats like the one Nourval had been wearing; it meant they were officers, she remembers. Nourval had taught her that, too; the hierarchy of the Alliance Grand Companies. She wishes, briefly, that she could have found the man Sanson went to - the man even now still locked in Nourval's cell - if only to be certain there was someone she could trust... but the time for that has passed. She must rely on luck, instead.

"Captain... Captain Sanson Smyth requires... requires a healer," she says, choking between sobs. "Please! My brother is dying-"

"Captain Smyth?" A hyuran woman pushes forward, frowning. "Calm yourself, miss. What has happened?"

There's no time! "Please, you have to come with me! It's important! Ask..." Oh, hells, she thinks. Nourval won't be returning to his cell, anyway. "Ask... ask Commander Vorsaile Heuloix," she says, her frantic mind dredging the name up from memory. "He... he's in Nourval Lhorulgois' gaol cell. But you have to come with me; my brother is dying!"

Another man's eyes widen. "Lhorul- are you the missing girl? Raicheille?"

"No," she blurts. Hells! "Yes. But I'm not missing, I've been with Captain Sanson. The Commander can explain!"

The man opens his mouth to speak; the woman shakes her head. "Go check the cell," she says. "If this is a matter of life and death, the details will wait. Inform her parents she's in the Order's custody and will be returned home safely. Miss, I am a conjurer of-"

"Good," she says, already turning to run. "Come on!"

#raicheille lhorulgois #my writing #febuwhump #febuwhumpday25 #febuwhump2023 #WE'RE SO CLOSE TO THE END #(fun fact because i'm not sure it'll come up in the story: the healer here is one of sanson's exes)#(they broke up amicably though; they're still friends)

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