#big krile still cracks me up

[galadion]

bullying haurchefant at titan’s tiki bar 

[raelly-writing]

Tiny Big Demands

Silly 5.4-5.5 fluff that’s been lounging in my WIPs folder for several months. There’s some Thancred/WoL at the end but otherwise it’s mainly uh... nutkin shenanigans.

---

“What the Hells Than..red…”

Frowning, Viana rolled over onto her stomach and buried her face into her pillow to shut out the early morning light. Another sharp, nipping sensation at her other ear followed shortly afterwards, rousing her involuntarily further from her sleep.

Her quiet curse was muffled against her pillow as she blindly reached out a hand to find Thancred and hit his shoulder or chest for the unpleasant wake up call.

But all she found was empty air and cold sheets. Immediately, a harsh sense of disappointment cut through her sleep-logged mind.

Right, he’d be far past the Garlean border by now.

Exhaling, she burrowed back into the covers in a sudden bout of moody resignation. As ridiculous as she felt for missing him so sorely, it was a small comfort that the scent of him still lingered on her sheets, even after the days since his departure.

Maybe she should heed the voice at the back of her head that urged her to rise and face the day, but the warmth of her bed was too comfortable. After the hustle of finding a cure for tempering and applying it to the kobolds, nevermind dealing with a new Ascian’s gloating, she was ready to drift back to sleep, if just for a little while longer.

The soft brush of fur against her arm, followed by a familiar, insistent chittering made her crack open an eye to squint against the morning light. Dark eyes stared back at her, a pink nose and long whiskers wiggling in what could only be described as petulant manner as the nutkin squeaked loudly at her.

Viana blinked owlishly, utterly confused at its appearance. Surely she wasn’t missing Thancred so much she was dreaming about his pet. “Why're you…?”

The only answer she got was another series of high pitched noises. Before she knew it, it’d scampered up her shoulder, sharp claws digging into the fabric of her shirt and soft fur teasing the bare skin at the back of her neck. Definitely not a dream then.

“Ow, okay okay, I’m awake, you little monster,” she groaned, and carefully pushed herself up on her elbows.

If she didn’t know better, she could swear the critter sounded victorious as it scurried up over her head before hopping down onto her pillow. It’s big dark eyes stared up at her as it made a big show of rubbing its clearly empty cheeks while fluffing up its tail in an indignant manner.

Viana snorted and slowly sat up.  Rubbing the sleep from her eyes she yawned widely, “How did you even get in here?”

Glancing down at the nutkin, she watched as it stood on its hind legs, squeaking up at her.

“Mhm, well, figures,” she muttered drowsily.  “Now I assume this isn’t just a friendly visit?” It flicked its tail and gave a singular squeak. It would appear that in Thancred’s absence it’d decided that she was best to see to its needs. “Thought as much.”

Sighing, she held out her hand to the nutkin, and it quickly hopped up into her palm, evidently eager to have its demands fulfilled. “Very well then,” she mused as she climbed out of bed. “Let’s see what we can find for you.”

In response she got a series of satisfied squeaks as it excitedly turned in circles in her palm. Though the stone floor was cold beneath her bare feet, she couldn’t bother to find a pair of socks for the short walk - besides, judging by how the nutkin kept chittering while twisting and turning, she doubted such delays would be tolerated to start with.

“Why, I agree, it’s most cruel of him to leave you again so soon.”

Taking her keys from where she kept them on her desk, she left her room and wandered down the empty hallway towards Thancred’s. Well, at least nobody would give her strange looks for walking around in just shorts and a simple top while talking to the small rodent in her hand. “And he didn’t leave you with enough tasty treats?” The nutkin chittered and nuzzled into her thumb when she absentmindedly petted it - a rather abrupt shift from its more aloof behaviour with her in the past, and one that left her feeling oddly manipulated at that. As sneaky and charming as its owner, clearly.

“Just Tataru refilling your bowl with plain seeds and nuts?” she tutted. “How dreadful. You better have a chat with him once he gets back from Garlemald so he knows such things won’t be accepted.”

The nutkin gave a singular high squeak in reply, one paw braced on her ring finger as it peered up at her expectantly. A small smile curled the corner of Viana’s mouth. It really was adorable when it wasn’t driving Krile to the brink of sanity by stashing nuts all around Thancred’s unconscious body.

Or when it decided to demand attention from Thancred just when the two of them were having a private moment.

The moment she unlocked his door and slipped into his room, the nutkin’s attention immediately fixated on one bookshelf in particular.

Her gaze found the familiar wooden box sitting amidst the various books, one she’d seen Thancred retrieve several times. “Suppose you never made a fuss to anyone else before, because nobody else knew where he kept the good treats, hm?”

It squeaked again.

“Well, don’t think I’m going to spoil you just because Thancred’s not here,” she said firmly as she set down the nutkin on his desk, the dark wooden surface being void of any of the document folders and notebooks that usually had occupied its surface since their return from the First.

The nutkin instantly hopped to the edge where it perched atop a discarded book, watching her intently as she took down the simple but sturdy box from the shelf. The heavy lid opened easily on well-oiled hinges and Viana took out approximately the same amount of the big nuts she’d usually seen Thancred retrieve before closing the lid once more.

Before she’d even had a chance to return the box to its place, the nutkin was squeaking excitedly. It stood on its hindlegs, small pink paws already raised as if grasping for its treats.

Viana paused, clicking her tongue. “Such ill manners,” she tutted.

The only response she got was an impatient flick of its fluffed up tail and wiggle of a pink nose as it defiantly stared up at her. It really didn’t have a shred of fear, did it? Sighing, she held out her empty hand and it quickly jumped into her palm, attention honed in on the nuts in her other hand.

But rather than waiting patiently for her to find a bowl for the nuts, it leaned off from the edge of her hand, as if readying to jump.

“Hold on now, no jumping!” Without thinking Viana quickly cupped her hands. A delighted chirp instantly resounded from the nutkin as it surveyed its pile of nuts, then latched onto a particularly big one, twisting and turning it in its hands before starting to gnaw at it.

“My my, one would almost think you’ve had naught to eat for days,” Viana chuckled. Then she looked around, the mirth making way for dismay when she was unable to locate any bowl or other container into which to deposit the hungry critter and its nuts.

Hells, she was too tired for this. With a sigh of resignation, she walked over to Thancred’s reading chair and curled up in it, cold feet tucked beneath her, while careful not to disturb the happily gnawing nutkin that was utterly oblivious to her dilemma.

Viana looked on as it began to make short work of the sturdy shell and dug into its delicious prize within, stuffing it into its cheek for later. “You know, if you’re gonna wake me like this while he’s away,” she drawled, “you could be nice and not interrupt us when he gets back.”

The nutkin paused to look up at her, almost as if it was contemplating her words, before digging back into the next nut.

Huffing out a little laugh, Viana leaned back and closed her eyes. “Well, it was worth a try,” she sighed.

With one thumb she slowly petted the nutkin’s soft fur, earning her another series of happy little noises and the distinct feeling of a nose nuzzling against her hand. Maybe she should just get a box with nuts and seeds and put it in her own room. And a bowl.

It would save her the walk over here every time it decided it wanted some attention.

Yawning, she snuggled back into the chair. Well, she could look into that later today. Before she knew it, the sound of the nutkin happily eating was lulling her back into a light sleep.

---

Thancred carefully set down the sturdy clay bowl on Viana’s nightstand, but the nutkin barely noticed, too busy with digging around amongst the seeds and nuts for its favourites to pay him any heed. For now, at least, he thought as he climbed back into bed.

“Well, I am glad to hear that the two of you got along while I was gone,” he said. “I do apologise though, I did not expect her to bother you.”

Viana made a drowsy noise as she rolled over to rest her head on his shoulder once more. “‘tis fine,” she murmured. “I suppose we did come to an understanding. Even though it required a few early mornings.”

At the sound of her voice the nutkin looked up and squeaked, as if in agreement, before digging back into its meal.

With a soft chuckle, he grasped her hand and - mindful of her shoulder - pressed a kiss to her fingers. “Glad to hear it,” he mused. Why he hadn’t thought of putting a box with the nutkin’s food in her room he wasn’t sure. Unwillingness to intrude on her space, perhaps? Ah, well, she’d taken the step herself.

“Hope this means fewer… interruptions,” she mumbled. Thancred couldn’t help but smile at the sleepy tone of her voice while his chest felt warm and comfortable. Twelve, he’d missed mornings such as this - nutkin interruptions or not - where he just got to treasure her presence. It wasn’t many who got to see the fearsome Warrior of Light in a half-asleep state like this.

“I wouldn’t count on it,” he snorted with a glance at the critter in question.

The only response he got was a muffled hum. Clearly she too was still worn out from the fighting in Pagl’than the day prior.

With a quiet, fond laugh, he brushed his fingers through her hair, prompting her to snuggle closer to him. After giving the nutkin a last pet, Thancred let his eyes fall shut and sleep reclaim him.

[fistsoflightning]

23: i wanna know what you’re doing tonight

prompt: shuffle || masterpost || other fills || ao3 mirror

word count: 2796

Does writing music based on things your friend said count as flirting?

It’s AU brainworm time everybody >:3 This “main street” AU is basically balefire/mom squad’s ‘what if we made a bunch of small town romance ideas and mashed them together’ which turns out to be a lot more hilarious than it should be. Featuring (chat) cameos from @windupcatgirl @to-the-voiceless @windupnamazu @verbroil and @winduphaurchefant because why not. Title from this song!

For all intents and purposes, Zaya enjoys autumn; summer heat cooling off into a pleasant chill, the sunlight that lingers enough to keep warm in the early weeks. The trees may die, but in doing so they grow colorful, and though the flowers in A’dewah’s little shop don’t do the same he changes which ones are on display to match better with the tree outside. It does mean Krile—and more recently, one G’raha Tia—have to return to Mor Dhona, their studies resuming, but it’s not like they can’t chat.

It does, however, mean the return of autumn showers—and they don’t even hate rain that much—and fortunately Zaya managed to forget their poncho just as the first big storm pulled in. Mor Dhona wasn’t that far of a drive away, really, just two or three hours on a road Zaya had taken enough times before, but in the middle of a rainstorm? Without a rainproof coat?

Well, at least Miss Eldfalk’s documents are staying dry in the carrier at Zaya’s back, even if the chill of the rain has already soaked through the wool of their jacket and started to dampen their shirt by the time they pull into the parking garage just a block or so away from the museum waiting on Sjanna’s delivery. Thankfully the inn is just an elevator away and not on the other side of the road; they should keep a spare poncho or umbrella in the motorcycle luggage next time.

Zaya pushes the thought aside as they slip off their helmet and the phone in their pocket begins to buzz about, safely tucked within the canvas pocket of their overalls and hopefully not just as soaked as their hands are. Wiping their palms and fingers on the inside of their legs, they unzip the soggy jacket and tug out the borrowed phone to see the numerous Linkcord notifications��of course.

Leaning onto the front of their motorcycle, Zaya hardly takes a second glance up to the storm just out the window behind them as a few taps and a swipe unlocks the screen, opening up to the Linkcord discussion of the day (night? Night.)

[ text channel #mom-panic; 9:47 PM ]

banned for baby crimes zayaaaaaa i miss you Hanami Hagane You are just saying that because you have no one to drag around the fair. Hanami Hagane Besides, they will be back tomorrow afternoon. banned for baby crimes no i’m not!! that’s too long!! i brought ihget but he’s being stupid and wont ride the ferris wheel with me :’) banned for baby crimes i cant find lunya and reese either so now im stuck with himbo here local breadhead we’re just by the cotton candy stand! lunya’s waving at you ;) banned for baby crimes OH THERE YOU ARE HOW DID I MISS YOU        hold on i gotta grab the chad first local breadhead 😊 banned for baby crimes but i really miss zaya even if they’re just over in mor dhona.. so does ochir he- i- banned for baby crimes has anyone seen ochir ihget lost him in the crowd- this says zaya 😱 reese is in pieces :O( YOU WHAT?? local breadhead oh dear lmao reese is in pieces :O( i hope no one tries to take him :( reese is in pieces :O( lunya says if your stupid catboy loses zaya’s bird shes not going to make you two the mini versions of zaya’s courier hat banned for baby crimes IT SNTO MY FAULT ZAYA JR HERE WAS BEIGNB ROODY ADN LOOKED AWAY         NOOOOOOO,,, Hanami Hagane Why bring the bird with you, anyways. Zaya lent you Ochir’s cage. banned for baby crimes he made sad noises when ihget n i were abt to leave,,,,

The chat quickly devolves from there into Sati panicking about Zaya’s violet-backed starling going rogue and everyone else jumping in and hells, they are not in the mood to manage that. Drops of water fall from their chin onto the screen; they hastily wipe it away before shoving the phone back into their pocket and hop off their motorcycle. A few quick movements with the key round their wrist opens up the luggage attachment with the satchel of papers inside—blessedly dry, thank the gods they splurged on a decent one instead—which they swing over their shoulder as they start walking to the elevator.

A dripping trail has probably followed them all the way from the parking garage to the lobby, they think in passing as they stop at the front desk, waiting for the receptionist to turn around. Their hand goes to fiddle with the small keychain on their keyring as they wait, still dripping their own personal puddle around them.

“Hello, hello! Welcome to the Seventh Heaven, how may I—” Tataru turns around, small smile widening into a sunny bright grin when she sees them, even if they’re dripping all over the lobby. “Zaya! Good to see you back again; need a room for the night, then?”

A curt nod (that sends water droplets onto the surface of Tataru’s desk) is all she needs to hop off her stepping stool and onto the ground, waving Zaya along before she cheerily marches down the halls with a keyring jingling in her hand. Not even the gloomy rainstorm thundering outside can put a damper on her mood, it seems.

“Payment for the night’s stay may be given in the form of Gannet Bay gossip, alright?” Tataru unlocks the door to a nicely decorated room with a quick turn of her hand, playfully winking over her shoulder as she does. Her violet eyes glimmer almost the same as Lunya’s, really; filled with teasing joy and secrets. “I’ve heard from the grapevine about a certain catboy quite enjoying the atmosphere out there, now!”

She steps aside as the door swings fully open, giving a little curtsy, and Zaya gives her an energetic thumbs-up as they walk past her into the room, pleasantly warm and bright from the small fireplace in the corner of the room, banked low so its amber glow only flickers across the floor.

First things first: getting out of all the soggy clothing they’re wearing.

They hang their satchel (papers still neatly bound inside, good) on the wall hook by the door and haphazardly strip off their shoes and socks, followed by the once-warm and fluffy jacket as they look about for spare hangers.

Ah; Tataru always has their back. Hanging on the end of the bed are a set of four or so hangers, which Zaya snaps up with ease, carefully slipping the wooden hangers through sleeves and loops as they finally get to their undershirt—blissfully dry, if not a bit cold. Their overalls aren’t all that damp on the top but are more than soaked the further down the legs one looks… hopefully that dries quick enough.

Just as they finish kicking their ankle-high boots to the mat by the door, a quiet yet unfamiliar chime fills the room, and Zaya nearly thinks to check outside the door for the noise when the light vibrations trickle up their arm. The soft ringtone—someone humming along to a muffled orchestra, maybe; not the smartest of choices for a calling ringtone—grows louder as Zaya stares down at their collection of soggy clothing.

...Alright, second: answer the damn phone?

Zaya nearly fumbles all the hangers to grab their phone from the pockets of their overalls and accept the call, only briefly reading the name from the screen before his face pops up in its place. White hair and a charming grin, perhaps—that is, to anyone who hadn’t heard the words that fall from his mouth like gentle rain.

(Okay, well, maybe that just helped. Zaya wasn’t going to say that out loud to anybody regardless; it didn’t matter what they thought of Thancred’s charms. Probably.)

“...I’d say ‘good evening’ but I wager you are having anything but just by the water dripping off your hair,” Thancred says in lieu of greeting, his voice warm and surrounded by the distant sounds of the usual fall fair attractions. “So instead, I’ll say this; is that old phone serving you well enough?”

Zaya nods; given, this one’s a bit clunky, but the lightness of their actual tomephone may have indirectly been the reason that they’d dropped it while helping out around town and eventually cracked the screen. At least Thancred had offered to lend them his old one for the trip to Mor Dhona in case, just on the off chance someone truly needed their attention, like for lost birds and ways to punish a distracted idiot.

They set it on the table, the front camera facing towards the window as Zaya steps into frame, still fiddling with the hangers in their hands. Mor Dhona may be covered in a gloomy storm, but the golden lights from the buildings around Revenant’s Toll Square still glow brightly in the distance, a refuge from the biting torrent of cold rain.

“Survived the water,” they sign slowly, stepping closer to the fireplace in a subtle attempt to dry off a bit quicker, almost fumbling when their fingers stiffen, chilled to the bone. Thancred laughs, the bridge of his nose crinkling just a tad like how it does when he can’t stop cracking himself up. “Still has power, too.”

“Glad to see it has survived, then.” There’s a slight pause where Thancred stops talking (and laughing) to catch his breath, the small silence filled with Zaya leaving frame to go hang their soaked clothes over the fireplace to hopefully dry for tomorrow. When they come back to look at the camera, a kaleidoscope of colorful lights dance across Thancred’s face, some colorfully lit attraction before him leaving his platinum blonde hair awash with a rainbow of color. “The storm there should burn off by early dawn, though; hopefully you will not have to drag yourself home dripping wet from your business in Mor Dhona.”

Ah, good. They yawn as discreetly as someone who’s on a video call can—which is to say, not very, and a rosy flush must spread on their face when Thancred chuckles under his breath, low and steady. 

“Forgive me,” he says next, voice lowered as if he were disturbing someone’s rest. “I must be keeping you from collapsing; I can’t imagine a drive in the freezing rain and getting soaked is the least draining way to spend one’s night.”

In-between stretching out the tense muscles in their back and neck do they grunt some noise of agreement, the strain flaring momentarily before melting into a drowsy warmth that drips down the ridges of their spine. Really, spending time in Mor Dhona at all is a draining waste of time—when you make your home in somewhere as vibrantly quiet as Gannet Bay it’s hard to want the big city over the comforts of familiarity, of knowing each shop and its owners personally, of being able to help them all and see their smiles.

At least they can see one person from home, now.

“ ‘S fine,” they mumble softly, heart stuttering when Thancred’s smile widens at the sound of their voice. Part of them wishes they were there to playfully elbow him for that—it’s not that rare tha they’ll speak—and the other part of them they are desperately trying to ignore. “How’s th’ fair.”

“Wonderful.” He looks up for a moment as Zaya wraps themselves in the bed coverings, presumably to whatever booth or stall is shining down on his face with fluorescent lights. “Ryne’s had a wonderful time, I think. I haven’t seen your friends around, but would you like to hear about the odd variety of attractions around?”

Zaya hums sleepily, waiting for him to continue. They hardly even notices when their eyelids grow heavy and their fingers return to their usual warmth, entranced enough by the fond familiarity of Thancred’s voice as they drift off to sleep.

…

The next morning, Zaya wakes with the dawn that rises across Mor Dhona, the bright golden sunrise sneaking through the cracks of the large curtains to tickle their bedsheets. The cityscape outside the window is covered by low autumn morning fog, glimmering as the sunlight dances over it and the puddles the passing storm had left behind in its wake. Outside, it is nearly silent, only a few passing cars and hardly any pedestrians around when Zaya does their morning stretches by the window.

As is always with a trip into the city, they fall into an easy routine; wake with the sun, stretch out whatever they can without breaking something, get dressed and hastily grab everything before rushing out the door, wave Tataru a rushed but genuine goodbye. Trot down to the parking garage, check the bike, throw the satchel back into the luggage on the back as they slip on their stereo cuffs and flick through playlists on their phone before going to get breakfast at the Bismarck—

Zaya pauses their flick-tap scroll through the playlists on their phone when they catch one with their name. Odd; Thancred did always have the habit of making his friends their own personal playlists, but they’d like to think they didn’t give him that much of a read on their tastes just yet.

Shrugging to no one but themselves, they tap on the playlist and let it begin to play as they slide the phone back into their overall pocket, starting up their motorcycle’s engine just as the song begins to play.

They stop. 

[ DM history with @superbolide; 7:36 AM]

zayaya ❓ zayaya 🌅😊❗🎵🎧💿❓❓ superbolide good morning to you too :) you’re up rather early superbolide something the matter? superbolide ah          i haven’t got another song for you yet, if that’s the question   rest assured, i’ll find something yet! zayaya 🙅

It hardly takes them more than a few seconds to grab a small screenshot of the playlist in question, sending it and another screenshot back to Thancred as they quietly listen to the same song Rjoli and Reese had playing near constantly for last Valentione’s Day in the bakery—still manages to be catchy, somehow. Let it not be said that acoustic covers were not their favorite.

The notification ringtone chimes when Thancred responds, cheery and bright.

Zaya goes a bit bug-eyed at what he types next, the song fading off as the next one on shuffle comes up—piano, humming, Thancred’s voice—

Thankfully, for it being so early in the morning, there’s no one around in the parking garage to judge the frankly embarrassing noise they make at their phone, or the bright flush that spreads across their face.

It isn’t like that, they remember saying, sputtering like a fish out of water when Lunya had barely insinuated that Thancred’s small wave as he walked past was a bit more than friendly. There’s no way he’d be interested in the courier that helped him choose out a ribbon at the local boutique, of all people! He doesn’t even know where I work!

Zaya drops their forehead onto the dash of their motorcycle, careful not to hit their horns against anything as they do.

Looks like they were wrong, about it ‘not being like that’. Maybe.

(Oh gods, they really hope they’re wrong.)

…

[ text channel #mom-panic; 8:03 AM]

💬 this says zaya is typing...

this says zaya😑 this says zaya💭🌑💘 🤟 ❓ banned for baby crimes DOES HTAT MEAN WHAT I THINK IT DOES closest to hell zaya qestir i swear on your lover boy’s life clarify for the peanut gallery local breadhead :0 reese is in pieces :O( i think            hm reese is in pieces :O( zaya did thancred just confess or did somethign else happen this says zaya [ superbolide: oh haha i must have forgotten to upload those to my lifestream] this says zaya [ superbolide: there are some songs i did save, but all the clips there were lyrics i thought of after chatting w/ you 😉] this says zaya [ superbolide: i could make an EP dedicated to you w/ the inspo you gave me] this says zaya [ superbolide: that is, if you don’t mind] Hanami Hagane I told you he was obvious. closest to hell SATINA YOU OWE ME GUMMIES FROM SHOOTING STAR I CALLED IT closest to hell IT WAS OBVIOUS THE MUSIC HES MAKING WAS BC OF THEM local breadhead oh bless… that’s v sweet… banned for baby crimes HBHBHHB NOOO MY HARD EARNED GIL,,, banned for baby crimes BUT WE ALL WERE RIGHT ABOUT HIM THO reese is in pieces :O( awwwauaua!! banned for baby crimes so banned for baby crimes zaya banned for baby crimes when’s the wedding this says zaya 😡😡😡 closest to hell me🤝sati “when’s the wedding” this says zaya 👆💀🏡 Hanami Hagane You two better start running. banned for baby crimes WAIT ZAYA NO-

[starswornoaths]

📔

I wrote these a bit lengthy, so I’m sticking a cut here bc spoilers for 4.5 but I was an indecisive bean and there’s an entry for Serella, Uthengentle, and just because I write him enough that I might as well, one for Aymeric as well! Thank you for the ask! \o/

(edit: OR IT JUST WON’T LET ME ADD A CUT WHAT THE ACTUAL SHIT TUMBLR I’M ON THE DESKTOP SITE SO FAIR WARNING SPOILERS FOR 4.5 AFTER THIS EDIT OKAY THANK YOU I’M SO SORRY WTFFFFFF)

Serella:

My name is Serella Arcbane. (her name is underlined)

Not so long ago I would have found it ridiculous that I needed to remind myself what my name is. Given that I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve been referred to by my name instead of a title, however, I think I’m allowed. Now that I have another one, however temporary...it seemed a good time to remind myself.

Antecedent...the title carries with it too much pain. Too much loss. The remaining Scions approved of my accepting the title for lack of anyone else with any seniority willing or able to take it. I remind myself that it’s temporary, that the second even one of my companions wakes up, I get to just be the Warrior of Light again.

Just, I say. As if it were an inconsequential thing in itself.

At least then, when I was naught more than the Warrior of Light, I was able to still be Serella. I wasn’t made to isolate myself from everyone I know and love. It hurts, knowing that I had finally found family amongst so many people, so many I hold dear, who now can’t see me, either because they are unable to make the journey or because it would be improper of them to do so.

Ma came to visit me today. Her visit...I don’t know. When she called me by my name...I didn’t even respond to it at first. It was as if I had just...forgotten it. Perhaps I did. Perhaps I will again. She suggested I write it down. Said it’s how she remembers the little things about Da. I don’t know if it’ll help. I wish he was here, too. Of all the things I’ve forgotten, that I can’t remember what he looked like hurts me the most.

I’ve forgotten so many things I took for granted. So many little things about those I love. In writing, I hope I can remember at least a few- or at least, be reminded of them.

Raubahn has this deep belly laugh when I crack jokes with him- and really, he is the one constant patron of my puns, readily exchanging more with me for as long as we both have jokes to spare. Says it’s from years of being a father. I can’t remember how his laugh sounds.

Merlwyb would refuse to admit it- and if she ever catches wind of documentation of it, she’ll throw me to the Sahagin, of that I have no doubt- but I miss her singing. Low and rumbling as thunder, textured like velvet but fills the room like smoke. I’ve forgotten how the tune goes, which is ridiculous. I’ve heard her hum it a thousand times.

Aymeric...gods, for how he haunts my dreams you would think I would remember his smile. I should. I remember the things that made him smile. When I would bring sweets from that one chocolatier in town, or sweets from somewhere I had recently traveled. When I would move his bangs to kiss his forehead. Or sometimes...just when he looked at me. 

What shade of blue were his eyes? Were they a deeper shade like the night sky over the Steppe? Or was that the blue of his coat that I’m remembering? 

Why am I forgetting everything so quickly?! I have object permanence! It’s only been some moon and a sennight since I last saw everyone! I’m not some geriatric invalid rapidly losing who I am! I’m not some tempered thrall of a primal, adrift in want to serve my master and bereft of all concept of self! I am not-

(The following lines are writ with words made illegible with scribblings of ink and lines frustratedly crossed through them with enough force to nearly tear a hole in the paper. At the bottom, as if in triumph, there are only two more legible sentence:)

I am Serella Arcbane, and no one can take that from me. Not even a god.

Uthengentle:

Visited Ma over coffee this morning. I went fully intending to just say goodbye then and there. Made sense, I figured. We were leaving tomorrow.

I couldn’t say goodbye. I tried, Rhalgr knows I did. 

Had written a letter ahead of everything just in case. Only makes sense, given our line of work. Left that instead. Didn’t even have the stomach to say goodbye at the door. I left while she went to make another cup for me. I’ll have to apologize to her later. If we make it back.

...When. When we make it back. No sense in the doom and gloom; we’ve been through such shite before. Doubt this would be the end of it, either, but I can hope.

Ellie’s been having worse episodes with that voice, nearly passing out a time or two from what F’lhaminne told me. I hate I can’t be more help. I wish I could at least understand what she’s going through. All I get is headaches, sometimes a flash of an image, but it never bothers me. Krile suspects that has to do with Serella being more sensitive to aether and the Echo than I am. 

I just hope they stop once we leave. They should, right? If we’re going where we’re being called, they have no reason to keep callin’, I’d assume. Or their arseholes, and will do it anyway. Won’t matter. Let ‘em. We’ve got our family to save.

...Well. Some of ‘em. Still feels wrong to abandon everyone on the front lines. We should be there. The closer we get to leaving, the more ill I feel about it. From what Ellie said, she’s not faring much better in that regard. Said Aymeric told her to let them handle this fight, but he’s gotta know without us it could go either way. The man’s not stupid- none of ‘em are. Raubahn promised he’d defend the camp with his last breath...but I don’t want it to come to that.

Riol’s been scouting in Thancred’s place- from what he’s been able to gather, the Garleans are holding their cards to their chest. They have something big planned, and they’re just waiting for the right time to use it. Is that time when we’re out of the picture?

I hate that I don’t know, and I can’t find out before we leave.

I hate even more that we have to leave at all, but it’s clearly not something we have a choice in. Either we go to them, or we’re pulled to them. Better we still have our bodies and our senses and just bite the bullet. 

Warned Hilda to up the Watch with the Templars out of Ishgard. Not that she needs that warning; woman’s an unstoppable force already. It could be her and her alone standing at the gate if the Imperials march on Ishgard, and the safe money would still be on Hilda, far as I’m concerned.

I know my friends are capable without me around. I know they don’t need the Warriors of Light to keep them going. Doesn’t mean I don’t just want to be there to protect them- or failing that, die with them- and just fuck off to some far flung wherever.

We’ll be back before we know it. I’ll see to it myself if I have to.

Aymeric:

The battle continues into its fifth week, now. Though we have not lost an ilm to the Imperials, nor have they lost ground to us. Losses on both sides are mounting. We are hitting a breaking point, everyone can sense it. That there is a turning point fast approaching is not in question, but to which side the tide shall turn. 

O Halone shield your children from the encroaching dark, I beseech thee. 

The Warriors of Light make to leave in search of the Scions. The Alliance had to all but force them into leaving this battle to us, a turning point that came with the fear that (there is a name crossed out) the acting Antecedent had fallen to the same affliction that had claimed the rest. With her restored, however, they yet have hope to find those whose souls have been set adrift from this star. I only hope their path leads to victory, and then to home.

(the remainder of the entry is written in a different ink, presumably at a later point in time. The letters are splotched in places with drops of water.)

I nearly lost her. When Estinien laid her lifeless body in front of me, I feared the worst. We bore her to Ishgard with the full expectation that she would not wake. By the Fury, but when she did...

We are...no longer courting. I remind myself of this every time I am made to respond to one of her missives. That we are only separated by temporary obligation is beside the point: whatever relief I might have felt, whatever ache I carry in my chest will have to stay there, so long as she holds the title of Antecedent. 

Only for now. Another reminder to myself.

She yet shields me, even now, so far from the battlefield as she is made to be. Her promise still sits upon my hand. It shall do so unto death, and longer yet. I have already requested she not be allowed to take the ring from my finger. I have no need to be freed from it in Halone’s halls; regardless of her own heart, if I am the first to fall, then I will wait. I had long since decided thus, even before we were betrothed. 

I only wish I had not been so reserved with her for so long. I should have made more time for her. I swore to her I would never take her for granted and yet to dwell on our courtship, I always took her return as given. Now...now I only pray, and continue to fight that I might live to see her return.

(there are entire swaths of sentences scratched out, only some words such as, “promise,” “love,” and, “forgive,” are barely legible)

She must return. I know not what to do without her otherwise.

O Halone guide my beloved home in victory.