#but one end of Abalathia's Spine reaches to New Sharlayan

[elizabethrobertajones]

Evil AU: raised in Sharlayan as a snob and harasses the mammets about rare books

[faelune-home]

Improvise

(A/N: Cos somehow a girl managed to fire out 3700+ words over two weeks. Hope y’all like it.

Focuses on my main miqo WoL Fufu. A little night of piano playing shared w/ Alphinaud. Set during Early Heavensward

Also available on Ao3 here

@ffxiv-writers)

The door to Fortemps Manor creaked to a close, yet a sharp gust of wind managed to sneak through anyway, catching Alphinaud and making him shiver. Even after having spent some few weeks in Ishgard, he still wasn’t quite used to the chill snap that gripped the city. Perhaps now was the time to finally think about investing in a winter jacket...or maybe a new attire altogether.

He made his way through the halls, intent on returning to the room gifted to him by Count Fortemps so that he could continue his work before turning in for the night. There was already so much to be done, with the paperwork he had offered to do for the count in return for his hospitality, as well as looking into the disappearances of the Scions, and then there was the news of a primal apparently floating around Abalathia’s Spine…

Just as he had reached his door however, he stopped, his attention caught by what sounded like music further down the hall. A light tinkling of piano keys he deduced. Curiosity took hold, as Alphinaud was certain he hadn’t heard a piano within the manor before that night. Yet in his moment of distraction, his papers almost slipped from his hands, reminding him of his evening work. Caught between leaving the curious sound for the night or trying to source it, it wasn’t until one of the maids of the house passed by carrying linens, humming away with a smile on her face that he finally relented and set off deeper into the manor.

Down the corridor, and round a corner, passing yet another humming maid, the music grew louder, until he finally came to a partly opened door. Barely wide enough to allow any light out, yet the music flowed out into the hallway. Yet while he had found the source, one finally question itched, just one more answer, who...

Peeking through the crack in the door, he saw Fufu, the Warrior of Light sitting at the piano, tapping away at the keys. Her tail swished happily behind her, and her pigtails swung side to side as she swayed along to the melody of her own making. He almost wanted to assume he could hear her humming along as well. An occasional fumble of fingers would send an off key note, yet her deft hands could follow up and keep on track, and it was like it hadn’t even happened. The atmosphere within the room seemed so jovial for only having one person inside. But then she did seem to have the talent to bring cheer with her wherever she went. Was it a Bardic skill or something naturally inherent to the miqo’te?

Alphinaud had often dismissed her musical moments in times past, considering it time that could’ve been better spent on other tasks, yet now there he stood, drawn in by her whimsical little tune. In fact, before he could argue with himself to simply leave and go back to his room, having solved the mystery that had briefly snatched him, he stepped forth and pushed the door open fully, the groan of the hinges catching the occupant’s attention and bringing her merry tune to a halt. 

Fufu spun round on the piano stool, giving her companion a broad smile and saying, “Oh, welcome back! I didn’t realise you’d gotten in.” He returned her greeting with a light nod of his own and said, “It’s no worry, I can see you were quite busy.” 

Her ears flicked and she hummed, “I might’ve been a bit too into that one, I’m not even certain what time it is now.” As she turned to try and catch the chronometer in the room, Alphinaud stepped forward and asked, “Actually, could you play it again? If it’s alright.” This earned him another broad grin and an enthusiastic nod.

“Of course! I’ll try my best.” She turned back to the piano, however rather than start playing again, she shuffled over on the seat and patted the empty space, looking expectantly at the elezen. Though somewhat surprised at the gesture - after all, there was a perfectly good couch within the room he would’ve gladly taken instead - he stepped forward and joined the miqo’te on the seat, placing his papers on the side table.

As the warrior’s fingers continued to dance along the keys, picking up the melody once more, he couldn’t help but watch, mesmerised at how they moved now that he had a closer view. Hands long calloused from her work with the bow now tapped away and created a bubbly little tune, so fitting for her character.

“How long have you known how to play?” he asked, the question coming to mind as he recalled seeing her more often with a harp for her minstreling, as well as the single time he had seen her strumming away at a small lute.

“Only a few weeks, really. Started a few days after we first got here,” she answered, never stopping her merry tune. Alphinaud blinked, surprised.

“Truly?” She nodded, then leaned closer to him like she was sharing a secret and added, “If you were to ask how long I’ve been playing well, the maids stopped giving me dirty looks last week I think.” Then she laughed, and the song seemed to jump up in rhythm with her. He wasn’t quite deterred however, as another question nagged at him.

“But...how? Did you learn, I mean.” At this, Fufu took one hand off the piano, the other continuing to play, picked up a book from the table next to her side of the piano and handed it to the younger boy, saying, “I taught myself. I found this book in the library while I was looking for something else. Apparently Lord Edmont tried to have Artoirel learn when he was a boy, but it didn’t really work.”

Alphinaud flipped through the pages, noting how easily presented most of the information was - ‘most’, as he could only assume the book was meant as a companion piece for an actual instructor. Yet all the same, it seemed understandable, and if one had the drive enough to learn…

“I’ll confess, I’m impressed,” he admitted. This earned him one of her wide grins, her sharpened teeth catching the light. Curiosity mostly sated now, he turned his attention to the music sheet on the stand, only to realise something else.

“Have you been improvising this whole time?” Indeed, while the tune was similar to the one that had initially drawn him to the room, there was a noted difference in how it was played; a higher key perhaps, and what seemed initially like the repeated chorus was instead rather different. Fufu nodded vigorously, saying, “Yup! The sheets were good to learn, but this is more fun.” Now completely at a loss for words at his companion’s skill, the boy could only sit, listening with a much keener ear as the miqo’te tapped out her free flowing music.

Even when she eventually drew one song to a close - with an over exaggerated flourish that Alphinaud couldn’t help but smile at - she started another afterward, this time a slower piece, more fitting over a wind down for the night. The lower notes of the tune seemed to thrum in the air, and he could feel the low buzz in his chest. Logically he could say it was just the close proximity to the piano, but at this point he wouldn’t quite be surprised if it were Fufu’s doing…

“Did you ever learn an instrument?” He was snapped from his unexpected reverie, seeing the woman staring at him intently after her question, the music itself even slower now as her attention had shifted.

“I mean,” she continued, turning back and picking up her pace again, “to my knowledge, it just seems like something fancy families try to do with their kids, like Lord Edmont and Artoirel.” At the reference, her ear flicked toward the book resting on Alphinaud’s lap, however his attention had been caught elsewhere.

“Fancy?” he echoed, looking mildly offended at the remark. The music finally came to a complete stop as she turned to face him, an amused smirk on her face. She repeated, “Yes, fancy. You got to receive a high class education at a renowned school—“

“The Studium is open to all, even some few outside of Sharlayan,” he countered.

“Well, you’d walk around using your family name in so many places like it’d just open all the doors, and actually I think it did a lot of the time.”

He flinched, recalling how that arrogance had saw them flee to Ishgard in the first place for safety, yet he argued back anyway, “That was far more to do with the impact my grandfather had in Eorzea as opposed to—“

“Your family has manservants,” she interrupted, with a degree of finality in her voice that made him stop, and despite a light stammer as he tried to respond, he ultimately hung his head and said, “Fine. I suppose that isn’t a common thing for most families.”

“Nope, only fancy ones,” she replied, still wearing that amused smile. Then she leaned in close, as though waiting. Recalling her initial question, a small smile crossed his lips as a memory came to him.

“I’ve never learned, nor has my sister, but mother did suggest it once. She always said it would allow us to appreciate the arts or something similar.” He then chuckled, “Alisaie almost threw a fit at the idea, saying that she didn’t want to end up being dolled up and forced to perform for others entertainment, much to mother’s disappointment. I told her I wasn’t much interested either, and she didn’t bring it up again.” 

The miqo’te hummed. “I see.” Then leaned back into the boy and asked, “Do you want to learn how to play?”

He blinked, curious. “Are you offering to teach?” Fufu shrugged, looking sheepish as she said, “I don’t know if I’d be that great of a teacher, but I could try. And if I’m not, then I could maybe see if Jehantel wouldn’t mind helping.” 

Although tempted, Alphinaud shook his head, saying, “I appreciate the offer, however I think I’ll decline. At least for now. We both have far too much happening right now to dedicate any real attention to any lessons.” He had his own duties after all, and as well as helping the Fortemps in her own way, he knew that Fufu had also picked up some extra errands amongst the local Ishgardians. In hindsight, her having self-taught herself the piano on top of her many duties was all the more astounding.

“That’s fair,” she nodded, fortunately not looking too upset at the rejection, “But the offer’s always available for the future, if you change your mind!” He nodded, smiling back at her, “Of course.” Satisfied, the woman adjusted herself on the seat and lifted her hands to the keys once more. 

She beamed, “One more song before bed then?” She didn’t wait for an answer, not that the boy would refuse, and started playing. It started a bit slowly, a muddle of low notes as though she were still deciding on what to play, before the tune seemed to collect itself. It was another slow song, and Alphinaud could definitely feel himself starting to relax with it.

“I have to admit, you do have a way with music,” he sighed, trying to resist the urge to lean against the miqo’te and disrupt her playing, even if the soothing melody seemed to be making him feel rather sleepy. “That you can teach yourself how to play something like this while also keeping up with so much else, and then the ability to improvise besides.”

Fufu shrugged, “I wouldn’t say it's that special. The improvising I mean. I just kinda play away until it sounds right then keep playing that.”

“Tis a talent nonetheless. A valued one for any field. Even in battle, should the need arise, being able to adapt freely is a useful skill.” Fufu nodded at his words, though she still looked unsure.

“Maybe… I’ll be honest, improvising is fun with music, but in a combat situation, I still prefer working from a plan. If I have to start thinking on my feet when the plan isn’t working then fine, but having an idea of what to do feels a lot more secure. I’ve gotten a lot more done with others to tell me what to do than I have just doing stuff on my own.” At this point, the music had stopped. The miqo’te simply stared ahead, over the piano and straight out the window at the drifting snows outside.

Concern for his friend at her very sudden mood change shook the drowsiness from Alphinaud’s mind. “Come now, you act as if you’re no better than a common soldier following orders.”

“I’m not saying that’s what I want,” she sighed, shrugging her shoulders. “I’m just saying there’s...comfort, I think, in having someone else step up and know what to do. It’s reassuring when I’m lost.” Then a small smile came upon her face, as her eyes shone in remembrance.

“Actually, that reminds me… I didn’t really want to share this, just because I thought it’d seem overly sentimental and silly--”

“Really? I suppose that would be out of character,” the boy interrupted, with what he hoped sounded like a tone of levity. To his relief, Fufu smirked, clearly amused as she gave him a light nudge with her arm, then said, “Please, I’m trying to be serious. And I do know when to stop before something is too much.”

She leaned back, staring at the ceiling, hands holding onto the edge of the stool, and after a long pause, she started, “It was after the attack on the Waking Sands. I was just supposed to go back and see Minfilia and find out what was happening next. Maybe it would’ve been dealing with Garuda anyway, maybe it’d be something else, another ascian trail hunt, I don’t know. And I never really will because of everything that happened.” The mood had turned sombre again.

“I didn’t know what to do. The only thing I could do was go to the church near Drybone, ‘cos that’s what Minfilia said...it was the last thing Noraxia told me. And even then, while I was there, I just did what others asked or suggested, trying to help where I could to feel useful, but I didn’t really know what to do. Y’shtola and Yda were missing and I didn’t know if I could get in touch with them, and the Garleans were looking for Echo users so I didn’t want to go back to Gridania in case they attacked there. And when it looked like they were near the church anyway targeting Cid, I thought I’d have to run off just in case to keep people safe, but then…”

She stopped, straightening up in the seat, and after another pause that almost had Alphinaud consider jumping in himself, she said, “Well I guess the most honest thing I can say is that you showing up was a big help to me.”

He blinked, rather taken aback at her statement. “Me?”

She nodded. “Yup. Like I said, I already had no clue what to do at that point, so when you showed up saying we were going to find Cid’s airship and deal with Garuda - well, of course we got caught up in all the Ishgardian bureaucracy which made it take longer, but the point is, it was more of a plan than I had. And after Operation Archon, you were the one that suggested the move to Revenant’s Toll for the Scions so we could work on more neutral ground-”

“I fear you’re giving me far too much praise here. So often I’ve worked in tandem with others, to claim sole credit would be rather arrogant.” And Twelve knows he was aware of his follies as it was.

However Fufu shook her head. “I know you didn’t do everything alone, of course not. But I’m talking about the things you did do. There’s nothing wrong with acknowledging that. Hells, we wouldn’t be here in Ishgard if you hadn’t put in the work to champion on their behalf during the dravanian attacks.”

At this, Alphinaud shot to his feet and snapped, “We’re here in Ishgard precisely because of me! Twas mine own fault that we have lost our comrades and been forced from the Stones-”

“No,” she countered forcefully, getting to her feet to stand beside him, even if she was yet taller than him, “That was not your own fault, that was the Braves-”

“And they were my responsibility, I share the blame for not realising that they were never truly under my command. I led them into the city states and proclaimed them protectors of the people. I was the fool and I don’t deserve the admiration you seem to have for me.” He stepped out from the piano stool and made for the door to the room, ready to make for somewhere else, anywhere else, when Fufu grabbed his arm and stopped him with a pleading, “Wait, please.”

When he didn’t move any further or try to shake her grip, she gently pulled him toward the couch in the room, sitting them both down. He initially looked away, the guilt dredged up from his outburst preying upon his mind and making him think back and replay that night’s events again, until he felt the woman take his hand. Looking back, he was surprised to see her eyes shining with their own guilt, her ears flat against her head.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I didn’t mean to make it sound like I had some blind hero worship for you. I only meant that I was grateful. Like I said, when I was left at that church with nothing to do except take on other people’s favours, I was just lost. You just put me back on the path to actually doing something.” She then squeezed his hand tighter as she looked down, somehow even more downtrodden as she continued, “Thinking about it, maybe I was blind actually. I could’ve said something about the Braves since I helped to set it up, and I was there for nearly every step of the way, but I never saw anything. I just knew that every other idea had worked out fine, so perhaps this would as well.”

Finally giving him a rueful smile, she said, “Maybe I deserve the blame for the Braves as well.” 

“No,” Alphinaud said firmly, taking his hand from her and readying to argue, until Fufu grabbed his shoulders and said with her own adamant certainty, “Then stop. What’s done is done, and we can only move on. Isn’t that what we’re trying to do? Remembering our mistakes is fine, if we only use that to improve. And you’ve been good about that, just every now and then you get really down about it like you’re still the only one at fault for it.” Alphinaud nodded, feeling a touch sheepish at her impassioned words.

“You’re right. My apologies, I shouldn’t have gotten quite so pathetic there,” he sighed, giving her a grateful smile in return. Fufu smiled back, clearly relieved.

“Good. We don’t have any time for that sort of pity party after all,” she chuckled, ruffling the boy’s hair and giggling harder at his indignant, “Hey”.

“And for what it’s worth, the Braves were a good idea in theory. You did have a point when you said that we Scions would need our own personal force to help all of the city states. We just didn’t account for...well, everything else.”

He nodded. “I suppose so, but I doubt we could make a second attempt at such a thing. People would be less trusting of the idea, not to mention so long as monetarists like Teledji or Lolorito exist, they would still try to gain advantage of the group.”

“Or make it harder for them to do their jobs,” Fufu added, recalling the pompous statue of Lolorito that stood in Vesper Bay; his answer to the Scions refusing his advances.

“Well, we’ll just have to work twice as hard to make up for,” she stated, sitting up straight and punching her fist into the air. The miqo’te then turned to face the boy again, giving him a broad grin as she said, “And I want you there with me.”

“You’re quite certain?”

She nodded. “You’re still better at making plans and strategizing than I am. Just because you worked more with others before, or a few of those ideas didn’t work out like you hoped doesn’t change that. So I want you to keep doing what you do best. And in return, I’ll try and do my part to make sure they’ll work out, or even stepping up to tell you if it won’t work. I won’t leave you to take the worst of it.” She held her hand out, and after only a moment’s thought, Alphinaud nodded and took it, the two shaking firmly.

“I would like that a lot,” he said. Just then, a loud chime broke out in the room, making them both jump. The chronometer on the wall read 10 o’clock.

“Gods, has it gotten so late?” He sighed, mumbling, “I won’t be able to do much of that paperwork now.” He stood and collected the papers from beside the piano, bowing politely to his companion and saying, “Thank you for tonight. The music and the discussion. I feel like we stand on more even ground now.”

“We didn’t before?” Fufu asked, albeit with a smile.

“Maybe we did...but this was nice to confirm all the same. Now if you’ll excuse me, I should head to bed.” He turned for the door, however the miqo’te’s call of “Wait!” stopped him. Turning back, he watched her stumbled quickly back to the piano and, to his amusement, pat the stool seat beside her.

“I didn’t get to finish playing properly before. So,” she turned, eyes glowing, “one more song before bed?”

He joined her once more. “Feel free, my friend.”