#solus zos glavus x wol

[theaetherhealerffxiv]

[theaetherhealerffxiv]

Me:realizing that Emet is actually over 6ft and Swath canonly is 6ft. 

Hey, at least I can draw him snuggling a (slightly) shorter Swath.

[theaetherhealerffxiv]

Redemption pt 1

Part 2

Rating: PG17 for safety

Pairings: Wol  x Emet-Selch

Summary:

Its over, the winner gets to write the next chapter of the story. So why, pray tell, wont the Warrior of Light let him die?

Word Count: 5906

He stood upon the precipice of death, he could feel it, the reaching of its cold fingers. The Underworld calling him down to rest. Hades’ shoulders slumped as he reached up to graze the glowing wound in his chest. A gentle smile crossed his lips as he heard her take a step forward. His gaze returned to her, the Viera that he had grown so fond of. He had followed her around during her adventure, only partially out of necessity for his plans. The other part had been curiosity, her soul glowed with familiarity and before their fight he realized why; realized who. His lover, his dear friend, the one who he tried to convince to help with Zodiark all those eons ago. Her, whose name he could not even fully recall. 

The Viera’s mismatching eyes stared at him with an intense emotion he could not place. Her hands reaching out to him, he wanted to speak, to tell her to remember all of the lost souls in Amaurot, to take his burden of vengeance from him. Instead her hands now free of her weapons cradled his face, her lips moved, she was speaking to him. What could the Warrior of Light possibly have for him? Her hands were so warm compared to his cooling skin, he could happily let death take him here. She would remember for him, she would become the stewards of their souls. Their hopes, their dreams; she would do it for him. 

Suddenly his eyes opened wide, even as the darkness settled in. She had her hands cradled around him: his body laying in her lap. One hand upon his chest, the other making sure his head was resting upon the soft spot in her armor. His name, she was calling his name; not Emet-Selch, not the Ascian, nay she was calling his true name.

“Hades,” Her broken voice reached his ears, “Hades yah cannot die here.” 

Ah, but that was the point was it not? The winner decides the history, the winner gets to decide how to move forward. He was the loser, he was no longer needed in this story. His terrible contributions had already been written in the annals of history. It was her turn now, to shape the story of the world, to write the wrongs he brought upon the Source. Pain constantly laced through his shape, as if she was trying to capture his soul. To keep it whole and in the body that was before her. With what little strength he had Hades lifted his hand to touch hers. He could feel the tears splashing against his cheeks. While her form was blurring he patted her hand. She had to let him go, but what would let her do that?

“Hero,” His voice croaked, it was insanely hard to speak. To move his mortal lips as his very soul was being pulled into the Underworld. “No, Swath.” There was a choked sob as he realized he had her attention. “Remember us -”

“No,” She spat, silencing him. “I da not have tha time to remember somethin yah should be doing. Yah have a chance ta make up for things.” Her voice petered out for him, he could see she was still speaking, but could not hear her. 

Nevertheless he smiled internally, his time was up could she not see this? Death was taking him, she was only fighting against the inevitable. Besides, why was she trying so hard to save her enemy? Had she too grown fond of him? Hades tried to squeeze her hand but found no strength remaining, instead his hand slipped, and fell to the side. Her lips moved, clearly a curse. Beside her the Miqo’te woman appeared touching her shoulder, probably telling her to let him go. That he was not worth it. 

Good, she would knock some sense into the hard head of the Warrior of Light. Hades had seen her time and time again pay attention to the Miqo’te woman's words. It was clear that she held the blind woman in high regards. But with his fading eyesight he saw the Hero shrug off the hands that tried to stop her. 

Why? 

Why? 

Why was she trying so hard to keep him alive?

Hades’ view of her finally faded and turned to white. In fact, everything around him was white; he no longer felt her hands clutching him, instead only feeling a small sting on his chest where he assumed that she was still trying to heal him. As he collected himself, Hades realized he was not alone: and that his body was not free. Dark chains kept him grounded to the spot, and a man clothed in a familiar white stood before him. It was a long moment of silence between them before the man stepped forward grabbing one of Hades’s hands and pulling - hard. With a sharp pain in his chest, a call and vision of the Warrior of Light, he felt the chains that bound him snap one by one. Suddenly, he was free, his body light airy and unnatural. No voices of the dead reached his ears, no whispers of the promised ending that he had been striving for. Nothing, his mind was silent except for his own spinning thoughts. Shocked he looked up to the man who had a mask that he knew.

“Hythlodaeus,” Hades breathed standing straight for the first time in eons. The other man beamed and smacked his friend on the shoulder; causing Hades to wince. 

“Hades! How does it feel to finally be free of that Primal?” Hythlodaeus reached up and removed his mask, revealing a face that Hades did not recognize. It was of a Elezen man in his twenties, bright blue eyes and white hair adoring his face. 

Hades felt his brow pull together in confusion. At the realization that he was free of the tempering, and that his friend wore a face that he did not know. “I cannot say.” He reached up, rolling his shoulders and looking down at the glowing blue hole in his chest. That as he turned to gaze back at his companion realized that Hythlodaeus had one as well. His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak before a hand raised to silence him.

“Surely you can hear her?” Hythlodaeus glared at him with surprising ire. His friends sudden shift in tone brought even more confusion to his already spinning mind.

Hades could of course hear the Warrior of Light, Swath, calling and speaking to him. It was faint, but there. He nodded, and Hythlodaeus sighed a smile once again adorning his unfamiliar features. “Good, I knew she would not allow someone to die so similarly to I.” 

Hades’s frown grew. “Excuse me?” It seemed he was only capable of short bursts of speech, perhaps it was the cascade of freed emotions that stunted his ability to speak, or perhaps the whirl of thoughts that echoed through his mind. All his thoughts, thoughts of her, of the past, of the fact he was freed. Thoughts of the other Ascians, still chained to Zodiark. He stared at Hythlodaeus with continued confusion, the other man doing little to explain himself. Hythlodaeus paced around Hades wagging his index finger in the air, as if he was counting to himself. Those deep blue eyes darting looking at the fading chains that lay on the ground around them before looking up at Hades with an even wider grin. A small thin string appearing in front of him. Hythlodaeus turned and presented it to Hades. Who only looked at him with awe of a man who was lost. 

“This is your tie to her, fainter than I thought it would be honestly.” He regarded the string with curiosity and touched it, causing a sharp pain to shoot through the center of Hades’ wound. The golden eyed man crumpled to the ground and his old friend only laughed in triumph. “Faint but strong!” 

Hades glared at Hythlodaeus from his position on the floor. “Pray forgive me, my old friend, but I am wholly confused about this situation.” Perhaps it had been the pain that cleared his mind, but for the moment he was able to focus on the strange, but familiar, asshole before him. “I am supposed to be dead, am I not?”

“You are only partially dead my dear friend.” The Elezen swooped down helping Hades stand and dusting him off. “She is clinging to you, I assume it may be because of the familiarity of your wound, or she has truly grown fond of you.” A gentle smile appeared on his face, content, happy. “It was time she moved on from me, and I am glad it is you that has allowed her to do so.” 

Hades gripped his friend's arm with a frown. “You? Hythlodaeus you said to me eons ago that,”

“That I gave up on her? That I surrender and give her wholly to you?” A smirk graced Hythlodaeus’s lips. “Pray tell Hades, how did that go for you? Did you remain by her side even after the sundering as I? Did you support her even in her most dire moments?” 

Hades paled, turning to look away. “Nay, you know I have done the opposite.” 

“That's right,” Hythlodaeus shifted and pointed to the glowing thread. “And yet, that is still there for you. Her will to hold your soul, even though hers is broken.”

Hades winced, some lover he had truly been. He had pledged himself to Swaths whole form back in Amaurot, but he had fallen into contempt and anger whenever he saw a fragment of her soul. 

Oh, if he just followed the plan she would be whole once more. 

He would be able to hold her once more in his arms, and he would beg her forgiveness from his infidelity. Explain it was part of the plan to lay out the work towards bringing her and the others back from the brink of oblivion. 

“Fool,” Hythlodaeus’s angry voice pulled him from his thoughts. “How much of that was Zodiark and how much was that you? The Hades I knew may have been a lazy good for nothing but he loved her. He would have remained by her side even if she was fragmented.” 

Hades knew he was right, and could not face him because of that. No apologies would bring about forgiveness. He had pushed her, pushed Swath, to the very edge; to the point of having to kill him. All as a final test to see if she was worthy. She was, by the very creation magic that put him in this situation,she was. Her soul may have been split but she was still her. Which is why he had been so curious and drawn to her. The temptation to be with the one that he loved was ever present, even while he was tempered. Clutching his chest he felt the pain increasing, and looking towards the glowing thread he, surprisingly, felt tears come from his own eyes. 

“Hythlodaeus.” He groaned, trying to pull away and finding no resistance from his friend. “I wish for another chance. I wish to be by her side, to make up for my mistakes to,”  He froze as he almost touched the thread. Then feeling a pang of misery explode in his chest. 

He had no right to ask for these things. 

“That's right Hades, you do not have any right to ask for these things.” Hythlodaeus came to stand next to him watching Hades’ hand shake as it hovered of the thread. “But you want them anyways don't you?” 

“Yes.” He hissed. “I wish for it, I crave it Hythlodaeus. I wish to see this world that she fought for so fervently through the eyes of a man untouched by a stronger beings will.” 

“Even with the knowledge that she herself may be tempered?” Hythlodaeus had a familiar irritating smile dancing upon his unfamiliar face. Making Hades fight to resist the temptation of rolling his eyes at his long time friend. 

“She fought for this world before being chosen to champion that dreaded creations will did she not?” He spat back, then blinked at the unbridled anger that he felt. He would not justify his actions and choices however tempered he was. But when it came to her he would fight for her actions because she did them with the belief that she could save everyone. Hythlodaeus’s smile grew wider, causing Hades to glare at him.

“There, that is the man I knew. It was if you yourself at one point did something similar.” Hythlodaeus leaned forward looking into his friend's eyes. “And in a way you did, did you not? You remember the fires well, you believed if you weaved the laws of the world anew, that you gave the world a will of its own, it would be for the benefit of those who existed upon it.”

“That is in the past, we understand and know how that ended Hythlodaeus.” Hades grumbled.

The strange Elezen leaned back and tapped his chin. “You where the best candidate. But no longer, now you must rise up again.” Turning to look at the thread he let his hand close over on Hades’. “You must cast aside the role originally given to you, you are no longer of the fourteen, you are no longer Emet-Selch.” Those blue eyes turned to glare at him. “You are now Hades once again, and will be hers. Your mighty magic under her supervision.” His hand squeezed his companions with force. It was not anger but determination that seethed from Hythlodaeus. As if he was entrusting everything upon Hades shoulders. “You will guide her, you will protect her, you will stand where both of us have failed her.” Hades’s eyes were drawn to the glowing hole in his chest. 

“Hythlodaeus -” He began before being cut off by his friend.

“You will begin to right the thousands of wrongs you brought upon her beloved world, and to her. What you did was wrong, unjust, and of a tempered being.” Hythlodaeus stared at their clasped hands that hovered inches over the thread. “Your soul will be forever bound to her.” 

“It was never unbound.” Hades kept his gaze fixated on their hands as well. He could hear the arguing she was having with her companions, with the Exarch specifically. How many of her friends were telling her to stop, that she may push herself to the brink of death as well, and how they did not wish for that. Only for her to spat back that for once she wished to do something inherently selfish. That this was her need to be selfish, that she wanted Hades to live. Suddenly Hythlodaeus withdrew from Hades, causing the man to suddenly feel pain so great it sucked the air from his lungs. Shocked he looked over at the sullen Elezen. 

“My hot chocolate recipe is hidden under a false board in my office desk.” Hythlodaeus raised to point at his face. “This ones, my fragments office. It will bring her joy, learn to make it for her. She often burns her hands when dealing with hot drinks. But is a wonderful cook, and she can sew.” He smiled solemnly. “Return to her now, with your new found freedom Hades. Be there for her where I cannot.” 

Many questions were left unanswered for Hades as the pain caused his hand to drop just enough to touch the thread. Gasping, he turned his head to look at is as it wound itself around him, through the wound in his chest, around his throat, creating binds around his wrists. It was not a stifling imprisonment but one where he could feel the warmth of another being. He heard a gentle laugh as his world once again fell into light. Hades left Hythlodaes in that unending place and was forcibly thrown back into his body, choking as air refilled his lungs. 

Writhing and shivering he felt burning in his chest, and saw a weary smile spreading across the Viera’s face. “Aye, welcome back Hades.” Her tired voice reached his ears as he lifted his hand to hold hers that was still on his chest.

“By the twelve she did it.” Came a shocked male voice from beside them. The white haired one, that Lahabrea had possessed, was close by. It caused Hades to roll his eyes, still coughing, he felt something pass his lips and he groaned, everything hurt.

Shifting he felt her free her hand from his grasp to wipe away whatever was on his lips. Then leaning forward she pressed her forehead against his. He felt uncomfortable with her so close to him even though moments ago he was trying his damnedest to kill her. 

“Yes, you brought him back wonderful. Are you going to carry the Ascian back too?” It was the Miqo’te woman, her frustration was palpable, and understandable. Hades sighed and glared at her with as much malice as he could muster, which in his tired state was less than he hoped for. It was not her anger towards him, but what was directed towards the Hero. 

Then, shifting he struggled to sit up, his hand going to where the hole had been. Only to find an oozing blue scar. “Huh,” His voice, parched and strained came from his lips. It almost felt foreign, his body was so light despite being in such pain. Hades’s fingers glided across the sticky substance, which he realized was aether.  Her aether. She had used so much as to infuse this body of his with enough to create new flesh. He turned, to a worried expression, she hovered near him, her disheveled white hair and blood splattered form looked at him as he took stock of himself. When she realized he was gazing at her she gave him a strained smile, as if she was regretting her choice. “Quite selfish, bringing me back.” He teased wiping the aether covered hand on his ruined cloak. “I guess I am in your debt though, hero.” Hades sighed and there was a scoff from beside them.

“Pray tell Ascian, how could you be in debt to our foolish friend?” Thancred, yes that was his name. Hades turned to stare at him with venom. They were right to be mad at her of course, Hades understood this; he was a liability, for all they could know he still had the same plans. He did not of course. His eyes could see the aether that tied the two of them together. Their very souls intermingling in a very intimate dance that cause Hades to try to avoid looking at her. Instead he looked at his accuser.

“Yes, pray tell, she only brought me back and freed me from Zodiarks grasp.” Hades shrugged, wincing at the movement bringing his hand back to his chest; only to find her hand pressed firmly to the oozing wound. His hand met hers and the glow of their souls nearly blinded him. Hades could not remember the last time his eyes betrayed him so. There was silence around them as she wrapped her free arm around his back encouraging him to stand. Hades allowed her to do so standing on unstead feet to face the scions, and the Exarch. Those he had tried to kill, but felt no more enmity for. They were broken of course that still disterbed him, but with the words of Hythlodaeus ringing in his mind he pushed his distaste away, as there was no need for it any longer. 

“Explain thyself, Ascian.  By what form dost thou claim liberation from thy dark master?” An Elezen took a step forward, Hades struggled to put a name to the face. He knew that this one held a lot of secrets, but he kept seeing the Elezen face of Hythlodaes overlapping with this man's own.

Hades rolled his eyes and shifted to lean heavily into the Viera beside him. “The chains of temperament are no more. I care not what happens to these worlds, my plan is in shambles and I feel nothing about it.” He let his head fall onto Swaths shoulder, it was partly because he was feeling exhausted from being brought back from death and the constant pain he was in; and another part because he craved the touch of the woman. Which he partially blamed on his conversation with Hythlodaeus bringing back emotions that had been long hindered by the chains. This thought caused him to frown for a moment, perhaps it was just because he was not being manipulated any longer. His body sagged a little more and he felt her hands easily hold him up. Letting his eyes dart back to the Scions he found them regarding him carefully. 

“Your, aether, is a little different.” The Miqo’te woman muttered to herself. Her blind eyes staring at him with intent. Hades’s frown grew, it felt as if she was looking through him. Lifting his head he tried to stand as straight as he could, but found that the pain kept him in his familiar slouch. 

“Its, like, how with Swath, her soul was breaking but now its not; his was all wrapped up in something and now its just, its like its being held together.” The little girl, Ryne, caught Hades attention. He winced, she was perceptive, perhaps too much so. 

“Yes, you are right Ryne.” The woman’s cat ears perked up as she walked around Hades and his Hero. “Nevertheless, even though there is this evidence and your words, we shall not take our eyes off you. Swath, realize that you said yourself, your selfish action was to bring Emet-Selch back from death. He is your responsibility now.” She stopped in front of them, putting her hands on her hips and staring at the Viera with an expression that Hades could only see as ‘motherly frustration’. 

“I’h know Y’shtola.” Swath muttered, her hands twitching from where they held him. Hades’s eyes darted to the side to see her wincing. No, it was not regret she was clearly feeling, it was concern. Was it concern for him? Hades felt a pang of his own frustration towards the Viera woman. She truly should have let him die; even though he was grateful he did not think his life was worth the stress she would be under. 

But then again, he could not think of a time during her adventure when she was not put under some form of stress by others. If this was truly her stress why would he dare deny her such a thing? Shifting he saw the woman, Y’shtola sigh and move to look around the area in which they still stood. The Exarch, being aided by Thancred was also clearly in pain; and angry. Hades knew in which both were directed towards; him. Hades gazed at the red haired man, he had inflicted atrocities upon him in the name of his plan. He sighed heavily, letting his head fall. 

“Hades?” Swaths voice brought him back and he looked up at her with a smile that surprised both of them. 

“Yes, hero?” He asked, shifting in her grasp to better gaze at her wounded face. Her war paint was smudged, sometime during their fight she had also lost the eye patch that covered her right eye, which he could only guess was blind as it was white. Hades realized with steady horror that while he knew her soul and her motives he knew nothing of the woman herself. He did not know about the stories behind her scars, or her childhood. He knew nothing of this incarnation of his beloved. Yet, here he was falling in love with her.

Yes, he admitted to himself, he was falling in love with the Warrior of Light. 

“Are yeh alright ta walk back? I’h cannot, carry yeh.” She sighed and gave him a weary smile once again. “Yeh put up a fight yeh know, took everythin I had.” 

He gave a strained laugh. “Shall we lean against each other he-” Hades paused, correcting himself, “Swath, shall we lean against each other Swath.” Around him the silence was thick with disbelief. He looked over at the Scions, their faces scrunched with confusion and then the Exarch whose face was one of pure shock. Hades felt his lips twitch. “Yes, I too can call her by her name, am I forbidden from doing such?”

“I think you should be.” The Exarch sighed and then shrugged. “But who knows, perhaps you truly are freed from the darkness that held you.” He looked away towards the ruined buildings that Hades had created, the arena in which he and Swath fought. “And, as I am loathe to admit, we do need your help. Which way do we leave this place?” 

Hades followed the Exarch’s gaze, shifting nervously. “In truth, originally I meant this as a graveyard for all of you. I assume you realize this,” He paused and felt her pull him closer to her side. Hades planted his feet firmer on the ground as he felt Swath wobble a little bit. “I was to remain here until the rejoining happened for this shard, then flee to the shadows.” He frowned, looking at the skeletons of the phantom home he had created. “I can see about willing forth a portal of such, but I know naught of my own strength. Nor the effect Swath’s aether will have upon me - there is also the problem of being free of temperament.” Raising a hand Hades rubbed his chin, loathe to feel stubble upon it. The group looked at him with expectation, and he sighed. Resigned to his fate Hades raised his hand and willed the magic from deep within his body, but only finding pain. It was minuscule at first, a prick, so he willed a little more. Focused on the darkness, to bring for a shadow portal. Then it erupted; gasping he found his strength stolen from him. Aether welled up in his throat and he shook violently, his knees giving out. Swath gave a shout of surprise as he went down. 

His whole body heaved as he threw up copious amounts of aether. Hades felt Swaths hands on his back and the hurried footsteps of the Scions. His body shook and he choked as he threw up more, his eyes wide as he stared at the physical aether on the floor before him. After a moment he managed to take a deep breath pushing himself unsteadily back on in a kneeling position his body drenched with sweat. “Well,” He rasped. “I will not be trying that again any time soon.” 

“Perhaps not,” Y’shtola muttered kneeling and carefully examining the aether. “This seems to be the aether we attacked you with, not the abundant amounts that Swath infused within you to bring you back. It is very possible that our attack has disrupted your magic.” She stood and tapped her chin. “We clearly cannot rely on your abilities. We may have to attempt to return to the beginning.”

Swaths hands wrapped around Hades and helped him stand, he leaned more into her than he did before. Sighing and coughing, he nodded. “Perhaps, that would be preferable to me having to expel whatever is ailing me.” His voice was thick and slurred. He felt terrible, even more so, the pain which he had grown accustomed too was back one hundred fold. Hades now even wished that he had not gone at Swath with so much fervor so that she could carry him. 

“I think you deserve the pain.” Thancred muttered. Hades raised his eyebrows at the man, who stared at him with contentment. 

“Yes, while that is understandable, may I remind you that I clearly cannot possess bodies nor do I wish too. I have said this before, but I loathe Lahabrea’s choices. You need not put such ill will towards me at this very moment,” Hades mumbled back, causing Thancred to stare at him with disbelief. “There will be plenty of time for disdain for each other much later.” 

“Oh, trust me, I shall regard you with plenty of contempt.” Thancred waved his hand and helped the Exarch to the area where they came into. 

Hades eyes could see the exit; perhaps it was too faint for the aether seeing woman. He nudged Swath who looked down at him concerned, he gave her a tight lipped smile and mentioned to where the others where going. Together, they moved forward towards the edge of the area. When they got there they found Y’shtola tilting her head  back and forth, clearly squinting at the faint traces of aether. It was remnants of his old tainted aether as well. Though the pain was still great Hades lifted his hand, earning a gasp from Swath. Her hand grabbing his.

“I will be fine,” He reiterated. “I will not push myself to the point of heaving again.” She was tense beside him as Hades closed his eyes, pushing himself towards the tainted aether. It rebelled against him, and he began to feel pain so he released it. His breaths coming quick, he found Ryne and Swath both watching him carefully. “The path is rejecting me.” 

“Why?” Ryne asked stepping forward her hand hovering over the still oozing wound. Hades looked down at the girl with a feeling of surprising fondness. She truly was just a child that had been thrown into a world that she did not understand all because of another soul hiding within her. 

“I assume, it is because of how my soul is being ‘held together’, as you put it child.” Hades reached out and gently patted her head earning a rather startled smile from the little girl. “You, child, are to perceptive for your own good.” She giggled then turned to look at the other adults worrying over how to get the path to open. Hades guessed that Y’shtola had noticed the wisps of residue. 

“Is there nothing you can do Mr. Hades?” Ryne asked, looking up at him. His golden eyes regarded her with a tilt of his head. The tired gears of his mind trying to work towards a solution. He had never been cut off from his magic before, he was of the ‘true’ people. Never, in the history of their kind had one been cut off from either their creation magic, or magic in general. He frowned, looking back towards the gathering, and the slight glow that was his tainted aether.

“Perhaps together?” Swath moved one of her hands to grasp his, bringing Hades out of his thoughts to gaze at the Viera. “Perhaps if we tried together, Hades?” She looked at him with concern, he knew she was adept in magic; he did not know what magic as her weapon of choice as a giant axe. But it was not a bad idea.

“Yes,” He shifted so that their hands where interlocked. “Perhaps if we focused together, mayhaps I could use you as a conduit to properly manipulate the magic and open the pathway.” Hades frowned, and turned so that his chest was pressed against her abdomen, his head near her breasts. The man felt heat rising to grace his ears. The height difference was strange to him. He felt a hand grasp his back and they pointed their clasped hands towards the aether Hades could see. 

There was a clap of hands from Ryne as she called out to the adults. “Hey! Swath and Mr. Hades are going to try something please move!” Thancred turned with a look of confusion at Ryne, but the group dispersed anyways. Ryne too moved away from them to give them room, her smile blinding now. 

“Alright, anytime yah want to Hades. Use me as yah will.” He could not see her face, but he could hear the smile. She was enjoying herself; he was her selfish choice. Perhaps she regretted it, perhaps not, but at the moment he swore he would be useful to her. 

Closing his eyes he focused on the woman before him. He could feel her aether, warm, powerful, suffocating as it flowed over him. Faint licks of her emotions grazed him, anger, at his speech, sorrow, for the loss of the spirit Ardbert, joy at the fact that he was standing with her. Hades focused on their hands, conjoined. The welling of his own aether, so closely tangled with hers. He focused on the threads that connected him to her, using them as a pathway for his magics. Hades heard her gasp, stronger emotion washing over him. Which he chose to ignore as he built up his power. It was starting to cause him pain again, he coughed a bit, feeling more aether come from his lips. But he ignored it, ignored the small voice of Ryne asking if he was alright, to focus on the gate. 

There! 

His eyes shot open and he turned his head quickly to the area their clasped hands pointed. Suddenly a shudder of aether appeared in the spot, ripping open a portal showing the burning Amaurot. Hades pushed away from Swath, hearing her call of surprise again, chose to ignore it. His hands raised he pushed more aether into the portal; he would bypass the final days, he would be useful to her. Pain violently ripped through him, but he still was connected to Swath so it did little to phase him. Sure, it hurt and normally would have brought him to his knees, but it was as if she still had her hands on his back: and of course he realized she did. She clearly did not like this choice of his, but was supporting him. Hades laughed to himself, aether coming from his lips and wound as the portal shimmered and warped. Then, suddenly, it showed the halls that had been the entrance to the entire ordeal. He focused, grounding their combined aether there. Then, he pulled back and let himself fall back into her arms.

“That should do it.” He waved his hand nonchalantly. His breaths coming quick, and thick with fluid. “We must hurry before the grounding I placed dissipates. I do not know how long it will remain.” 

The Scions needed no other encouragement. They turned and quickly moved towards the portal; it was clear to Hades now that they too had their hurts. After the Elezen went through with the Exarch leaving Thancred, Ryne, Swath and Hades himself remaining he felt the small hands of the girl on his side. Then Thancred swiftly came to Swaths side.

“Alright, let's get you two through.” Thancred muttered ushering them towards the portal. 

“Ah, and here I thought you greatly disliked me.” Hades teased gently, leaning into Swath for support. As she too did the same.

Thancred rolled his eyes. “Swath would never leave you, thus the most appropriate choice would be to assist you.” 

Hades sighed, knowing that the white haired man was right. The Warrior of Light would not leave him; he was bound to her. As the portal approached he frowned, what sort of life would this be for him? What was in store for him now that he was free from Zodiark? 

And most importantly, could he hold up the promise he made to his dearly departed friend?

[theaetherhealerffxiv]

Young - A Emet Selch / Wol Ship Comic pgs 1- 4

Updates Every Sunday

Summary: A Young Emet-Selch casts a spell to see if he can pull the 14th from the future but instead calls the fragmented Soul of the Warrior of Light.

[theaetherhealerffxiv]

FFXIV Write - Week One - Prompt 1 - Voracious

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast​

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A FFXIV fanfiction - One shot

Pairing: Wol/wod x Emet-Selch

Rated: PG-17 [for safety]

WoL/Wod is NB with female leaning [you/yours/etc]

Word Count: 808

Summary: Someone has challenged Emet’s claim on you.

Pressing you against the wall his lips slid against yours, starved of your affection. The way he kissed you was voracious, his hands digging into your hair his hips undulating against you. You did your best to keep up with him of course. You had no clue what had caused Emet-Selch to pounce upon you in such a fashion but you could not complain. Your hands gently ran down his cloaked form: he had come to you in his Ascian garb, which raised more questions than you wanted. He shifted reaching down to snatch your legs, and with surprising strength lifted you so that you sat straddling his hips while seated on air. His lips still hot and heavy against yours; you felt him beg for his tongue to battle yours, you obliged, even as the lack of air was starting to make your head swim. After a moment more of heated touches you pulled away to swallow the sweet life giving air around the two of you. But the man that held you was not bothered. His lips moved to your cheek and then your neck, words of an unknown language spilling from his gasping mouth. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck you whispered in his ear, asking if he was alright. If everything was okay. You were rewarded with a shiver and a nip at your ear lobe. “Of course hero, pray tell why would you even think such a false thing?” He asked his breath hot on your ear. 

“No reason,” You gasp as he bit down on your neck. “You do not appear in Ascian garb often, so I just assumed --” 

“You assumed wrong my dear.” He hissed and pounced on your lips once more. The bruising kisses caused even your teeth to scrape against his occasionally. Something was wrong; had someone tested him? 

Yanking your head away you leaned forward, using the fact he held you as leverage to lean forward and pull away his collar to bite down onto his neck, causing the old Garlean to groan and bury his head into the crook of your shoulder. His hips shifting to press harder against you, his arousal clear. 

“I assumed right, my dear.” You spat back with a teasing tone. “You would not appear before me and whisk me away while my companions stood right in the room beside us. Especially when they are quite angry with you.” 

“I know naught of what I did to anger them so,” He chuckled nuzzling into the blossoming bruise that he had created upon your neck skin. 

“I do not think you are concerned with them,” You murmured reaching up to dig your hand into his hair and yanking on it to stare into his golden eyes. “I think someone tested your claim upon my soul.” 

His golden eyes darkened. “Tread carefully hero.” Emet breathed, licking his lips as he stared down at you with a dangerous expression. Your heart picked up and you smiled, in an attempt to mimic his expression. 

“Was it Elidibus?” You whispered. “Did he question why you were so obsessed with me?” His breath hitched, and you pressed on. “Or was it the fact that your great grandson wishes to fight me to the death? Only me, always me?” Your tone lowered as you pressed further, with each accusation you were rewarded with the Ascian pressing you further into the wall.  “Was it the fact that Elidibus reminded you that I have had lovers before? That I am was not faithful even though my soul has always been yours? That this was because you slept too long?” 

Emet-selch groaned and tried to resist the grip you had on his hair. His eyes hooded and lustful as he stared at your face. 

“What are you going to do oh big Ascian?” You murmured, as his hands gripped your thighs harder. Leaning forward you gently kissed his lips as he shivered in response. “How are you going to show Elidibus that I am yours even still? How are you going to steal me from your great grandson? How are you going to make sure that even after I defeat you that your memory will never fade from my mind?” 

Emet turned suddenly on his heel causing you to gasp as you released your grip on his hair. Darkness surrounded you as you heard him mutter under heavy breath. “I will mark your body and soul you foolish hero. You will always be mine.” 

You laughed as the darkness swallowed you whole, taking you away from your companions, from your journey, from the world that needed you to a small crack in the void where an emissary of darkness craved your very existence. 

More precious to him than his very life.

He would devour you.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

[theaetherhealerffxiv]

An Ascians Memories

A FFXIV fanfiction - One shot

Pairing: Wol/wod x Emet-Selch

Rated: PG-17 [for safety]

WoL/Wod is NB with female leaning [you/yours/etc]

Word Count: 2107

Summary: Emet is reminiscing about past lives of yours.

He watched you from afar, scurrying to and fro. Doing this and that for the citizens of the Crystarium. You had been ordered to rest by your companions, ‘Fighting Fit” was just a phrase he had used to describe you. He could clearly see the fractures in your beautiful soul. It pained him more than anything in the various shards. Your soul burned brighter after every cataclysm that they had caused, more whole than the other pale souls next to you. Beautiful and glowing, your light continually washed over him when he stood in your presence. Making him wish more and more to steal you away from your fate as a hero. To dote upon you to hold you close and hide you away from both Zodiark and the dreaded Hydalen. No more fighting, no more pain; no more fractures upon your soul. 

Emet-selch shifted as you ran under his hiding spot to another person. Sweat clear upon your brow when usually there would be none. He squinted, his heart aching, the final act was drawing close. What he would wish to pull you into his arms and kiss you - rejoining be damned.

Pain shot from the back of his skull as he thought those words, shifting he rubbed it. 

“And what if it comes into fruition! What if you bring about the grand rejoining and my soul is no more? That you cannot bring it back! Or that you sacrifice it?!” 

“I will not. Zodiark will bring them back, we just have to create an appropriate sacrifice.” 

Groaning he pressed his head against the cool stone of the building. That's right, everything will be right if he follows the original plan. Even your fractured soul will be healed, he had to believe in it otherwise everything would come crumbling down. His very soul would be overwhelmed if he did not believe. With the pain throbbing in his head he gazed back down at you, bent over in an alleyway trying to catch your breath. Emet knew he could easily port down there, wrap his arms around you and whisk you back away to his room. To force you to rest until you had gained back some semblance of your strength. But he knew it was futile, the plan was falling into place and he must play his part. And he knew his part had nothing to do with holding you close.

Leaning his head back he closed his eyes. There was a time of course that he would have done just that; forget his plan, forget the countless eyes upon him, he would steal away into your chambers for a passionate kiss. For a night of pressing his body to yours, of whispered promises and hopes. It had perhaps only been about one hundred years since the last time that the two of you had been together in such an embrace. He had possessed a child; grown and lived a life of a human. The life of Solus zos Glavus. A smile stretched across his face as he remembered.

Meeting you in the military academy, your eyes bright, your soul even brighter. Instantly he had assigned you as his personal guard. It of course had been the first lifetime in many years that he had been in a position of power while you had not. Why in the Allagan empire you had been his empress, and even later a fellow lord which he threw himself upon in times of trouble. Your arms had ever been accepting; but that lifetime as Solus had been truly special. Duty bound him, and duty bound you, but it never stopped you from sneaking him out of the castle at his request to have a picnic in the hills. To stay by his side during a battle and easily strike down anyone that had gotten close to him. You, instead of he, had set about the courting process. Emet-selch had founding amusing at first, but then found that he loved it. He loved being in your arms after a long day, your soft whispers in his ear telling him it was alright. That he could not please everyone, that even his family had no right to question his methods. You had been devoted to him, to the point that if it were not for status he would have wed you right away. No, instead his family wed him to a woman of pedigree, whom he had bed with disdain. After the act he would always steal away to the room that the two of you shared. Emet had even gone as far as to name you his consort. The people did not care; it was not as if the two of you could have children.

No, in that lifetime you had been male after all. The people found it romantic, you would not be mentioned in any history books as the royalty and lords did not like you, but the commoners would remember your heroic tales. 

In fact, thinking of such things reminded him of one specific memory…

------

It was a battlefield; together the two of you where in the Emperor's tent, and Solus was tending to your wounds.

“Such a foolish act, what if you had been killed Gyrus?” The Emporer chided you as you laughed, wincing as the man pull tight a bandage on your back. 

“But I am fine my love!” You teased leaning back to peck him on the cheek. For a Garlean you always found the emperor to be comically small. He scoffed and slapped your wound, causing you to cry out, then devolve into a chuckle. Watching him pout as he washed his bloodied hands in a bowl of fresh water. “Solus,” You murmured as you watched his shoulders slump. “Solus I am fine, my dear Emperor, please I beg of you turn to face me.” Standing you suppressed a gasp of pain that shot through your shoulder; you had thrown yourself in a way of an assassin that had snuck behind your battlements. You had of course been prepared for such an attack by the enemy. Regardless of what you had not anticipated was that they had company. Reaching out you wrapped your arms around Solus, who leaned back into your embrace with comfortable ease.

“Gyrus you fool.” He grumbled in your arms. Was he, crying? You frowned and pushed back his greying hair. No, his golden eyes stared at you with frustrated intensity. Leaning down you pressed a kiss against his third eye. The Emperor shivered and twisted in your grasp until he could plant a firm kiss upon your lips. Sighing you leaned back and pressed your forehead against his. Your third eyes gently rubbing against each other. 

“A fool for you,” You teased, your voice breathy. Another stolen kiss; your bodies pressed up against one another in unfulfilled passion. 

Suddenly a cough came from the entrance of the tent. Solus pulled back from you reluctantly and called out to them. It was a messenger to tell the two of them of the battle ahead of them…

----

A bird landing next to Emet shocked him out of his memories, then he heard someone call his name; there was only one person that would actively call out to him. Turning he expected your face, instead he found one of the twins, the female. He frowned, but teleported from his resting place to an area in front of her. He glared down at her. “Yes?” He asked folding his arms before him as the young girl clenched her fists as she stared at him. The Ascian knew what she wanted to ask; her face showed it. Turning away he frowned. “If I knew how to properly deal with that overwhelming amount of Light I would have told you all already.” He waved his hand at her, answering Alisaes question before she even had a chance to ask. Tears brimmed in her eyes before she turned on her heel without a second word and stormed off. He couldn't help but frown at her retreating figure, when had she been told about your condition? He had thought that the woman Y’sthola was trying to keep it a secret from them. When she vanished from his view he turned away raising his hand to his chest he gazed down at the floor. His chest burned; regret. Emet-selch knew a few tricks to mitigate the light, but that girl knew he would not share them. He also knew he could not aid them in such a way. Clenching the cloth at his breast he felt a torrent of emotional pain; tears threatening to form in his eyes. 

You had been Gyrus just a mere one hundred years ago, before that? Ellana, and even further than that Inomina - he could name every single one of your reincarnations. Each one special in his heart. But Emet cast his mind further back even still, back to when your true home had still stood. Before the final days. When the two of you walked the pale streets, studied various methods of creations… had weaved your magics together to create life. Pulling himself back into the darkness he found himself once again perched high up in the buildings. Even though he fought back tears he found himself blushing at the memory. Your magics had been strong, but even though you two had always tried to weave new creations you always fell in each others arms. 

Every lifetime he thought. In every lifetime the two of you had easily fallen into each other's arms. Passionate kisses, touches, and bodies often pressed against one another. Instead, in this lifetime, perhaps the final one you two stayed away from each other. Perhaps, he thought, it was best this way. 

Best for you not to become attached to him. For him to be the tag along, the plus one to your merry band of Scions. Sure, you two had stolen kisses and touches from each other in this lifetime. But compared to the others it was minor. You would not be too affected when the time came. If he won, he would cradle your body until you passed into the final Lightwarden. In fact he would stay with you until the moment this shard was no more. Perhaps even then he would find a way to steal your soul and hold onto it until he could find a way to make you reincarnate. But, if you won he would perhaps ask you to kiss him one last time. Perhaps he would touch your face as his body disappeared. 

Wincing once more at the pain in the back of his skull he sighed. He could not lose of course, for the sake of the thousands of dead. He could not have the fleeting whimsy of wanting to love you when his goal was so close. Emet knew he would have to succeed if he wanted to bring you back. He had too. Gazing down he found that you were gazing up at him, sweat clinging to your beautiful face. Emet sat up quickly as he noted that there were more fractures in your soul. Your eyes strained with pain and without a second thought he willed himself from his seat to before you. 

You smiled weakly as he appeared in a cloud of darkness before you. His face surprisingly wild, his golden eyes searching yours. “Ah, I saw you up there and was wondering if you wanted to go get something to eat?” You asked. Sure, the deal with the Greatwood warden had hurt you more than you had wished to admit. Everyone was starting to see that it was affecting you, but true to your word you did not want them to worry. Your smile vanished as you felt his arms grab you and pull you into him. His hands digging into your clothing. You raised your hands to hug him back. “Emet, what is wrong?”

“Nothing hero.” He responded quickly pulling away and producing a handkerchief from his pocket. Gently dabbing away the sweat on your brow. “Do you have a place in mind you wish to try?” Emet asked sticking the damp handkerchief back in his pocket. 

“Oh yes!” You exclaimed with forced energy. Throwing your arm around his you pulled it close to your chest and grinned. “There is this place up the way that sells delightful sandwiches. I wanted to and the little Oracle but they already ran off somewhere!” Pouting you tugged his arm. He sighed dramatically and allowed you to pull him along.

Perhaps, The Ascian thought. Just a little longer…

[theaetherhealerffxiv]

A Lunch Date

A FFXIV fanfiction - One shot

Pairing: Wol/wod x Emet-Selch

Rated: PG-17 [for safety]

WoL/Wod is NB with female leaning [you/yours/etc]

Word Count: 2641

Summary: Emet has given himself to you for the day, whisking you away from the Crystarium with a bunch of sandwiches for a lunch date in Amaurot, away from the prying eyes of the Scions and the Exarch. You are want to ask him questions that have been burning in your mind.  

Continuation from here

You know that he will betray you eventually, but as you clung to his arm you cared not. In the moment you could revel in your love for the Ascian, who seemed both annoyed and amused. Even you could feel the end approaching, to the point that you could no longer speak to him like this. You paused, the restaurant you wanted to visit before the two of you. You did not want to go in and order anything just yet. The moment lasted too long, and the Ascian gently tapped one of the hands that held his arm captive.  

“Is something amiss hero?” Came his curious voice, looking up at him you smiled widely. In a vain attempt to hide the pain building in your breast. 

“No! I just did not wish to go in just yet, ah let us go over here hm?” Tugging on his arm you slipped into an alleyway and beyond that a small garden that out looked the land outside of the Crystarium. “Will you sit with me for a bit Emet?” You asked releasing his arm and striding to a bench that stood amidst some flowers. You did not hear him approach but he was beside you as you sat down. “Oh, that was quick. I thought for sure you would try to talk back to me.”

The Ascian shrugged. “I agreed to come with you did I not? Twas not just to the restaurant.” He was not looking at you but out at the land beyond. “I am yours for today.” Emet murmured, a gentle blush creeping up his high cheekbones. You leaned forward to look at his face; he was blushing? His golden eyes darted away from the scenery to gaze at your face. You could not place the emotions that were painted on his brow. It was as if you were seeing a whole new side to him, but that was impossible wasn't it? He would not show anything to you in such a public place. Those moments that you two shared where over; now you were just acquaintances going to lunch date together.  Nonetheless, the tantalizing idea that you had him all to yourself for the day made you smile. 

“I do? Well, thank you.” Leaning in you gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. Only to have him turn his face and kiss your lips. What was supposed to be a thank you kiss turned into a passionate one. Emet gently held your face and shifted so that you did not have to strain your neck. He brushed back your hair letting one hand cradle your cheek and another to trace down your face and to your shoulder. You melted into the kiss, planting one of your hands on his knee and the other on the wood of the bench. After a moment Emet licked your lips but then pulled away, clearing his throat as if he did not expect himself to deepen the kiss so quickly. You blushed, watching him as he turned back to you with his tired eyes and same smile. 

“If you wish to kiss me hero all you have to do is ask.” The Ascian teased leaning back in to press his forehead to yours, as you were in the same position. 

Blushing you shook your head against his. “Emet-Selch you kissed me!” 

He hummed. “Did I now? I do believe your lips where upon my cheek first dear hero.” He smiled, staring at you with his golden eyes. 

You pulled away gently, a soft grin still on your face. This moment, you wished it could last forever. No Light sickness, no Ascian plot, no gods fighting one another, just two people courting each other sloppily. Reaching out you took his gloved hand, which he responded too, closing his hand around yours. Turning back to look out at the land beyond the Crystarium while you played with his glove. It was a peaceful delusion that you two where sharing, and at the moment you would do anything within your power to make it last as long as you could. You where about to answer to Emets earlier comment when he stood up and holding your hand gently tugged you to stand. “What is it?” You asked frowning, slightly concerned. 

Emet just smiled and tugged you gently until you stepped forward into his arms. “Would you like to retire to my chambers?” He whispered, causing you to blush again. You remember that room, with the blue hue from the outside world, the books that littered the floor and the bed that was neatly made. 

“Where is this coming from?” You teased, raising your free hand to lay on his chest. “Quite sudden asking me to come to your room, a little improper too, we have not even eaten lunch!” 

The Ascian cocked his head and bit his lip in thought. The action sent shivers down your spine, lighting a fire within your belly. Why was he suddenly acting in such a way? So seductive and gentle, as if you where his lover and not the hero of the tale that was being written, or that you where the enemy. Fiddling with a stray thread on his jacket you struggled with keeping the blush that burned your ears down; a futile fight but one you engaged in none the less.

“Well, I did say once that I wished to court you properly if given the chance, yes?” Reaching out he placed a hand on your lower hip, pulling you flush to him. Leaning forward he brushed his lips to yours, causing a gentle gasp to escape you. “Perhaps that does include a lunch date, or perhaps my hands upon that body of yours oh dear hero.” He pressed his lips to yours in a chaste kiss and then whispered in your ear. “In an embrace so passionate that it would make even the sweet Exarch, who takes joy in watching your every move, blush so.” 

You balled the hand that was upon his chest into a fist; not one of anger, but one of embarrassment and lust. Tilting your head away from his you hummed, pretending that you were deep in thought about his proposition. The painful truth was that you where. Ever since you two shared a bed, one in which the man was shirtless, you have thought of naught else but repeating such a thing. Perhaps with more touching. Of course other thoughts nagged at you, reminding you to stay rational that perhaps bedding the enemy was not something that you should be doing. Oh, but the tales he told you of the past you two shared, of the feelings that you had burning brighter than the very Light within you every time he touched you. It was tantalizing, truly tantalizing. You raised your intertwined hands and wiggled them a little. 

“Lunch first my dearest Ascian.” You cooed. Causing him to roll his golden eyes at you. “I do dearly want to eat those sandwiches.” 

“If we took some to go?” He asked sweetly. “We can eat them out upon my balcony.” 

You frowned; a chance to see more of his home? He was already giving you a treat with allowing to have him for a day, but now this? You leaned back, “You have convinced me. Let us go purchase them to go.” 

Emet smirked. “Curious are we?” 

“Oh yes,” You spun on your heel tugging him along. “I remember that room of yours. Quite messy, but the outside city seemed so interesting.” You admitted as he walked with a spring in his step. 

“Tis only messy because I enjoy researching things.” Emet shrugged, falling in-step beside you. “And after being asleep for several years, mostly my dear sons lifetime, I must catch up on some light reading.” 

“That is right,” You said with a frown. “You are Zenos’s grandfather aren't you?”

Emet-selch sighed. “I have heard tales of that boy’s.. Obsession with you my dear.  I cannot say I approve.” You turn to look at him and let a coy smile spread across your lips. 

“Well, I guess it runs in the family, no?” You teased, earning a shocked look from Emet. He was about to open his mouth in protest when you turned and raised your pointer finger to his lips. Around the two of you people hurried by unaware of the conversation you two where having. “You have followed my soul through eons.” Your face fell into a soft smile as Emet’s eyes drooped to watch you with that emotion that you could not place. “I do say that is an ounce of obsession.” 

Raising his hand he took yours from his lips so that he could speak. “That, my dear hero is because I love you. Not because I wish to fight you to the death.” Emet gently kissed your knuckle before his eyes raised to gauge your reaction.

Your face was bright red; he had said he loved you. Was that just because of your soul? Was it because of you being you? It was not because you where the Warrior of Light, no you know he hated you because of that. Could you dare to ask him what he meant? About to open your mouth to do just that he shook his head. 

“Ask me when we have privacy dear hero, not in the midst of a crowd.” He cocked his head mentioning to the swarms of people that flowed around the two of you. Swallowing heavily you nodded in agreement. You would have this answer; you needed it. Because without it you feared your heart would burst. 

“Yes, you are right.” You gave him a smile and tugged his hand to follow you once more. “We are almost there to the restaurant, what would you like Emet? My treat of course.” 

-----

Lunch basket in hand the two of you exited the restaurant and returned to the secluded park. All the way you two held hands like a pair of lovers. Was that what you two where? You blushed at the thought; after all, he did say he loved you, and you were determined to get answers. Emet-Selch turned to you and took you by your hips. Between the two of you the basket firmly kept you from being pressed against his body. He frowned and looked at you seriously. 

“Now dear hero, you know that the Exarch has been watching us all day correct? Save the kiss of course.” He clarified. “I dare not allow that man to watch as I give you intimate touches.”

“I mean, I guessed so.” You gave him a gentle smile, fighting back the embarrassment. 

“Yes, quite right. Now, when I open the portal there is a chance that he will alert your companions. He may think I am kidnapping you, because once you go through he will no longer be able to watch you.” Emet’s face was mischievous, he loved messing with the Exarch; the one being on the First that clearly confused him. “I will keep him from seeing anything we discuss, as I did twice before.”

“That, that is preferable to me.” You nodded, surprising the Ascian a little. “As for my companions please fret not. They know I will return to them, even if that means fighting my way back.” You grinned.

“Perish the thought,” Emet said leaning in to press his forehead against yours. “I would dare not let harm come to you, quite yet at least.” His voice trailed off as if he was almost forced to say the final words. He sighed and raised his hand into the air, snapping them darkness swirled around you two cool to your skin like the ocean air. “Do hold on.” He whispered as the inky blackness intensified. 

After a moment the darkness receded and you found yourself in the Ascians room once more. It was just as you remembered it: books littered the floor, some half open with papers next to them. His bed was neatly made as if he did not sleep in it much, in one of the corners was a cabinet and a washing sink. It glowed blue from the various windows, the light from the lamps dull and almost non existent. Releasing you from his grasp he strode over to one of those windows and took hold of a nearly invisible door handle. He smiled at you as he opened it, showing a beautiful and haunting city. 

“My dear, welcome to Amaurot, a home of my creation.” Emet-Selch bowed deeply sweeping his hand out in a dramatic motion. You felt a gentle cool breeze caress your cheek as you took a step forward to the balcony. Upon it sat two chairs and a table as if it was made for the lunch date the two of you were about to share. 

“Your creation?” You asked, your voice breathy. 

“Yes,” Emet nodded, raising himself from his bow to gaze out at the city. “I used the powers at my disposal to create a shadow, of what the world used to be.” He walked over to the chairs and pulled one out for you, looking up at you with a smile, clearly waiting for you to come sit.

You did so, walking forward you sat the basket on the table before sitting in the chair and having the Ascian push you in. As you began to unpack the basket you frowned. “I remember you mentioning that in our little meeting. About the world being ‘whole’. It does make sense since you call me a fragmented soul.” 

He hummed as he watched you finish setting out the meal and moving the basket to the floor. “Yes, it is the truth. This was the city that I - and you - lived in.” 

“You knew me all the way back then?” You asked with a frown, lifting a sandwich and taking a bite out of it. 

“Of course my dear hero. Why else would I chase your brilliant soul through the ‘eons’ as you so eloquently put it?” He leaned forward looking over the selection of food before him before plucking one out to nibble on. 

“So, did you love me, or them?” You asked looking at Emet carefully - you needed the truth from the Ascian.

“All of you.” He said with a sigh, as if he expected this. “All that came before you, and I will love all that comes after.” 

“You expect to win?” You asked quietly, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up two fold. One, because he admitted he loved the you now, and two, because he fully expected to one day be part of your death. 

“It is the only true outcome.” Emet sighed taking another bite of the sandwich. It was clear that part of him was in pain; you could see it in his eyes. They could not look at your face as you spoke about this. Thus, did you decide to change the topic. Such doom was not good date conversation after all.

“Well, enough of that, what about this?” You made a sweeping motion with your arm out to the city. “Will you tell me more about the city? The world when it was whole?”

Emet’s face suddenly beamed as if you asked him the question he had wished for.

“My dear I would love to tell you as many stories about our home as you wish.” He leaned forward setting his food down and looking at you with intent. “What would you like to be told first?”

You tapped your chin thinking carefully, your eyes darted to the phantom figures walking the streets. Had he even made them? “Tell me about, about a good memory.” You said lamely. 

He laughed heartily. “Happily.”

(to be continued) 

[theaetherhealerffxiv]

Redemption p4

Chapters Master Post

Ao3 link

—-

Rating: PG17 for safety

Parings: Wol x Emet-Selch

Summary:

Its over, the winner gets to write the next chapter of the story. So why, pray tell, wont the Warrior of Light let him die?

Chapter Summary:

Awaking back in the Crystarium Hades finds himself bed ridden and at the mercy of the Warrior of Light. 

Word count: 5918

The air around him was scorching, the blistering heat upon his skin caused a flush to gently spread across his cheeks, which remained hidden under his mask. His mask was red like the scene before him; falling stars came at high speeds from the sky and pelted the ground with such force that it destroyed whole buildings. In the place of stone, flames licked the very ground melting the various architecture around it; the vegetation so lovingly planted went up like a parched valley of grass during a lightning storm. Then there was the monsters, born from the fear of the people roamed the streets as well, preying on the fallen members of society that could not outrun their fears. On top of the destruction the screams of terror and the littering of his fellows bodies accented the piece like a grim painting. Yet, Hades stood above it all in an ivory tower relatively unscaithed by the termination. He was displaced from the chaos that he desperately wished to quench. At the moment he could turn upon his heel and gather with his fellows, to begin the summoning and attempt to rewrite the laws of their precious star. 

Yet he at the same time did not want to be apart of it. Instead Hades wanted to be down among the dead and dying to search for his beloved and his most trusted friend. To wrap her up in his arms and protect her from the beasts and destruction. Clenching his fist he took in a shaking breath, what was the nature of a plan that consisted of giving the planet a will? It was abstract at best - of course he believed it was their best attempt at saving their home, but gazing upon the destruction he could not help but feel that it futile. Hades would rather throw it all away to hold her again; what if she died? What if their magicks succeeded but she died? Could he live with himself if he lost the one that was most precious to him?  As he pondered his greatest fears a meteor fell dangerously close to his perch, throwing dirt and scorch marks upon his mask and black robe. 

He could leave - he could leave right at that moment. He could forsake the convocation and go to her side. Surely they could summon this will without him; each where powerful in their own right. Hades lifted his head, deciding he would not participate, he would sneak out while they conversed in the room beyond the one he hid away in.

“Ah, this was where you were hiding Emet-selch.” Hades felt shock course through his body like a sickness as he heard his title come from behind him, the voice which spoke it was rough and irritated. He had been spotted, he could no longer flee. Quickly masking as much anger as he could Hades turned to gaze at Lahabrea, whose exposed mouth was turned downward into a harsh grimace that bore wrinkles into the sides of his lips. “Pray tell, why are you out here? We need you for the summoning.” 

Feeling his brows bunch together in a deep frown Hades returned to look out at the carnage. He could push past Lahabrea, run outside, look for her. Hades reached into the pocket of his robe, in it a small pouch with a wristband made of his aether. He had been fully prepared to propose to her tomorrow.  He did not care enough currently to summon this great being. Hades understood that it was the best bet for the survival of their people, but he just did not care. He could not muster enough emotion to care about it. Instead his entire being was focused on the bloody painting before him. His lips parting as he breathed out her name, a prayer to the Underworld to not call her soul to rest. Clutching the band his gaze was captured by the destruction. A hand suddenly was slapped against his shoulder with such force Hades turned his head to glare with as much venom as he could muster to the person he knew was behind him. 

“Emet-Selch,” Now Lahabrea’s voice was low and deadly. Hades leered at him as he continued, his hand digging further into the golden eyed man’s robes. “There is little time for you to be staring at the destruction before you, I care not of your reasons to be doing such an act but we need you to hurry and come so that we can - “

Hades's eyes narrowed, a smirk of pure rage twitching at the sides of his lips. He did not care, he wanted to be with his precious people. “Save the star, write the laws anew.” Hades recited the lines without passion. How many times had he heard them? He had believed in them up until this very moment when faced with the destruction that the termination had wrought upon their home. Shrugging off Lahabrea’s hand he bowed his head, knowing he was caught between a rock and wall. He was a trapped animal; if he forsook his comrades and they succeeded, they would do everything in their power to alienate him. Hades knew if this was the case he would not be able to propose to her, or even show his face in the streets of Amaurot. Shutting his eyes he took a step forward, away from his peer. If they did not succeed, he would have abandoned his love in her time of need. Which was the better punishment? Saving the world and possibly sacrificing the only thing he truly lived for, or forsaking his future if the convocation was successful? Biting the inside of his cheek he struggled with his thoughts; he believed in the plan, even with the dread growing in the pit of his belly. It was illogical, but possible. In his mind, he could see her smiling and telling him to go, succeed, save their home. 

To come back home to her arms. 

His hand was still in his pocket and he clutched the bag one last time before walking forward with purpose to the room in which the convocation stood whispering to one another. Hades knew Lahabrea was behind him and he chose to ignore it as he took his place in the circle. Once settled into his place Hades took stock of the atmosphere and surroundings. It was the same as always - a tall dark room with chairs that had been pushed back against the wall. The table had been moved as well and in its place a crystal had been placed. Frowning at it Hades turned to look at Elidibus, who smiled at him. It was not a warm smile, or one that created an illusion of understanding and sympathy. It was cold and judging, Elidibus knew Hades was struggling and was judging his actions. Glaring at the white robed man Hades turned away, he would not be judged by the likes of that man. 

Reaching up Hades adjusted his mask absentmindedly. Realizing he still felt the heat from the window - in fact he was burning up, sweat dripping from the corners of his hairline. Taking a steadying breath Hades attempted to quell the heat, knowing it was likely futile. 

“As our final two members grace our presence, we can now properly begin the incantation.” Elidibus’ voice caused Hades to look back up, the man had his arms outstretched that same smile spread across his face. “I pray that you, my peers, will focus your various magicks upon me. I shall become the conduit for those who have chosen to give their lives for this as well. I shall set the spell in motion so that we may create a being that embodies our planets will.” Leaning his head back Elidibus took in a deep breath, and if it was possible to spread his arms out further. The various souls that had been floating around the room spilled into the man. Hades grimace; the creation power that those souls held was emmese. Could Elidibus truly contain such a power? “Come! We shall write this terrible wrong and save our people!” The white robed man tilted his head back down and smiled, indicating that the rest of those present copied his movements. 

Hades lifted his hands to mimic Elidibus’, but as he did so he felt a sting, as if something was sinking its claws deep into his flesh. It was not in one place of his body either, it happened several times over his entire form. He frowned, this was unusual for creation magic - it could drain you but it rarely caused such physical sensations. Regardless, Hades closed his eyes to briefly think of his loved ones, of Hythlodaeus who surely would ask how this went on the morrow, and of her. Of how he would propose to her, place the band upon her wrist and kiss her. Then, Hades released the thoughts before they were pulled into the spell causing it to be altered. Opening his eyes he allowed himself to be swept up with thoughts of creating a will for the planet. He focused all of these thoughts upon Elidibus, along with his magics, channeling all that he had to the white robed man to use freely. 

Everything happened quickly, there was a great overflow of magic that came from Elidibus and spread warping the very room itself and obscuring Hades vision as it encased him in a cocoon of darkness. It confused and drew Hades’ curiosity as it spiraled around his arms like vines drawing taunt enough to shape out various body parts from his cloak. Then, the vines changed they grew heavy and became chain-like. Hades jerked back in shock, trying to pull away from the magics but finding himself rooted firmly to his spot. The darkness began to recede and the golden eyed man noticed that the other members of the convocation had similar chains around them. Throwing his gaze towards Elidibus, who had the most chains out of all of them, smiling wickedly in a triumphant fashion. Shaking his head Hades followed the other man's gaze towards the middle of their circle, to where the crystal had been. There, purple crystals had grown out and around a figure that had not been standing there before. Relaxing his hands to his sides because of the weight of the aetheric chains Hades felt his stomach drop. 

They had succeeded, but something was off. The creation was dark, a shadow robed in aether, it had the aura of peace and purpose but something felt twisted. Within its hands it held the other end of the chains that had captured the convocation members. It lifted its head and carefully looked around the room, before straightening its back.  Hades felt its voice before he heard it, like something deep in his chest moving and worming its way into the core of his being, changing him. Lifting a hand to his chest he frowned, a thought of doubt drifting across his mind before suddenly it was gone. All doubt about the being before him was gone.

Then, it spoke physically. Its voice booming around the room.

“I am Zodiark.”  It said. “I shall save those who live upon me.”

----

Hades awoke with a start, his eyes flying open and with a gasp he clutched at the blankets that covered him as a hot pain laced through his chest, as if it were attempting chasing away something. His face scrunched into a tight grimace as he attempted to catch his breath.  Only for a coughing seizure to tear through his chest as the pain subsided, raising a hand he grasped at his breast. Hades eyes darting around the darkened room, where was he? After his coughing subsided the man cast his mind back to the last thing he remembered - that he had been holding onto Swath as they flew towards the Crystarium. Once they had reached a cruising altitude his memory abruptly failed him and faded to an unfamiliar darkness. As realization of what had happened dawned upon him, he cursed low under his breath. Of course his foul luck would lead him to passing out against the hero. Struggling with an unfamiliar and weak body, Hades managed to prop himself up on his elbows. In the dim light see that his chest had been expertly bandaged, while clearly already blooming with his bodily fluids. He could see that it was done by the hands of an expert. Had his hero been the one to do such? Was she capable of such ministrations? Taking a deep breath he decided to ask her when she came into the room, then moved his attention away from his thoughts to the room around him.

Turning his head he saw a basin resting on the side table, with a dirty cloth stained with blue aether and blood similar to the colors that stained his chest, but duller. Curious now, Hades shifted to lean on one arm as he lifted his other to find it too had various small bandages covering the cuts that had dotted his skin. Raising his eyebrows and taking a second to marvel at the craftsmanship he exhaled sharply, leaning to lay upon his back once more. Then, with his raised hand he reached up to press the palm to his forehead. Feeling a lump begin to grow within the pit of his stomach, Hades was frustrated, mostly at himself. He had passed out while they had flown to their next destination. He could only imagine the trouble he had caused Swath; he was clearly in her room. While he had not watched her as she had rested, but he had allowed himself time to become familiar with the various objects that decorated her abode. As he gazed at the room another frown graced his features. Why was he so concerned with causing trouble to her? She wanted to use him to live, was this not what she wanted? His hand tightened his fingers gripping his disheveled hair pulling it taunt. Using each other, that was the deal right? Then why did it make his heart heavy when he thought of her face, strained and exhausted? 

An unbidden frustrated moan slipped from his lips. 

Hades was a fool, he realized this with sudden clarity. His heart was heavy because he cared, he cared about her emotions, cared about her. He had hours ago felt his heart begin to fall for the Viera, why was he denying it now? Why was he trying to cling to his nonchalant temperament that he had while he was tempered? 

No, his personality had not even been that, it had been disconnected from the world around him. He had been but a ghostly participant. Now he had been thrust back into the realm of the living and he was feeling things he no longer understood. Letting out a groan he tore his hand away from him and let it drop to his side. Realizing this made him think about the emotions he had felt looking at Eulmore, was it regret? Had he felt regret because his actions? And what about when he was trying to be useful to Swath by opening that portal? Had it been determination? 

Shutting his eyes for a moment he attempted to sort through the various emotions that swirled in his breast. It was overwhelming, and while he should sort through them and rediscover himself it was not the appropriate time to be dealing with his new found freedom. Shifting he opened his eyes and sighed. It was useless to try to conjure these feelings in a futile attempt to understand. His mind was still a swirling mess but, as usual he had to attempt to set aside these thoughts and focus on other more pressing matters. Swath could still come back at any moment and she did not need to deal with a bed ridden Ascian that was attempting to recall exactly what certain emotions felt like. That was not a disaster that she needed to help him sort through, and the Ascian had a feeling that if he allowed himself to wallow in these thoughts she would.

 Instead he gazed around the room with a frustrated and strained smile on his lips. As he released those twisting thoughts and allowed his mind to drift back to the dream he had right before waking up. In an attempt of a distraction for his wandering mind.

As Hades recalled the various parts of the dream he realized that, no, it had not been a dream. He now frowned, his brow furrowing deeply; it had been a memory of the destruction of Amaurot and the creation of Zodiark. Hades had not been plagued by that dream since Elidibus had awoken him. The memory had once been fuel that had stoked the fire within his chest, but now it only caused a knot of indescribable emotion to form in the pit of his belly. It twisted violently and uncomfortably as he thought about the chains of the primal, chains he had honestly forgotten about initially. Until Swath had destroyed them. Had it been because Zodiark was truly a primal? With the ability to alter one's will?  Sighing Hades pushed the unpleasant thoughts away to the best of his ability, he knew once again it was not the best time to be wallowing in the various tragedies and mistakes of his past, nor the possibilities of what Zodiark was. Those thoughts were for another time. Laying back upon the pillow he groaned as pain shot through his breast, taking in a breath he shut his eyes only for a moment before he heard the door at the foot of the bed open.

“Thank yah, I’m fine though, please continue the celebration without me!” Swaths voice was strained with false excitement, clearly intent on getting whomever was bothering her to leave her alone. Hades shifted as she spoke, leaning on his elbows again as he caught a glimpse of her white hair and ears through the divider. The rest of her was obscured by the wood design and the darkness of the room. He frowned, as her ears folded back, clearly the individual was trying to coerce her to return to the festivities. “Nay,” She said again her voice now low. “I’h must check on mah guest, did yeh forget that he is unwell?” There was a low apology and then a sigh from the Viera. “Aye, I’h know, thank yah again. Please go enjoy tha party.” With that she closed the door and let go of a breath that Hades had not realized she had been holding in. 

From his place on the bed he watched as she pressed her forehead against the door, her shoulders drooping. Raising his eyebrows he tilted his head a little, his hair falling in the way of his view. After a moment of watching her Hades cleared his throat. “Attempting to escape the festivities held in your honor hero?” He watched with a twang of joy as he saw her ears straighten and a smile spread across her weary face as she turned to gaze at him through the divider. 

“Yah are awake,” She moved with surprising swiftness as she hurried to his side. Hades’ golden eyes followed her as the feeling of joy spreading from his belly to the rest of his body warming him. His brows turned down into a gentle expression as she reached the side of the bed and collapsed to her knees. “How are yah feelin?” Swaths hand reached out and pressed against his forehead, and momentarily he shut his eyes reveling in the feeling of her touch. He was growing accustomed to it, and honestly beginning to crave it. She rested her hand there for only a moment before shifting and gently thumbing over his third eye, another more familiar sensation jolted through Hades as he struggled to stay on one arm as he lifted his right hand to seize her hand in an attempt to make her stop her movements.

As he gently moved her hand away from his third eye he smiled his signature lopsided smile at her. “I am doing much better thanks to the many ministrations you performed upon me.” He nodded towards the soiled bowl. Moving her hand away from his grasp she gingerly pressed down on various parts of his chest. 

“Aye, was nothin really,” There was a blush on her cheeks which once again caused that sensation to run through him like lightning. It was also accompanied by several familiar emotions, but he was truly only able to partially understand them. He felt joy, he felt his heart leap towards her; falling for her , although the sensation was different than what he remembered. Hades moved his arm back in position so that both supported him, as he continued to watch her frown down at the blooming blue that appeared after her hand left a certain area of his chest. It did not hurt him beyond a small sting, but as she lifted her hand away she reached behind her and grabbed the rag. “Yah are still leakin aether.” She sighed and shifted so that she was looking at him. The rag poised in her hands expectantly, her hands hovering over his chest waiting. 

Hades sighed, and laid back on the back letting his arms stretch out in mock defeat. “Yes, go ahead Swath, do what you need to do.” With that she quickly set about unwrapping his chest, it was a little awkward at the angle he was at but every time he attempted to move and help her a firm hand pressed him back into the bed. He was growing increasingly amused by her actions, as he watched her he could feel the stinging with each strip of bandage removed. So in an attempt to distract himself from the incoming pain Hades focused on the face of the Warrior of Light; her brow furrowed in concentration she seemed oblivious to the world around her. He knew that was a farce though. Any slight movement done by his form would immediately be silenced by a firm hand. Swaths hair was tied back at the moment as she worked over him, it had been so when she came into the room as well. Her one golden eye darted around as she finished unwrapping the bandages. 

Hades shifted a little and Swath allowed him to do so, before placing a hand on his shoulder once more looking at him seriously. “This is gunna hurt.” 

He opened his mouth to protest but she did not wait, grabbing the damp cloth she opened it and laid it down over the faintly glowing wound on his chest. Hades frowned, she lied, it had not hurt. It stung a little that was for sure - his thoughts were cut short as he watched her hand, seemingly mimic the soft aura of his chest, press down on the towel. 

Then pain burned through him like a wildfire. It started from her hand which splayed stiffly against his stomach and then simultaneously went to his toes and his head. Everything hurt, it reminded him of her trying to pull his soul back from the afterlife. Hades felt his hands tense up in the sheets and through the pain realized that Swath was holding onto one of his hands - the one closest to her. As quickly as the fire started it was staunched as her hand was lifted away from his body. Gasping Hades fell limp upon the bed, gulping the cool air like a lifeline. 

“Pray tell hero, was that necessary?” He leered at her his voice exceptionally weak, but her response to him was just a shrug. Which caused him to continue glaring at her weary eye. 

“Aye, twas. I’h need tah infuse yah with aether till yah stabilize.” Her face told him she wished to say more, to say that if she did not he would die. Rolling his eyes he looked toward the ceiling and heaved a long sigh which caused his body to radiate dull pain. A murmur then came from her lips. “Though yah seem pretty stable right now.”

“Do as you wish Swath,” Hades murmured. The pit in his stomach was back and he knew he could no longer fight her, nor did he wish too. His life was hers, only hers. “I do believe at this moment in time you know more about the situation than I, as much as I loathe to admit.” Letting his body relax he closed his eyes, sleep would not come easy. The pain was still present, a soft throbbing in the core of his stomach. There was also the fact that she was in the room with him, and while her presence did relax him it also cause that storm of emotions to stir in his breast. Opening his eyes he shifted his head to look at her, Swath had moved to sit by his head on the floor. She had covered her blind eye once again with an eye-patch, but what truly made Hades wish to recoil was the fact she was so close to him. Though his body refused to move, and instead he just blinked a few times in her direction. She smiled and reached up brushing away his dark brown hair that slipped to obscure his face. 

“I’h do, sadly. I’h wish I didn't. Awfully similar tah some wounds I’ve had in the past.” Swath shrugged and Hades opened his mouth to protest and respond with a question, but instead found her continuing. “But yah are a captive audience. I’h figure since yah are up we should have that talk.” 

Hades snapped his jaw shut, ah yes the talk about his past and the future. The future he hoped to have by her side. “Yes, I consented to being interrogated about this,” Hades murmured, Swath turning to gaze at him again her face solemn. Raising a weary hand he waved it briefly before letting it fall limply back at his side. “Ask away hero, I will answer truthfully, as I always have.”

She beamed, it was a melancholy filled smile. “I know,” Swath turned to gaze at the other side of the room chewing on her lip briefly. “Hades, yah where Solus correct?”

He frowned, what sort of question was this? He plainly said when they first met that he had been Solus zos Galvus and countless others, but sighing he humored her. “Yes, I was Solus.”

“Do yah remember a small village in the Garlean mountains?” As the words slipped from her mouth he felt his heart clench as she tilted her head away from him. “Small village that worshiped a Primal like entity. Quiet, peaceful, only did trade with otha towns once ah blue moon.” Hades watched as her body became rigid and her ears flattened. Her hand, which had been resting on the bed side fell away and fell limply in her lap. “Tha town was mah home. I’h was raised there. It was destroyed, by Emporer Solus’ word.” 

Hades turned away, “By Zodiark,” He murmured shifting lifting his heavy hand to his face. This was regret, this was sorrow, this was fear; these emotions in his breast that threatened to suffocate him. He remembered that order, he remembered hearing about that small village of possible primal worshipers in his lands. Hades remembered being something similar to gleeful, he would sow more destruction, he had thought, and hasten the rejoining. He had sent some of his best men to that village to destroy it. Hades had not known that inadvertently he would created the Warrior of Light, that he had created the woman that sat next to him. Part of him was happy he did such, because he had been saved by her hand, but it was easily eclipsed by the regret. He had taken everything from her. 

“I’h was also nearly killed by those men yah sent.” Hades flinched as she spoke up again. “I’h, I’h dont ask for an apology Hades. I’h just wanted tah know if yah did send them.” Her voice was soft, broken. It was not all she wanted to talk about, this much was clear, but it was the most prominent thing on her mind. 

He took in a deep breath. “Yes, I did send those men. I intended to wipe out the entire village, for the local villages to begin to think I was losing my mind and hasten the fear in those lands.” Hades laughed bitterly. “The quicker the rejoining the better after all.”

“I’h see,” Swaths voice petered out to nothing and silence fell over the two of them. It persisted for a long time, until Hades lifted his hand from his face and saw a blur of white and grayish blue suddenly eclipse what little light was in the room. “Hades,” Swath was over him her hands on either side of his face, hers awfully close to his. “Yah life is mine,” Her one uncovered eye staring with heat into his own pools of gold. “I’h choose yah, the one who took my family from me, to be mine.” 

Once again silence fell over the room, Hades lifted his heavy hand to wrap around her arm. He did not do so in such a way that he threatened to throw her off of him, no, he did not have the strength for that. What he did have the strength for was to hold her there. To hold her above him and not let go. 

“I will not die unless you say, I will not leave the Crystarium without your word, I am yours to command Swath,” Hades said evenly, watching as her eye widened clearly not expecting his proclamation. To him, it made sense, they were using each other, at least up to this point that had been the deal. The deal was different now. “My life, Swath, is yours. I will ask for nothing in return.” After all he had no right to ask such things, she was a hero and he washed up villain. Hades did not know if he would ever have the power he once did because of Swath acting like a cap upon him, but in truth he did not care. His life was hers, it had been the moment he opened his eyes returning from death by her hands. Swath had given him a second chance at life, a second chance to live. He had to live with everything wrong he had done yes, and he had done terrible wrongs to the one person he was coming to care deeply for. He could not atone for that. Hades squeezed her arm with what power he had in his muscles and willed his message to get across. He was a Ascian, but from this point on he was her Ascian. Not Zodiarks, not Elidibus’, hers. 

“Give me, give me some of yah aether to seal the deal.” Swaths voice shook as she asked this, the command caused him to raise his eyebrows. 

“Excuse me hero, you wish for what?” Hades shifted as she got off of him sitting at the side of the bed, hanging only one leg off of it still crowding him as he struggled to sit up. His body was heavy and did not obey his commands properly, but after he got halfway up and was about to slip backwards her hands where there holding him up. Again, she was close to close. They had been this close only hours before, but her request was something increasingly intimate. 

“Aether, mine is already in yah,” She lifted a hand away and gently jabbed his chest, a section that was not wounded. “Its only fair yah know.” 

“I do not think you understand what you ask.” Hades muttered leaning his head away from her, while trying to keep his thundering heart in check. This was panic right? This feeling that caused him to wish for the energy to flee from the room. Of course he had no such energy and was sufficiently trapped by Swaths form. She let her hand graze his chest back to his shoulder.

“I’h do, yeah it could hurt meh but I’h need tah know yah are serious. Its like ah bindin spell.” Swath frowned at him, her expression still intense. Hades took in in a steadying breath, she wanted this. 

It was different from using her as a conduit for his magics; his aether just passed through her harmlessly, but to mix them.  He frowned, looking inward, feeling his own aether. Hades earlier had recognized that his soul was fundamentally the same yet something was different, was it his aether? After a moment he saw it, around his darkly colored soul was surrounded by a slight golden glow. Her aether, a bit of her soul. Hades swallowed, looking at her - she had mixed their aether. Against his wishes a blush traveled from his neck to his cheeks. Causing the Viera to lean back surprised. Hades could tell she was about to ask but he shook his head, if this is what she wanted he would do it. “Yes, yes alright hero if this is the assurance you wish for I will give you some of my aether.”  He watched as she relaxed, although her expression was still one of confusion. “Do not regret this.” Hades muttered, advice for the both of them as he shifted to press his hand against her chest.  Then with a slight frown took in a deep breath and leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers. 

His third eye pressed uncomfortably against her skin but he ignored it, he focused on her form her hands that held him and his hand on her chest. Releasing his deep breath he reached for the familiar route he took when he used her as a conduit, but instead of allowing his aether to pass by her he pushed it outward around her, into her. She gasped and he ignored it, pushing further, feeling no resistance. Then there was a snap and he pulled his head back, taking in a steadying breath. 

By Zodiark he was now painfully aware of her, moving his body away to the best of his ability he felt her hands release him. Hades did not look at her face as he pressed his back against the headboard of the bed, but once he was settled he looked back up and saw that she was crying. He recoiled looking at her with disgusted shock, why was she crying? Why would she cry after asking something so intimate of him? He was about to open his mouth to rebuke her, and remind her that he had said that she should not regret asking such a thing. Instead his words died on his lips as she raised her hand to her cheek, seemingly equally surprised as he. 

“Was tha their wish too?”

“Whose wish hero?” Hades asked as he leaned forward, the panic returning. “Whose wish?” The Ascians mind raced, he had not shown her anything through that bond had he? Then it dawned on him, the dreaded ‘Crystal mothers’ blessing, the echo. “What did you see Swath,” He reached out to her, her wide eyes causing his breaths to come quick. “Swath who did you see.” 

[theaetherhealerffxiv]

Remember me, Remember me, together we will finish what has been started.

[theaetherhealerffxiv]

[theaetherhealerffxiv]

Redemption Pt 2

Part One

Ao3 link

Rating: PG17 for safety

Parings: Wol x Emet-Selch

Summary:

Its over, the winner gets to write the next chapter of the story. So why, pray tell, wont the Warrior of Light let him die?

Chapter Summary:

Hades managed to open a portal that allowed the Scions and the Wol to escape the battle Area, but now they must leave Amaurot, Hades is struggling with the fact that he seems cut off from his magic - and dreading the consequences.

Word count: 6993

As they entered the portal Hades felt an ache deep within his chest. It was his current aether, pure and bound, intermingling with his old aether. The collusion caused air to be torn from his lungs his golden eyes widening with the surprise of the event. Never in his existence since the sundering, has a portal he created rejected him so. His body sagged under the weight of the unexpected burden, but the firm hands that gripped his sides guided him through the portal with unanticipated ease.  As they came into the golden hallways of the capitol building he felt air rush back through his lips. Feeling relief he slouched forward coughing again, flecks of aether hitting the floor. As he caught his breath Hades felt the small hands of Ryne patting his back, and Swath’s released him to slump to the floor with a heavy sigh of exhaustion. Hades, still bent turned his gaze to the clearly worn Viera, she had clearly crumpled to the ground without grace nor care about her position; she just did not want to be standing.

Hades frowned, lifting his hand to wipe his lips, shifting looking at the binds that connected the two of them. Binds that only he could see clearly. They were still blinding, but her soul was dimmer as if her continued pushing her limits was affecting the very core of her soul. He suspected that this actually happened to her often, but never in the company of her companions. Swath was clearly trying to play it off by rolling her shoulders and stretching. Unnecessary movements to distract herself and Thancred from her true fatigue. 

“Tired?” Thancred asked her, Hades, still in pain gently patted Rynes hand and shifted to sit down as well, next to the Viera. She nodded, leaning back on her hands her axe, which was tied to her back clanked unceremoniously on the floor. Settling down beside her Hades kept his attention solely on the Hero, could he inquire about her exhaustion without letting her know that he had more answers than he cared to give? For the moment, despite his promise to Hythlodaeus, he wished to keep some playing cards to himself. In case it was needed, against what he was not sure. Perhaps against Elidibus, the only true Ascian remaining tied to Zodiark. While his face was still Hades internally frowned. There was still a lot of enmity and danger directed towards Swath, and he knew that he was ill equipped to protect her. His past self, the one that originally walked the halls they sat in could easily have transformed into his altered mage form to protect her with ease. 

The him right now was as useless as a newborn mortal child. 

Looking away from Swath he heard her chatting with Thancred, he did not care about what. Instead he found his gaze shifting towards the makeshift portal that he had torn open. It viciously shook as his golden sight fell upon it, and then vanished. Hades frowned at the spectacle that had been lost to his unwitting companions. As the last of the tainted aether shimmered out of existence a prick of pain radiated from his wound. His hands reached up to touch the wound on his chest, glowing, and bleeding again. Grazing his gloved hand over it he brought it to his face to gaze at it. The glow of the aether was as dim as her soul, its color was still brilliantly blue, but was off to him. Clenching his hand he bit his lip, unsure of what it meant. His mind was too tired to properly problem solve. It could be because Swath was honestly spent from their battle and the act of pulling his soul back from the Underworld. It could have completely different indications. Perhaps ramifications of freeing him from Zodiark? Disdain from the Primal that exerted a certain amount of will over her. Hades gnawed his lip at the thought, pushing it from his mind quickly. He would settle for her being tired, without overthinking the problem for the moment. 

 Out of the corner of his eye he saw Thancred pat the woman, “Rest then, I will go talk to the others about finding a way back to the surface.” Ryne  hopped up, Hades had almost forgotten about her, and Thancred waved at her indicating her to remain sitting. “Stay with Swath and,” The white haired man paused staring at Hades who raised his eyebrows at him curiously. Thancreds eyes looked back at Swath, Hades’ eyes followed his gaze. The woman looked at Thancred with expectation. Concerned but curious Hades looked back at Thancred disgruntled face. He groaned before speaking, “Hades.” Thancred spat his true name like a curse and turned on his heel to march over to the others without a second word. To the twins who were speaking in animated gestures towards each other and the other Scions. Hades peeked at Swath out of the corner of his eyes to see her smiling with satisfaction. He huffed and shifted his position, so their conversation had been her convincing Thancred to use his name, not his title. The Hero clearly could not cleanse the disdain that the man appropriately had for him, but her words had reached him somewhat. 

Hades felt a measure of pride for her actions. She was so very strong willed; and he couldn't help but wonder if instead of he standing beside her, it would be she standing beside him in his darkest moments. Although, the thought flitted across his mind, was that not what she was already doing?

Ryne plopped down in front of Swath and Hades, smiling, taking the man from his thoughts. “That was amazing Mr. Hades!” Pulling her knees to her chest she tilted her head at him and he gave a pained smile in response to her praise. He had done nothing to be appreciated. All he had done was remove them the graveyard he created for them to the one he had fashioned for himself.  “Although, did he really use you as a conduit Swath?” This question took him by surprise, as she looked at the Viera for answers. Swath shrugged, moving to more appropriately sit beside Hades and in front of Ryne. Hades noted that while she advanced with a normal speed, her movements were clumsy. Her hands slipping and her legs bumping the floor until she settled. 

Once again he kept his face straight, it was clear to him she did not with the others to know. Thus he would not indicate that he could see her struggling.

“I’h felt somethin, but I dunno, he pulled away from me remember?” Her eyes turned to watch him carefully, inspecting him. He looked away from her, to Ryne who also regarded him curiously, and then to look at the ruined cloak that still adorned his frame. How it had begun to fray and rip more. With a disgruntled sigh Hades leaned forward to rub his head in frustration at the question when he realized he still wore his rather sharp, taloned glove.  With a quick shake of his head yanked it off throwing it to the side. The clank as it hit the gilded floor caused the other Scions to look up from their conversation. But Hades just waved his hand at them, disregarding their reactions further.

“I did,” He finally said, now able to rub his forehead uninhibited by the sharp metal of the glove. “It was an unexpectedly easy task,” Hades muttered moving to scrub his lips cleaning them of the aether that he had coughed up earlier. “It allowed me a glimpse into what I believe is binding me to this bro-” He clicked his tongue and stopped speaking, cursing old habits and lingering negative emotions. Before taking a breath and continuing, “binding me to the living.” Hades clearly was avoiding speaking about the shards as a whole. He was not ready to accept certain failures quite yet. Hades knew that he would need to, to move forward in this new life, but for the moment he was content allowing it to fester. The chains may be gone, but emotions clearly lingered. 

“What is it?” Ryne leaned forward, Hades watched as her eyes darted from his face to look at his wound, which his fingers where grazing as if searching for the hole that should be there. Every time he touched it it stung, but he knew it was no ordinary wound. It would not cause rot or infection. It was of pure aether, her aether, trying to reconstruct his form. He observe Ryne’s movements, clearly suspicious about the glowing wound on his chest. Hades shrugged and let his hand drop to his lap before raising it and waving it at the Viera which sat close to them. 

“Clearly, the conduit that is solidifying my presence here is Swath herself.” The man looked at her, her ears where back and a faint blush decorated her bruised cheeks. Hades’s eyebrows  shot up with surprise at her reaction, as he felt a blush creep up his neck. It was as if she did not expect him to call her out so quickly. The blush also caught him off guard; he had also not expected his words to elicit such an emotion from her. He watched as the thread that connected them flared, her soul burning ever slightly brighter. Clearing his throat he looked away, trying to keep the fact that he had such a profound effect on her very soul to himself. “She bound me with her aether, and thus I assume she also had a hand in breaking the bonds of Zodiark.” Hades continued with a steady voice even though he himself felt a little flushed. The bright blue glow of her soul a tempting distraction. 

Disgruntled he brought his ungloved hand to his chin and scrubbed at it - at the stubble he found. It was rough on his hand and reminded him that, usually, when he possessed a body later in their life and molded it to the form of his liking he did not have to deal with the many bodily functions that came with existing. The appearance of the stubble could be because he was effectively cut off from his magics. Pulling his hand away from his face it occurred to him that he did not have access to his regular magics. The ones that allowed him to take the form of a mage - but perhaps he could still create. Watching his hand he stared at his fingertips focusing, willing an image from his mind to his hand. A vision of a gentle butterfly, golden wings like Swaths good eye, and a white body such as her hair. He felt the warmth of the magic spread across his body, but at the same time he cursed himself for letting the Viera so easily affect his creation. After a moment the butterfly began to take shape on his hand, spreading its wings readying for flight.

There was a small gasp from Ryne, who sat in front of him. He could see her leaning forward her eyes wide with a child's wonder, then there was a small intake of air behind him. A hand, clothed in rough armor heavily hit his shoulder, the sudden touch from Swath caused Hades’ concentration to disperse and the man watched in horror as the butterfly on his hand dissipated. Creation magic was not supposed to break so easily. “Damn it.” He grumbled, dropping his hand and slamming it harshly against the ground. The frustration that bubbled deep within his chest was hard for him to control. He hated being separated from his magics, it was unnatural, and it caused him great distress. 

“Was tha creation magic?” Swath asked from beside him, her voice bringing him back and serving as a grounding agent for Hades. Turning to look at her he sighed, his shoulders shrugging as he did so.

“It was supposed to be.” He muttered, still displeased with himself.  In the miserable state he was in he was beyond useless, again, equivalent to a newborn mortal child. “It is not supposed to vanish so once I lose my focus.” Hades shifted on the hard floor, groaning and clutching his chest. The sudden movement causing the wound to throb, strange crusty bits flaking off as he regarded it. Was it trying to heal? Lifting his hand he once again was going to touch the wound. Hades was then distracted by hand that was still on his shoulder moving to grazed down his back to his hip, Swath suddenly pulled him close to her. He grunted in discomfort and quickly turned to gaze at her. Hades was about to protest when he saw her eyes where on his wound. The intensity of her stare silenced him, and he could only watch as her other hand moved to grasp his arm pulling it away from his chest. “Hero,” Hades his voice was flavored with warning as she lifted her hand without a care to press it firmly against his chest. Pain erupted from her touch and he buckled forward as much as her hands allowed. Cursing, “By your twelve woman!” Air hissed from his lungs as she shifted her hand and pulled back suddenly clearly satisfied. A small huff coming from her larger frame as Hades writhed trying to become accustomed to the pain once again.

“Its solid,” She said with a blinding smile. 

“I would sure hope it was!” He spat at her. Shifting Hades turned to look at her face his anger dissipating instantly once graced with the happy expression that decorated her face. Clicking his tongue, trying to keep a burst of embarrassment under control he looked towards the scions which still chatted away, oblivious to the trios interactions. Raising a hand he coughed into it, dull throbbing accompanied the movement. He knew it was a ramification of her sudden action towards him. Once again he removed the aether that leaked from his lips, growing irritated with having to continually repeat the action. Turning to her once he had gathered himself he asked, “Why, pray tell, did you do that?”

“I’h wanted to make sure that mah aether wouldn't just, vanish.” Swath muttered beside him. He watched as her sd she looked down at her hands, the one she had touched him with covered in the blue substance. Her face was sullen, concerned, troubled. As Hades regarded her a thought dancing across his mind, bringing a realization to him.

“Good, I knew she would not allow someone to die so similarly to I.” 

Swath had done the action out of panic, perhaps as she had watched the butterfly vanish her fears of he too dissipating in motes of light overtook her judgement. Hades turned away and gazed at his hand, how troubled was this Hero? How much of her suffered because of the actions of others? He was truly the most selfish thing she had ever done in her life. Hades closed his hand and let it settle into his lap before turning his gaze upward. 

“Ah,” He spoke softly, as if was regarding a crying child. “You wanted to make sure I would not die on you, is that correct?” The pause between them was heavy, even causing Ryne to turn away in an attempt to give them some form of privacy. 

“Yeah.” She mumbled behind him, the rustling of fabric and chain mail accompanying her response. Swath seized his free hand into an intense grasp. Hades tilted his head to gaze at their hands, moving so that he could interlock his fingers with hers. It was a simple gesture, he understood this, and one he would usually not think of to do. He may in past lives, been a romantic, finding pleasure in wooing women and men alike but here he floundered as if he was falling in love for the first time all over again. In his mind that made sense, beside him was an eight times rejoined version of his beloved. Swath acted so much like her whole self it threw the golden eyed man for a loop. He felt young, he felt angry, he felt confused; he felt free. Shutting his eyes for a moment he gathered himself before he looked at her briefly giving her an unsure smile before speaking. 

“I, truthfully, Hero, do not think I am able to leave this plain of existence without your say.” His golden eyes returned to stare at their hands instead of her face. Hades took note that her skin was common for a Rava Viera, a bluish tint, one that remind him of a fresh evening sky. Making the small scars flecked her skin the stars. Hades squeezed her hand trying to reassure her, he did not know if the feelings went properly through before turning to look at the group of Scions, whose conversation was increasing volume. “Hm, I do not believe they know the best way out of here.” Hades’ tone was nonchalant, he honestly figured that they would just retrace the steps that the group had originally took to come down to the phantom Amaurot. Of course, he had originally also assumed that this place was to be a graveyard for them. 

“Without swimming.” Ryne said with a strained laugh. Hades raised his eyebrows as he found the girl shifting to look at him with hopeful expectation. Did she truly hope that he had another trick up his sleeve? Alas, he did not, his energy had been spent on bypassing the recreation he had so carefully crafted. Shaking his head he gave her a weary smile. 

“I am sorry child, I do not have it in me to summon another portal as I did. If I do I fear that I will be reduced to expelling aether from my body once more.” Hades felt his brows turn down into a sorrowful expression with his response. Ryne sighed mournfully and Swaths hand tightened around his own. Hades realized that his words may have once again struck a chord within the Hero.  He gathered himself, prepared to attempt  to comfort her.  He finally turned to look at her face expecting her eyes to be gazing at him with fear; instead he found that she was not looking to him but toward the open entrance. A frown danced across Hades’ face as he tried to decipher her expression before giving up and turning to look for himself. There in the doorway was a phantom.

It lingered as if it had a will of its own, which was impossible. Hades could not have given any of their souls back, if he could have at the time of the creation of this place he would have. But it loitered none the less, its expressionless face staring at him. He shifted, it seemed familiar. Had he have given this phantom a name? Perhaps it was the pain, but he was beginning to have trouble remembering the events that had led up to the final fight.

 It moved awkwardly, taking a step forward, like a puppet with broken strings. Hades stomach dropped, it should not be able to come into the Capitol building. Behind him he could feel Swath tense up, moving to grab hold of Ryne and pull the small oracle behind them. Even though he could not completely see her actions he felt her through their entwined hands try to pull him behind her as well. Instead he, huffed releasing his grasp and struggled to stand. He would not be babied, he may be exhausted and wounded but he would not fear the own phantoms he had created. As he stood he heard her, muttering, her voice growing louder. 

“Hades -” Swaths concerned tone echoed through the building, the Scions had stopped conversing the minute they heard her speak. He ignored her fear, this was his creation, if he had miscalculated something he must attempt to remedy it. Even in his present condition he was apprehensive that the whole of the phantom Amaurot would vanish beneath their feet. The butterfly was vividly clear in his mind, especially the way it had vaporized. Hades knew that his powers were weakened, as he had mentioned earlier he could not properly calculate the effects the events had upon his form, and his magic. He stood finally, unsteady, one hand on his wound he began to walk towards the approaching phantom. “Hades!” Swath called out again, but he just waved her off.

It was okay, he tried to convey the emotion through is hand. Once again he did not know if the feelings properly went through but she was not jumping up to stop his advancement towards the phantom. As Hades walked he found his body barely heeded his orders. It was sluggish, sore, and unfamiliar to him. The walk was painful without someone supporting him, he could feel all the eyes of his new companions on him as he strode across the golden floors. Soon enough he stood in front of the phantom, which kneeled down and reached out to him. Its hands stopping inches away from his face. Hades felt no fear to the situation he was now in. The ghosts of the past where harmless to him, as he stood before it he found its hand hesitantly touching him. Its masked face blank, it had no facial features after all. 

“Honored Emet-Selch,” The phantom spoke finally. The words wholly familiar to him, but the movements of the phantom where foreign. He had imbued them memories of the final day before the world crashed down around them. They should not have any reason to enter the Capitol building. “Honored Emet-Selch,” The phantom repeated, clearly expecting him to answer. Hades rolled his eyes, shifting on his feet before taking a deep breath.

He cleared his throat, trying to rid it of the aether like fluid that still clung to it. “Yes?” He asked, in all honestly loathing hearing the title come from the phantom. Hades was starting to grow accustomed to hearing his true name again, and being called by it. In fact he was beginning to prefer it over the title which he had worn for eons. Nevertheless, he waited for the phantom to answer his query. 

“Honored Emet-Selch,” The phantom said again, causing Hades to frown. It should have responded to him with a question, or something similar.  Was his creation truly beginning to fade? His eyes widened, panic rose like bile in his chest. He took a step back from the phantom, frantically looking around. What he noticed asserted his fears; the gold was faded, cracking like worn paint. He turned towards the doors that lead to the final days reflection that he had created, the doors where starting to fall apart as well. In fact he could hear it; the sound of snapping and shifting. Hades could not be sure if it was just the building they stood in, perhaps it had been negatively affected by his forceful portal creation. Or maybe it was his weakened form that had given way to something disastrous, the change of his aether, the removal of his tainted aether to the ghost of a city. 

“By Zodiark,” He hissed, he knew he did not have the strength to keep the creation stable. Creation magic was suppose to be the most powerful and concrete of the magics, once something had been willed into existence it should stand until destroyed by outside forces. It should not be affected by the events that happened to its creator. But it was the only reason that Hades could think of. As he turned and took stock of the room he heard the phantom repeating its previous phrase. Hades rolled his eyes and turned his body to hobble back towards Swath and Ryne who where now standing. He saw Swath holding her axe, studying the phantom until she noticed Hades’ turn towards them. Hades watched as her eyes grew wide, a clear reaction to the panicked expression that was gracing his face. 

“There was no one else that fit the position.” The phantom spoke. 

Hades paused his crippled advancement back to his Hero for a moment and turned slightly. The phantom was of Hythlodaeus, but he thought that when creating him he gave him some understanding of the situation. Hades had only realized far after creating him of course, that he had some self awareness. His golden eyes carefully studied the phantom, its hand was still outstretched, its blank face following his movements. By the very magic that put him in this situation he struggled to remember; had Hythlodaeus visited the Capitol building the day before everything came crashing down on them? His face paled as the memory came gently back to him. 

Hythlodaeus had come to speak to Hades about his plans to propose to Swath’s whole form. It had originally been planned for the day of the catastrophe. His friend had the utmost trust in Hades, in finding a solution before time was up. Hades never had the chance to ask her - and Hytlodaeus had not survived the calamity. Turning away from the phantom and the memory Hades cursed again. Willing his uncooperative body to move faster, the hallway was long and arduous but when he finally stood in front of Swath he reached out with his free hand and grabbed her arm. The Viera was still gazed at the phantom, as if it would break into a sprint after Hades. She still had her axe in her hand as he pulled her with as much force as his weak body could muster. 

“We must away Hero,” Hades said with as much urgency as he could muster, pulling on her arm again. She sheathed her weapon without as much as a question, which caused relief to flood Hades. She, despite the circumstances, trusted his judgement. He watched as she turned on her heel easily lifting small Ryne into her arms. The golden eyed man could only assume that it was adrenaline that allowed Swath to bypass her extreme exhaustion. Moving back to look at him she shifted Ryne so that she held the oracle with one arm and with her free one moved the grasp Hades had on her arm, so that their hands held one another. Then, she moved quicker than he found he could keep up with. Clearly even though he groaned in protest he did not have a choice as she was undeterred by his continued tripping, only moving to release his hand and wrap her arm around his side to keep him steady. Together they came to the Scions who frowned, they had been too far away to hear Hades’ conversation with the phantom, nor his urgent words to Swath. He heaved, gulping air as the three of them came to stop in front of the Scions. Swath set Ryne down who trotted to Thancreds side, tugging on his sleeve to get his attention. 

“Pray tell, Emet-Selch what is happening?” The male of the Elezen twins asked his arms crossed. The other Scions where regarding him in much of the same manner, only paying attention to Swath who stood at attention her arm wrapped around his side to keep him steady. They expected her to speak as he was trying to control his breathing.

When she did not, their attention finally rested on him. Rolling his eyes he moved so that one hand wrapped around Swaths waist so that he could continue to stand unhindered by his shaking legs, then he freed the hand that had been clasped to his chest. His hand was drenched in the blue ichor that still oozed from the wound. Hades waved it at the walls, still panting he tried to find the air to speak. A gentle pat on his side told him to take his time that either he would tell them, or they would see it. 

Either way, the pat told him, she would keep him safe. 

A brief frown crossed his face, he still did not want to be babied; but at the moment his protest seemed to be something that he should not concern himself with. Mentioning to the walls again he took a deep steadying breath. “My creation boy,” He began with a frown now deepening across his brow. “It is failing, the fabric of magic I weaved to create this place is being torn asunder by something I cannot, nor have the strength to mend.” As he spoke the words he felt a pang of painful sorrow. In a cruel twist of fate he was losing his home again. Of course it was a shell of what the true Amaurot had been, but the pain was there regardless. He shook his head when the Elezen boy turned to examine the walls. “You do not have time to regard the symptoms of what ails the magics. If we are not light on our feet the whole of the building is likely to collapse on top of us.” He let his hand fall with a heavy breath. “While created by my will, this place is physical for the moment. It will bury us.”  Hades voice was even; he did not fear death. He had been there perhaps only an hour before. He also knew that Swath did not fear death either; the way she had stared straight into his eyes during their battle had told him so. The younger of the Scions though, where a different question. While glaring at him the tender Elezen mentioned to the others that they had to leave. There was some praddle that the man ignored, leaning heavily into Swath his ears picking up instead a different voice. 

“I am glad it is you.” The soft voice of Hythlodaeus’ phantom reached his ears causing him to twist in the Hero’s grasp, pain bursting through his torso at the sudden violent movement. The ghost of his friend was standing, and fading. It like the rest of his creation was dissipating like the butterfly. Hades could have sworn before it disappeared completely that he saw a smile where there should not be one. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he stared at the now vacant spot by the entrance. 

Had the fragmented spirit of his old friend crossed the barrier to warn him? Looking down and away from the spot he noticed cracks now beginning to form in the floor. Then as the Scions finished their preparations to move the soft rumble of the building began to crescendo. Announcing that it was going to collapse. Wincing, Hades turned to look at Swath, she had been speaking, not to him of course but to the others. The Viera clearly wanted them to go ahead, which he could tell they accepted reluctantly. Perhaps they had theorized that if Hades was in the building the magics would remain just enough to allow them to escape. He chuckled to himself, reaching up and pressing a hand back on the wound. It was a fools dream, he had no more control over the magics that ruled over the phantom city. The laws could not be bent by his feeble power. 

“Hades,” Her voice brought him back to the present. The din of the building crumbling around them did not drown her out for him. Turning he looked at the Hero with curious eyes.

“Yes Hero?” He asked, trying to read her face but finding it a near impossible task. Her eyes were darting around, searching for enemies where there were none. Her hands had seized his shoulders, pulling him close to her chest, with a grunt he found himself buried in her form. Was she hugging him? 

“I’h ask that yah bear with what I’m bout ta do.” She muttered pulling him away and then bending down. Hades had no ability to protest, as he felt her arms on the back of his knees and shoulders. In one fell swoop she knocked him from his standing position and stood with him in a bridal carry. Golden eyes wide the man found himself being carried by the woman as she sprinted out of the Capitol building. Through heavy breaths she grinned. “I’h found tha strength tah carry yah after all.” He could not see her face well, but he could hear the smile. She shifted so that he was closer to her chest and Hades moved his arms in front of him so that she could grip him tighter. 

They exited the building and what Hades saw crushed his already broken heart. The phantoms meandered about without any more direction, somewhere already fading away. Buildings had begun to grey and crack, some falling into the abyss below them. Swath stopped at the steps, frantically looking about, her head movements ripping Hades from is melancholy to look at her. Why was she panicking so? The thought only crossed his mind for a moment before he saw the reason; the road they needed to take was already collapsed. By some miracle it looked like her companions had already crossed that area. Hades winced as her hands tightened around him further.

“I’h refuse ta let it end here.” She hissed as she began to take the steps two at a time. Hades opened his mouth to speak but she took a sharp right and began to run down an alley. This was also when the two of them began to feel rain. Swath paused as it began to pour, looking up and cursing. “By tha twelve, tha fairies magic is also failing.” She looked back down at Hades, who had been content to remain quietly in her arms as she tried to figure out a way for them to survive. He knew that in his position it was the best to do, until now that is. 

“Put me down Swath,” Hades said firmly, but she shook her head.

“Nay, yah will do somethin stupid.” The Viera’s ears flattened on her head, her stare heated. Feeling frustrated, Hades lifted his blue encrusted hand and smacked her chest with little force.

“Yes, I will but it will save you -” 

“It has ta save yah too!” She interrupted clinging to his body. “I’h wont let yah die Hades. Not here, nah ever, as long as I’h stand so will you.” Hades golden eyes widened as he, through the downpour saw that she was crying. He knew, and understood that she wanted him to live, but he could not fathom why. After everything he did, surely she would discard him easily? It was the most logical conclusion after all. 

He groaned and pushed at her shoulder again. “Why must you act so childish? Can you not see that these broken, nay, these people have deemed you worthy to grant them salvation? You, Swath, must live. I have lived my life as your enemy, I am not one of these people you must save. You must release me!” Hades let the words fall already knowing that if she did as he asked he would be breaking the promise he had made to Hythlodaeus. That once his feet touched the ground he would use every ounce of strength and magic that was left in his shattered form to throw her into a portal back to the Crystal Tower.  It mattered not, if he could save her, he would happily face the wrath of his old friend. She did not release him though, even as the water began to cascade down upon them with greater force. Instead she shifted, pressing her forehead once again to his.

“Use me.” She whispered. “Use me as a conduit for yah magic.” Hades’ golden eyes widened and the hand that was on her shoulder balled up into a fist.

“So, this is your choice.” He breathed. “Very well, I will use you then hero. I will use you to live until you grow tired of me.” Hades felt anger, he would happily sacrifice himself for her, but if she wanted him to live he would do that too, although spitefully.  Splaying his hand out he easily connected to her through the threads that bound them together.

“Do it,” Swath muttered. “This is mah choice. Others use meh to live, and yah think you will be using meh? Nay, I’h will be using you.” Her head shifted as she pressed her lips against his cheek causing him to tense up. “I’h will use yah as a reason for meh to live. The one I saved.” 

Hades felt the tendrils of aether wrap around him tightly. The water pouring down around them as she held him close. She could not see his gaze, nor could he see her expression, but his eyes stared at her with increasing softness. His chest burned both physically and emotionally, the anger he had felt moments before quickly dissipating with the realization that once again he was falling in love with her. It was a descent he could not stop, nor did he want to. Moving his free hand he cradled her head against his face as he weaved their magic together. He need not use his, her soul was burning so brightly it blinded him. All he had to do was focus on her, on every bit of her. As her emotions of helplessness and sorrow spilled over him he leaned into her drenched hair. It was almost too much for him; he had not realized that what she said had such truth to it. Hades had watched her through her journey and assumed that while there was a lot of take surely her comrades gave back to her as well. The fact that they clearly did not changed his view point. The words of Hythlodaes floated through his mind;

“She is clinging to you,”

“... she has truly grown fond of you,”

“And yet, that is still there for you. Her will to hold your soul, even though hers is broken.”

She rarely had a chance to voice her own desires, to act upon her own dreams. Swath was not just a being chosen to represent the horrible Hydaelyn’s will, she was also the avatar which people put all of their hopes and dreams into. They may thank her, but they still asked far too much of the woman. And yet, she still continued to stride forward in the name of saving the world. Hades closed his eyes, very well, if she needed something to truly live for. Something that she chose with her free will, he would be that for her.

 “Then use me, hero.” He inhaled sharply, pressing what little strength he had into the overwhelming spring of her own. Around them the water was pushed back and a bubble was formed. Once the water stopped Swath lifted her head away from him and he turned away to look out at the sea as it reclaimed his creation. The silence between them was surprisingly comfortable. Hades knew that he need naught focus on how to escape; she would do that for them. All he had to do was keep the bubble from bursting. Thus, he turned to mournfully gaze at the city.

Between the failings of his magic and the weight of the water the city was in ruins. The alleyway they were in was barely standing as well. Above him he heard her take in a ragged breath, perhaps in an attempt to not cry, or maybe it was relief, to the fact that he had given into her demands so easily. Looking upward he could gaze at the sunlight filtering through the layers of water, it was faint but he could see and sense the life beyond it surface.

 Once again Swath sudden movements caused Hades to snap back to reality; she bent down crouching, then jumped with such force that they shot through the water like a bullet. Hades struggled to keep the bubble around them as they reached the top of a cliff that looked out upon the ruined Amaurot. She paused there, still cradling him. He could only assume that she was giving him time to grieve and take in what little remained. Sighing he looked up at her, finding that she had twisted her face to gaze down at him with a shy smile.

“Hades,” She began, “Yah, yah cannot tell tha others what I’h said -” 

He waved his free hand around, shaking his head in disbelief. “The fact you are entertaining the very thought that I would tell them wounds me.” The Viera laughed and leaned forward to nuzzle his cheek again. Causing him to feel heat raising against his neck. “Yes, yes, now stop that and let us get moving. I cannot hold this pocket forever.” 

Another laugh, “Yah do realize tha I can breath under water right?” Swath said as she turned on her heel to begin walking towards the sea shelf.

Hades frowned, feeling foolish. Of course she had some sort of blessing that allowed her to breath underwater. He hummed thinking of something to say before being interrupted by her.

“I’h am happy, what yah said.” Her voice was low, and Hades had to shift close to hear her. “No one has ever told meh to use ‘em.” Clearly there was more to what she was saying, Hades could feel it but opted to ignore it. He had meant what he said after all, and he cared not how she perceived it. 

“Yes, well, let us escape these dark waters first and then you can be as happy as you want, he-” He sighed, correcting himself again. “Swath,”

The Viera laughed and reached down to press her forehead against his again; causing him to protest once more. 

Perhaps, he thought, this life would not be so bad after-all. 

[theaetherhealerffxiv]

Of Fates untold

Spoilers!!

FFXIV fanfic - One shot

Paring: Wol/Wod x Emet-selch

Rated: PG-17 [for safety]

Wol/Wod is NB with female leaning [you/yours/etc]

Summary: Somehow you got separated from the other Scions in the final days of Amaurot conjuring that Emet produced just for you. Standing on the balcony of some random scarred building you have a bout of Light Pain; while trying to also contain the lingering feelings of emotional pain that the sight brings to you... And then he appears.

Word count: 1166

Gasping for air you sink to the floor, the cold railing of the balcony your only grounding factor as Light swims across your vision threatening to blot out the destruction before you. No, you think angrily, you would not let it take you this easy, you would not give in. He wanted you to see this. 

“Welcome to the final days of Amaurot.” He had beckoned to you and your companions as you entered the city of his creation. Sobbing you hoisted yourself up to drape across the railing. Coughing violently as the fit took you. 

Pain, caught in an unholy dance with your body brought heat from the very core of your being to rest on your skin. Like a fever, like the worst illness you have ever experienced. Choking on the aether pooling in your throat you threw up the brilliant liquid over into the streets below, catching glimpses as the phantom citizens ran for their lives from beasts.

Everything within you that was not succumbing to the pain cried out to assist them. They may be already dead, but faint memories pulled you into action even though your body would not follow any commands. Breathing heavily you pushed back against the Light, refusing to be taken - just yet. The pain was subsiding but the leaking fluid from your mouth refused to be sated. Gasping you leaned into the railing once more using what little strength you had to keep yourself upright to witness the roaring flames before you.

“Ah, so this is where the star escaped too.” Came the cool voice of Emet-selch from behind you. A cough erupted from your chest as you spun with surprising strength, only to trip upon an unseen crack in the stone and into his chest. Clicking his tongue he held your body with surprising tenderness. Helping you stand and bringing one hand to cup your chin, his gloved thumb brushing away the liquid that still ran down your chin. “Another violent bout hero?” His voice soft asked as you forced your eyes to focus on his golden one. 

“I, I am fine.” Murmuring you tried to pull yourself away, but failed as Emet held you to his chest. With an irritated shake of his head you frowned, confused. Where had this come from? Why, after that outburst was he here, cradling you? 

“Clearly.” Emet scoffed guiding you and him to sit upon the floor, shifting you so that you could gaze out at the fire and hell that he had created. “I had expected you to conquer this with little effort.” The Acsian chastised, his voice still holding a surprisingly sweet tone.  

“A moment of weakness.” You coughed, moving slightly to lean back into his coat and let your head fall into the crook of his neck. You had reluctantly fallen in love with the Ascian, a feat you did not believe that you still had within you after the events in Ishgard. You had believed that after being broken time and time again, you could never be put together again. Perhaps, you didn't need to. 

“I see.” He muttered leaning to press his lips against your forehead, lingering coolness spreading through your body. It was as if the Light faded enough. His hands were wrapped around you in an intimate embrace, as if he wanted to kiss more than your forehead. Alas, he did not and turned to look out where you had been moments before. “Your opinion hero?”

“On what?” You asked, surprised once more with his tenderness. Lifting his hand he mentioned dramatically to the scenery before the two of you. “Oh,” You murmured, your heart twisting once again. “It is unfair.” The words tumble from your mouth, stinging with hatred and fear, emotions that you should not have in regards to the flames that burned a town that you did not know. 

And yet.

And yet you did. 

It was more than the Echo, more than the touch of Hydaelyn, it was something carnal. Something that was older than even the Mother Crystal herself. It both confused you and frightened you. The feelings within your breast where something you could not dwell on as Emet-Selch spoke.

“It is. We had to weave the laws anew.” He muttered. “Create a very god to sate the hunger of our very magic.” Looking up at the Ascian you gazed at him with wonder, the pain that reflected upon his face twisting his very visage into one of indescribable emotions. “Created, a god, a god to give the star a Will. For those who sacrificed themselves a reason for that sacrifice, to give those that still lived comfort! And for what!” Emet raged, still holding you with gentle tenderness. 

“For a war that has not ended yet.” You supplied, causing his gaze to focus on you. The Warrior of Light, Hydaelyn’s champion from the Source, his enemy, his lover, his confidant, his companion.  

“For a war,” He repeated, “That has not ended yet.” Raising a hand the older man gently brushed away strands of hair and sweat from your face. “A war with no end until one side is utterly destroyed.”

Raising a hand of your own you seized his which was lingering and pressed it against your cheek. “We, we could end this.” You whispered.

He laughed, it was broken, madness seeping in. Releasing you swiftly he vanished from your grasp to the balcony that you had been leaning over moments before. Turned away from you, you could see him reach out and touch the luminous liquid that had come from the depths of your body. 

“The hero, ever the optimist.” The Ascians voice was soft, and at first you thought you did not even hear what he said.

“Emet,” Summoning your strength you stood. Unsteady at first, but with the man before you as a beacon you took a step forward reaching out and seizing his cloak. Throwing yourself upon his back before he had a chance to fade back into the shadows. “Enough, it is enough. I will find a way to free us. I am so tired -”

“We live to bring about the will of Zodiark.” He whispered. “As you, hero, live to bring about the will of Hydaelyn.” Turning violently he seized your hands and brought you close your faces almost touching. “Our freedom is within death hero.”

Tears streamed down your face, shock and sorrow clawing like one of the bellowing beasts from below had taken up residence within your breast. Then, with a gentle kiss to your lips Emet smiled weakly.

“Now that you are recovered, let us take to the stage and finalize this play hm?” Releasing you he reached up as if to wipe away your tears, only to fade away into the darkness.

To the final stage then. You think as you scrub the tears away along with what little Light remained on your lips. Twirling on your heel you returned to searching for your companions. After all the final battle awaited. 

[theaetherhealerffxiv]

FFXIV Oneshot: OC Based Fanfiction [Wol-verse]

Rating: PG17 for safety

Pairings: Wol  x Emet-Selch/Hades Oc x Haurchefant

Notes:

OC wol, nb but referred to as She, based off theories floating around and for @talechaser-ffxiv

Summary:

Hades meets a old friend at the very end.

Word Count: 1287

“Hythlodaeus.” His name easily fell from Hades’ mouth as he came to sit next to the splayed out man. The world was blindingly bright around them, and both of them had glowing holes that decorated their bodies. The man shifted his hood falling, a eyes that Hades did not recognize stared at him, but at the same time they were familiar. The older man shifted and laid down on the white grass heavily.  The blue eyes studied him for a moment, gazing at the glowing hole then back up at his companions golden eyes.

“Hades,” Hythlodaeus said with a smile. “Made her mad again did you?” Hades rolled his eyes.

“Like she would ever raise her hand to harm me unless I instigated it.” He sighed, his shoulders heaving. Hades wanted to sleep, willed it come, but it remained elusive. He was dead finally right? This was when one could sleep. 

Beside him the elezen hummed. “And, you did just that did you not?” 

“I would rather not speak of it.” Hades muttered, shutting his eyes, overwhelming guilt cascaded down his chest. He no longer felt the dampening chains of Zodiark weighing him down, he felt freely without the cries of the dead filling his ears. As he struggled with the emotions a hand touched his wound carefully he winced, reaching up and grabbing at… nothing.

“She’s trying to pull you back.” Hythlodaeus said from beside him. Hades opened his eyes and could hear sobbing far off in the distance. “She does not want you to go. I think her words are, ‘you are not the sums of your scars’.” The elezen frowned, “Although it is very heavily accented.” 

Hades laughed. “Yes, this incarnation of her is very different.” He felt warmth blooming in his chest along with the pain of whatever she was doing to keep him from fading into death. 

“You enjoy this incarnation, it is like back in Amaurot.” The voice of the blue eyed elezen was soft, and it caused Hades to frown. Turning his head he felt his eyes go wide as he realized Hythlodaeus was crying. “Was he with her?” 

Hades blinked, shifting to settle on his elbows. Groaning with pain as he did so, struggling to stay with his companion. “He? Ah, you mean the Miqo’te boy. The one with red hair.”

“Yes.” Hythlodaeus’s voice was faded, hurting. “How was he?” 

“Not within the battle that she and I had.” Hades sighed, “But when I did grace his presence he was fine. If a little quiet.” The man looked at the elezen who sighed heavily, his body seeming to sink into the white grass. “Was he?”

“The one I loved back in Amaurot? Yes, Hades, that was him. A fragment but him.” Blue eyes stared up at the white nothingness. Hythlodaeus’s hand reached up towards the blank sky, his fingers spread wide as if he was reaching out towards the one he missed most. “I, was a fragment as well. Only realizing it once I passed.” 

Hades frowned, waving at the glowing hole within his chest. “I have time, tell me my old friend.”

Hearty laughter came the elezen. “As much as she permits you, her constant pulling at your soul.” Hythlodaeus sighed, clearly content to tell his story. “Well, as you can see I have grown fond of this form.” Reaching up he touched the white hair. “I went by the name Haurchefant, and they came to me in need of shelter.”

“Of course you gave it to them.” Hades waved his hands a little, even though he was still propped up on his elbows.

“Of course. Why would I not? They were so very familiar, they were so comfortable to be around. Oh, Hades they did such wonderful things for the home I was born into.” Hythlodaeus smiled his eyes closing as the fond memories washed over him. “She was so very brave, and he assisted her. Like a family, so close together just as they had been back in the day.”

 Hades watched his friend with a somber expression. He was hearing her more clearly, her sobbing, calling his name ‘Hades, Hades!’ He could also hear her companions telling her to let him go. Her hands on his chest, pumping her aether into him. The pain spreading through his body. He sighed, trying not to focus on her at the moment and only his long time friend. Who, he realized, was staring at him with a smile. 

“You want to go to her.” Hythlodaeus smiled widely, teasingly. Hades scoffed and rolled his eyes, looking away to his right, where he could faintly see her outline hovering over him. Her white ears back, her war paint streaked with tears. Her one uncovered golden eye leaking continuous tears. Hades shifted, leaning into the phantom a little, it was almost like he could feel her warmth. “Why don't you?” He heard his friend ask as the sound of rustling fabric echoed in the empty space. When Hades turned back he saw the elezen now looking at him softly.

“You have not finished your story yet.” Hades muttered as he frowned at his friend. 

Hythlodaeus huffed, shifting to sit cross legged. “You do not need to worry about me, I am already dead.” He pointed to the gaping hole in his chest. 

“How did it happen.” Golden eyes stared at the blue with frustration. The other man sighed at Hades before he poked the still blue glow that clung to his chest.

“I protected them, just as I did in Amaurot.” Hythlodaeus sighed. “You remember, the final days, the sky falling, the flows of magma…” 

“I remember the falling rocks, and you, ever the fool, sheltered them with your body. As I struggled with the will of the planet.” Hades muttered, unpleasant emotions bubbling up within his breast. It was no longer stifling anguish, instead it was a horrible sadness. Pain laced through his chest, and with a gasp he shuddered. Sitting up gasping for air; it was as if it was being sucked from his very lungs. 

“She is winning.” The elezen smiled, “She is pulling you back.”

“Finish your story Hythlodaeus.” Hades hissed as he clutched at his collar bone. 

The other man waved his hand nonchalantly, teasingly, as if he did not want Hades to hold onto him any longer. “I was impaled. He tried to save her, I saved them both.” 

“Just as you were struck with the meteor.” Hades wheezed staring at the glowing hole in his friends chest. 

Hythlodaeus shrugged, smiling. “Hey, when you return to the living, tell him that my hot chocolate recipe is in my work desk under a false board. He will like it.” Hades winced but nodded. “Also, tell him, tell him I am sorry.” The Elezen’s smile faded a little, tears sprouting at the sides of his eyes. “Tell him, I, Haurchefant Greystone, am sorry I could not stay with him a little longer. But I do not regret my choices.”

Hades reached out and clasped his old friends arm. “You will be reborn, you will find him again.” Though his face was pained he tried to stare at his companion with an expression of staunch acceptance. That Hythlodaeus was tied to him, he would find his Miqo’te again. 

He waved off his friend's arm. “Go Hades, go you absolute fool. Stop fighting her, she needs you more than you think.” 

“Hades!! Please, yeh can't go!” 

He weary Ascian laughed, “Not as much as I need her.” The light faded into dark, the Elezen’s smiling face was the last thing Hades saw before he opened his eyes to find himself back in the arms of his Hero of Light.

[theaetherhealerffxiv]

Temperament

A FFXIV fanfiction - One shot

Pairing: Wol/wod x Emet-Selch

Rated: PG-17 [for safety]

WoL/Wod is NB with female leaning [you/yours/etc]

Word Count: 2370

Summary:  After the Greatwoods you return to rest in the Pendants; only to find Emet-Selch in your bed. With the conversation you had with him fresh in your mind you want to take this time to ask the Ascian questions only he can answer... 

Continuation of this

You had not expected to find a sleeping Ascian laying on your bed in the Pendants. You looked around for Ardbert, usually he was so very willing to appear when you came back to your room. Instead, you found a peaceful nothingness. You could not sense  the fallen warrior nor the eyes of the Exarch. Walking to your bed you tilted your head, reaching down to brush the older man’s hair from his face letting your fingertips graze his cheek. Causing his expression to squint and sleepy golden eyes to appear from under his hooded gaze. 

“Ah, the hero returns.” He murmurs shifting to give you room on the bed. “Care to rest hero? No prying eyes shall see you while I am within this room.” Yawning Emet-Selch shifted to sit up briefly and shed himself of his usual jacket. You stood frowning as he handed it to you. “Please, be a dear and put this on a chair? Oh and do hurry, I am very tired.” 

Sighing you snatched the coat from him and began to shed your own garments. After throwing the coat upon one of the chairs you walk over to the sink.  You grabbed a washcloth and soaked it in cool water, using it in a vain attempt to scrub away the days grime. You could hear a hum behind you, which you attempted to ignore. Throwing most of the garments that where dirty on the floor you snatched a shirt, which you found you did not recognize. Looking at the bed you saw a shirtless Emet laying with his back to you. 

“Truly?” You asked, annoyed. “You could have conjured me a new shirt, but you gave me yours?”

“Perhaps hero,” Came the sleepy snarky voice of the Ascian, “I wished to see you within my own shirt. Tis still warm I bet.” Groaning you slipped it on over your head - it was, deliciously warm. Wrapping yourself up in a hug you sighed and stood there a moment before hearing Emet speak again. “If you are quick I will hug you instead.” Blushing you looked at your bed to find him smirking coyly at you. You opened your mouth to stammer out a response but you were silenced by seeing the man reach out his hand to beckon you. A shiver traveled up your spine but you strode to your bed with purpose and pulled the covers back sinking into the mattress next to Emet-Selch. Who wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest with a sigh. 

Your ears burning you gently placed your hands on his bare chest, surprised to see dainty scars upon them. They looked like he had been attacked by a knife or something similar. “Emet,” you murmured. It had been sometime since the Greatwoods, since he saved you from your first bout with the Light within you. Perhaps it was those memories that spurred you on, but you had to ask. Above you you heard him grumble in response. “What are these?” Tracing the scars gingerly. 

“Hmm, I was an emperor hero.” He scoffed, clearly irritated that instead of sleeping you were trying to converse. “Not all liked my methods.” 

By the Twelve even you did not really understand his methods of leadership. Even though you had come to terms with being in love with the Ascian. You sighed. “They tried to kill you?” 

“Of course.” He answered curtly. “You likely do not remember,” 

“Hang on,” You pushed him back and he balked at you with a glare. “I do not remember?”

“Have you already forgotten hero?” He sighed. Rolling his eyes his voice patronizing as he continued. “Your soul is that of my past lovers. Every single one was you.” You squinted - so he admitted it. You where those people. Emet-Selch’s face softened as he reached out to caress your cheek. His golden eyes searching yours carefully as if he was unsure if he wanted to tell this story: that it was clearly still fresh within his mind. After a prolonged moment he sighed, conceding to your glare. “You, where my guard, my true lover despite me taking a wife. As Solus.” He clarified. “And stress not the woman knew that I loved you and not she.” Waving his hand he replaced it on your hip. “Regardless of your careful ministrations upon my safety assassins still often snuck into my palace, my quarters.” The Ascian grinned mischievously. “Caught in a passionate embrace we where, when the man appeared to try to kill me.” You blushed furiously as he leaned forward to kiss your forehead. “Alas, you, true to your nature protected me with your body dying instead of I.” His hand was like iron upon your waist as it traveled up to your back, and then your head. You wanted to look at his face but was unable to because of his grasp. Instead you felt the hot splash of tears upon your hair. “It was quite unfair. Of course, I had a son by this point, but regardless I still died of a broken heart weeks later.” 

You scoffed. “A broken heart, you Solus zos Glavus?” Part of you felt that he had died of that several times in whatever mortal life he had. The other part of you wanted to disregard it as a frivioulus fancy. The tears that fell and the arm that was around you of course dissuaded these thoughts but they lingered. 

“Yes. Did you not think it possible for one such as I to be wounded so?” He pulled away clearly irritated. “I spend my lifetimes searching for your soul foolish fragment. Every time, regardless of what gender or race you are. I search for you.” 

“Why.” You asked seriously. “Surely the temperament that Zodiark put upon you keeps you from having such attachments.”  

Emet rolled his eyes. “Yes, I am tempered, I have said this before. But he does not see it fit to impose his will upon us all the time like those lowly Primals that the beasts summon. He takes his time, urges us only when we stray from our goal.”

“To bring about the rejoining.” You muttered watching his face smile softly as if a memory was flitting across his mind's eye. 

He hummed. “The rejoining, a beautiful prospect. And then we shall sacrifice what little life there is to bring back those that we have lost.” Emet seemed far away from you; unlike when he had been telling the story of your previous life he seemed: tempered. 

“Why, I am right here am I not?” You asked, seeing him snap out of whatever stupor he had been in to turn his golden eyes back to you, shifting in the bed to lay his head against the shared pillow. 

“You are, and yet,” He caressing your face tracing your cheeks and lips. “You are just a hollow shell of who you used to be.” 

“I do not believe that.” You countered causing him to frown. “If that is so why do you continually seek me out?” This caused you to pause and then add; “Why did you not seek me out after you had ‘died’?”

Emet seemed slightly taken aback, as if the words out of your mouth greatly surprised him. His eyes were wide, his brows high upon his forehead and his mouth slightly ajar. “I,” He frowned, staring at your lips as he brought his hand back to press gently on your lower. “I am, was, tired. You see.” He murmured as if ashamed. “I could not bear another loss. I, you were so like yourself, in both that incarnation and this one-”

“I am myself Emet. Clearly being a hollow shell does not keep me from being who I once was.” You spoke as his thumb was still on your lip, his hand almost felt like it was shaking. Which was clearly out of the character you knew. 

“Speak not like that hero.” His eyes lowered, but you could not decipher his face. Was he angry at you? “You know me.” He spat.

“Your right,” You countered. “I do.” You dug your nails into his chest. “I may not remember, but I know what I feel. And I know you would have not given up that easily.” 

The Ascian growled and moved his hand to snatch your hair and pull your face to his kissing you with passion. Gasping in surprise he took the chance to force his tongue into your mouth. He groaned and shifted to press you against his body. Your own body boiled, emotions that you had felt that day in the Greatwoods came tumbling back twenty fold. You knew him, you knew how to push him to the edge, you knew he would give you the truth but twist it just so that you would not understand it. Hide just enough of it to keep you wanting. You moaned against him and then found that he was on top of you, pulling away disheveled. Frowning down at you.

“I came here to nap hero.” He panted, “Not be interrogated about past choices. Need you forget that you too are tempered?”

“I am not - “ He silenced you with an angry kiss. It was as if he was pushing lifetimes of need upon you; and you tried to respond back, but the bruising pace that he set kept you from reacting properly. After a moment he pulled away.

“Lifetimes, lifetimes I spent looking for you! Over and over and over!” He growled, leaning forward nipping and sucking at your neck. “You have no right to ask me, why.” You gasped under his touch, bowing your back under the sheets. You wanted more, you wanted him to touch you. “We had children, we made love, we died in each others arms so many times!” Emet-selch hissed. “Can you blame me for wanting a little rest away from you!” 

“No!” You cried, causing him to freeze. “No I do not blame you!” He shivered, his face buried in the crook of your neck. Your arms reaching up to bury in his earthen hair. “But why this lifetime! Why with me being a hero did you decide to return! It had not even been one full lifetime had it not since we last met?” Surprisingly tears sprung to your eyes. The Ascian pulled back, his face somber, the anger that he had exhibited moments before extinguished with your tears. 

His face, pained shifted to sit at your feet one hand covering his eyes. “I did not have a choice hero.” 

You sat up tears flowing freely. “And you cannot tell me why right?!”

He shook his head. “I can only say it is part of our great plan-”

“And what if it comes into fruition! What if you bring about the grand rejoining and my soul is no more? That you cannot bring it back! Or that you sacrifice it?!” You spat, knowing your words caused him pain, he was clearly struggling with himself. With the love he had for you, and with the weight of the countless deaths and wishes of the dead; the wishes of Zodiark. He hunched over now clutching his head. “Emet! Tell me! What will you do if you lose the one thing you clearly search for?!”

“I will not.” Came the heated response, his hands fell away and crazed eyes stared at you. You had pushed him past the breaking point, you were no longer speaking to the Emet you knew, but the tempered Ascian that was your enemy. “Zodiark will bring them back, we just have to create an appropriate sacrifice.” His hands reached out to you, “I will make you whole, you see? We will be together again my love -”

You slapped his hand away. “Leave.” The man before you stilled. “You are not Emet. Leave Tempered of Zodiark.”

His eyes fell, you could still see a glimmer of your Emet in there. His hand, which had stilled shot for your shoulders quicker than your tired body could move and you where in his grasp. “Hero,” He growled. “Do you know my name?”

You blinked, confused. “Emet-Selch the Ascian, and Solus zos Glavus the Garlean emperor?” You squeaked, his grip hurting you. 

“No, my name. Do you remember my name.” He emphasised the words, as if this name that he sought would free him from whatever will Zodiark was exerting upon him. You shook your head slowly, staring at him as your mind raced. A memory, you could see it, barely, it looked as if it was covered in fog and crystal, as if Hydalen herself did not wish for you to see it.

“Your, name?” You breathed as you watched Emet’s shoulders heave and fall, his body slouching and his hands retracting from your shoulders. His expression was disappointed, yet hopeful. 

“It is within your grasp, is it not?” He breathed. “But she does not wish you to see it.”

Your eyes widened.

“She controls you by hiding your past, just as Zodiark controls me by making me relive mine.” He slouched against the wall clearly exhausted. Rubbing his head he sighed, raising his hand. “Fear not, he has withdrawn. I am once more upon the correct path. You did wonders to shake my resolve hero.” The Ascian laughed and let himself fall upon the bed beside you. “Shall we take a break hero? No more of this interrogation I beg of you.” You watched him carefully, but seeing the deep bags under his eyes you settled down next to him. “Did I harm you while I was within the thralls?” Emet whispered as he pulled you closer to him.

“No damage has been done.” You responded carefully. Your mind still racing at his words, but against his bare chest you felt surprisingly at peace. As if nothing could touch you while you were in his arms. 

“Praise Zodiark.” He sighed, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “I am exhausted hero let us sleep.” 

You frowned, about to respond when you felt him breathe gently as sleep took him.

While he escaped to sleep you where left with many questions and no answers. 

[theaetherhealerffxiv]

A Singular Moment

A FFXIV fanfiction - One shot

Pairing: Wol/wod x Emet-Selch

Rated: PG-17 [for safety]

WoL/Wod is NB with female leaning [you/yours/etc]

Word Count: 2206

Summary:  You find yourself sick with your very first bout of Light: only to be found by Emet-Selch.

Rak’tika Greatwoods was shrouded in Light; the Lightwarden hiding somewhere within its depths. You though, where shivering under some random tree within the woods, far from your Scion companions. Something deep within your belly after ached, after absorbing the last Wardens Light you had felt something change. With a gasp you leaned heavily against the tree as pain blossomed like a sickly flower across your form. Twisting you dry heaved uselessly, clutching at your chest as the pain burned. Your hair kept falling in your view as you tried to expel whatever was making you ill. Suddenly cool gentle hands brushed your hair away and held it back for you as finally you threw up, a mixture of your lunch and bright liquid. Panting you felt the hands gently pull you back to set you against the tree. 

“What a state you are in hero.” The condescending words of the Ascian man murmured like a holy prayer to your ringing ears. Still unable to conjure words he continued unbound from your remarks. “Tell, me,” He said holding your chin gently. “The reason behind this.” It was a command, not gentle question. Mustering all your strength you shrugged, your shoulders falling heavily. Emet-Selch was clearly not pleased with this response. As his face twisted in frustration, he opened his mouth clearly about to repeat his statement before you lifted your hand in defeat and mentioned to the Light above. Before letting your hand fall to the side.

“To much,” You croaked. “I will be fine soon.”

The Ascian scoffed, scooping you effortlessly up into his arms. You gasped, finding that he had one hand - gloveless- pressed against the back of your neck momentarily before getting a better grasp upon your form. 

“So, the Light is affecting you.” Was the soft response. 

You struggled feebly, “Release me Emet! I am fine now!” Looking at his stern frown you knew what words fell from your lips where useless pleas. He turned away with you, away from the settlement with your companions. Panic settling in your gut replacing the dull ache. “Emet!” 

“Silence hero.” He hissed as a dark portal opened up before you two. “Take my good graces while they last and allow me to give you this moment of respite.” Stepping in the inky darkness it swirled around the two of you, blasting you specifically with icy air. It felt amazing to the heat lingering on your skin. Taking in a deep breath you felt the Light within you withdraw, the pain still lingering but the worst of it seemingly over. The darkness then faded away and you found yourself in a room littered with books and a messy bed. Large windows across from the bed showed a city that you could not recognize. Emet turned and strode swiftly over to the bed, laying you carefully down on it before sitting standing to roughly grab a chair that stood next to a large stack of books. He then sat it down and threw himself in it, reaching out with is ungloved hand to press it against your forehead. 

You frowned. “Are you, checking my temperature?” A smirk played at your lips as his golden eyes glared at you. It quickly vanished as he flipped his hand over to touch your cheek and then pressed his hand against your neck, before pulling back.

“I was. Remember, that I too once walked the land in mortal form. I had to tend to ill children of my own. Even my spouse’s upon occasion had to deal with such ministrations.” All the teasing you had planned faded as the concern upon the Ascians face caused you to blush. Which he saw and raised his eyebrows clearly amused. “‘Tis not easy dealing with fussy children, but a fussy hero.” He teased softly.

You scoffed and shifted to sit up in the bed. “Regardless I am fine now.”

He shook his head. “Clearly, the fever upon your brow speaks differently.” You frowned.

“Emet, why are you tending to me. I am your enemy, a brief curiosity am I not?” You leaned forward as he watched you with careful, calculating eyes. 

“Does it matter if you are?” The older man asked, sighing. “You could say the loves I took years ago where as such as well.” Reaching out a hand he brushed your hair back. “Yet here you stand once again.”

You blinked, surprised. “Excuse me?” Emet retracted his hand quickly and frowned as if surprised with himself as well. Then he sighed, clearly frustrated, now knowing he would have to explain.

“The color of your soul.” He waved his hand. “It is the same as my previous lovers.” 

You balked. “Are you saying I am them?” The Ascian hummed, his intent clear: he was not going to give you a definite answer. You groaned and threw your hands up shaking your head. Then dropping them you held your head carefully. That would have made sense; the feelings of comfort when with him, even the strange lingering. Even with Haurchefant you did not feel such… attachment. Like a comfortable familiarity, you easily took Emet-selch’s aloof nature and comments with snarky responses of your own. Yes, that would make a lot of sense. But why? 

“You are smarter than I take you for hero. Even if you are just an incomplete being. You sense it do you not?” Looking up you suddenly found yourself under the Ascian his eyes burning with a familiar glint. You found your breath taken from you under their golden glow. “You know me.” His head tilted, leaning down he was about to kiss you. Reacting quickly you raised your hands between your lips. Blocking him from completing the movement. Your own eyes wide with shock and your face flush with embarrassment. “Every time,” Emet groaned moving away swiftly. Then bringing his ungloved hand once again to your brow he frowned. “Still warm. Tell me hero does your vision swim?”

“After you did that!!” You grumbled, but rolling your eyes at his glare you closed them for a moment before staring at the ceiling. Yes, you could see it, a white light shimmered at the edges of your vision. It was very faint but there. “A little.” You conceded shifting to lay flat upon the bed, that at this point you could only guess was his. 

“Explain to me what it looks like.” Emet stood and shuffled to a cabinet shifting through small glass bottles.

With a heavy sigh you obliged. “Like the Light that used to be in the sky around Lakeland, but brighter, more pure. Its is so faint within my vision though. Barely there.” You heard a scoff and once again the Ascian was at your side. 

“They push all their hopes and dreams upon your shoulders without a second thought for your safety.” He had a cup in one hand and a variety of bottles in the other. Setting the glass between his knees you watched as he mixed the various liquids. “You are the hero after all.” Pausing he looked at you, your own eyes darting up to his. “Do you not have dreams of your own?”

You frowned. “Do you? Or is it all Zodiarks?”

Emet glared. “Ah, so should I rephrase my question? As you wish, do you have dreams of your own, and not that of Hydaelyn?” 

“I am not tempered by Hydaelyn!” You snapped back, shifting to sit up and stare at him with venom. He glared back, angry, frustrated. You looked away, once again condeding. “Yes, even if I am tempered I do have dreams of my own.” A strained laugh came from your lips as you pulled your knees to your chest tilting your head away from Emet. “At this point, I truly doubt that I will ever get to experience them. I am sure I will die upon the battlefield for the masses.” Pressing a hand to your forehead you peeked over at the Ascian beside you. “After all that is what a hero does, no?”

“What are they.” Emet demanded as he set the glass bottles on a stack of books beside them, swirling the cup to clearly mix the liquid inside of it. 

You frowned. “Why do you care?”

“Why would I not?” He asked handing out the drink to you. “Before you tell me that you will not drink it, all it will do is ease the aches and fever. It will not be able to balance your aether.” 

Reaching out you sighed. “Well, course, nothing can do that.” You murmured taking the cool glass cup you sniffed the medicine and winced; it smelled bitter. Beside you Emet laughed, and you glared at him, but he waved it off and clearly urged you to drink it and answer his question. Sipping it you groaned and held it in your lap sighing. “Right, my dreams.” Tilting your head you looked at Emet-Selch with a gentle smile. “To live a quiet life and marry. Maybe have a few children of my own, live off in the woods, or near a beach. Away from the masses where I can be… myself.” You sighed taking another sip. As the liquid slid down your throat you felt the pain in your belly began to cease and your body seemed to be returning to normal. 

With a gentle hum you saw Emet stand and laungly wave his hand at you indicating that you scoot over. Obliging the Ascian you watched curiously as he sat down next to you in the bed. Draping an arm over your shoulder he gently pushed your head into the fluffy fur of his coat. “A gentle dream for a gentle fragmented soul.” Pressing a kiss to the top of your head he sighed. “If we had met under more, favorable circumstances, I would have courted you properly. Doing everything within my power to allow that dream of your to pass.” He kissed you again sighing. 

“Why?” You murmured into his collar. 

“You know me.” He muttered again. 

“I dont.” You answered trying to shift to look at him, but he kept his lips on your head. Making you feel like you could not move. 

“You do, but you do not wish to admit it.” Emet whispered, placing a hand on yours that still held the cup.  “Finish the medicine and I shall return you to your companions.” 

Sitting up you brought the cup to your lips again: a feeling of sadness washing over you. You doubted the two of you would be this open with each other again. Or that you would have a chance. You paused, then chugged the rest of the liquid coughing. A chuckle waifed from the man beside you. 

“Dont laugh,” You coughed. Emet shifted you and gently patted your back to help the coughing fit pass. “Thank you.”

Getting up off the bed the Ascian shrugged. “While I graciously accept your thanks at this time such things are not truly needed. I was just acting upon a whim of nostalgia in helping you.”

“Because of my soul?” You asked watching him as he snatched the cup from you bringing it to a sink that you had not seen before. Carefully observing his back you saw his shoulders drooping more than usual as if he did not want this moment to end.

“Perhaps.” He said, turning back around you found yourself face to face with the regular Emet-Selch. His face covered with a smirk. “Are you ready to return?” Holding out his hand you hesitated.

“We won't have a moment like this again will we?” You asked, your voice a breathy whisper. 

“You know me, hero. I do not need to answer that.” Emet reached out taking your hand and giving it a kiss before smiling again at you. You smile back.

“You are right. I do know you.” Tilting your head you felt a warmth from the very corner of your being spread across your form. You did know him; you have known him for a long time. You cannot remember any of it, but at this point it did not matter. The brief shock on his face was reward enough for accepting the once foreign emotions. Gripping his hand you brought yourself to a standing position. “Shall we?” 

Suddenly forlorn Emet stared at you seriously. “I did not tell you if I had dreams did I?” 

You blinked. “No, you did not -”

The darkness surrounded the two of you bringing you from his room to the tree you had been ill by likely hours before. The Light still shone bright in the sky as you stood in wonder watching Emet step forward still holding your hand with his ungloved one. “You,” He whispered leaning forward pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “You are my dream.”

And then he was gone, leaving you alone in the woods. Out in the distance you heard the calls of familiar voices of the Scions. Shifting you tried to push the thoughts away but the burning of your lips reminded you of the kiss, his voice echoing in his mind. 

Above all of Zodiark’s will, above the pain of losing his home; you where his dream.

[theaetherhealerffxiv]

So I redrew my favorite panel from my shitty comic and?? 

hello this is like a month apart at most?? who am I? 

Has my love for this trash man made me get better at drawing?