#u know i totally forgot how Lahabrea actually died i had no recollection of it

[pangolinheart]

(how far did you have to dig to find that post wow lol)

Anyway Lahabrea

[[Actually it wasn't that hard to find! My obsessive tagging system isn't only for forcing my followers to look at huge blocks of text they don't care abou - it's also so I can find posts when I want to go back to them without going through hundreds of pages of reblogs!

Anyway, when I saw this ask I thought this was going to be the hardest pairing to write for... but it was actually one of the easiest. At first I thought the only way to make something work was to do something Hephaistos/Azem, but I still haven't played Endwalker so I wasn't confident in my ability to write for that time period, and based on ambient spoilers it seems like Hephaistos was pretty preoccupied with his wife and child. Then I realized I didn't actually know what Lahabrea really looked like and, well...

I'm not super happy with the way this turned out, but I'm too lazy to edit it again so it's good enough.]]

Send me a character and I'll describe a ship with them and my OC.

Cid | M'zhet | Lahabrea

TW: Dubious consent (implied). Nothing graphic or anything, it's just, um, sketchy as hell.

What are you drinking?” He leaned over the bar, putting his weight on his elbows. He didn’t sit down – not yet. He waited for an invitation.  

The miqo’te perched on the next barstool looked him up and down appraisingly. She didn’t even bother to hide it. Not in the mood to play coy tonight, it seemed. Maybe she had had a rough day.  

He had waited for her to notice him from across the room. And notice she did. Their eyes met and he fancied he could almost hear her thinking to herself: He’ll do. 

“That depends,” She almost purred, “What are you buying?” 

She hadn’t asked him to sit down, but she might as well have. He slid onto the plush velvet seat. This was a nicer place than usual, he noted. A classy little place where respectable people came to get less-than-respectably drunk. Was she celebrating something? Or did she just want a change of scenery? Who could say? He beckoned the bartender over. Wine seemed like it would suit the mood. He ordered something red and expensive – it wasn’t as if money meant much to him, anyway. 

He was an elezen tonight – dark hair, dark skin, dark eyes. He usually preferred hyur, but this body had been available and seemed like something she might like. Then again, her tastes were wide and varied.  

Why was he doing this again? 

It was no use asking himself the question. He didn’t have any new answers. He told himself that keeping tabs on this shard’s Warrior of Light was his business, but even he didn’t believe that. This could hardly be called business.  

Maybe it was because she made him feel the echo of something he hadn’t felt in a long time: interest. How long had it been since he was really interested in something? Detachment had been second nature to him for so long that he had almost forgotten what it felt like.  

And she was interesting for a mortal, at least in some ways. In others she was almost offensively average. And yet there were times she almost seemed… familiar, somehow. Perhaps it was because she was a Warrior of Light. He’d seen plenty of Warriors on plenty of shards; he could hardly be blamed if they all started to blend together. If nothing else, though, she was interesting because of how interested Hydaelyn seemed to be in her. She had expended quite a lot of power to protect her from the might of the Ultima Weapon, after all. With her strength already waning, he couldn’t help but wonder why she had risked exhausting what little of her power remained on this Warrior of Light. 

The bartender returned with two glasses of wine, and he offered one to her. She accepted it with thanks and took a sip, though her gaze never left his. His own traced along the features of her face with which he had become so well-acquainted – her dark eyelashes over her mismatched eyes, the swoop of her bangs across her forehead, the gentle curve of her lips. He smiled, and she smiled back. 

The first time had been an accident, of course. Entirely improvised. It had been shortly after he had possessed one of her colleagues, Thancred, but before he had been able to manufacture a pretense for the man’s absence. He had, of course, watched his vessel closely enough to confidently impersonate him, at least for a short time. He had planned to slowly withdraw from the Scions, until his presence would no longer be missed. A contingency he had not prepared, however, for was Thancred being seized by the Warrior of Light herself and all-but dragged to a dive bar outside of Ul’dah. He had been caught off guard by this turn of events and he was left with no choice but to humor her, drinking and laughing (or at least pretending to) until the early hours of the morning. Fortunately, he doubted she would be able to remember the night clearly enough to recall if he had said or done anything out of character. His grand plan had also failed to account for being pulled into her sleeping chambers upon their return to the Waking Sands, and into bed with her. He had no way of knowing if this behavior was typical and expected or not. He had never seen it happen before, but that didn’t necessarily mean it hadn’t. He was a busy man, after all. So, he had decided in the moment to just… play along.  

It had certainly been a novel experience. 

“So,” He said in the elezen’s low, smooth voice. “Are you here waiting for a friend?” 

She twirled the stem of her wineglass between her fingers. Always so fidgety. “More like looking for one.” 

“Well,” He set his own wine glass back on the bar. “I’d be happy to keep you company while you look.” 

The second time had been… less excusable. 

After the debacle that was Ultima – curse Hydaelyn for her interference! – he had needed time to formulate a new plan. And while he devised his next strategy, he had had little else to do but keep tabs on the Warrior of Light and her companions. 

It was during this time that he had begun to recognize a pattern to her behavior. On a semi-regular basis, usually when she had quarreled with a compatriot or was otherwise upset about something or other, she would seek out an establishment that sold alcohol and spend several hours there, eventually leaving with someone else. A different person each time.  

Having been expelled from the body of Thancred, he had been forced to seek out a new host, presumably yet unknown to the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, and in his idleness he had begun to wonder… 

Would she even notice? 

She would not, it turned out. At least, she hadn’t yet. And that had been half a dozen times ago, give or take. It had become a fun little game to amuse himself with while he waited for wheels to turn. No round was ever quite the same, and he never used the same guise twice. He tried to vary his selections; different appearances, different origins, different genders. Recently he’d begun branching out into different races, as well (though they might as well all be the same to him). The other unsundered had always nagged him about the frequency with which he discarded his vessels, to which he usually responded that it was hardly his fault these fragments were so breakable and so boring. Not everyone’s scheme could include the industrialized production of clones like Emet-Selch’s did. In the event he hadn’t assumed a new vessel since the last time, though, projecting a different appearance was a small feat for an Ancient of Lahabrea’s caliber.  

He tried a different tact in each iteration, partly to avoid arousing her suspicion and partly because it made the game more interesting. He wasn’t always successful – sometimes she was only in the mood for drinking, other times there was another patron than interested her more than he did, which he found annoying. Once he had even said something that offended her for some reason. He couldn’t remember what it was. Did it really matter? 

She was watching him thoughtfully over the lip of her wineglass. She had half-emptied the glass already. He wondered if that was all it would take tonight. But when she opened her mouth, it wasn’t to invite him somewhere more private. 

“Have we met before? You seem familiar for some reason.” 

The question surprised him, but he didn’t lose his cool, didn’t miss a beat. 

“I shouldn’t think so. You don’t seem like the sort one would have an easy time forgetting,” 

Her grin took on a sly tilt. “Careful. With talk like that one might start to think you’re getting me drunk with ulterior motives,” 

Internally, he sighed with relief, though he didn’t let it touch his face. Instead, he gave her a coy smile and picked up his wineglass for another sip. “Perish the thought! I would hate for you to think me so ungentlemanly,” 

He probably should have stopped after one of her cohorts killed Nabriales. It was no small feat to kill an Ascian, even a sundered soul like his. In fact, he hadn’t even thought the mortals capable of it. Somehow, though, that only made things more interesting. It added the tiniest hint of danger to his little game, and he found he enjoyed it all the more. He had little real cause to worry, of course. Nabriales had been the architect of his own demise.  

Even so, after the last round he had sworn to himself he wouldn’t do it again. 

And had known with unshakeable certainty that he would. 

She set her now empty wineglass on the bar. She had shifted to face him more fully, and he might have missed the way she leaned ever so slightly inward had he not been looking for it. 

“Would you like another glass?” 

She considered it for a moment, or at least pretended to. “Please.” 

“Of course,” He ordered another glass and waited until the barkeep’s errand had taken him safely out of earshot. 

“You know,” he said, surveying her as she had him earlier. “I don’t believe I’ve given you my name.” 

Her lips quirked in a way that he found for some reason endearing. “I don’t believe I’ve asked you for it,” 

He raised his eyebrows in amusement and opened his mouth to respond with some quip or other when he felt someone tap his shoulder. 

He turned in his seat, a bit irritated by the interruption, to see a young Midlander with brooding grey eyes. “May I have a word?”  

He had never seen the man before, but he would recognize his brother anywhere. 

Oh dear. 

How was he going to explain this little caper? He wondered. His previous justifications had barely convinced him, so they certainly wouldn’t convince the Emissary. 

Ah, well. He was sure he would think of something. 

He was, after all, Lahabrea: Speaker of the Convocation. 

Okay in all seriousness this is definitely the most off-the-wall ship I was sent this round. I don't think it would happen, and if it did it would be a total shit-show. It's not necessarily because Lahabrea's a villain - there are of compelling villains ships out there. It's because he's both a villain and not Rhiki's type. He's braggadocios, megalomaniacal, and patronizing (and if there's one connecting thread between all of my characters it's that none of them would up with being condescended to by A Man.) And, for what it's worth, there's not really anything for Lahabrea to like about Rhiki. As an Ascian he's never portrayed as having any interest in or sympathy for mortals. The most any hyur, miqo'te, elezen, etc. could ever aspire to be to Lahabrea is "useful." To be honest, he doesn't really even seem to have any affection for his fellow ascians, though I'm aware there's something of a canonical reason for that. ARR really struggled with creating compelling antagonists, so Lahabrea (and most of the other villains) are painted as just... cartoonishly evil. I'm sure that he's given a lot more pathos in the Pandaemonium raid series, but I haven't played it yet so I can't speak to how well the original Lahabrea would have gotten along with Rhiki/Rhiki's Azem. Really, if you cut out all of the enw backstory, the above is really the only angle I could really see having any legs (as slimy and terrible as those legs are.) In realizing that I didn't know what Lahabrea actually looked like, I also realized that Rhiki has no idea what the real Lahabrea looks like. When I went over all of the times the WoL actually encounters Lahabrea, it dawned on me that the only time Rhiki sees him without his mask... he's Thancred, which is where the idea came from. (TBF to both of them I don't think ARR Rhiki would have had sex with Thancred no matter how shitfaced she was lol. This is just for the sake of exploring the possibilities.) Whether or not Rhiki actually found out about Lahabrea's body-hopping shenanigans is up for debate. I don't necessarily see how she would unless he or Elidibus told her. Lahabrea doesn't seem like he would have any motivation or opportunity to tell her. Elidibus might, if only to make it harder for Lahabrea to do anything stupid that might jeopardize their mission in the future. Obviously, Rhiki would not be pleased to learn this. I don't think any relationship the two of them could have could possibly change the trajectory of the story. The relationship isn't necessarily... romantic in nature. And I doubt there's anything about Rhiki that would make Lahabrea fall so head over heels for her that he would abandon his plans to resurrect Zodiark, which inevitably involves her death. Rhiki has no feelings for Lahabrea (except maybe anger, if she ever found out) but even if she did, she doesn't really have the opportunity to spare his life, since it's Thordan VII that ultimately kills him. BUT this was still a very fun thought experiment! I still apologize for everything that's happened above this point in the post, though. ^^;