#what did Thule ever do to you????

[astaraelthesnek]

Time zones

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Iceland and Greenland get their own little paragraph. They are both wrong. Iceland claims its in 0 when it is all in -1. Just… anyway. Greenland’s alright, I hear you say. They go from -1 to -5, so they just chose to all be -3, that’s fine, right? Nope. They decided to make one little section 0 when it is obviously in -1 or -2, there’s a -1 section in -2, and there’s a place called Thule, very clearly in -5, which they have labelled as -4. It could have been so good if they had just stuck to all being -3, but no.

[haunted-xander]

Do you ever think about how Alisaie's biggest fear is losing the people she cares about? How the very first conversation you have with her alone, a deeply personal one, is about her confiding in you about those fears? Telling you that she hated the state of the world Louisoix died for because, to her, it wasn't worth the sacrifice? She tells you about all the allies she made and lost, who she watched die and could do nothing to save them.

Do you ever think about how Alisaie was consistently one of the first to act, to recklessly throw herself at danger throughout stb? She didn't care (as much) about herself getting hurt, but she'd be damned if she let her friends suffer without doing anything. She has to be fast and proactive, because if she can't protect them even when striking first, how would she be able to when acting after the fact?

Do you ever think about how every time her loved ones are in peril/are in risk of being in peril her heart just breaks? How whenever someone's safety is unsure she panics and immediately tries to contact them/rush to their aid? When Castrum Abania's cannon shot the tower that, for all she knew, Alphinaud was still in, she immediately stops what she's doing and runs to it in panic because her brother was in there and he might be dead.

Do you ever think about how when the Scions start getting their souls yanked to the First, Alisaie reacts the strongest? How, when Urianger and Y'shtola got taken, she fell to her knees shaking Uriangers body, screaming for him to wake up? And when Gaius appears with Alphinaud in the Burn, she immediately goes to fight him (before being stopped by Hien) because this man, who has been her enemy, is holding her brother's lifeless body. She doesn't care that she can't possibily beat him, he has her brother and she's already lost so much in such a short amount of time. She's lost Thancred, Y'shtola and Urianger already, she can't lose Alphinaud too.

Do you ever think about how you are the only one she can fully rely on at that time, but who is also at risk of being taken away? Of how she's so desperate for you to stay, to not be taken away, that Alisaie, who, for all her bluntness, prefers to rely on herself first and foremost, begs you not to leave her? She begs you. Alisaie does not beg. She yells at you to not do something, and she'll scold you to hell and back if you do it anyway, but she does not beg. But this time she did.

And then she ends up being taken away right in front of you. She cries out for help and uses her very last energy to reach out for you. And then she falls limp.

Do you ever think about how, when Alphinaud turns to tell her his plans at the end of Ultima Thule, she immediately rejects it without even letting him say it? She's lost so much and experienced so much grief, not only overall but also just in Ultima Thule. And she loathes to bring that grief onto another. Especially to one who has already lost so much, like you. She hates it. She ends up doing it, yes, but she hates it still.

DO YOU EVER THINK ABOUT-

[witchlingcirce]

My honest truth is that I loved the Thule plot in QOAAD, and I think it opens really good opportunity’s in the wicked powers.

Mainly (and I’ve talked about this over a hundred times) is that I think Janus and Thule!Simon (I’m banking on my theory that he’s alive) could have such a phenomenal arc that I need so badly. I know a lot of people want reconciliation with the two but I don’t want WAR. The last thing Simon ever said to Janus was “I’ll kill you Jace herondale” THATS what I need. Because I want you to put this into Simon’s perspective, Clary died trying to save Jace, Jace helped Sebastian turn this world into hell, The same Jace that did nothing to help Isabelle when she wanted to kill Sebastian (rip my goat no one has balls like you Thule!Isabelle). It’s true that Jace didn’t do this by his own accord, but he still did them. I can’t imagine how that Simon feels knowing that Lilith coming back, or Clary getting glorious is his fault.

I think Janus as a villain is so interesting because he’s quite literally just a shell of what Jace is. Reading his perspective is so interesting because it’s almost like he’s mixed himself with Sebastian. But his relationship with Ash is so interesting as well. There’s so much more interesting possibilities within Thule as well.

Kit being able to meet his mother (if she’s alive), Ty see Thule!Livvy, and there’s literally so much more. I am so excited for TWP and I hope there’s a good Thule plot for me.

[laspocelliere]

Day Twenty: Duel

A lifetime in Ishgard had prepared Aymeric for colossal, impressive rooms. When he stepped into the palace of the Dawnservant, however, he couldn’t help the way he looked up, and up, and up, the enormous receiving chambers seeming to have no ceiling at all for how high it went. Torchlight flickered against the warm stone walls, and at the far end, the Dawnservant himself had sat, comfortable and patient, waiting for his invited guest to approach.

Gulool Ja Ja was a calm, authoritative figure on his throne, fingers drumming absently on the armrests, waiting with a bemused, parental smile as Aymeric came forward. A far cry, to be sure, from the cold, ultimate power that his father had once held in Ishgard, and the long, sharp shadows that he cast upon his unwanted son.

The Dawnservant, by contrast, seemed to look at him fondly, even without knowing him.

“So, stranger,” Gulool Ja Ja began, spreading his hands out in welcome. “I hear you have come to our shores in search of my daughter’s champion.”

How strange, to have her referred to in that way, Aymeric thought to himself as he tried to collect his words properly. The woman he had devoted life and limb to, the one who had his sword and his heart in equal measure, summed up in a manner that addressed neither her accomplishments nor her life at all. A handful of words that had nothing to do with her, and the impossibility that she was, and yet – it was all that anyone here knew her as. 

That, at least, was by design. Before she’d left for Tural, they’d discussed it at length. There was a new danger that came with her reputation after Ultima Thule; in particular, her apparent resurrection following the deliverance of the Star. Threats may have been eliminated, but that type of legendary status meant an open door for another instance to try and eliminate her now that she had, in theory, ‘let her guard down’. 

She would go, but she wouldn’t fight. She would watch, but she wouldn’t interfere. She needed to keep an eye on proceedings, that much they agreed; but nothing in Tural was worth the risk of drawing attention to what – and what – she really was.

Aymeric met the Dawnservant’s discerning gaze, and didn’t falter. “I am.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then, like sunlight breaking over the sea, the Head of Resolve’s face broke out into a toothy, crooked, delighted grin.

“I see you, stranger,” he said, laughing merrily around his words. “No stranger at all! You are her consort.”

Bemused, Aymeric bowed before Tural’s exalted ruler. “I don’t think I’ve quite heard it put that way before,” he said, straightening. Amusement danced in his bright blue eyes. “I don’t dislike it.”

“She never said a word!” The Dawnservant slapped his knees happily, pushing himself to his feet. “I would have had a proper welcome for you, had I known.”

Aymeric’s smile softened, and the expression that had given him away to the sharp-eyed ruler was back when he spoke of his wife. “She’s not one to speak of her personal life.”

“Nor you either, I reckon!” Gulool Ja Ja looked down at the elezen man, seeming to size him up anew. “I am very curious to meet the man who our lauded champion has aligned me with.” With the light of a new idea, the Dawnservant’s toothy smile twisted ever-wider. “You know, I got to know her by challenging her to a duel.”

“Is that so?” Aymeric took stock of the leader before him; his power, his legacy, his considerable strength. “And did she land you on your back?”

The Dawnservant’s laughing guffaw was so boisterous, it nearly hit the rafters high above. 

“She did at that!” He admitted cheerily. “Not in my lifetime have I come across such a worthy opponent. She is strong and capable, your warrior.”

“Wife.” Aymeric’s correction was quiet, but the pride he held at being able to hold such a word in his mouth was something he couldn’t hide. “She’s my wife.”

Gulool Ja Ja’s smile didn’t falter, for all that it softened.

“Well then,” he said, slamming his fist into his opposite palm decisively. “If that is the case, I think you and I will need to duel as well, stranger. I have grown rather fond of our champion, you see. I would need to see that she has chosen herself a worthy consort.”

The delight in the Dawnservant’s tone was contagious, and Aymeric found himself smiling. “I would be honoured.”

“Wonderful! I will summon you again, and mind you bring everything you have; I will be holding you to a very high standard, stranger.”

“Aymeric,” he offered, bowing once more, Ishgardian courtesy running deep in his veins. The Dawnservant chuckled, and ducked his head reverently in return.

“Until we meet again, Aymeric.”

[giyeh-park]

Moments when Ash was such a simp for Dru:

Bro was ready to throw hands if they did something to dru. "she has the protection of my court", oook

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DONT REMEMBER ME?? 😭😭😭"

Yes Ash, the girl you saw once in your entire life and have been thinking about ever since. The girl whose drawing you saved even when you changed dimensions doesn't remember you. Ouch (I know he practiced in front of the mirror for when he saw her again)

Hasn't it happened to you that you accidentally tell too much to the person you like? Well, Ash was nowhere near telling Dru all about his trip to Thule if Janus didn't arrive.

Ok, where do I start? First, he looks like a girl who brought a boy into her room and is now nervous about getting caught. All that time he could have sent her back but he preferred to flirt with her for a little while and see if she remembered. Then, as soon as Janus appears, he sends her back because he knows that if they see her they will kill her. And he gives him a piece of clothing, which I am sure is very dangerous considering that there are possibly spells that could hurt him through having something of his, and I am also very sure that he knows it but when he is with Drusilla he simply does not think.

And all of this in like 4 pages... Omg

[lookbluesoup]

I know shippy stuff and canon-adjacent stuff is popular and I'm certainly not dissing those. I like them too, they're a lot of fun! And AUs are great, I have so many!

But man, I wish there was more... idk, emphasis and exploration of the FFXIV lore, and those moments that have to have happened but aren't shown on screen - talked about and written about and illustrated here on tumblr.

That's usually been my favorite part of fandoms, discussing the lore with other fans in-depth and sharing theories, and seeing how everyone's characters would handle those big or quiet moments from the story itself. Exploring how a game mechanic/boss fight would feel from a story perspective, and what it would mean to the characters.

It's not entirely absent from here, but even when I make my own meta posts, even if they get lots of notes, I tend to see very little discussion added compared to what I'm used to from other fandoms. And when new patches come out, there's not a lot of deep talk about the story itself circulating. Maybe I've just been lucky in my previous spaces!

But... I want to know how the WoL and Graha bonded during the Crystal Tower raids. Did they sit around the campfire at night and talk? Did they drink and sing and laugh and argue?

What was it like, recovering from Ultima Thule? How did it feel to set out on the road again, leaving the title of Scion behind? Did they give their friends a tour of Ishgard? Did they visit Edmont? What was it like in the trenches of Ghimlyt Dark, for these characters who have never seen war before, versus the ones who have? Did the WoL help stabilize Lakeland, and tend wounded after the sin eater attacks?

I want late night study sessions with the twins, bittersweet work in the hot sun rebuilding Ala Mhigo, learning to fight on dragonback, Hraesvelgr's brood visiting Ishgard on diplomatic forways. I want snarking with Emet Selch while you help people with "side quests" in Norvrandt. I want gentle moments with Ryne on the road because if anyone understands the suffocating feeling of immense responsibility Hydaelyn and Minfilia have dropped on that child, it's the WoL.

What was it like for the WoL to fight the pirates in Sastasha? To see the women taken captive there? To see the Drowned mutilated by Leviathan's tempering? How did they handle the narrow tunnels and rickety elevators in Copperbell, and the giants angry after centuries of unjust imprisonment? Did they step in Aurum Vale's goldbile and have a shoe burnt off? Did they bring a pet korpokkur home from the Arboretum? Do they carry scars?

Do they take the manacutter out for joyrides? Did Grani recognize the color of their soul, and choose them over the tempered twist of Emet Selchs, or did Emet charge his familiar with looking after them? Have they ever been robbed in Limsa Lominsa? Did they ever buy loinfruit?

Does that goobbue sproutling grow up? The coerl kitten become a battle steed? The wolf pup a guardian? Do the sylphs play games with the WoL when they visit the Shroud? Do they carry a polished shell to remind them of their Clutchfather? Do they stop by the guild to check on the Deftarm whenever they're in Dravania?

What was it like trekking the spindly mountains of Othard, riding a Yol for the first time, seeing the endless plains of green, and the dead white of the Burn?

Do they still have nightmares about Haurchefant, or are they good dreams remembering his smile? Did he teach them to make hot chocolate? Did they stay up all night when the Scions lost their souls, waiting by the bedsides with a candle and feeling helpless?

Do they visit Amaurot, even after Emet Selch is gone? Are they still trying to remember? Did they look up at the night sky in Elpis and feel an indescribable sense of loss?

Was there ever a moment in Endwalker where they almost became a Blasphemy themselves? Did they ever answer Venat's question? Do they know that the love their friends had for them, saved them?

[astrology-bf]

FFXIV Write 2024 | Day 7 "Morsel"

Master Post | My AO3 | Challenge Info

~ 1.3k words | Teen | Gen | WoL & Menphina | CW: Angst, Endwalker Spoilers

“May I ask you something, my lady?” Ifan asked, gazing up towards Menphina in her majesty. The goddess smiled at Ifan, floating a few yalms above the marble paths of the Omphalos. 

“But of course, my child,” she said, her tone a silver tinkling of icy bells. “I shall do my utmost to answer candidly.”

The Warrior of Light smiled back, but there was hesitation in it. 

“You said you heard every prayer, right?” he asked. “No matter how small or distant?”

Menphina nodded gracefully in answer. “That is so. Though we are bound to nonintervention, our children ever have our ears.” she said.

Ifan paused as his lips pinched in a sheepish look.

 “...You must have heard some pretty nasty things, huh?” he speculated, with an off-handed tone. 

“Indeed. To varying levels of vulgarity.” she said, with a light laugh. 

Though he chuckled along with her, Ifan’s face grew somewhat grave. His mouth twisted as he looked off to the side, and his right hand went to his left wrist to try and stop himself from fidgeting.

“Guess that means you’ve heard my prayers too, then?” he asked, quietly and after a short silence.

The sheen moons of her unpupiled irises remained affixed on him, and her face and voice took on a sad edge; an uneasy night after a bloody day. “...I have, my child.” she answered.

Ifan let out a soft breath, his gaze shifting to the ground. “Well…” He wet his lips, and nodded without looking up. “I asked you to judge me kindly, and here I am. So… judge away.”

Menphina gazed at Ifan carefully, her face still sad but carrying a firm resolve. Her eyes went to the faintly pained expression on his face, a reflex from the memory of having cried so much his eyes began to sting, as well as to his throat where he kept swallowing. Though he said nothing, his voice was still as clear to her as those dark moments by the homespun altar Ifan always set up in his inn rooms where he prayed every morning and each night. 

Fairest goddess, wandering the night, in your name I bear my heart… Judge me kindly for my sins. I ask no forgiveness. I don’t deserve it. Just… take care of them, please. The men I love… the men I hurt… Give them happiness. Give them peace.

The goddess closed her eyes, and nodded slowly.

“I judge you to be human, Ifan.” Menphina stated, clearly. Then she opened her eyes, and smiled softly at the Warrior of Light again.

Ifan inhaled sharply, looking up at her. His eyebrows fell towards the ends, and his face became beseeching. 

“What kind of human? The sort that-” The magician cut himself off, taking in a shaky breath before shaking his head as he gazed off towards the side again. 

“...I sleep around too much,” he continued, “I fall in love too quickly, and it messes everything up. Things might feel better after Ultima Thule, but…” Ifan shook his head again, closing his eyes as he struggled to put thought to words.

Menphina tilted her head sympathetically, a quiet smile on her face as she let Ifan wade through the mess of feeling in his head and heart. “Take your time, dear.” she said.

Ifan paced himself; focusing on steadying his breathing first, then working up his courage to admit to one of the Twelve themselves the true feelings of his heart… which was easier than he expected, but not surprising as he’d done it all his life.

“...It frightens me that I have the capacity to do that sort of thing at all,” he said, quietly. “To treat people as badly as I did. It.. it feels like if I forgive myself for anything…” Ifan’s eyes were closed, and he took in a pained gasp as if afraid to finish what he wished to say. Menphina waited for a little while before assisting him. 

“You may err again, yes?” she supplied, gently, “That is your fear?”

The magician exhaled. He nodded, then looked up at her again. “Aye.” he admitted.

Menphina gave a little hum as she considered what to say, her smile growing more thoughtful and sedate. Then it widened again, and she nodded down at Ifan gracefully once more. 

“You have no need of my permission to forgive yourself, Ifan,” she said. “Yet if you need it, then it is yours. Wholeheartedly.”

Ifan’s lips parted, then he swallowed before smiling up at her with a faint wetness in his eyes. “...Thank you, my lady. I’m very grateful.” he said.

Her smile widened yet further as she canted her head down towards him, peering at him pointedly. “As am I, for having had the chance to speak with you.” Menphina said, with that same brightness she had used when greeting him. Then it took on a softer and more reassuring quality as she went on. “Be at ease, my child… Truly wicked people have no fear of wickedness, thus how can you be so?”

The Warrior of Light’s smile faded. His chin lowered and his lips pursed into a faintly fearful, disbelieving frown. “...Do you really mean that?” he asked.

Menphina nodded. “I judge you to be a kind man, my child,” she said. “And one in sore need of some company from his friends, and love, as well.” Her eyes glanced up in the direction of the center of the Omphalos for emphasis, followed by a knowing smile.

Ifan’s frown began to fade at the reminder that he wasn’t by himself. A small and amused breath escaped his nostrils as he smiled. 

“Aye,” he agreed, standing upright again. “I think you’re right.”

He didn’t turn to leave, however. Instead, Ifan kept on looking up at her - and his smile faded again by half.

“...It can’t be easy. Listening to all that heartbreak.” he said, voice almost a whisper.

Menphina gave no answer, nor did her expression change. She was still smiling - but Ifan got the sense it wasn’t an expression of her choosing, but one of necessity for sanity. 

Smiles better suited gods, as well, it seemed.  

Ifan nodded up at her, taking a long breath and doing his best not to feel foolish trying to offer sympathy towards one of the Twelve. “I don’t have a right to speak for everyone on Etheirys, but… thank you. For all you’ve done for me, for us. Even if it’s just listening.” he said, with pure gratitude.

The goddess let out a small breath, blinking once before her smile took on a thankful lightness - and then she floated down towards the Warrior of Light, leaned forward, and pressed an oversized but gentle kiss to the right side of his face. 

Ifan went totally still as if frozen in ice, but his face was burning ruddy bronze when her lips left his cheek. He swallowed, pouting up at her with an expression that elicited a silver laugh from her.

“You have my heartfelt gratitude in turn, my child,” she said. “Our faith in you, in all our children, has proven out. You exceeded expectations, and done what others only dreamed. That the star lives, and loves, is living proof of how our trust has been rewarded. Thus, do I have faith that you will continue to exceed your own.” ” 

Menphina gestured with her armored hand, indicating their surroundings. Not just the Phantom Realm, nor even all Eorzea, but what she and those who came before the world was sundered called ‘oikoumene’ - the habitable world, a known world to its inhabitants, but unknowable in its totality. The place where love and stories live.

Her hand then gestured at the Warrior of Light; to his scarred chest, and to the heart which still beat strongly in it.

“Follow the moonlight, Ifan,” she said her face bearing a warmth which rivaled Azeyma’s. “Fear not what you find, and go with grace.”

[helenofblackthorns]

this is your invitation to talk about all your two theories :))) thoughts on janus? the role of the princes of hell? pleaseeee feed me

thank you for this opportunity anon, as it turns out I have far more to say on this than I thought (buckle up for a massive amount of yapping)

firstly, Janus. He's an interesting character given all we know about him, but he also feels very straightforward. At this point he is being presented as an antagonist, a very central one at that, but in the scheme of things he seems very minor. He is nowhere near the same level of threat as the other antagonistic forces that we know await us in TWP, which brings his role in things into question. Normally, a tsc antagonist has some connection to the main character(s) and there is a specific reason why they become entangled (eg. Valentine is Clary's father, Mortmain created Tessa, Malcolm needed the Blackthorns to raise Annabel etc etc). Janus as a villain however has no obvious connection to any of the twp mains, and it's the total opposite when it comes to Ash despite the fact his motivations are known. He is focused around Clary, Jace, and the other tmi mains and given what we know its hard to see why he would come into conflict with Kit, Dru or Ty. There is the parallels between him and Livvy, but this doesn't seem antagonistic to me, he just represents a possible future for her (as Magnus said in gotsm, if she does not do great things, she will do terrible things).

All this is to say I think Janus is a massive red herring and not the person we should be worrying about. I think his relevance as a antagonist is going to come from his alliance to the Seelie Queen, who's motivations we know nothing about. She has been entangling herself in matters ever since she requested their audience in City of Ashes and we do not know why. It's especially obvious she's up to something when you compare her relevance in the modern timeline to the historical one, where I don't think she mentioned at all. Some of her actions are also suspicious, such as how she went out of her way to ensure Meliorn was the faerie representative. It's a plot point that gets resolved with the reveal she's working with Sebastian, but Sebastian was dead when she did it and I doubt even she would have known Lilith was going to raise him from the dead. This implies she had different plans that she then abandoned to aid Sebastian, because he could give her something she wanted; Ash. Ash clearly holds more significance to her than simply being her child as the Seelie Queen has only ever had two children, Auraline and Ash, and they were born over 200 years apart. There is clearly intention behind this, there is something that both the Unseelie King and Sebastian have in common that the Seelie Queen wants her children to have. What her plans are, we probably won't know until twp, although there may be hints in the Better in Black short story.

Like the Seelie Queen, the Princes of Hell are also likely up to something big behind the scenes. The last time we've seen from any of them was in 2010 with tlbotw; they're entirely absent from tda. This is strange as it makes tda the only series where they do not make an appearance or play a role in the story (side note I do include Lilith as a Prince of Hell even though she's technically not). Which is extremely suspicious and it's very likely that not the case, and that it'll be revealed that they have been influencing things in twp. Thule especially is something I think they're involved in, for a number of reasons. We're told the thing that altered the timeline was a powerful demon giving Lilith the strength to kill Clary, and CC said on tumblr the demon is one who is associated with Lilith in mythology. At the time (2018) CC was very mysterious, but we know enough about the PoH now to make a very educated guess that it was Sammael. Also, it's always struck me as odd that there was such a massive passing of time between Annabel & Ash coming to Thule and Emma & Julian following them. Every other time someone has gone through the portal, time has passed more or less the same and if there was discrepancy it's very minor, nowhere near the years that Ash was in Thule for. I would not be surprised if someone (Belphegor?) manipulated the portal to ensure Ash was in Thule for a certain amount of time before Emma and Julian could interfere with anything. Why the PoH would want any of this I have no idea, except poor Ash is seemingly a pawn in their plans (again) (free him for all these evil plans hasn't he been through enough?)

There is also Lucifer, who is by far the most mysterious tsc character and we know next to nothing about him. However, in the PoH art series CJ did, it does say on Belial's page that a) he claims to have convinced Lucifer to rebel and b) he is sometimes called the "father of Lucifer." A lot of the information in these arts come from preexisting Jewish & Christian mythology and can be easily googled, but that doesn't seem to be the case here. Either it's more obscure or CC made it up herself which is slightly terrifying because what does that mean. is Nate losing the title of Tessa's worst brother 137 years after his death?? ig we'll find out in 2026

[driftward]

Title: FFXIV Write 2024 - 11. Surrogate Characters: Zoissette Vauban, Y'shtola Rhul Rating: Teen Summary: An odd shaped family, but a family it is, despite missing pieces Notes: WoL|Sette timeline, sometime after Ultima Thule

There was peace, for a time, and in its joyful succor, new life.

And that new life in the Scions' orbit just now consisted of three young children. Doenstymm and Melusine were Klynt's oldest and youngest, respectively. Of an age just between the other two was Adrian, Aymeric's child, who often served as the connecting bridge between the older Doenstymm, looking after the other two, and the younger Melusine, who looked up to them both in many ways. The Scions often after looked after Adrian, serving as a family of sorts to them, bonds strengthened by their time together, the latest in a long string of favors traded back and forth ever since their time in Ishgard.

While their parents did not force them together, they often found themselves together nevertheless, looking after one another, protecting one another, and, of course, antagonizing one another in the matter that siblings tended to.

And what an odd family they were a part of. Doenstymm and Melusine shared a mother, but had different fathers, and Adrian with a father, but no mother to speak of at all. And the Scions themselves were an odd group, serving as aunts and uncles and cousins, making sure the children always had an adult nearby they could rely upon.

Zoissette stood back with the other Scions, a faint smile on her face. She had just gotten done retelling the stories of the Doman Adventurer's Guild to the three young children, and now they were excited to have adventures of their own. Before they were allowed off, however, Y'shtola was not so much lecturing as she was teaching them. Lessons were interspersed with brief anecdotes they each found amusing, and she asked questions of them to keep them engaged. Once satisfied, she let them go, and the three ran off, arguing about whether to mimic those adventures or try to have some of their own.

"You two are awfully good with children," said Alisaie to Y'shtola and Zoissette.

"Tis no small matter to instruct them for their own safety, but I believe they now know enough to make their mistakes their own. Such shall allow me later to confidently tell them that I did indeed 'told them so'," said Y'shtola with false primness, coming to stand up on her tip toes and give Zoissette a kiss before standing at her side.

"What a group of adorable ragamuffins," said Alisaie fondly, watching as the three found Alphinaud in the markets and begin to swarm around him, pestering him with questions as he twisted around and laughed, trying gamely to answer them and keep an eye on all three of them.

"What is that I hear in your voice? Considering motherhood?" asked Krile mischievously, looking up at Alisaie with a grin.

Heavens, no," replied Alisaie. "I think I shall leave continuing the family name to Alphinaud. I think he has more the temperament for it."

"Does he?" replied Krile, watching as Doenstymm started scaling up Alphinaud like he was an ambulatory tree. "Perhaps if he learns to not let himself be bullied by children."

Alphinaud was still laughing, even as he tried to fend off the other two while wilting under Doenstymm's robust Roegadyn weight.

"I'm not quite certain he even knows he -is- being bullied," said Alisaie. She glanced over to see that the smile on Zoissette's face had not faded, only softened, as Y'shtola intwined their arms and leaned against her.

"And what of our Warrior of Light and her paramour?" asked Alisaie. "You two ever consider following Klynt's example?"

Zoissette looked over at Y'shtola, then down at the ground.

"I do not think I would make a very good mother," she said.

"Oh, come now, you're good at just about everything else."

"So was my mother," said Zoissette, her voice quiet.

Krile and Alisaie exchanged looks.

"Oh, I am sorry!" said Zoissette brightly, turning to Alisaie. "I did not mean to bring down the mood. It is just, that, well."

She stopped, and Y'shtola stepped in gamely. "As for mine own perspective, I would mislike to follow in Matoya's footsteps. I love her as my own mother, but, well, you have met her. I do not regret my childhood, but I am not sure I would wish to put another through that self-same experience. That I was well suited to the circumstances under which I was raised was fortuitous."

"Well, not that I wish to influence you one way or another," said Krile. "But while it is traditional for the student to follow in the footsteps of her master, I believe it is also celebrated when their path carries beyond that set for them. I think you would make a wonderful mother."

"Perhaps," said Y'shtola, looking up at Zoissette, who was now distracted, watching the children.

"And as for you, I should think you've got the chance to do a fair bit of good yourself," said Krile to Zoissette, her tone gentle. "I've seen the way you and Y'shtola take turns with the children. How you teach them, how you so obviously care for them. And you're both wise enough to lean on us as necessary. I don't know your history, but I feel you've got a good chance to do a fair sight better than most parents, if you took the chance."

"A chance is not worth the risk," replied Zoissette, so quietly as to almost unable to be heard.

It was many bells later, after the children had been put to bed. Zoissette lounged on her back on a couch where she could see the door to the children's room, Y'shtola laying on top of her, her head on her chest.

"Adrian is a good child," said Y'shtola. "They all are."

"And Aymeric an excellent father," said Zoissette, slowly and gently running a hand up and down Y'shtola's back.

"Mayhap we could be, as well."

"Aymeric is a good father, for good reasons," said Zoissette. "You remember what he said, when I asked him why he wanted to be a father."

"To raise a child in the new Ishgard, free of the fetters of the old. To watch as that child became, grew up, full of the potential of that newness. Whatever path the child chose, it would be of their own choosing, and Aymeric wished to witness that, and support that. Of course I well remember. It was very well spoken, as usual, but also... well. Sentimental, but inspirational. I full felt a joy at the idea."

Zoissette nodded.

"Good motives. Noble motives. He will do fine. If I were to step in to such a role, however... Shtola. I would just be trying to not be my mother. That is no way to raise a child. They deserve more than to be something to someone trying to ... make up for their own hurts."

"I have similar fears," murmured Y'shtola into Zoissette. "But Krile has the right of it. We have all the Scions with us, to share wisdom, to share effort. 'Twould not be a lonely endeavor, but a shared one, and how much richer we might all be for it."

"Aymeric can also afford to be present for his child nearly all of the time. We are absent a lot, Y'shtola, you know that."

"Yet Klynt manages."

"Klynt... Klynt has an intuition for how these sort of things will go that I lack, a gregarious nature, several fathers who see each other kindly and help share the burdens of parentage, and a spirit that allows her to be and share a freedom I lack," said Zoissette. "I do not know how she manages it, to be honest. I am not sure I could."

Y'shtola sighed into Zoissette.

"A risk not worth the chance," she said. "But is that risk not already present? We could try, you know. You could step forward. I would be with you. You know this."

"I know," said Zoissette, wrapping her other arm around Y'shtola, and giving her a hug. "But I cannot bring myself to believe it would be the right thing. Not while I still harbor this anger against Elspeth. Against my own mother. Not while I... they deserve better."

Y'shtola nodded. "Well. The children are well loved, anyroad. Perhaps it does not matter. And perhaps you are right. I too am worried that in practice I would be little better than my own Matoya."

Zoissette relaxed under Y'shtola.

"We might sleep in our own bed," suggested Y'shtola.

"Maybe," said Zoissette.

Neither moved, both keeping on eye on the children's door, even as Zoissette reached and pulled a blanket over them both, even as they both fell asleep.

[dawnslight-aegis]

2. horizon

Aymeric woke in the early morning hours to his bed empty and the smell of crisp, snowy mountain air overpowering the typical wood-and-fire scent of his bedchamber. With a sigh, he dragged himself from the still-warm sheets, snagged a dressing gown, and padded to the door of his balcony.

His wife was exactly where he expected to find her: perched on the stone railing, staring out at the western horizon, mug of steaming spiced tea in her hands her only ward against the cold. Melancholy seeped into his bones at the sight – he had known Kaede long enough, loved her long enough, to know exactly what her faraway expression heralded. Perhaps not today, but soon, she would be leaving again, her wanderer’s heart calling her out to the unseen distance.

Closing the balcony door quietly behind him, he crossed the distance between them, looped his arms loosely around Kaede’s torso, and was rewarded with her leaning into him without even a twitch of surprise. She was gloriously warm in his arms, as if she had been sitting by the fire, not outside in the cold Coerthan air wearing naught more than one of his shirts, and her lack of reaction to his presence told him clearly that she had heard him approach, as she normally did. Indeed, he could tell absolutely no difference in the woman in his arms now from the one who departed to Ultima Thule, the last of the lingering damage truly healed. There was no need to worry.

Not any more than he ever did, at any rate.

Pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, he murmured, “When do you leave?”

Thankfully, she did not waste either of their time dissembling or playing the fool – instead, he felt her sigh in acknowledgement. “A ship leaves from Sharlayan to Tural tomorrow. Shtola and G’raha are going, as well as all the the Turali who had their artifacts stolen. They’ve asked me to play escort. I was thinking of accepting.” Her tone was almost a question, as if unsure of his reaction.

This would be her first true journey after becoming his wife. Brief sojourns into the Void aside – and wasn’t that a ridiculous thought, that her venturing through time and space to save the world once again barely even registered to him – he had had her in his arms most nights for well over half a year, the longest span that fate had ever afforded them. But as the days grew longer and warmer, he could practically feel her restlessness building, tense and coiled beneath her skin. Taking up the viper’s arts had dispelled some of that pent-up energy, but he'd known it wouldn't last. To say that the thought of her leaving didn’t make his heart ache would be a lie, but she was who she was, and he would not have asked her to be anyone else.

Brow furrowed in mild frustration, he shifted until he could look her in the eye. “Kaede. I knew full well that a ring and a ceremony would not change your nature.”

Blue eyes flicked down to her tea, and then back to the horizon as she took another sip. Her voice was soft when she spoke again: “At times, I wish it had.”

“Well, I do not. If I wish anything, it is that I had the freedom to accompany you – I would not bind you to Ishgard merely because I am.”

Truly, the thing that galled him the most was the fact that out of everyone he loved, only he was expected to remain in one place, the solid stone around which the winds twisted as they wound their own paths through the sky. Kaede, Estinien, hells, even the normally ever-present Lucia – they cast themselves out into the world as they would, while at times it seemed he had to barter like a Lominsan fishwife for every moment of time he spent outside the city's gates.

Leaning fully against him again, Kaede tilted her head back to smile at him, her face a mixture of gratitude and apology. “No chance of you coming with me, I suppose? To… establish diplomatic relationships with another nation? It should just be a quick visit. Perhaps a moon or two.”

Thinking back to the pile of work and multiple nearly democracy-ending problems he’d come back to after their honeymoon that spring, Aymeric grimaced and shook his head. “I’m afraid not. As much as I would prefer it to be otherwise. And only you, my dear, would call crossing an ocean to explore an entirely separate continent ‘quick.’”

“Well, once I’ve seen Tentoawa and Loazenikwe back to their village, perhaps checked in on Marz and Estinien and the twins, I imagine I’ll be headed right back. Unless there’s some horrible world-ending crisis going on over there that I’m yet unaware of,” she said with a grin, but it faded as she took in the vaguely horrified expression on his face.

“My lady, with the life you lead, I dearly wish you would not tempt fate this way.”

Kaede put her teacup on the railing beside her, then turned to face him and twine her arms around his neck, drawing him down to her. “You’re right, as always. Forgive me. I can’t imagine you want to spend the morning standing around into the cold, anyway.”

Breath mingling in the space between them, Aymeric allowed a wolfish grin to come over his face as he cast a long, considering look down at the ample view of her cleavage that such an angle – and lack of proper dress – afforded him. “You’re right, as always,” he echoed back at her, and drank in the sight of her answering smile like a flower basking in summer sunlight, that it might live on through the cold dark winter. “Shall we go back to bed? Perhaps I cannot steal away to another land for a moon or more, but a leisurely morning should be well within my power. And I would not have you leave me without ample reminders of what you shall be missing.”

Lean-muscled legs curled around his hips as Kaede’s mouth found his, her attention finally, fully his, at least for the moment. For the brief span of a heartbeat, drunk on the heat and closeness of her, he thought of simply staying here, rather than lose even the fraction of time with her that it would take to get back inside, but then a rogue gust of wind made his breath catch in his throat and skin shiver. He felt, rather than heard, Kaede’s chuckle, and then nearly groaned at the loss of her warmth as she disentangled herself from his arms and hopped down from the railing, sashaying back into their bedroom with an exaggerated sway of her hips, solely for his benefit.

For one more moment he watched her, the dawn’s light catching on her scales and hair, as he committed the sight of her to memory once again, as he had dozens of times and would, Fury willing, do many, many more times to come. As soon as she disappeared inside he followed her, leaving naught but the abandoned teacup to witness the waking of his city, as the sun broke fully over her horizon.

[margareturtle]

A moment of silence for the Underrated Tragic Shadowhunter Couples 😭

MARISOL AND JON (WHY MALCOLM WHAT DID HIMBO JON EVER DO TO YOU 😭)

THULE!LIVVY AND CAMERON (AFTER ALL THULE!LIVVY HAS BEEN THROUGH YOU COULDN’T EVEN LET HER KEEP CAM???CASSIE WHYYYY😭😭)—also unrelated but I’ve been rereading red queen and farley and shade remind me sm of thule livvy and cam and it ends the same way for both of them and I’m just sad 😔

BARBARA AND OLIVER (LOOK I UNDERSTAND WE LOST A LIGHTWOOD PER SERIES BUT 1) WHAT’S WITH BREAKING THE STATUS QUO?? COULD’VE BEEN BARBARA OR CHRISTOPHER BUT NOT BOTH!!! 2) BARBARA AND OLIVER WERE CUTE AND THOMAS DESERVES BOTH OF THIS SIBLINGS BACK!!!😭😭)

LADY NERISSA AND ANDREW (LOOK ANDREW SEEMS LIKE A SHITTY BROTHER AND FATHER BUT HE DID LOVE NERISSA AND SHE LOVED HIM FOR YEARS BUT THEN SHE HAD TO MAKE HIM FORGET AND MAKE IT SO HER CHILDREN ALWAYS THOUGHT OF HER AS EVIL 😭😭)

[julescarstairs]

An Ash Morgenstern Ramble: Brought To You By Me.

As of late I’ve been really pondering Ash Morgenstern’s character and why it is that his character seems so unpredictable. Don’t get me wrong, I love how complex his character seems — and, inevitably, how complex his character is going to be — but I kept thinking, surely there has to be a method to his madness, right? No, he isn’t just jumping ships Willy-nilly for the hell of it.

My theory is, and it’s going to sound really obvious, but hear me out: Ash Morgenstern does what will best benefit him, and him alone.

He is a strategist at heart, having learnt from some of the most malevolent, dagger-sharp minds of his family. Whilst it doesn’t look like it at first, Ash has ulterior motives for everything he does. Why did he kill Thule!Sebastian to save Emma from imminent danger? Because he had spent enough time in Thule to know it was a dying land. We can see in many scenes in QOAAD that he has a clear disdain for both his father and his ways of life, so naturally he would want out asap — if that means killing his Father to hitch a ride home, then so be it.

Another example is Ash’s bizarre relationship with Janus. We know that J-man is quite possibly the most significant father figure Ash has had in his life, but we also know that Ash is tired of being a bird in a cage, so to speak. Janus is keeping him in this cage as per the Queen’s orders. So, whilst Ash seems to be fully onboard with Janus’s intent to, you know, destroy the nephilim race as we know it — and continually denies any emotional attachment to Dru in the process (which nobody actually believes, by the way) — I’m frankly not sure that this is something Ash, himself, wants. I mean, his desire to see the fall of the nephilim in the normal world directly contrasts with his obvious disdain and boredom in Thule.

I think Ash is agreeing with his plans purely to please him. To build trust, even. If Ash can convince Janus that he is loyal and trustworthy enough, Janus might give him what he wants: freedom. He wants to see the world beyond Faerie. He wants to see the mortal realms. He wants to be where the people are (okay, Ariel.) He wants to see Drusilla again. Playing into Janus’s hand will give him that, though it may take a long time.

And honestly, I think Ash doing what will best benefit him at this point in time makes complete sense, because really, who has ever looked out for him? Who has ever considered what he wanted? The Seelie Queen probably only wanted him back because she was his to keep. Both the Unseelie King and Thule!Sebastian wanted to make him into a Weapon in two different ways — and, well, whilst Janus only wants to protect him, he obviously wants him to have a hand in bringing harm to the nephilim, which requires him to have him locked away from everyone. The only people who ever wanted to look out for Ash and what he wanted were compelled to do so by the enchantments put upon him.

Ash has to look after himself, because otherwise no one will — and when Dru comes into his life, protecting her will become a part of protecting him.

[kootiepatra]

#FFxivWrite2024 - Day 22 (free day): Secret

[This is something of an addendum to "Words Finally Spoken"]

Keimwyda’s head was spinning in the best of ways. Sure, some of that was from the pain. Some if it was probably from the medicine she was on to relieve said pain. But the foremost reason—and the only one she cared about at the moment—was that she and Aymeric were now officially a couple. Well, official between the two of them, at least. There were some arrangements to be made in Ishgard to be able to be so publicly.

It had been foolish to teleport to Ishgard to see him. She knew this. Having just returned from the Scions’ victory in Ultima Thule, she was an exhausted, battered mess, with dangerously depleted aether. She really should have been in bed. Traveling at all was a terrible idea. Traveling through the Lifestream was a worse one. Things could have gone very, very badly before she ever even made it to the Congregation.

But things didn’t go badly. And she got to say what she wanted to say, only to find out that Aymeric had been wanting to say something similar for even longer. And she was incandescently happy.

And now she was back at her quarters in the Rising Stones, propped up in bed, her wounds freshly tended to, trying to actually rest. Aymeric had just left, called back to Ishgard by the demands of duty. Miraculously, their secret was still pretty much safe. None of the Scions even knew she had gone except for F’lhaminn, who had helped cover for her. Well, her and…

A knock sounded at the door, sounding a bit too firm to be F’lhaminn.

“...Come in?” Keimwyda called, wincing slightly as pain shot through her ribs with the effort.

It was Estinien.

Ah. She thought. Of course. …Oh no.

He scanned the room quickly. “You’re alone. Good.” 

“…yyyyes?”

“Before you say anything else: Aymeric told me all. Or at least the important parts.”

Keimwyda felt her face reddening. “Oh.” 

Estinien folded his arms. “…That was quite the reckless thing you did, Warrior of Light.”

“It may spare you some trouble to know that F’lhaminn has already given me an earful about it,” she replied dryly.

“Hah,” he smirked. “As she should. But no, that is not what I wished to say. …After all, it was high time somebody gave that man a push.”

She was not sure whether to feel relieved or even more embarrassed. “Oh. So he told you everything.”

He looked at her incredulously. “...What else did you imagine ‘the important parts’ to entail?”

“Was it so very wrong for me to hope for some plausible deniability?”

He snorted. “There would be nothing ‘plausible’ about it. You walked, or should I say limped, into the Rising Stones this morning on his arm. You two are fortunate there were not more of us around to see it.”

“...F’lhaminn may have had something to do with that.”

A light dawned on Estinien’s face. “Ah. I wondered why she was so urgently suggesting I go take a morning to myself at the hot springs.”

“That would be why, yes,” Keimwyda acknowledged. “But, pray—I hate to ask this of you, but I must beg you for your assistance in keeping this quiet. Just for the moment, just until Aymeric arranges things in Ishgard.”

He chortled again. “As if you need ask. I am not in the habit of blathering about others’ affairs to all and sundry.” 

Keimwyda could tell there was an unspoken implication of “…unlike some people” behind his words. But she could not quite place which Scion he had in mind. Maybe more than one of them.

In the pause that followed, Estinien’s face grew stern. “But I wish to be serious with you for a moment,” he said.

Here we go, Keimwyda thought. She had no idea what he might think of her and Aymeric’s arrangement. She was nervous. But she nodded anyway.

“Aymeric is my oldest friend. We have been through thick and thin together. I daresay I know him better than most, and I have tremendous respect for him. He has my unyielding support, not just as my commander—former commander, pardon me—but as my friend.”

“I understand,” she said quietly, “and I do not take that lightly…”

He kept going. “And as such, I am compelled to say to you… if you ever require someone to knock some sense into him, you know who to call on. My lance is yours.”

She burst out laughing, and then grabbed her side in pain. “Ow,” she grimaced.

“Sorry.”

“So…” she asked hopefully, once she caught her breath. “You approve, then?”

“Approve? You hardly need my approval. But aye, I do think you deserve one another. And that is the highest compliment I could bestow.”

[elliewiltarwyn]

FFXIV Write 2024 | #20: Duel

Word Count: 702

(again, no gpose, been too sick to log in. was almost too sick to write tbh, glad i managed to get this out lol)

-------------------------------------------------------

Fourth Astral Moon, 13th Sun, 06 7AE

I just got beat up by Gulool Ja Ja. That’s not nearly as bad as it sounds.

We were just taking our leisure after Wuk Lamat’s initial trials when a Landsguard arrived at our cabins to tell us the Dawnservant wished to summon me—me specifically—to the Sunperch. He also said we were not to speak of this to Wuk Lamat, which struck me as odd at the time but makes sense now.

And he didn’t waste any time once I had arrived: he drew his enormous swords from the side of his throne and challenged me to single combat, as he apparently had with Estinien and just seems to enjoy doing in general. There was no malice in his gaze and no sense of mockery, just a strange wistfulness and a wish to make a connection.

It wasn’t entirely dissimilar from the look Zenos gave me - the one that has haunted me for over a year now. But what haunted me then felt strangely soothing now, even as it provoked the same eager sensations within myself that Zenos did in Ultima Thule, and that…can’t be wholly attributable to its source. Because I’m the common denominator here.

A warrior looked at me and wished to test their strength against mine in the hopes of making a bond that can’t be forged any other way. I think…what bothered me when it was Zenos was because he was the only one who had. It unsettled me too much because no one else had attempted to bond with me like that, and led me to believe I perhaps shared more with him than I actually did - enough to sever my pact with my avatar. (…or try to, at least. Thank gods she’s getting along with Mia now.)

To have the Dawnservant of Tuliyollal, one (two?) of the most honorable men to have ever lived who peacefully united disparate cultures and peoples under one banner more successfully than possibly anyone in history, also express this desire… I think it makes me feel better about having this quality within myself. This drive to seek adventure, challenging myself, pushing my limits until they break, dancing close to the precipice…for their own sake. Searching for such pleasures for no other reason, as an adventurer…just as Zenos noted. As terrible as Zenos was…that doesn’t mean he couldn’t share such qualities with myself or even people like the Dawnservant.

So when Gulool Ja Ja challenged me - “Are you warrior enough to stand against me?” - I couldn’t help but smirk and say “Why don’t we find out?” and drew my own viper blades without hesitation, eager to throw myself into the fray.

I say that he beat me up, but I suppose that’s actually not giving myself enough credit. Despite how relatively new I am to the discipline, the soul crystal provided and I stood toe-to-toe with one of the strongest warriors I’ve ever met. Sure, every bone and muscle was screaming in pain when we were done and Wuk Lamat basically had to carry me back to the cabins afterwards (while expressing her extreme exasperation at her father because he keeps doing shite like this and it’s extra frustrating when it’s people she knows), but he seemed just as tuckered out—and extremely satisfied with my performance.

There was more, of course: he had wanted to judge my strength, see if I was fit to attend his beloved daughter. I feel relieved that I apparently passed that test with flying colors, because I don’t want to know what he would do to me if I hadn’t… But it certainly means something to have the Dawnservant trust me with guiding one of his heirs, to hopefully guide her along the same path that he walked.

…Having told this to Mia and Lily after returning to our cabin, they both gave me a knowing smirk and Lily started whistling innocently. She’s right, of course, and has been all along - Wuk Lamat is my protégé, and there’s no use pretending otherwise at this juncture. At least her father trusts me to do so…and determined that with an unexpectedly effective method.

[paintedscales]

By contrast, what was the moment that first made their ~heart~ Soft for the other person? Not necessarily a conscious realization of “I love this person,” but a moment that had them like “Oh...I adore them...”

Good evening, Vasheden! Thank you so much for the ask. I don't think this one comes from a prompt list, which thank you! I really appreciate the interest! ; w ; /

I wanted to answer something that's been sitting in my inbox for a while at this point before I went to bed tonight. :'D This one has been on my radar for a while.

So...in my writings that I've been off and on working on, it was Estinien who got smitten first. After everything, and after their time meeting and understanding that they both buried the hatchet on the Steppe, it was Ghimlyt Dark for him. The way I have it framed in one of the drabbles I wrote is that he found Nomin having collapsed due to the Exarch's meddling at an inopportune time, and when he went to defend and whisk her from the battlefield, he was just...

Hm...

He understood that, as the Warrior of Light, losing her would have been detrimental to everyone. But as he was bringing her back to safety, he started having other thoughts. Like what if it wasn't just because she's the Warrior of Light? I'm saving someone who has just as much experience as I do, and can relate to the same things that I do... There was kinship on the Steppe, and then I think Ghimlyt and being so close to losing her in that moment was just that little click for him that was just, "oh...I don't want to lose her because I'll lose someone who understands me better than anyone else."

From there, for him, it just starts to grow. Not that he ever speaks up on it. I think Aymeric probably picked up on it when Estinien brought Nomin to him, though. Maybe. Not sure yet. I haven't really explored how I want to go about that.

As for Nomin...

It was while she was on the First. After remembering what little fragments and moments of delirium in Estinien's hold during Ghimlyt, and also being told that she was rushed into Aymeric's care thanks to him, Estinien lived in her head rent free.

Much like how I imagine Estinien, Nomin has also experienced the fact that she did reconcile and come to understandings enough with Estinien on the Steppe that it felt apt to call him a decent enough friend. It was a lot of dancing around similar trauma bonding, but bonding nonetheless.

On the First, she thought of him, she thought of him so much. Remembering being held by him and feeling grateful that he rescued her from getting killed by Elidibus. So when she came back from the First and she met with him again, just seeing him triggered that happy response. That tail flick. When that happened, she realized, "oh...oh... I actually do want to be with him. I want him at my side as much as I want to be at his."

And that was fun (not)! Because Nomin didn't actually know what to do with those emotions. I don't think Estinien did, either. So...I think both of them just shelved those emotions for later. Fast forward to Endwalker before traveling to Ultima Thule where they both confess to one another. :p

[e-dragoons]

“I like your hair like this.”

Lehna’s gaze went from her face, where she had just smeared some lotion across her cheeks, and met Estinien’s eyes in the mirror. “What do you mean?”

His expression was thoughtful as he reached out and twirled a finger around a lock of her hair, climbing up slowly to her scalp as he did so. The closer he got to her scalp, the more it sent shivers down her spine. 

“Long,” he said after a moment. “When you leave it down.”

In the time they had known each other, Lehna had gone through so many different hairstyles. It had been long when they had first met, though not nearly as long as it was now. Between how busy they had all been since returning from the First and the injuries she had sustained in Ultima Thule knocking her out for several weeks… It was one of those things she had not really considered, falling to the wayside as more important things became pressing matters they needed to take care of.

Only now during the long, warm nights spent in Thavnair–and only after Estinien had pointed it out–had she realized just how long it had gotten. 

It flowed down in long, beachy waves down the entirety of her back–the only part she had trimmed regularly was her bangs, so they did not get in the way of her daily life. More often than not, her hair was thrown up with a ribbon to get it out of her way–something Estinien did with his own hair, too.

But when she looked in the mirror back to herself, all she saw was the weariness that filled her aching bones–enough of it to spread to her dull eyes, her knotted hair. She still required the assistance of a brace to walk, the injuries to her knees taking so long to heal that the healers warned her that she may not ever fully recover. 

She tried not to think about that part.

“I am glad you like it,” she said after a moment, tearing her eyes away from her reflection. Lehna had never been a vain person–at least she did not think so–but seeing herself now just filled her with an overwhelming sense of disgust. It was not her.

As Lehna swept across the room to their bed, Estinien followed not far behind. His hand rested on her lower back–a supportive gesture he had grown quite fond of after her first few stumbles with trying to walk after their return. It was not a gesture she minded–no one had ever comforted her the way Estinien tried to.

She sat down on the bed and winced as the familiar pain jolted through her. That, at least, was meant to be temporary.

Estinien slid into the bed next to her, pulling the thin sheet over both of them. Radz-at-Han was simply too hot for much more than that.

“I have always liked your hair,” Estinien said after a long silence. 

“Is that so?” A smile played at her lips, though it was not genuine–and sure enough, Estinien gave her a knowing look.

“It is,” he said.

Lehna tried hard to think of a time Estinien had given her a physical compliment that was not about her form or how strong she was. She could not think of one. “Well, thank you I suppose.”

“You…” He hesitated, stumbling over his words for a moment. “You truly are beautiful. You know that, right?”

She did–she was no fool. Even before she became the Warrior of Light, it was a rarity for her to leave the bar alone at night. She took excellent care of her skin when she was able to do so. Her eyes were a jeweled tourmaline unique to her Keeper clan that made people curious–one of the only things she would ever think about thanking her father for. 

And yet to hear Estinien say it… Her cheeks warmed, tinging a shade darker. “Thank you,” she repeated, this time her voice soft and gentle. Vulnerable.

But with Estinien, that was alright. She snaked her arms around his torso as he placed his own hand on the small of her back again, his other positioned so he could run his fingers through the fringes of her hair that fell across his chest as Lehna placed her head there. Eyes closed, she took in a breath of him–a musky aroma with the faintest hint of spice. Her shoulders relaxed and she allowed herself to sink into his side. 

Her own hand wandered across his chest–across scars of all shapes and sizes, the bumps on his shoulder from where Nidhogg’s eye had fused with him feeling much like the scars of a burn. Estinien used to suck in a breath and flinch away from her touch in surprise when she did that–but no longer. Now, he brushed his lips across the top of her head, pressing his nose into her hair. 

“I mean the scars too, you know,” he said. “The ones I can see and the ones I cannot.”

Tears stung at the corners of her eyes at that, but she dare not move–the last thing she wanted was for Estinien to see her cry, even if he had already seen her at her worst so many times before. 

She clung to him as she let out a small sniffle, and in turn he pulled her in tighter. “Get some rest, mon chaton.”

As Lehna allowed herself to drift off to sleep, she laced her fingers through Estinien’s. Her knight.