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teawithaphd · 2 years

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Kuporella

FFXIV

(unnamed) WOL x Crystal Exarch

f/m

The Warrior of Darkness passes out and has a dream where she’s referred to as “Kuporella”. Strange events follow, and even stranger feelings for a certain Exarch follow suit.

AO3

The Warrior of Darkness stumbles into the Crystarium, covered head to toe in blood and gore. Whether any of it is her own is a question she’d ask herself later, but right now, there was but a single thought occupying her mind—move. On its own, her body makes it’s way towards the Dossal Gate. Before she can register where it had wanted to go, she collapses right before the large doors. The last thing she hears is the gate keeper calling out to her in a frightened tone before her consciousness fades to black.

---------

“—ke up”

She stirs, too tired to give any response.

“Hey, if your step sisters, or gods forbid, your step mother catches you dozing off like this, you’ll have hells to pay.”

One of her ears twitch to the voice, sounding louder this time.

“...what?”

The Warrior rouses from her short, dreamless slumber. She slowly sits up from her position on the floor (floor?), lifting her hand to stifle a long yawn before regarding the brown, scruffy rat tapping its hand on the floor beside her.

“It’s about time you’ve awoke. Now quickly, finish mopping before they come back from their outing!”

That voice...is that..?

“...Ard...bert..?”

“Gods, woman, aren’t you going to get up? You left your mop there. Should still be good to clean with.”

Instead of bombarding him with the flurry of questions in her mind, not including ‘why are you a rat?’, she huffs as she stands. After quickly grabbing the mop from across the room, she begins using it to clean that area, assuming that’s where she last left off.

A few bells pass by as she gets to work. Dusting the shelves in what seems to be this house’s study, organizing the books, and tidying up the trinkets on the ornate desk at the center of the room. As she finishes up, she hears the click of a door, followed by quiet chatter and oddly familiar bobbing sounds.

“Oh Kuporella~ You better have finished cleaning the house, kupo.”

“You don’t want to upset MogMa again, now do you, kupo.”

“These floors better be as clean as my coat, kupo.”

The Warrior of Darkness whips her head around the room, frantically looking for her furry friend who had just been on the desk watching her clean. Damn, this was easier when he was monster of a Hyur lugging around that giant, bloodied axe!

Before she can yell out for him, the door to the study opens. A large moogle floats in, it’s bobble a shiny yellow, reflecting the dim light of the room.

“Ah, there you are Kuporella. Now let’s see how you did here, kupo.” It hovers around the room, inspecting every nook and corner. The Keeper silently watches, feeling utterly dumbfounded at the whole situation, as the Moogle runs its paw along the top of the fireplace, then to its own face to scrutinize the contents.

“Hmph, you could have been better, but this will do for now, kupo.”

Giggles echo from the hallway, revealing themselves to be two younger moogles as they float into the room. The plumper of the pair looks up and down the Keeper’s figure before muttering something to the other, both giggling yet again.

“Your rags look worse than Malboro’s breath, kupo!”

In a synchronized fashion, they both pinch their small noses.

“And smell worse than it, too.”

She looks down at herself, now noticing the gear she was wearing before replaced with the rags of a simple tunic. Stains cover the fabric, old and new. She doesn’t bother to check her scent, knowing the smell of cleaning chemicals not exactly being the most pleasant of smells to most. She crosses her arms over her front, suddenly feeling naked.

“Settle down, kupo!” The two mischievous creatures quiet, turning their attention to the authoritative figure.

“You must be getting ready, for we cannot be late to the Crystarium’s ball, now can we, kupo?”

The two bob and clap their paws in excitement before floating out of the room, talking excitedly to each other on the way out. The Warrior brings a hand to her chin in thought, quietly humming to herself before regarding the large moogle before her.

“Ball? That sounds fun.”

The moogle frowns. “Oh, be not mistaken, Kuporella, for you cannot go to the ball. You are to be very very busy cleaning this house, kupo.”

“But, didn’t I just clean it?”

“Well yes, but uhm—y-you forgot to pick up the kupo nuts all over the floor of the living room!”

“Kupo nuts?”

The moogle zips out of the room before the Keeper can ask further. She hears the sound of a bag being emptied, followed by various pebbles hitting the ground. The moogle zips back, wheezing as it leans its weight on the door. “…There, you’ll see it once you come out, kupo. Now, your stepsisters and I shall be heading to that ball in but a moment. I better not see a single nut when we come back, or you’ll have my bobble, kupo!”

It hovers out the room again, not to come back for the rest of the night. The Keeper waits until she hears the lock click at the front door. She releases an exasperated sigh as she slumps to the floor.

“Nasty little ones, aren’t they?”

“There you are—wait, where did you even come from!?”

Ardbert hops down from the vent, making his way through various furniture before perching himself on her shoulder.

“Do not fret, Warrior of Cleaning. If you put your mind to it, you can pick up those nuts in no time.”

“Seriously?”

He gives a small stoic nod. He looks so utterly cute in this form, but he’d sooner want to die than hear that…

“Aye, we’ll get you to that ball.”

She could almost see him looking back and smiling at her, sending her a sudden feeling of melancholy. Not wanting to dwell on it, she quickly stands, wiggling her ears to perk herself up.

“Alright, let’s start then!”

With Ardbert still perched on her shoulder, she heads to the living room, looking less like a living room and more like an entertainment space made for 20. Who the hells needs a house this big?

Careful not to trip on any of the bounds of Kupo Nuts littering the floor, she tip toes from the living room to the kitchen, grabbing the large empty bag on the counter that her stepmother most likely poured the nuts from, and begins picking nuts from the floor there. Ardbert hops off her shoulder and also starts skittering about and picking up nuts with both hands. The Keeper feels a bit of pity for him watching him struggle to pick up one at a time and bring it to the bag as she simply grabs hand fulls and shoves it. She still appreciates his help, nonetheless.

---------

They quietly spend the afternoon picking nuts off the ground. They’ve gotten to about half of them when Ardbert speaks up.

“You do know what this ball’s about, right?”

She stands and shuffles to the nut-covered area closer to him before coming down to a squat to meet her furry friend’s eyes.

“…Not at all.”

“...didn’t think you would.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He scoffs at her comment before continuing, “Any road, the Crystarium is holding this ball so that the Exarch may find a suitable candidate for his hand in marriage.”

“Oh, the Exarch—“

As realization hits her, she drops the bag, gawping at the man-turned-rat before her.

“W-wait, MARRIAGE?!”

Ardbert gives a hardy laugh as she frantically scrambles to keep their whole afternoon of hard work from falling back onto the floor.

“You mean you haven’t heard? That the Exarch is looking for a bride?”

She feels a blush creep to her face at the thought. Him getting married? That’s ridiculous.

She imagines the sight of him at a chapel, awaiting his bride to be as she walks down the isle, a blur obstructing the view of her face. His eyes twinkle as she finally reaches him. They join hands, listening intently as the preacher gives his piece. They say their vows, before the preacher mutters a last few words. They then move closer to one another, inch their faces closer and closer....until they—

“Hey, snap out of it!”

She shakes herself out of her daunting daydream. After taking a deep breath, she slaps her face to get a grip. With a sudden determined energy, she speedily finishes picking up the nuts.

---------

With the deed is finally done, she looks out the window, the sun displaying a beautiful set of blues and pinks in the sky. Now being able to see the wood underneath the house’s spotless floors, the Keeper huffs a breath of relief.

“Well, that should be the last of ‘em.”

Ardbert gives her a final nod and wave of his paw. “You should get to heading out now. Safe travels, friend.”

She gives him a warm smile before walking out the door.

A whiff of fresh air hits her as she observes her surroundings. Setting her eyes on the familiar spire in the distance, she runs towards it. She travels several malms, the sky now having gone dark as a testament to how long she’s been out. Before she can turn towards the clearer path in the distance, a familiar voice rings in her ears, stopping her in her tracks.

“Stop right there, my little sapling!”

The fae flies and twirls around her.

“...Feo Ul..?”

She stops inches from her face, boldly standing in the air with her hands on her hips. “You are not thinking of going to the ball in that, are you? Well fear not, my adorable little sapling, your dearest [faerie god mother] shall fix you right up!”

She whirls around the Warrior once more. With a snap of her fingers, a cloud of aether obstructs her vision for a moment.

As it clears she looks down at herself, noticing her once ash-covered rags having transformed into a beautiful, black and red gown, accented with gold. She smooths it down, taking a moment to admire the details; from the slim fit that accentuates her figure and flares out with delicate ruffles as it reaches her lower legs, to the intricate jewels and fae wing details adorning her front. She looks down at her feet, now wearing beautiful slippers made of crystal.

It’s much too gaudy, but gods, is it gorgeous!

“My, you look absolutely breath-taking! Now you’re ready to see your Exarch! Oh, and lest I forget!”

She snaps her fingers again, revealing a porxie-drawn carriage, similar in gold details as her dress. The Warrior gravitates to the carriage, enamored by the splendor of it all. Catching herself out of her daze, she turns her head to the fae.

“Uh—thank you, Feo—I mean, Faerie God Mother.”

“Wait just one minute!” She puts a hand up, stopping the Warrior from hopping into the carriage.

“Before you go, remember this: this magic will not last long. At the twelfth bell, it will wear off and reveal your raggedy attire from before. You must leave the ball ere then, understood?”

She nods before climbing aboard the mount. The porxies snort, then begin trotting along as Feo Ul waves at her, watching the carriage as it leaves towards the Crystarium.

Inside, the Warrior leans forward to look out at forests rolling by, watching as the greenery transitions to more familiar lavender leaves. Getting lost in her daze, she doesn’t notice the vehicle come to a halt until her body abruptly juts forward. A pair of footsteps come to the front and open the door, revealing another familiar face—the gatekeeper.

“Welcome, please allow me to escort you to the main event room.”

He holds out a hand to assist her out of the carriage, to which she mindlessly accepts.

“Please, follow me.”

She holds up her skirts to half-jog in her best effort to keep pace behind the man’s brisker pace.

Damn these shoes are hard to walk in..

She follows him through the Dossal Gates and up the many winding steps of the Tower’s stairwells, reminded of the many treks she’s taken to get to the very same person she’s seeking now.

The gatekeeper takes a final turn to a different hallway, one the Warrior has never seen before. They come to a stop before a large, grandiose door. The gatekeeper nods to the two guards at both sides of it, before they throw wide the gates, revealing a luxurious ballroom—decorated with pillars of crystal and gold-accented, crystalline floors, crowded with dancing couples of all different races. It was truly a beautiful sight, one of the most beautiful rooms she’s seen inside the tower, taking a mental note to ask the Exarch more about it later. Many pairs of eyes turn to her direction, some in admiration and others in envy, followed by whispered words. She surveys the room, not finding any familiar red-to-silver-headed Mystels in sight.

Sighing, her eyes land on the luxurious buffet across the room, filled with meats, pastries, and foods she’s never encountered before. Her mouth waters as she notices the basket filled to the brim with artisan breads. Her body moves on its own to the buffet table. She takes a whiff of the splendor before her, senses tingling even further.

It smells even better than it looks!

She starts going into a gluttonous frenzy, grabbing and devouring anything in front of her that looks appetizing, which was quite literally everything, missing the trio of moogles eyeing her from a few yalms away.

“Who is that, kupo?”

“She better not be thinking of taking my precious Exarch for herself with just her looks alone, kupo. It’ll take more than that to entrance him...”

“Worry not, my beautiful mogdaughters. You are much more worthy of him—oh, he comes!”

The sounds of loud whistles and applause fill the room as the Mystel descends from the spiraling staircase at the front of the room. He’s ditched his usual robes for an elegant black suit, adorned with similar gold accents and an added capelet on his shoulders, giving him an even more regal air as the red fabric flows behind him.

She misses the pair of footsteps approaching her in her food tirade, munching on a slice of meat while shoving a small bun into her bra (to save for Ardbert). She only notices his presence when he reaches into the same bread basket she had just stole from and grabs a bun for himself.

“This room is certainly much too stuffy, with all the nobles and the like. I will never get used to things like this...how do you fare, my friend?”

She turns to him, jaw almost dropping and letting go of the food in her mouth as she took in the sight of him. She nearly chokes on it, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand in a vain attempt to cover the heat she feels suddenly rising to her cheeks.

Why am I so nervous all of a sudden? It’s just the Exarch. He just looks....more radiant than usual...

“Quite well, thank you, what with all these pompous arses ogling their eyes at each other and missing out on the real goods over here.”

A quiet chuckle comes from his lips, causing the Keeper to wonder when the last time she saw him laughing at ease like this was. She reminisces on the times that they and the Ironworks crew would gather round a fire, several cups deep in their ale, and tell jokes and stories until their sides would hurt from all the laughter.

“We are of the same mind. I’ve always appreciated your honesty. Of which, speaking of...”

He leans his weight on the table with his hand as he shoots her a smirk.

“I’ll speak not of your earlier stunt, should you care to humor me for a moment.”

“Stunt—oh, you saw that?!”

“Of course I did, ‘tis not like you tried to hide it.”

“I—“

“Be that as it may, I’ll not blame you for it. To be honest, I’d have done the same were it not for all these lingering eyes…”

---------

They spend the rest of the night back and forth between banters and enjoying food from the many platters before them. Ignoring the trio of moogles who have floated away seething with jealousy and the rest of the eyes on them, the two of them enjoy this moment of respite, simply enjoying each other’s presence. Unknown feelings begin to bloom in the Warrior’s chest as the night goes on and the Exarch’s eyes shine whenever they land on hers.

They watch as some of the couples slow their waltzes to match the tempo of the slower, romantic tempo the orchestra shifted to. The Exarch looks around before offering a hand to the lady before him.

“‘T’would be ill proper to leave a lady without her dance. Pray, shall we?”

She hesitates before slowly placing her hand in his, giving him a shy grin.

“I may be a dancer, but just know that I haven’t the slightest of how to do these noble sorts of dances.”

He responds with a gentle smile.

“To think the Warrior of Darkness, slayer of the Lightwardens, and she who returned to us the night sky, would fear but a simple dance. I have full faith in your capabilities, and should you falter, I shall be right at your side.”

He leads her to the center of the room and stops, guiding one of her arms to wrap around his shoulders. His crystal hand moves to hold her exposed back, sending a slight chill down her spine. He joins his spoken hand with hers and raises them in the air. He then begins to move their bodies in a swaying motion.

Being so close, she feels the warmth radiating from him, sending her heart beating in a more rapid pace. He leans down to whisper in one of her ears.

“Y-you look beautiful tonight.” Her green eyes shoot up from the ground to meet crimson. She notices the redness on his face, praying to Hydaelyn that he doesn’t notice the same on her own features.

“T-thanks, you look—uhm, dashing too. I guess.”

They pause to look at each other before both bursting into a fit of laughter. As they settle down, they continue to quietly sway, in their own world despite the crowd gawking at the two of them.

Couples, one by one, recede from the dance floor, until it’s only the pair of Mystels and a handful of other people around them.

“Would you care to seek somewhere a little more private?”

She sputters as more suggestive thoughts fly in her head.

“N-Not like that!” His face grows as red as the top of his hair.

“I have a quieter spot in mind that I think you would enjoy much more than this stuffy old ballroom.”

Unable to form coherent sentences, she gives him a simple nod before letting him lead her out the ballroom. They go through several hallways until they reach a courtyard, breathtaking in its view of the whole Crystarium and Lakeland surrounding it.

She releases a small gasp as she takes in the scene before her, complete with a veil of the night sky decorated with stars. The Exarch goes to lean on one of the railings, to which she mirrors, and they both look out in silence, enjoying the moment.

“Are you enjoying yourself, my friend?” He continues gazing out into the night. The Warrior turns to him, admiring the moonlight giving his profile an ethereal glow.

“Yeah... Are you?”

“More then I could ever hope to put to words.”

He faces her, pausing for too long as he silently stares at her with an unreadable expression.

He moves toward her, not stopping until they’re only ilms apart. Before she can ask what he was doing, he grabs both of her hands in his own, turning his expression to a look of determination.

“Would you...want to enjoy more nights like this...with me?”

“I don’t understand what you me—“

He grips her hands tighter.

“Will you… marry me?”

She feels lost for words, lips parting as the thoughts in her head spin and whirl out of control. Before they can escalate further, she uses her voice to speak— interrupted by the sound of a loud bell.

Suddenly remembering what Feo U— the Faerie God Mother told her, she pulls away from him.

“I’m sorry—I can’t.”

Her heart sinks at the sad, confused expression on his face. Not wanting to linger for any longer, she holds her skirts and sprints out the door.

---------

Vaguely knowing her way around, she makes her way through the winding hallways as fast as she can, trying her best to ignore the shouts of protest following behind her. Finally reaching the large spiraling staircase, she starts her descent when she feels a crystal hand grab her wrist.

Shite

He hunches over, taking a moment to pant before looking up at her. Her eyes widen at their once again close proximity.

“I said w-wait...pray at least tell me...why you are leaving...have I...said too much..?”

She looks down, her lips trembling as she tries to find words.

“No, it’s—“

The bell toles again, a cruel reminder of the little time she has left.

“—nothing like that... I want to stay, and, I had a great night....believe me...but I have to go.”

She sends him a sad smile before pulling her hand away and quickly descending, not once looking back again, even as she feels one of the slippers drop from her heel.

Guilt finds itself in her gut for being the one to leave him behind without looking back this time.

She reaches the bottom of the staircase, the Dossal gate’s doors now right in front of her. As she begins pushing the door, her body freezes as she comes to a revelation.

Why the hells am I doing this? Who cares if he sees me in rags, that wouldn’t make a difference to the G’raha Tia I know.

Before she can turn back, white completely blinds her vision.

---------

She slowly blinks awake, sending a wave of pain and exhaustion. In her blurry vision, she notes a blur of red to the corner of her bed (bed?). A gear clicks in her mind as everything comes back to her.

I was heading back from slaying a particularly rowdy pack of Sin Eaters who were terrorizing some merchants somewhere in Lakeland... and then I was going to report the sighting to the Exarch, but... now I’m here? I guess I haven’t been getting much sleep as of late either...when was the last time I ate something? No wonder I went into a frenzy raiding that buffet at the ball—

Wait, the ball!

She shoots upright on the bed, ignoring the pounding in her head as she frantically darts her head around the room. Moving to get up, she’s stopped by a crystal hand on her shoulder.

“Easy, my friend, you’re in Spagyrics. The chirurgeons told me you collapsed near the Dossal Gates and brought you here to recover. You really worried us all...but it truly eases that worry to see you now hale and whole.”

She brings a hand to her head and groans, realizing the cleaning, the magic, and the ball were all nothing but a fever dream. She takes a look at the Exarch, noticing that he’s back in his normal attire. She remembers them swaying together at the center of the ballroom, dancing to the beat of their own drum; him telling her she looked beautiful; a cool, crystal hand gripping hers as she’s led to a private courtyard; his face ilms from hers, begging for her to be his—

“…how long have I been out?”

“Three eves, I would say. Pray...you are alright, are you not? You’re staring has become quite perplexing…”

She closes her eyes, shaking her head to rid herself of the strange thoughts bringing her nothing but a headache.

“I-I’m alright.” She doesn’t want these feelings to sully the time they now have together, instead putting on a toothy grin.

“..but a few of your sandwiches would certainly make me feel better...”

The grumble of her stomach matches the timing of her words. The Exarch pauses, then chuckles humbly to himself before standing up.

“A full basket this time, then?”

“Make that two. I don’t intend to share, if you’re going to ask!”

He warmly smiles at the indirect invitation to eat with her. With a hum, he stands and makes his way to the kitchens. He stops at the door to hear her call out to him to ‘make mine extra ham!’ before continuing on his way.

She waits until he’s left before plopping back down on the bed, flipping over to scream into her pillow. These feelings dizzy her, they also make her feel…warm. They confuse her, but they’re not entirely unwelcome, in an odd way. She can’t help but match his smile when the Mystel comes back, her tail wagging as she sees him holding a basket in each hand.

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