#wolrahashtola

[kalina-moonbride]

Mundane Tasks

Context: A non-canonical side jaunt, somewhere mid Endwalker--later than level 84, before the level 88 quest "Hither and Yarns". Spoilers: Patch 2.5 and level 84 main scenario quests. Warnings: Some crude sexual language. Challenge: @ffxivpolyamoryweek! Details here.

White sand got into everything. Showed up everywhere. Came from everything. It came in on people's shoes, sure, but also anywhere the Loporrits had cut, sanded, caulked, or otherwise fabricated building material rather than simply wishing it into being with creation magicks, it drifted around as sawdust. The accommodations for the people of Etheirys, then, remodeled in great haste without any time to fuss about cleanup, were positively caked in it. It reminded Kalina of the Copied Factory, which in turn made her shudder.

The Loporrits had revised the Ancient-sized bedrooms down to something more like lodging at the Carline Canopy or the Forgotten Knight, or perhaps even a Scholasticate dormitory cell: right over the line from “cozy” into “cramped”.

It was certainly too small for three people.

A magicked broom swept white sand into piles near the open door. Kalina then attempted, by way of practice on her mediocre conjury, to use Aero to blow these piles out into a greater accumulation in the corridor outside. She'd made some progress, but all else equal, letting the broom handle the whole operation would have done a better job. On the bed, its clothes clean and free from moon-flour, G'raha and Y'shtola sat taking a break. Or rather, G'raha sat, his back to the wall and legs half folded; Y'shtola lay down, with her head on his thigh. Raha idly pet her shoulder.

“There's something I've been wondering about, Kalina,” said G'raha.

His voice was as calm and even as ever, but Moonbride shot him a look of faint suspicion. “Oh?”

“Is it awkward at all, being here on the moon, with the name you've chosen?”

“Tread lightly, Raha,” said Y'shtola with a smirk. “You may convince her to change it. Again.”

Kalina's Aero dispersed in a whoosh, blowing white sand in all directions, most of them still within the room. The broom began correcting the failure, uncomplaining. She groaned. “I chose it because of the night sky! For the Night's Blessed and the Warrior of Darkness and all! I didn't know we'd be going to the moon, or thinking about living there.”

Despite her words of caution, Y'shtola couldn't resist joining in. “Does the moon know and condone that her Bride has taken other lovers?”

“I'm not fucking the moon!”

“That part's not a problem, I'm sure,” said G'raha lazily. “You're not fucking me, either, and yet all is well.”

Kalina sank down onto a neo-Amaurotine chair still smudged with white dirt. She sat backward on it, resting her chin on its head, pouting with eyes closed. “Maybe I will change it…”

Y'shtola hopped down from the bed and crossed the brief space to her side. She lay a hand on top of the Warrior of Light's head, and caressed down to cup her cheek. “We tease out of love, Kalina ser Moonbride. By any name you choose, you remain ours.”

“Well said.” A guilty look settled onto G'raha's face. “It's unkind of us to make fun of the name of a friend who's passed, besides.”

“Ah, that is fair.” Y'shtola withdrew her hand from Kalina to form a fist and bow her head, sending her thoughts heavensward. “Moenbryda Wilfsunnwyn, I beg your forgiveness. As all faults dissolve in the sunless sea, may my error trouble you not.”

Kalina regarded the two of them with skepticism. “It's not her name exactly. I did go by 'Moenbryda' for a while, like Y'shtola was 'Master Matoya'. But when we returned from the First, I went with something that sounds alike, yet more my own.”

Y'shtola and G'raha stared at her for a silent moment. Then looked at one another. At last Y'shtola turned to her with an expression of perfect gentleness, holding back laughter. “Kalina, my love. In the Roegadyn tongue, 'Moenbryda' means 'Moon's Bride.'”

“What?!” She reflexively tried to sit upright, but with the way her weight had shifted in her awkward configuration to the chair, her chin immediately came back down onto the chair back. “Ow!”

“I'd thought it was intentional.” Y'shtola shook her head. “I should have asked.”

G'raha descended from the bed. “Let's go for a stroll, shall we? Get some air, let the broom do its work, come to terms with personal revelations.” He led the way with Y'shtola, giving Kalina a moment.

“I will have to change it again,” she said mournfully, to the broom.

[blondebnuuy]

While they both know Y'shtola can handle herself, there's no reason to not treat her like a princess. Alt title: Her Boys

[kalina-moonbride]

First Time Sleeping Together

Context: Level 84 quest “Returning Home”. Spoilers: References to character beats from Shadowbringers. Warnings: Sexual interactions and innuendo, non-explicit. Challenge: @ffxivpolyamoryweek! Details here.

Kalina Moonbride and Y'shtola Rhul stood outside the andron, their conversation drawing to a close with Y'shtola satisfied in the Warrior of Light's well-being. “I suspect it will grow colder as the night wears on,” said the sorceress, “so do be sure to stay warm. Sleep well, and may the shadows keep you.” She bowed, with arms folded and held forward: the little parting benediction of the Night's Blessed.

Cold or not, Kalina's heart melted in that moment. She and Y'shtola were the only ones in the whole of the Source for whom that gesture held special meaning. Thancred and Urianger were familiar, sure, but they didn't believe, they hadn't practiced it. Being of the Night's Blessed was a small, strange, secret bond between these two women alone in all the world.

She had declined an invitation to enter the andron, when she arrived, but maybe… “Shtola… don't go yet, please.”

The Miqo'te's ears twitched at the affectionate omission of the tribe marker from her name. “I've said what I came to say. Is there aught else?”

Kalina looked down, willing herself past shyness. “You wouldn't have to … say … anything.” She reached out and put a hand under Y'shtola's, open, that she might freely withdraw if she wished. “Help me stay warm? Like you want me to?”

“Ah…” Her pale eyes filled with sadness, and she too couldn't look into the other's face. But she closed her hand over Kalina's.

“I know you miss Runar. Maybe not as much as he misses you, granted.” Kalina glanced up to see how that landed; Y'shtola smiled a little, wistful, not offended. “I don't want you to forget. But I could help fill the absence, if you'd have me.”

Shtola reached up with her free hand, touched Kalina's fur at the collarbone. Her fingers slid under the chain that connected the bodice of Kalina's Makai jacket to the choker around her neck, closed around it, a faint tug. “This is your desire? To be something more than friends and comrades?”

Ilms away from those fingertips, Kalina's heart raced. “Yes! It has been, for some time. I… guess I lacked the courage until tonight.”

Y'shtola let out a breath between her lips, not quite chuckling. “That you of anyone would speak of failed courage! But it is a dangerous thing, is it not.” She looked up, searching Kalina's face with those literally soul-piercing eyes. But whatever she found there seemed to settle her mind. “…Very well. Let us see what comes of it, together.”

Gods, she wanted to freeze this moment, keep that look on Shtola's face and those hands right where they were, but… the door. She tightened her grip on Y'shtola's hand, turned and pushed through into the andron.

“Oh?” Y'shtola hesitated, and let go of Kalina's hand, as the door shut behind them. There, curled up tight with a pillow and a blanket atop a little padded bench, lay G'raha Tia, sound asleep.

'Oh' indeed. Whoops. “Uh.” Kalina lowered her voice. “Right. Raha came knocking too, maybe a bell ago? For much the same reason as you did. Checking on me, like, to see if I was okay?” She made frantic, meaningless little gestures with her now-free hands. “And yes, I invited him in, too, just like you but… no, different! It's not, um, physical, with him?” She found it more and more difficult to keep her voice to a whisper. She fussed with her choker and its chain, beneath which her skin still felt hot. “I mean, even if it were, it'd be fine! It is fine! We can all be together, it's okay.” She met Y'shtola's eyes directly at last, her expression desperate and pleading. “If it's okay, I mean. With you?”

Y'shtola's body language went very tense and strange, as if she were caught between three different possible reactions at once. Was she about to turn back toward the door, or put her hands on her hips, or lean her head onto one palm? But finally her shoulders relaxed and her expression softened, and she let out a little huff of suppressed laughter. “You're sure he wouldn't object?”

“Yes!” She said it at full volume, and realizing as much, clapped a hand over her mouth. Thankfully, the man on the bench didn't stir. She lowered the hand along with her voice. “We've talked about it, even. What it'd be like, if some of us Scions were … closer. He'll be delighted, I promise.” A parade of thoughts came crashing to a halt in a disastrous pile-up. “But, um, it'd be kind of us to let him sleep. We shouldn't do anything… loud.”

Shtola giggled, the most girlish outburst Kalina had ever witnessed from the woman. Then she closed the distance between them with three long, slow, stealthy strides, and looked up at Kalina.

“I think we can manage.”

[kalina-moonbride]

Vacation

Context: Post Endwalker, at some point before the side story “In Storm's Wake”. Spoilers: Various references to events from Stormblood, Shadowbringers, and Endwalker. Warnings: None. Challenge: @ffxivpolyamoryweek! Details here.

Choosing Kugane as a destination for a romantic getaway meant weeks of preparation, as G'raha had never been there, and Y'shtola's immersion in regional language and custom had been cut short by Zenos's blade. But the payoff was so, so worth it!

Kalina Moonbride had much to show her beloveds: the Hanamachi, where the geiko vied for fame and patronage with fashion and dance; the Sekiseigumi barracks, where Inspector Hildibrand once thwarted an unjust ritual suicide; a teahouse on the aetheryte plaza, whose ash receptacles bore discreet makers' marks of the Gridanian Carpenters' Guild. Raha took to it with his characteristic wonder, absorbing every detail of the city and the Warrior of Light's stories into his copious memory of this star's history. Y'shtola remained more reserved, as was her wont, but clearly enjoyed herself all the same, chiming in with nuggets of esoterica, or appreciating and remarking upon the vibrant character of the city's aether.

As twilight fell, the throuple settled in with bowls of udon at a table in the aetheryte plaza—well away from that teahouse, as none of the three feline-adjacent folk much cared for the smoke. In the glow of hanging lanterns and the aetheryte itself, G'raha fell into a contemplative mood, staring absently into the sky when not slurping noodles.

“Are you all right, Raha?” Kalina tugged at his little finger where it rested on the table.

“Oh! Yes, of course.” But his attempt at a reassuring smile looked tired or sad.

Y'shtola tilted an eyebrow. “Let us not have secrets, now. If something troubles you, we would hear it.”

“Hmm.” It took him several moments to collect his thoughts. “Hearing about more of your adventures, from your own mouth. In times past, I wanted nothing else in all the world. It was my dearest fantasy to someday even hear you call me 'friend'. And now this?” He nodded down to where Kalina's hand still held contact with his. “It would not be a stretch to say I idolized you. It's not that I feel unworthy”—he said this quickly and emphatically, seeing horror creep across Kalina's face—“I did ask to shoulder some of your burdens, after all! But the fact remains that you sometimes seem… larger than life. And I'm still trying to find my way as your equal, your partner. If that makes sense.”

Y'shtola swirled chopsticks in her bowl. Kalina might have hoped she would rebuke G'raha's sentiment, but she did not. Instead, she too sounded a little distant. “Near the end, on the First. It hurt to look at you. Like staring directly into the sun.”

Kalina's voice nearly cracked. “I'd hoped I could leave that behind, when I'm with you two. That in these moments, I wouldn't have to be the savior of Eorzea, or the Warrior of Light or Darkness. Just… Kalina.” It was not yet dark; she instinctively lowered her voice, saying that name, and remained quiet as she continued. “I don't love any differently than anyone else.” Her hand withdrew from G'raha's, as she folded both hers in her lap.

Y'shtola looked back up at Kalina, her face regaining its customary confident edge. “And yet, you are all those things, whether you wish them or not. If we were to forget them, we would fail to embrace you as you are, whole and complete.”

“I apologize,” said G'raha, putting a hand to his chest. “I tried to preserve the atmosphere. But you did insist.”

“Better this way than unsaid, however difficult.” Y'shtola lifted her bowl to her lips and sipped broth, projecting calm. “I will say this, for my part. I suffer not to walk in anyone's shadow, not even the mighty shadow cast by the Warrior of Darkness.” She held a faint, tight smile for a beat, reveling in the tension of it. “And so, dear Moonbride and Tia, I intend to walk beside you both, for as long as our paths remain converged.”

G'raha nodded, eyes regaining their spark. And Kalina did laugh, if only a little. But as they finished their meal, and the stars came out, for that evening it was enough.

[kalina-moonbride]

Role Changes

Context: A few nights after 'First Time Sleeping Together', so level 84 main scenario. Spoilers: Vague references to important Endwalker events. Warnings: Sexual interactions and innuendo, non-explicit. Challenge: @ffxivpolyamoryweek! Details here.

Y'shtola was about to unlace the back of her dress, nightgown at the ready nearby, when she saw G'raha setting out a pillow on the andron's bench, again. She paused. “G'raha. You mean to continue sleeping on that tiny thing? Isn't it uncomfortable?”

He blinked and looked at it, as if the matter hadn't even crossed his mind. “It's not so bad. It's nostalgic, really! I spent many nights like that when I was a student, with others from the study group continuing long after I'd dozed off.” He glanced over at where Kalina sat on the edge of the feather bed in her smallclothes, observing the conversation. He scratched bashfully behind an ear. “Though I could return to my own room, and give you two your privacy.”

“No, no, no.” Y'shtola tapped a fist on her cheek. “Stay here. And while I'm away, you and Kalina can push the table to the wall, if you would.” She swept from the room.

G'raha tilted his head; Kalina shrugged broadly; but the two of them set to the task. The table was long and terribly heavy, but the Hrothgar Warrior of Light, at least, had little trouble hefting her end of it. They managed to shift the furniture aside with minimal strain before Y'shtola returned.

The sorceress carried in a cloth-wrapped bundle, which she set on the floor where the table had been. Then, with a gesture and a short burst of aether, she commanded it to unfold. In a satisfying fwoomp, the package expanded to become a Hingashi style futon. “There. That shall serve much better, for now.”

“I don't know why I didn't think of that,” G'raha remarked. He gave a short bow. “Thank you, that will suit me much better.”

Y'shtola grinned. “You mistake me. I'll be using it, tonight. You and Kalina have the main bed.”

That startled both of her counterparts, and they reacted in unison. “What?”

The briefest flicker of doubt crossed Y'shtola's face, but she persevered. “If I have misread you, Raha, I shall take correction. But you appreciate being close to us, do you not?”

“Certainly.”

“And you have no aversion to physical touch?”

“From those I love this dearly? None whatsoever.”

“Then all is well.” She put hands on her hips. “On the morrow, we can request the feather bed be replaced with one that sleeps three. And if that requisition should be delayed, with Sharlayan in uproar, we'll continue rotating night by night.”

Kalina's tail flicked, then curled, as she considered. “I wouldn't mind, Raha, if it works for you.”

He looked vaguely shell-shocked, but nodded. “It's a fair arrangement.”

With that settled, they returned to their nighttime routine: changing into sleep clothes, extinguishing the lights, and climbing into their beds, however newly configured. Since Kalina was quite a bit taller and broader than the Miqo'te, G'raha found himself tucked in against her chest.

“Your heart is pounding,” he remarked, quiet. “You're sure you're all right?”

“I… will be?” She paused, eyes open, gazing out into the dark of the room. “This will take some getting used to. It did with Shtola, too, but…” She cast about for a delicate turn of phrase. “There we had options? For relieving the tension?”

“Ah. I'm sorry…”

“No, please, don't be! You're you and I love you. It's just—different. And new to me.” As close as they were, she could feel no reaction from him. Not like lovers past. Not like the hot ache she herself felt.

They lay there in silence for some time. She synchronized her breathing to his, let the smell of his hair fill her nose, closed her eyes at last. The desire remained, but the need of it subsided, suffusing into the greater warmth of the time and the place.

“If it helps,” Raha said gently, “This may be the happiest night of my life. Final Days or no.”

Her throat hurt suddenly; she thought she might cry. It did help, though. “Yes!”

“And it will only be better, when it's all three of us!”

She managed to push the choking feeling out into a shaky laugh. “I am very much looking forward to it.”

“So until then. Goodnight!”

Sleep did come, then, carrying those thoughts of imminent perfection away into dream.

[kalina-moonbride]

Celebrations

Context: Post Endwalker main (6.0), with EW Hildibrand quests resolved. Spoilers: Vague/off-hand references to A Realm Reborn, Shadowbringers, and Endwalker events. Warnings: None. Challenge: @ffxivpolyamoryweek! Details here.

Kalina, Y'shtola, and G'raha sat on a bench in the Gold Saucer's Event Square, each tucked into their share of the space without touching. Patrons hurried past them, and even the occasional familiar face pretended not to notice them there.

Namedays weren't a major occasion where Kalina had grown up. If the topic arose at all, it was cause for a word of congratulation and a hug, at most. So when G'raha had asked Kalina what they might do for Shtola's special day, she was at first nonplussed, and then casual. “Oh, we'll think of something.” Then when the time came, her whim settled on the Saucer. Fun, cheerful, in a locale where Y'shtola hadn't spent much time before!

It turned out, there was good reason the sharp-minded conjurer had never paid the place any attention. There was nothing for her, here. Too loud, gaudy, and exploitative.

Chocobo racing? These poor creatures. Should we liberate them? Cuff-a-Cur? Hardly a contest between my arm and yours. I think they'd object if I used magic. Slice is Right? Leap of Faith? Is this supposed to be training? Triple Triad? Rather simplistic, isn't it. And I haven't any cards.

G'raha had done his best to elevate the mood with enthusiastic participation, as if Y'shtola might appreciate his antics in lieu of the activities themselves. Then he came across the Crystal Tower Striker. That miracle of the Allagan Empire, the spire that pierced worlds, heart and anchor of G'raha's story for two lifetimes and more: one Manderville Gold Saucer Point for a chance to bash it with a hammer. He tried to laugh off the discomfort, but from that moment he was in no position to raise the trio's average levity.

Unable to bear it any longer, Kalina lurched to her feet. “All right, I have one last idea. If this doesn't work out, we go home and … I don't know. Eat cake and go to sleep.” She led the way, and G'raha and the lady of the hour solemnly followed.

Y'shtola's ears perked up when they arrived, if for no other reason than that the noise level was substantially lower, here. The hubbub of the casino still murmured in the background, but the room itself produced only conversation—and the click of tiles.

“Doman Mahjong,” Kalina announced, her voice hopeful. “Have you ever played, Y'shtola?”

She rapped her cheek. “I have not.”

“I've only played a few times, myself,” Kalina admitted, “but I think you might enjoy it. Let's start a game! It's meant for four players, but they have automata that can fill in while helping us with the rules.”

They settled in around one of the tables, covered in felt with tiles stacked and ready. Y'shtola still looked skeptical. “Mostly I've heard what absurd sums of gil people wager. And lose.”

“It doesn't have to be like that,” Kalina assured her, trying not to sound desperate. “It can just be a friendly competition, nothing more won or lost than pride.”

“Hmm.”

As they played a tutorial game under the stilted instruction of the automaton, though, Y'shtola began to warm to the activity. The statistics, risk and reward; watching opponents to guess at their goals, while concealing one's own; even the peculiar practice of referring to game elements by their Doman names instead of inventing some translation, all captured her attention. She studied a list of yaku as if she were deciphering a Ronkan stone tablet. By the time they were ready to start their second game, the mood had thawed considerably, as Y'shtola called her pons and riichis with the flourish of an enthusiast. G'raha, too, forgot to brood. He put on a competitive game face Kalina had only seen before when he'd parried the strike of a Blasphemy on the snow fields of Eblan.

A voice politely interrupted. “Might I join you? A gentleman doesn't suffer his friends to play with automata.”

They looked up from their work resetting the table. The newcomer flexed. Posed. Flashed a smile with brilliant white teeth.

“Hildibrand Manderville!” Kalina grinned back at him.

Y'shtola presented a smile of her own, in good spirits at last. “Please do step in. These two have yet to provide me with any challenge.”

Kalina breathed a surreptitious sigh of relief as the Inspector dismissed the automaton and sat down, making small talk with her beloveds. Later, she would have apologies to make, and put extra effort into understanding what they all needed from a celebration like today's. But for now? Perhaps this nameday could be salvaged.

[kalina-moonbride]

Mothercrystal + Religious

Context: Immediately after the level 89 quest “Her Children, One and All”. Spoilers: One of the most significant plot points in Endwalker. Warnings: None.

“Kalina? Beloved Moonbride…” Y'shtola did not ask are you there; even in the unlit andron, her lover's aether shone bright as ever, burning like a roaring hearth there upon the bed. “Will you have my company?” This was their space now, yes, and the door had been unlocked, but sometimes one needed solitude.

The reclining Warrior waved vague permission, though she said nothing. Y'shtola pushed the door closed, and walked quietly to her side. She stepped around pieces of armor carelessly strewn on the floor. “You left so abruptly after the debrief with Fourchenault. Are you well?”

“…No.”

There was no sickness evident in her aether, but dynamis, that could be a different matter, invisible to aethersight. This bodes ill. Y'shtola pushed down the sudden rush of alarm that chilled her spine, and willed herself to calm, as always. She needs you. Tend to her. She sat down on the bed, by Kalina's feet. “What troubles you?”

“Hydaelyn…” The Hrothgar's voice came so thin and weak, at such stark odds with her usual strength, as to be nearly unrecognizable. She lay half curled, her tail wrapped around herself, and put a hand to her mouth.

“Ah, yes.” She bowed her head, while placing a comforting hand on Kalina's leg. “We're all still coming to terms with it. I dare say it doesn't yet feel real, to most of us.” Her thumb stroked Moonbride's shin, an affectionate if unthinking gesture. “But you always were closer to Her than any of us could even dream.”

“You don't—you can't understand!” A shudder went through the Warrior's body, a tremor from her shoulders all the way down into Y'shtola's hand. “I was supposed to fix it! I knew She was weak, that She was… fading.” The euphemism rang louder than the voice speaking it. “But I was going to make it better! Restore Her strength somehow, save… save the…” She choked. Another shudder.

“Kalina, love, that was never Her intent.” Twelve, it hurt to see her like this. But Y'shtola dared not crack, herself. “She said as much. That She meant to test us, and impart Her gifts if we proved worthy. As Her final act of grace.”

“Test us!” At last a great sob broke forth. “Test us… it was supposed to be like in Elpis! An earth-shaking sparring match! And we laughed after.” She jolted half upright, bracing her back against the headboard, her legs flinching away from Y'shtola's touch. “Shtola, I killed Her. I was Her champion, and I killed Her!” She buried her head in her hands, claws pressing into the hollows of her eyes, gasping.

Y'shtola's heart pounded. What could she possibly do or say to bring Kalina back to herself? She found words that were true, but unlikely to be right. “Kalina… dearheart. It was not your spear that laid Her low. It was Her long and arduous service holding this star in tranquility, a labor at last ended. She would soon depart, no matter the circumstances. She chose to have us bear witness to it, that is all.”

Moonbride made no reply, only shook her head, bent nearly to her knees. Y'shtola could not see the smoky tendrils of despair, but she could imagine them, and it filled her stomach with ice.

A shaft of light split the room: the door had once more opened, admitting the hallway's glow. A familiar figure hesitated there, silhouetted in indecision. “Oh!” G'raha Tia lowered his head, abashed. “Is this… not a good time? I can…”

“No!” Y'shtola shot him a pleading look. “Come in, Raha, please. Close the door, but hurry.”

He rushed to his partners' company, pushing the door behind him. With a thump, his toe collided with an armored boot of Maiming, but he managed not to yelp or fall. “What's happened?”

“She's grieving Hydaelyn,” Y'shtola said. “I've tried to explain, this was Her lesson to us…” She shook her head and looked to Kalina, trying once again. “Our star, and the distant ones that perished. All things end, but it's in the strength of those who remain that hope flourishes—”

“Ah.” G'raha knelt beside Kalina and carefully, gently, folded his hands around one of hers, guiding it away from her face. She flinched, but only a little, permitting the movement. “I think… this isn't the time for explanations. Hope grows from sorrow, yes. But we still have to live through the sorrow when there's nothing to it but pain.” He kissed the back of Kalina's hand, and touched her face where tears wet her fur. “Kalina?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Is there something the Night's Blessed do at times like these? A ritual, a prayer?”

“Oh…” Thankfully, Moonbride didn't notice Y'shtola's brief why didn't I think of that grimace. “I… we… we could say the farewell from the Darker. Hydaelyn doesn't have a Heartstone, not exactly. Not here. But we still have the words.”

G'raha nodded and looked to Y'shtola. “You know what she means?”

“Yes.”

“Then you two can say the words together. I'll be right here with you.” He reached out, joining hands with Kalina and Y'shtola both. Taking his cue, they joined hands as well, making a three-person circle there on and beside the bed.

Kalina seemed to hesitate, so Y'shtola began the recitation. It took them a moment, but soon their voices found unison.

In the light, She was known as Hydaelyn. But in the dark, we shall remember Her always as Venat. We take this moment to offer Her our prayer.

We entrust Her now to the night's sweet embrace. In Darkness will She be free from pain and suffering, now and forevermore. May Her soul find peace in the sunless sea of heaven, and in the love we bear for Her in our hearts.

Kalina sobbed once more, and her beloveds held her as she wept, until her tears were spent.

[kalina-moonbride]

Date Night

Context: Shortly after Endwalker main story (6.0). Spoilers: None, though it'll make no sense absent familiarity with the Return to Ivalice raids. Warnings: None. Challenge: @ffxivpolyamoryweek! Details here.

“The Majestic Imperial Theater Company is making a stop in Limsa Lominsa,” said Y'shtola, flourishing a trio of paper tickets printed with intricate Eorzean script. “Shall we?”

“That sounds delightful!” said G'raha, beaming. “Count me in.”

Kalina gazed past her lovers into nothing, the thousand yalm stare. “Denizens of the abyss, from ink of blackest night, I summon you.”

G'raha tilted his head. “Beg pardon?”

“Denizens of the abyss, from ink of blackest night, I summon you.”

Y'shtola shook her head, then patted Kalina's arm. “I won't pressure you to confront anything traumatic. But if you should recover, a seat awaits you.” She tucked the third ticket into one of the straps crossing the Hrothgar's abdomen.

“Denizens of the abyss, from ink of blackest night, I summon you.”

Y'shtola offered her arm to G'raha, who allowed himself to be led away, though not without a puzzled and concerned glance backward at the mumbling Moonbride.

“Denizens…”