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FFXIV Write 2023 - Day 6 - Ring

Shadowbringers spoilers, set post-6.2, and GSM questline references. Tooth-rottingly sweet.

When Serendipity called M'hana on her linkpearl, she knew it was an order of the utmost importance. When she got handed a sealed letter that supposedly contained instructions or inspirational material for the piece- an engagement ring, the pink-haired young woman had told her with a wistful, somewhat envious sigh- she knew that the client was going to be a stickler for the details.

And then she opened the letter and found Thancred's familiar scrawl staring back at her. She skimmed over the letter, then looked back at her guildmaster. "And yer sure I should be the one on this project?"

Serendipity shrugged. "The man came in person, and he was insistent that I put this project in the hands of only the finest artisan in the guild. That's you, still! I know you're proud of your students, but they haven't quite surpassed you just yet."

"Huh... Well, if ye say so, then I'll take on the project. He wanted it done by next week, ye?"

Serendipity nodded. "Yeah, he did. I know that's a major rush for something this intricate, but you can handle it, right?"

At this, the Sun Seeker couldn't help a cocky smirk spreading across her face. "That's why I'm the best, y'know. I'll make sure I've got it done and hand-deliver it meself when he comes to pick it up."

Serendipity leapt in place as she celebrated the commission. "Thank you! Oh, you really are the best, I'm so glad I can count on you even with all your other obligations."

As the aether warped around M'hana to carry her towards her residence in the Goblet, she had to stifle a laugh. Honestly, did Than forget that I'm a part of the Goldsmith's Guild? Did he not know I'm their top artisan? I could have sworn I told him both of those things... But then again, he's mentally had about five years out from home and I probably told him before he got whisked over to the First, so...

Dwelling overmuch on how much time Thancred had stolen from him by their third-newest ally, G'raha Tia, made her want to punch him in the shoulder, so she put that thought from her mind as she opened Thancred's instructions to peruse in greater detail. He'd found drawings of several wedding rings intended for royalty and the like and folded them neatly in with his instructions for the look of the ring. Something that seemed to swirl with nascent magical potential, but something cheery and whimsical and fun, almost fae-like in nature.

That sentimental bastard. She thought, rolling her eyes with a good-natured chuckle. Of course he'd want to propose with a ring that encapsulated all of me. Well, ye know what? Two can play at that game.

And so, she set aside her beloved's ever-so-detailed instructions and grabbed a piece of paper to draw her own concept for the ring.

If she just took his idea and masculinized it, she'd have a fantastic engagement ring to give to Xander for Urianger- Whenever they managed to get back on the same boat again, because dammit, they're a great match even if they don't see it right now. she thought, tail swishing in mild annoyance- but not one fit for Thancred.

Something the color of gunmetal seemed like the best fit for the base of the ring. A silver-black tone reminiscent of the parts of a gunblade. Maybe some gold detailing along the sides? Diamonds or small chunks of aetheryte crystal were the most common for wedding rings to allow the beloveds to move to one another's side at any time, but given Thancred's inability to travel with ordinary aetherytes, that seemed gauche.

Although... A diamond could work if I carve it in the right shape and make it a sort of smooth, large square shape. Mm, he'll probably have to take the damn thing off anyway if he's going into hostile territory, but still.

Her thoughts circled this same drain for hours before she finally settled on a design with which she felt satisfied. Then, after scouring her current resources for materials- and calling in a favor with her dear friend Iori to mine some ore for her- she set to work.

It took every single moment of that week to complete her 'commission' for Thancred. Now, she just had to present it to the man. She stood to the side, her jaunty Goldsmithing hat pulled down over her face to conceal her identity as Thancred breezed into the Guild to pick up his order.

"Got it for ye right here, Than!" she called, crossing the guild to his side when she heard him ask for the order at the counter.

Thancred blinked several times in rapid succession as confusion, then bafflement, then realization, then amusement crossed his face. "I- Well. Gods, now don't I look a fool? Placing an order for the best artisan in the guild when- that's right, you did tell me you did Goldsmithing work. Gods, I can't believe I- Well. I suppose the coeurl's out of the bag with the question I wanted to ask, then."

M'hana shrugged. "Ye, it kind of is, but don't worry. I still intend to make good on my delivery. And I've a question for ye as well."

She took a knee before Thancred, whipping the black box containing her altered vision for the ring out from her pocket and clicking it open. "Thancred Waters, will ye make an honest woman out o' this mess of a miqo'te?"

It wasn't often that Thancred got struck speechless, but he spent several long moments in silence, studying the details of the ring. "Gods, you didn't have to- did you seriously go through all the trouble of designing this especially for me?"

M'hana beamed. "Seemed only fair, since ye went all out on yer plans for my ring. And ye still haven't answered me question. People are startin' to gather 'round, like."

Thancred fanned himself in that endearing way he did when all the attention of the room suddenly focused in on him to diffuse the tension. His eyes crinkled in amusement as he said, "Doubt anything I could do would ever make an 'honest' woman of you, kitten, but to answer your question... Yes. I will. If you'll have this grizzled old gunbreaker in return."

M'hana leaped up from the ground and wrapped her arms tight around Thancred, standing on tiptoe to kiss him while the patrons and artisans in the guild around them clapped. She tousled his hair as she pulled back with a breathy giggle of, "Yer not that grizzled or old yet. But I'm sure I'll see ye get there. Now, what say we lose this crowd and find ourselves somewhere a bit cozier to celebrate our engagement?"

Thancred grinned wolfishly in reply. "I know just the way to slip away."

And with a breath, both rogues seemed to vanish before a confused and delighted crowd.

FFXIV Write - Day 9 - Fair

Early ShB spoilers

Halone's frozen tits, this is the FUCKING worst. Celeste groused to herself, massaging her feet with oils after yet another long day in the Crystarium.

None of the other Scions decided to remain here, I've become the errand girl for the Crystalline Mean, and to add insult to injury, I'm not even here because I was WANTED or NEEDED. I was just a bloody casualty in the Exarch's attempts to reach his real target, Xander. Because of course it's Xan. It's bloody well ALWAYS Xan.

She threw aside her gauntlets in disgust as she recalled the sheer reverence in the Exarch's voice as he 'apologized for the inconvenience of her summons' and told her of his intentions to bring the Warrior of Light across the Rift. Suppose I should consider myself fortunate that he even knew who I bloody well was, though hells if I know how he knew of me. But GODS, this isn't FAIR.

She flopped back on her well-appointed bed in the Pendants, staring at the ceiling. Even despite the curtains she'd drawn shut, Light leaked into the room, all but blinding to her bleary eyes. Can't even have the decency of calling me directly, and now I'm run off my feet just trying to help the city run smoothly.

[You could just say 'no'.] Fray's familiar voice rumbled from the corner. [You're under no obligation to help these people. This isn't your world, and they're not your concern. You could just while away the hours until your comrade arrives.]

Celeste sighed at her other self's words, laying her forearm over her eyes as she delivered her rebuttal. "No, I can't. My world or not, it's where I'll be living for the foreseeable future. And these people need my help. Plus, I'd be bored just waiting around for Xan to drag his arse over here. And, well... if he doesn't show up..."

While he'd been sparse on details, the Exarch told her when she arrived that her Blessing of Light would be crucial in the days to come, should his summons fail again. Which meant, more than likely, that if Xander didn't show up the next time the Exarch tried his little 'expanse contract, eon become instant' ritual, that she'd become the linchpin to his plans to save the First. If he didn't arrive, then the burden of saving this world would fall upon her.

The thought of truly carrying the world's fate across her shoulders alone sent a chill down her spine. If she wasn't up to the task, how could she ever face all the people she'd volunteered to help since her arrival here? How could she face the Scions? Herself?

...is this what it's like for Xan, I wonder? All this running about like a headless dodo and this relentless pressure to perform acts of heroism?

She shuddered.

Maybe I haven't been fair to him. All this time, I thought he just got off on the plaudits and the praise and all that rot. That he loved soaking in the attention being THE 'Warrior of Light' got him. ...but maybe, in his heart of hearts, he feels as scared and alone as I do right now...

Considering that possibility made regret squeeze around Celeste's heart like a vice. Though she'd long since forgiven him his priggish behavior before entering Ishgard, and he'd done likewise for her behavior after their arrival, she'd not really let go of her resentment that he'd stepped forward as the face of the group. A face that wouldn't have been nearly so charismatic without her help in tailoring his approach to his audience.

Him stepping into the healer's role and offering his critiques from his limited experience only solidified Celeste's anger and bitterness at being replaced within their merry group. And that wasn't fair to him either, when he'd simply wanted to expand his knowledge base and offer assistance. Then again, it hadn't been fair to her to expect her to simply accommodate him changing roles on a whim back then, either.

As her reflections on the past gamboled over one another in her head, a knock on the door startled her from her thoughts.

"M-Mistress Celeste? I was told to come and fetch you post-haste. You have a comrade waiting to see you at the markets."

The duskwight all but catapulted herself from the bed at the hailings of the elezen- elf, they were called elves here- who worked the front desk. She didn't dare to hope, to believe that it might actually be him, but she had to see.

She threw on some clothes and offered a hurried apology to the young lad as she barreled right past him and charged full-tilt for the Musica Universalis. She only stopped running when she passed the Market Board and saw a familiar head of blond hair seemingly having a little chat with Bragi, jotting notes down in that ever-present Codex of his.

When at last he finished taking his notes and took his leave of Bragi, Xander paused in the busy marketplace, staring right at Celeste as if in disbelief.

She didn't know who started running for the other first. All Celeste knew was that she had her arms wrapped tight around her friend while he practically sobbed into the bodice of her dress.

"...sorry- all my fault- here because of me and it's not fair-!"

As Celeste ran her fingers through his carefully styled hair to comfort him, the thought she'd tried to keep buried for nearly six moons came rushing forward to stab at her heart. If we don't succeed here, then he's going to die.

As unfair as her circumstances were, as much as she bitched and moaned about being dragged into this entire affair, Celeste knew one thing for sure: Abandoning her friend to die in whatever future Urianger glimpsed from the Rift would be the most unfair act of all.

And she would never allow it to happen.

FFXIV Write - Day 15 - Portentous

Late Shadowbringers spoilers, some disturbing/violent imagery.

'Twas never an easy thing, to behold the specter of the apocalypse rolling in from afar. Worse still was finding oneself with a front-row seat as the events unfolded. Though these portentous events were not his to experience, in truth, but the words and memories of another.

It didn't make the visions that haunted his dreams any less vivid. Though he'd made of G'raha Tia's lived experiences a portent, he'd relived the events recounted in them in his nightmares so oft that it lent a terrible credence to his words of prophecy when spoken aloud.

Some nights, Urianger saw his dearest companions in the Scions fall unconscious one by one, suddenly dropping as if the strings of their lives were cut by some capricious reaper. One moment, alive and well and happy, the next... gone.

Those nights were considerably easier than the vision he found himself faced with this eve.

He'd never been to Garlemald, nor heard much of it from natives, but his mind could well paint the picture of a frozen landscape covered with metal buildings and cut across with roads of smooth black stone composite. He could see his old charges, Alphinaud and Alisaie, dressed for the weather in matching ensembles of red and blue as they addressed Emperor Varis himself in some attempt at peace talks. Standing with them, strangely alight by the flourescent glow of the overhead bulbs, was Xander. The Warrior of Light.

...his beloved, by then, if G'raha's words could be believed. If the ring adorning his left hand within the dream-world spoke true.

And then the Emperor's face warped with sadistic glee. There was a sudden hissing in the air. Cries of alarum and coughing as hands flew to throat and face. Desperate, clawing, gasping for breath as Black Rose subsumed the available oxygen, smothering aether and the very energy required to sustain life itself.

Xander tried to choke out an order for the twins to run. Tried desperately to cover their mouths, their faces, to filter the gas with something, anything, before it worked all-too-quickly on their smaller bodies.

It wasn't long before he curled on the floor next to them. Coughing, choking, gasping and pleading as he fumbled with his linkpearl to communicate the danger.

It would have been easier to watch him fight to the last breath for life. Instead, Urianger witnessed the moment the light of hope- of life- died in his lover's eyes. The moment he resigned himself to his fate, and pulled the twins to his side in what might, in brighter days, have passed for a gesture of familial comfort.

Urianger longed to save them, to run to their sides, to protect them. But when he forced himself to move, it felt as if his legs were mired in a pool blackest pitch.

And all throughout Garlemald- nay, the world- lives crumbled, and the rest was silence.

He awoke in a puddle of his own sweat, gasping in the still, stagnant air of the First. It wasn't pleasant, but it was a marked improvement over what he'd just experienced in his dreams. Pixies fluttered to and fro outside his window, chattering about inanities amongst themselves.

A sense of normalcy returned, despite the oddness of his current circumstances.

'In the end, 'tis but a dream. And a foul dream it shall remain if I can but stay the course until the end.

Ffxiv spoiler, I guess

Ardbert. Hated these warrior of darkness (seriously, kill thief are awful. These were mine to kill!) But "We did everything right, and yet..." This hurt me.

Found once more with the survivors of the 13th. They tried. They tried so hard, and yet.

Also the Ascians. To a certain degree. (Hard to empathize with Hermes and Meteion, and Zodiark was a stupid idea)

obsessed where stories where it is like. the mistakes are unfixable and the worst thing that could happen happened and nothing can go back to how it was. but there was still love in this and love will continue after this and love endures always.