The chapter I’ve been waiting for since I finished 2.0!! The Beginning of the End, huh? Don’t worry, we’re not even at HW yet, but this is kind of where I feel the happy fluffy 2.0 simple fairy-tale vibes begin to fall away to plunge us deeper into a typical emotionally fraught dramatic FF story. So I guess it might be more accurate to call it the End of the Beginning, but that’s less dramatic.
I’ve been reading about translations of the Japanese and it makes me concerned about presenting the best story here that I can (and also what I’m missing out on by only understanding English!) but in the end, since I do only understand English, I will have to make the best of what I’ve got. I’ve also edited the story about Nael, and about rezzing.
Chapter 12: The Sleeping Emperor
Chapter 13: The Beginning of the End
“So this is going to work perfectly and nothing bad could ever come of it, right?”
Alphinaud looked up from his massive pile of paperwork in annoyance at Tam. “If you don’t have anything constructive to say, I don’t need to hear it. I know everyone has doubts, but I intend to see this through nonetheless.”
“Who says it was unconstructive?” He wasn’t going to flat out advise Alphinaud, how else would the boy ever learn? “All right, what are your contingencies for when corruption inevitably sinks in?” Not one of the Grand Companies or other major military forces in Eorzea was free from corruption. What made this kid think his was the first?
“Everything has been accounted for,” Alphinaud insisted, signing another document and moving it from one pile to another. “You needn’t worry.”
Tam burst out laughing. “All right, all right. I still think it’s a terrible idea, but that’s none of my business.”
“You needn’t laugh,” Alphinaud said, trying to pretend he wasn’t sulky over it. “Why, precisely, is it a terrible idea?”
Tam threw himself sideways over a nearby chair, crossed his legs, put his hands behind his head. “I mean, first of all, what sort of name is that for a military company? What are they, New Worlders made of glass?”
“I’m not explaining the Zodiac Braves to you if you don’t already know,” Alphinaud said coldly. “Go ask Urianger about them. Next comment please.”
But he wanted Tam’s advice, was desperate for his approval, which was why he hadn’t tried to throw him out yet. He’d try a more serious question. “All right, what’s the politics on a private army running about Eorzea, getting involved on your sole say-so?”
“Every nation will have an equal right to call on the Crystal Braves. I told you, Minfilia is the head of the force and all will respect her judgement.”
“Minfilia’s not dabbling in military strategy like you always have, Commander.”
Alphinaud pouted. “If I am required to select which missions to engage in, I will not play favourites.”
“And when you get inevitably spread too thin just like everyone else? What about when certain nations end up needing your help more often than the others? What about when individual donors demand special treatment? They will. Isn’t that why we moved to Mor Dhona ourselves? What about those who are suspicious of the fact a callow boy and a naive girl are in charge of an army? How long before they all but brand you a half-exile for pointing out the crown princess is a power-hungry…” he trailed off.
“What?” Alphinaud blinked in justified confusion. “What princess?”
Tam blinked too, putting a hand to his head. Context had shifted again without warning. “Sorry. That one was mine. But the others? This isn’t just the Scions but larger like you seem to think.” He studied the palm of his left glove, frowning. His voice was a soft, sad rumble. “Sometimes you can’t save everyone, Alphie. And I don’t know that this won’t end up getting folk hurt in the long run.”
Alphinaud frowned at the short name, but paused at the sadness. “But I mean to try. I want to do everything in my power to save as many as I can. And this is something I can do. How do we know it won’t work if we don’t try?”
“All right.” Tam snapped back to sardonic stoicism. “I’ll be here regardless.”
“That reassures me more than you know… Anyway, this is only to form the prototype nucleus of a truly Eorzea-wide military, which would not be led only by me. Will you stop fussing now?”
“No. Have fun!” He got up, ruffled the boy’s hair – which earned him a growl – and left.
Then returned, leaning sideways through the door. “What happens when you get old and cynical like me and lose your idealism?”
“Get out!”
“That’s disgusting,” Vivienne said, observing the weird purple octopus… thing. “I will destroy it myself.”
R’nyath didn’t comment, spacing out into the middle distance.
Kekeniro glanced up at R’nyath in concern. “Are you all right? Have you been paying attention?”
“Hm? Oh, yes. The Ultros-topus has formed an alliance with pretty Avila there in order that both might cheat their way in the tournament to the Mythril Cup for… reasons. Why do you ask?”
Kekeniro looked uncertain. “You’ve been quiet… I mean, there’s a pretty woman and a tentacle creature, and I haven’t heard a peep of ‘I’ve seen enough…’ enough… what’s the word?”
“Did you need to encourage him?” Aentfryn grumbled. “I was perfectly content to have a little peace and quiet for once.”
R’nyath shrugged, trying to smile. “I mean, I can pick it up if you like. I have seen enough hentai to know where this is going. I’m not really into tentacles, but twenty gil is twenty gil…”
“Ugh,” Vivienne said, smacking him in the head. “Let’s go get this fight over with.”
The look she gave him was not as barbed as usual, suggesting even she was worried about him. He didn’t really care. He’d fight as well as he was able, but his heart wasn’t in it yet. Not yet…
Limsa Lominsa’s semi-tropical heat was a welcome change from the chill of the more northerly climes, especially to a Thanalan native. “Um, excuse me?” Rinala had finally gathered her courage to approach the big, burly, eye-patched Roegadyn doorwarden to the ‘Dutiful Sisters of the Edelweiss’.
She’d come alone, despite the fear of strangers, despite the fear of unscrupulous cutthroats or rapists or kidnappers in the lower parts of Limsa Lominsa, despite Thancred’s vague warnings that she might not enjoy the company. She was a Warrior of Light, if anything really bad happened she could blast out some Fluid Auras and Aero 3 and run away. The Echo would tell her if someone approached her with evil intentions, right?
She didn’t want the others to know she was trying this. It might all come to nothing, she might give up before she started, and she didn’t want her friends to be party to her failure. They were off helping Alphinaud recruit soldiers for his new Grand Company. They wouldn’t laugh at her, but they might try to talk her out of it, or protect her, or make consoling noises that would just make her feel worse. She had to do this herself.
The doorwarden grinned at her. “Lost, little dove?”
“Um, no, I’m here to join the, um, Dutiful Sisters.”
He smiled, trying to put a kind look on his cragged face. “The Sisters, uh, ain’t takin’ acolytes at the moment, dove. But thanks for the offer.”
“N-no, I mean- I’m a friend of Thancred!” There, it was out in the open.
The Roegadyn looked startled, then burst out laughing. “Haha! Ye can’t really mean to join the Sisters. It’s not for folks like ye, mettlesome though ye be.”
“I want to try!” she insisted. “I want to fight like he does. I-I think it will help me to be a better fighter.” Because honestly, right now she was terrible, panicking at the first sign that things were spiralling out of control. Her healing magic, even her black magic might have been considerable, but she had been thinking that learning how to fight close up would help her to… keep track of the battlefield better? To have better reflexes? She wasn’t sure. Maybe it was just to try and impress Thancred after all. Which would be silly.
He thought for a minute, stroking his chin. “Tell ye what, I’ll let Cap’n Jacke know ye’re here. He’ll be the one to decide. Come wi’ me.”
The interior of the Dutiful Sisters was rather dark, windowless and lit with scattered candles. Wanted posters and large, crudely written charts, and one very nice map of Eorzea were all posted across the rough-hewn walls. It smelled incredibly strongly of fish and unwashed people of all races, with maybe a faint undercurrent of blood. There were maybe half a dozen people lounging about, and they all turned to look at her as the Roegadyn led her in. “Cap’n Jacke!”
A young-ish, unbearded Hyuran man stepped briskly forward. “Well, well, what have we here, Lonwoerd? A sweet thing come to ask for help?” He put one hand on a hip and leaned towards her flirtatiously, a devilish smirk curling his lips. Yes, she could well believe that he knew Thancred.
“In a manner o’ speaking, I suppose.” Lonwoerd gestured to her and she stepped forward, clutching her hands before her chest.
“I want to join the Dutiful Sisters,” she said, willing her voice not to fade. “I’m a friend of Thancred, and I want to learn to fight like he does.”
“Ohhhh,” said Jacke, his grin changing from amorous to intrigued and teasing. “A friend of Thancred’s, or a ‘friend‘ of Thancred’s?”
“I wish!” she said before her brain caught up with her mouth, and she clapped her hands over her mouth when she realized what she’d said. Blushing and stammering and shaking her head at the rogues’ laughter, she managed to amend: “It’s not like that! Oh gods, pleasedon’ttellhimIsaid that-”
“There’s a new one!” Jacke cried in great amusement, slapping his knee. “Ol’ Thancred, friends with a bonny lass – a bonny, willin‘ lass at that – and not making a pass at her? Next ye’ll be sayin’ he’s takin’ to flyin’!”
“Please, please don’t tell him,” she begged. “I didn’t mean to say that. I-I’ll tell him in my own time.”
“As ye wish, lass. Too bad Thancred didn’t come wi’ ye. Been a while since I saw his shite-eatin’ grin. Cor, it’s been ages since he up and left the Sisters. What I wouldn’t give to run with the old scoundrel again, just like back in the old days… Now, what handle d’ye go by?”
“I’m Rinala.”
His expression shifted again, though he hadn’t stopped smiling since he set eyes on her. Now it was more businesslike. “Ah, Rinala Sweetwhisper, weren’t it? The famous one! Thought I recognized ye. Ye saved us from that bloody Leviathan a short while back, and ye have our thanks for it.” He added in an aside to himself: “That explains Thancred, then…”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Ah, ye don’t know? Thancred don’t… er… get involved wi’ his mates in the line o’ duty. Not me tale to tell, though. Now, wasn’t expecting a hero of yer stature to seek us out, and to join us in the shadows, no less! Ye sure about this, me natty lass?”
She nodded. “I’m sure.”
“There’ll be sneakin’ through the darkmans, slittin’ throats and millin’ culls what don’t abide by the Code. Ye’ll be gettin’ yer daddles dirty an’ yer dew beaters dancin’. We won’t demand yer presence when ye’re off savin’ the world, but when ye’re with us, ye’re with us all the way. The only thing that matters is gettin’ the job done. An’ we won’t think less o’ ye should ye decide this life ain’t for ye. Bene?”
There were a lot of words that she hadn’t even heard Chuchupa use before, but she thought she understood. She didn’t like hurting people directly, but as she’d once said to Achiyo, it didn’t seem fair leaving the others to bear that burden alone. And while she was still nervous around the roughness of the rogues, she felt she could be pretty confident that Thancred wouldn’t still be friends with the sort of people who hurt innocents. They were rough, but they were good-natured so far, so it wasn’t as bad as he’d hinted. And she’d heard the word ‘dance’ in there somewhere, that was promising. “Bene.”
Jacke laughed. “Ye’re a quick one! Welcome to the guild, Rinala!” One of the other rogues nearby, a red-haired Sun Seeker woman, snorted indelicately and turned away. “Don’t ye mind V’kebbe. Now, let’s sort ye with a pair o’ stabbers, and tell ye more ’bout the Code…”
Tam was eventually sent up to Camp Dragonhead, as much to get him out of Mor Dhona as to make inquiries on behalf of the Adventurers’ Guild of Revenant’s Toll. He didn’t mind, though Coerthas, frigid at the best of times, was cold enough in the winter season that he was actually pleased to get indoors into Camp Dragonhead’s warm and slightly smoky great hall. “Haurchefant.”
“Tam!” Haurchefant sprang up from his chair to greet him with his warm, wide smile and a back-slapping hug. “What brings you here, my friend? Come for another sparring match with my knights?”
“Not this time.”
“…No? ……Are you sure?” Haurchefant asked coyly. Such a tease, like his prince.
“Alas,” Tam said, smirking. “Business before pleasure, or else Tataru will probably collapse. Have you heard about the suspected heretic raid?”
“The incident with the frontier hands in Mor Dhona?” Haurchefant nodded, and began to ramble cheerfully. “Brave men and women all… They do our nation a great service. The existence of a fortified outpost in Mor Dhona will do much to dissuade the Empire from trespassing on Coerthan soil. Right glad am I that you have chosen to lend your support to this endeavour. Never let it be said that House Fortemps does not acknowledge the efforts of her allies… or her debts. ‘Twas in the spirit of gratitude that I arranged for sundry supplies to be delivered to Revenant’s Toll. That the shipment should chance to be waylaid by heretics is poor fortune, indeed.”
“Yes, yes,” Tam said, somewhat impatiently. “And yet I hear they’ve become bolder recently, with a new leader. What do you know of her?”
“Sadly, very little. Lady ‘Iceheart’, they call her. But though I have devoted significant resources to the task of identifying this woman, we have yet to learn so much as her birthname. What we do know is that the heretics speak of Iceheart in reverent tones, and would gladly embrace death rather than betray her. Such loyalty is rare indeed, and I fear to imagine what so committed a collective might achieve. The brigands have not yet been so brazen as to risk direct confrontation here in Dragonhead. Some few of their number have, however, been sighted not far to the west of here… and with ever-increasing regularity.”
Tam was silent, thinking.
“Tam?”
“Hm. Interesting. I suppose a visit to Whitebrim Front is in order.”
“Ah, that’s a capital plan. Would that I could go with you! But since I am bound here, Halone’s blessings be upon you… and pray, do not be too reckless in your pursuit of these heretics. You are the strongest warrior I know! Yet I worry, for I know your determination, your stubbornness, if you will, and your love of danger. And I fear you do not know yet how cold Coerthas truly is in the winter, since the Calamity.”
“You know me too well,” Tam said. “And yet not quite enough. I’ve been doing this a while, if you recall. Even should I follow the heretics back to their own den, you may be sure I won’t throw my life away, to ice or to blades. How else shall I return to give your knights a thrashing? To spar with you yourself, were you not so overwhelmed by the prospect?” He should probably spar with him anyway. Maybe it would help the lad with his overdeveloped hero-worship bashfulness.
Haurchefant blushed. “Splendid! Ah… that is… er… s-splendid!” He made a visible effort to collect himself, and put a hand on Tam’s shoulder. “Go well, then, my friend. Should you learn aught of value, pray return to me forthwith. A warm hearth and a warmer welcome shall be waiting for you.”
Achiyo shook snow from her cloak and stamped it from her feet as she entered the chamber Haurchefant had called the Intercessory at Camp Dragonhead. The last week had been busy, but Alphinaud had informed the Warriors of Light that the original four – Tam, Rinala, Chuchupa, and Achiyo – had been requested for “an audience with an ambassador of the Holy See of Ishgard.” His title was impressive: Lord Commander of the Temple Knights, though she wasn’t really clear upon what a Temple Knight was. In any event, he must be a personage she would make an effort to work amicably with. One could never have too many allies, especially when Haurchefant spoke highly of him… She hung her cloak and fussed with her wind-blown hair a little.
“The Temple Knight Commander himself, hmm?” Tam said, lacing his fingers behind his head. “I’ve heard much about him. I think I’ll like him, even if he does seem overly strait-laced. He’ll probably mildly dislike me. …Better than the cow-minded equivalent I had back home.”
Alphinaud blinked at him. “How do you know him to be strait-laced? I’ve barely heard of him, only that he is recently appointed to his position.” Tam winked and said nothing.
“Why am I here?” Chuchupa demanded. “I said it back in Revenant’s Toll and I’ll say it again: ye’re wasting my time.”
“I’m sorry,” Achiyo said. “Please bear with it, just for now.”
“Will ye come minotaur-hunting with me after, then, Princess?”
“Anything you like,” Achiyo said, smiling.
Chuchupa grinned wickedly. “Ah, don’t say that to a pirate, Princess. But I’ll be good. Ish.”
“I’m a bit nervous,” Rinala said, pushing her big puffy hood back from her hair and rubbing her cold hands together. “I’m glad I don’t have to say anything.”
“That’s right,” Tam said as Haurchefant entered, fluffing the snow from his hair. “Just sit there and be adorable.”
“Understood!” Rinala said with a big smile.
Haurchefant smiled at them all too. “Just what Tam said, Miss Rinala! My old friend has long wished to make your acquaintance. There is nothing to fear.”
“Alphinaud’s the one taking all the heat this time,” Tam said, nodding.
“It’s nothing I’m not used to,” Alphinaud said, mayhap a little arrogant.
“I sent Aymeric word that we were ready to begin, so he should be down in a moment- ah, here he is.”
The door opened, and an Elezen man and Hyuran woman entered, both dressed in heavy armour. The Scions turned to greet them, and Achiyo felt a strange jolt run through her. She tried to hide her surprise, and feared it was too late, hoped he hadn’t seen, that he had been looking at Tam, at Alphinaud, anywhere but at her.
She hadn’t expected him to be so gorgeous.
Pale skin, jet-black silky hair with sideburns that made her heart flutter, long Elezen ears with asymmetrical jewellery, piercing light blue eyes – when he turned his gaze upon her, as she stepped forward to introduce herself, she felt her heart jump again. She had never seen a man so beautiful before, and was certain she never would again, and he was courteous, though she could scarce tell what he was saying through her shock. His voice was gentle but firm, clear as a bell, articulate and thoughtful, and she immediately longed to hear much more. She hardly noticed the stern woman at his left assessing them all, or Haurchefant’s enthusiastic nodding at their praise of the Warriors of Light. Or even the reactions of her fellow Scions. With an effort, she managed to keep her voice steady when greeted, to bow properly, to keep most of her blush from her cheeks. Certainly she kept her expression neutral, she had enough self-control for that. Enough self-control that no one would be able to tell she was inwardly without conscious word or thought and might, in fact, be screaming slightly. B-bishounen…
This was outrageous; horrifying; shocking. She could not allow this. He was an ambassador, and so was she, in these circumstances. This distraction was wholly unwelcome and unworthy of a Warrior of Light. Certainly, no man had ever caught her gaze in like fashion before – or woman, either. If she’d found someone pleasing, she’d observed the fact and moved on. Nothing ever came of it, and those who had found her pleasing… were most displeasing to her, for the most part.
But no man had ever been this beautiful before. …Mayhap the distraction wasn’t completely unwelcome.
And yet she ought to focus. No one could know she found him attractive, no one at all. She prayed to all the kami that Tam and Alphinaud had things covered, that no one would ask a question of her that would betray her lack of attendance. But she tried to breathe normally and listen to Alphinaud and Ser Aymeric verbally spar over the idea of rejoining the Eorzean Alliance. Alphinaud seemed to be pushing quite hard, too hard, for her taste. She would have handled it more delicately, less directly. But mayhap that was only a product of her training, and would simply frustrate these plain-speaking Eorzeans. Still… Alphinaud, despite his politeness, seemed almost rude in his forcefulness.
‘Ser Aymeric’, the Ishgardians called him. Aymeric-dono, she tried in her mind. No, it simply wasn’t right, even if it was correct. Aymeric-sama he would ever be to her, as lordly as a young bugyo, calm and mannered and powerful. He was impressive even simply sitting. His hands were so graceful as he gestured.
She refrained from slapping herself in the face and listened on. Kami forfend that she betray herself so easily! It seemed Aymeric-sama wanted to speak on something completely different than the Eorzean Alliance, and far more relevant to Revenant’s Toll. That was good. Monitoring the Keeper of the Lake seemed exactly the thing the Warriors of Light would undoubtedly be called upon to do.
Alphinaud agreed, and things might have been winding down when a breathless soldier burst into the room, bringing tidings that Haurchefant’s second gift to Revenant’s Toll had again been stolen by heretics. Everyone sprang to their feet, and the meeting concluded in confusion.
What colour were her eyes? was the question that plagued him long after the meeting was over and he had returned to Ishgard, leaving Lucia behind to continue the investigation into the heretic assaults. Haurchefant had mentioned that all the Warriors of Light were young and beautiful each in their own way, and he’d mentioned that Achiyo Kensaki had scales and draconic horns, but he hadn’t warned Aymeric that her eyes would be so fascinating. She’d watched him intently throughout the discussion, and he’d felt himself sweating under that gaze, though he tried not to show it, tried hard to focus on Commander Leveilleur’s words, while not avoiding her eyes unduly either.
He would have to be careful: she had an air of romantic tragedy about her, though she herself didn’t seem aware of it, and it was exactly his weakness with women. Lucia had it, for one. Her straight, smooth, elegant silver-green hair, her exotic white scales and horns, that slender nose and solemn little mouth – and she was a tiny little thing, no taller than a Miqo’te, but the way she moved, when she moved at all, bespoke to strength and experience in the sword at her side. Everything about her was dangerously attractive to him, and even the lithe graceful tail wasn’t off-putting. He knew already that news of the Warriors of Light was going to be doubly interesting to him now.
He was glad to have finally met them in person, still would have been glad even if Lady Achiyo were not completely enchanting. They certainly lived up to Haurchefant’s gushing praise, even just seeing them. Master Tam was confounding, Mistress Chuchupa certainly appeared to be a trouble-maker, and Miss Rinala was as sweet as reported. And now Haurchefant was warning him there were four more out there…
He had enough to deal with without her eyes distracting him. Commander Leveilleur and Master Tam were the ones he had to watch out for, mayhap moreso Leveilleur; Master Tam was older, and seemed more cool-headed, with an uncanny knowledge of Ishgardian politics for one who’d never set foot in the city, but also content to sit back and let the younger man take the lead. And the younger man was suspicious, and arrogant, and enamoured of his own intelligence and righteousness, but also a strong potential ally, being an important member of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn and, mayhap even more importantly, the Commander of the Crystal Braves. Aymeric needed his wits about him, and patience, as much patience as he could muster. Leveilleur would understand his intentions eventually.
But… now that it was over, what colour were they? His own were the colour of ice-aspected crystals, Lucia’s were as lush summer-grass emeralds, but hers… He ran through every flavour of ice that he knew – and he knew many, from Coerthas’s transformation these five years – but none matched that delicate pale blue-green blend. This was going to bother him. And he couldn’t allow any hint of that to colour his dealings with the Scions. To admit to being beguiled by her would offend Lucia, insult both Lady Achiyo and the Scions, and perhaps give Commander Leveilleur an unworthy influence over him. He was better than that. Still, in the rare moments of idle contemplation he had these days, there were worse things to think about than Achiyo Kensaki’s eyes.
Years later, he found what colour they were, and it wasn’t ice.