this is horribly self-indulgent (7,000 words of fluff, most of it written literal years ago) and yet it’s what we’ve been waiting for, please enjoy : D
Chapter 51: When the War is Over
The wounded were borne away in wains to Castrum Oriens, Y’shtola among them, with Lyse and Pipin to guard. Gradually, those left took stock of their situation. Rhalgr’s Reach was in shambles. The tents were charred tatters; the cannons were in pieces. Holes had been blown in the cliffs, including those that contained historic chambers now laid bare to the elements. And there were so many bodies, hundreds of casualties, many of them unarmed; people lined them up in neat rows to prepare for burial, weeping and cursing the Imperials. The ground was covered in scattered dark patches of dried blood.
Achiyo had not slept, though she had not been very useful to those trying to regain order. She was still in shock, perhaps, after the sudden devastating attack that had brought back horrible memories she had carefully buried, after nearly dying yet again. Vivienne was taking charge of the Warriors of Light, and Alphinaud couldn’t help but take charge of the Scions, and Achiyo was grateful, for she could barely force words from her mouth, and gravitated towards mindless, repetitive tasks.
Many of those left at the Reach eventually followed the wounded to Castrum Oriens to regroup away from the destruction. To get out of that valley of death and smoke did much to restore her, and more too did riding beside Rinala, who didn’t seem quite sure what to say and so was talking about shinobi trying to learn how to speak Lominsan slang, about the elementals of the Shroud, about the weather. It brought her out of her head, and she could begin to analyze recent events in more than mere emotion.
Upon arriving at Castrum Oriens, Raubahn called a council. “As far as we can tell, Zenos and his men returned straightways to Specula Imperatoris after quitting the Reach,” he said. “‘Twould seem he’s lost interest in us.”
“Which brings us to the most troubling question of all – not how he found us, but why he chose to spare our lives having done so,” Alphinaud said.
“In war, you kill or capture your enemy,” Raubahn said, nodding. “You don’t leave them alive to fight another day. Only a fool would turn his back and walk away… but Zenos is no fool.”
“He could have killed me while I lay bleeding out,” Achiyo said. “He could have made sure there were no healers alive to help us. He did neither of these.”
“Perhaps he believes that a victory is incomplete if the losers are not alive to know they are defeated,” Vivienne said. “The dead don’t care.”
“If the rumours are to be believed, this is not the first time Zenos has ‘spared’ his foes,” Raubahn went on. “They say he abides by an unusual code, and takes pleasure in the fight. Whatever his reasons, we must use this time to our advantage.”
Conrad, despite some injury in the battle – minor, the Imperials were attempting to take him alive – was up and present, and he nodded to Raubahn. “Were it not for the swift actions of the Scions and the Alliance, many more would have died. You risked your lives to save ours, and for that we thank you.”
“There is no need for thanks,” Alphinaud said quietly. “We are allies.”
Raubahn nodded. “Aye, just so. Let us not dwell on this tragedy, but look to the future.”
Conrad sighed and looked down. “The future…? I’m sorry, General, but there is no future for us. We’ve lost too many… Gods, I can still see Meffrid with that woman standing over him… They’ve ripped the heart out of us, General. They’ve broken us. Our fight is over. I’ll always hate them with every fibre of my being. For what they took from us, then and now. Our homeland… our freedom… our bloody children…”
He looked so crushed, so hopeless. Achiyo looked at him and found it a depressingly familiar look. She had been misled, by Eorzea’s victory over the Empire in La Noscea, Thanalan, and the Shroud nearly two years ago, to think that it might be so easy to drive them out here too. But Eorzea had not been conquered, had hope and determination and organization. Here in Ala Mhigo, the eyes of the people asked “what makes you different from all the rest who’ve tried?” and sometimes their mouths did too. She felt almost guilty, that she had exhorted them to hope once again. She had believed they were different, with the Alliance at her back…
“It’d be easy to curse them and call them traitors, but they’re our children,” he said. “Our flesh and blood! If the only way to forge the future we want is to cut down our own, then… And when Zenos comes back with his army? What then? This isn’t the first time, you know. You’ll be hard-pressed to find men brave or stupid enough to face him again.”
Everyone was silent. Achiyo felt in her bones that she would face him again. She would have to. But who would face him if she were not on hand when he arrived?
“Then what was it all for!?” M’naago burst out. She had been more badly wounded, and she should not have been up yet. Rinala, Aentfryn, and Alphinaud had run dangerously low on mana just trying to save all those near death, and M’naago’s injuries had not placed her in that camp at least. “What will you say to the families of the fallen – to the mothers and the widows and the orphans? Will you tell them it was all for nothing!?”
“Naago…” Lyse said.
“Listen to the girl,” Raubahn said. “We dare not suffer our comrades’ sacrifices to have been in vain. Now is the time to steel our resolve and press on, painful though it may be.”
“I still can’t believe how strong he was,” Lyse said. “He humiliated us back there, even Achiyo. Gods help us if he’s next in line to the Garlean throne.”
“Loath though I am to say it, we should not be surprised,” Alphinaud said. “Before succeeding van Baelsar in Ala Mhigo, Zenos led the Imperial army to Doma, where he crushed the rebellion utterly. As a matter of fact, Doma remains in his charge to this day. Suffice it to say, Varis’s heir is a peerless warrior and an accomplished general. The question is, how are we to contend with such a foe?”
“Strike team,” Vivienne said. “I don’t care about fighting fair. Achiyo says he fights like a primal, we’ll kill him like a primal.”
“I know less than nothing about fighting a war,” Tam said. “But if we shouldn’t be surprised to take some losses, how come you’re all so surprised? It sounds like you just expected him to sit around and wait for us to come to him.”
“No,” Raubahn said. “But we trusted in the secrecy of the Reach. Too much, perhaps, and yet it is an ideal location. I do not think we will want to give it up even now – though we will have to relocate the main Resistance forces. To where…”
“Could use the Reach as a trap,” Chuchupa said. “‘Cept he prob’ly won’t do the same thing twice, that’d be dumb and ye said he ain’t.”
“I have an idea,” Aentfryn said. “Shite though it may be. Though first a question: why does he rule both Ala Mhigo and Doma? They are half a world apart.”
“The newest provinces, and the most likely to rebel, perhaps?” Alphinaud said. “What is your idea?”
“It’s pretty stupid,” Aentfryn said. “But he can’t be everywhere at once. We have to divide and conquer. If we draw him to Doma, he won’t be able to personally interfere with matters here.”
“Kindle the flames of revolution in Doma once more, and Zenos will be forced to fight a war on two fronts,” Alphinaud said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “It could work.”
“For that, there would need to be someone left to fight on this front by the time you got back,” Conrad said heavily. “Look, I’ll not deny the idea has promise – and I feel for our brothers and sisters in Doma, truly I do – but I fear we lack the strength to see it through.”
“Have faith in your people, Master Kemp,” Raubahn said. “Them and the Scions. Hold fast, rebuild, and when all is in place, we shall defeat Zenos together. Give us the time we need, and we will give you something far greater.”
“Very well,” Conrad said. “For all you have done for us, we will fight on. But be swift, comrades. Ala Mhigo has suffered enough.”
“I wish to speak a word of caution,” Achiyo said. This is a ridiculous idea. “We hardly know if this idea is feasible yet. It may not be our final course of action. But we will come up with something. The Empire will not win.”
Lyse turned to them. “If you’re going to Doma, I’m coming too. I want to help our friends there… and make sure nothing like this ever happens again.”
“You are most welcome,” Alphinaud said. “Achiyo is right, however. Let us go and discuss amongst ourselves.”
Raubahn gave them a briefing room in the Garlean fort, where they could sit in a circle and talk, the eight Warriors of Light, Lyse, Alphinaud, and Lilidi; there was a magitek screen on one side of the room, but they ignored it. Kekeniro got out extra paper and passed it out to everyone with pens. “Take notes, every idea counts right now.”
“So this is purely a Scion endeavour, correct?” Vivienne said, ignoring her paper. Kekeniro laid it in front of her and left it. “We’re not getting back-up from the Alliance in Othard.”
Alisaie came bursting in, out of breath. “I was just checking on Y’shtola – she’s fine, at the moment, Krile’s still with her – and Raubahn said you had a scheme.” She glared at Alphinaud. “What are you up to this time?”
“It’s not my idea, this time,” Alphinaud protested. “Suffice it to say, we shall be attempting to weaken Zenos by igniting revolution in Doma as well as here, for as Aentfryn has said, he cannot be everywhere at once. He put down the rebellion there a few years ago, when Yugiri came to us with the Doman refugees, but perhaps it will not be so easy when he has Ala Mhigo to contend with as well.”
“That sounds far too much like wishful thinking,” Alisaie said, but sat down next to Lyse and accepted paper from Kekeniro.
Alphinaud nodded. “It goes without saying, but the Scions alone have not the strength to topple a provincial government, here or anywhere else. And I am quite certain the same can be said of the Doman Liberation Front. Nevertheless, we can but go and assess the situation for ourselves, and see what can be done. Lest you doubt what good we few can accomplish, I would remind you that my grandfather and his twelve disciples once journeyed to these lands to save Eorzea and her people from certain doom. And you know only too well how that tale ended – albeit at great cost. Our present mission may not be as monumental in scope, but it is no less important to the multitudes whom we would free from Imperial oppression – whom we will free.”
“All right,” Vivienne said, before Alphinaud could wax any more inspirational. “Then let’s talk first about how we get there.”
“Well, there’s one among us who’s actually made that journey,” Tam said, pointing at Achiyo.
She rose to her feet uncertainly. She was not sure her limited experience would be of much help. “I was not in a hurry at the time, and the weather, I am told, was not safe for sailing the entire way in one trip at that time of year. I sailed from Kugane to Radz-at-Han, where I stayed a couple moons over the winter, before finding further passage to Limsa Lominsa. I was told that a fast ship can make the trip in two moons… with favourable winds.”
“That would be ideal,” Kekeniro said. “We’ve already been in Ala Mhigo an entire moon. Is the weather currently good for it?”
“I knew I shoulda commissioned me new ship last year,” Chuchupa muttered, then spoke up. “It’s fair as ye’ll get, though there’s a risk of running into summer calms.”
“I see,” Kekeniro said. “That’s an important consideration. We might have things we need to tie up here before heading away for a long time, and if we have better wind later, then we will spend less time overall doing nothing, even if we get there at the same time as otherwise.”
“Well, what is there to wrap up?” Lyse asked.
“Well… I’ve been looking into an Allagan mystery…” Kekeniro said. “But I don’t know when that would be finished. I’ll ask Y’mhitra to put it on hold.”
“We should tell her that her sister’s injured,” Lilidi said to him. “She might want to come and help.”
“Good idea,” Kekeniro said, noting it down.
Aentfryn shrugged. “I’ve been helping Alka Zolka again, but it’s nothing that can’t survive without me.”
Alisaie suddenly looked at Tam. “Will you be all right, on a ship for two moons?”
Tam shrugged. “I will actually be more or less fine as long as I’m on a deck. In the middle of the deck, preferably. And if we don’t have to fight. Leviathan was torture for me, as you know, but on a large enough ship with no emergencies, I shouldn’t have a panic attack more than twice a day. I’m more concerned about the lack of solitude.”
“Twice a day!?” R’nyath said. “Hm, I wonder if I have a bard song that can help with that…”
“And I guess we can Teleport back if we have to,” Rinala said. “Or Return, that would probably be more reliable from a world away. So you don’t have to sail back, at least. Do they have aetherytes in Othard, Achiyo?”
“Yes,” she said, smiling; that, at least, she knew. “We call them tenkonto.”
“Next question,” Vivienne said. “Achiyo, you were in Doma. Before the rebellion, true. But what was it like then?”
A thousand images flashed before her eyes, and for a moment she found herself unable to speak.
“I can see it causes you pain to remember,” Alphinaud said. “You never speak of your past, and I imagine with good reason. But we should not ask if it were not important to us.”
She let out a deep breath; he was right. “…I do not know how to sum up. Rife with injustice. The people are afraid, and with good reason. Much like it is in Ala Mhigo, they are exploited nigh to slavery, and if any dare speak out, they risk unspeakable punishment. Fighting back was not possible. I wanted to… I was young and passionate, and I wanted to right the wrongs I saw… but if I had tried, I would have been dead a long time ago.” She closed her mouth abruptly and stared at the wall to prevent herself from being overwhelmed.
“Not promising,” R’nyath said, his chin in his hands. “But like Alphinaud said, all we can do is go have a look. I mean, Yugiri and Gosetsu are already there.”
“It’s a pretty expensive look, in both cost and time,” Aentfryn said. “Do we have any other options, before we commit to such a foolhardy enterprise?”
They did not – though Vivienne still seemed to think that assassinating Zenos wasn’t out of the question. But she was outvoted by people who wanted to go find Yugiri and Gosetsu. Achiyo remained silent.
“So we’re going by sea after all,” Alisaie said, as they walked down the docks in Limsa Lominsa several days later. Achiyo was feeling much better after a few more days to recover, and to become partially reconciled to the idea of returning to Doma. The sea breeze certainly brought her new hope, and to see the beautiful blue of the sea and sky, dotted with white wavecaps and clouds respectively. “Is Merlwyb lending us our pick of the Crimson Fleet?”
“Not… exactly,” Alphinaud said hesitantly. “You are right, in as much as we will be travelling by sea. Regrettably, it is simply not feasible for an airship to travel such a distance without impossibly large fuel reserves, to say nothing of the inevitability of running afoul of the Empire’s aerial defences. …But then it is equally infeasible to sail an Eorzean Alliance vessel halfway around the world without the Empire taking notice. Which leaves us with only one other option… Ah, speak of the devil.”
Tataru – who had also volunteered to come – came trotting up to them, all bubbly smiles. “Sorry to keep you waiting! May I present to you Captain Carvallain of the Kraken’s Arms!”
“Hoi, Carvallain,” said Chuchupa cheerily.
“I hope you are well, Captain Carvallain,” Achiyo said more politely. Thanks to Chuchupa’s influence, she was on speaking terms with most of the prominent pirate captains.
“The Kraken’s Arms!?” said Alisaie less cheerily and politely. “Don’t tell me you made a deal with pirates!”
Carvallain bowed with a raised eyebrow. “Greetings and salutations, Scions. Chuchupa, you scoundrel. A pleasure as always, Lady Achiyo. I take it from your comrade’s tone that you no longer wish to proceed with our proposed arrangement?”
“Not at all, Captain,” Alphinaud said smoothly, smiling graciously. “Pray forgive my sister her outburst – she has ever been one to speak her mind. I, on the other hand, am the very soul of discretion, as many well-respected personages would attest, from the offices of the Admiral, to the High Houses of Ishgard.” He laid a hand on his heart earnestly. “Ah, but where was I? Oh, yes! The Scions of the Seventh Dawn do indeed still wish to employ your services. However, it is important that you are aware of certain extenuating circumstances…” Alphinaud quickly laid out their situation.
“…And intent on securing passage to the Far East, you came to us, knowing us to be the proud purveyors of said region’s finest spices,” Carvallain summarized.
“…Which you steal from gods-fearing merchants out on the high seas,” Alisaie muttered.
Carvallain quirked an eyebrow at her again. “Whatever privateering the Kraken’s Arms may or may not engage in is strictly within the limits of the law, as set forth by our indefatigable keeper of the peace. More to the point, we are pragmatists. I see considerable risk in aiding your cause, and negligible profit.”
Tataru turned to the others. “Well, I for one think the captain has a point. The five seas can be extremely treacherous, and many a poor, unfortunate soul has come to grief out there on the waves. Why, when we were in Ishgard, I heard the tragical tale of how the heir to House Durendaire vanished at sea! The poor little boy had only seen fourteen summers when he left Ishgard. Can you imagine what it must have felt like – to finally be free to explore the world, unbeholden to all the stuffy traditions of the Holy See?” She winked at the Scions. “Such a shame that he never returned home. Even now, nearly twenty years later, the poor count remains convinced that his son still lives, and would pay a sultan’s ransom for news of his whereabouts…”
Achiyo blinked at Tataru. Surely she couldn’t mean…
Carvallain merely laughed. And laughed… “Truly a tragedy for the ages, and a testament to the misfortunes that may befall us should we act without… due consideration. But so long as you are prepared to abide the capricious whims of fate, I am willing to oblige you this once. That said, in light of the recent rebellion, I trust you understand that I cannot deliver you to Doma itself. I can take you only as far as Kugane, in Hingashi.”
“That will be more than sufficient,” Achiyo said. “I know Kugane; I set out from there when I came to Eorzea.”
He nodded to her. “We will require time to procure sufficient provisions and make ready for departure. I humbly suggest you do the same.”
Achiyo entered the training yard at the Congregation of Our Knights Most Heavenly, directed there by Handeloup and escorted by Syndael, and looked about for Aymeric. The yard was an orderly buzz of noise; instructors calling directions, knights sparring with sword and spear or doing drills or simply working out, and the zip of arrows from the archery range. She did not miss the murmur that ran around the yard at her appearance, before the officers told their knights sharply to focus on their duties and not the Silver Lady. Flattering, that her presence still caused such a stir. Though perhaps the attention was partly because with her breastplate still off being repaired again, she was not as silver as she usually was.
She felt completely herself again in Ishgard, to feel the strength of her stones, to be surrounded by her tall knights. She would keep their pride close at hand while she was in Othard; she would need it if things were as she expected them to be.
Aymeric was over with the archers, and she admired him as she approached – his posture, his strength, his focus – while trying not to be obvious that she was admiring him, not while others were certainly observing her. His piercing blue eyes as he stared down the target over his arrows, a subtle flexing in his neck as he drew and released, the way the light caught his hair, his cheekbones…
“Lord Commander!” Syndael hailed him between arrows, and Aymeric took a moment to disengage himself from his concentration – but as he turned and saw them, he brightened immediately.
“Ah, Ser Syndael, Lady Achiyo. What an unexpected pleasure. What do you need of me? What is the news from Gyr Abania?”
Syndael gestured at Achiyo, bowed, and took his leave. She shook her head ruefully and spoke in a low voice; the Temple Knights did not need to hear this yet. “Very ill.” She handed him a written report from Alphinaud. “So poor, in fact, that most of the Scions are about to embark upon a journey halfway across Hydaelyn to see what might be done to aid them from elsewhere. I do not know how long we might be away… I am here to obtain some supplies and gear – and to inform you personally.”
“’Tis an honour that you would come yourself,” he said. “When do you leave, then?”
“Tomorrow from Limsa Lominsa with the first tide,” she answered.
He started, eyes wide. “So soon!? Is there aught else I might do to help?”
“I believe I have it in hand,” she said. “Thank you.”
“At least come over for dinner tonight,” he said. “Even if it’s only you and me. Won’t you?”
She felt a blush rising uncontrolled to her cheeks and hoped no one noticed. “I-I would be pleased to. I have the time, I think.” She could not deny that she had secretly hoped for that, although it must be an imposition on his time.
“Then I will finish my work here as swiftly as I may. I’ll make up for it later. You will be in the Crozier, I presume?” He beckoned a subordinate and handed off his bow, then gestured to her, escorting her back out of the training yard.
“Yes, I will be there.” She needed tea for the voyage.
“Then I will find you there, in perhaps two bells.”
Though first she went to Fortemps Manor, to also inform Artoirel and Lord Edmont that she would be away for so long, and to collect yet another shield and repaired breastplate. She really needed to not get into a habit of damaging those. Years, she had had her original gear, and now twice in so many moons they had been destroyed. But she had not fought primals before coming to Eorzea. “‘Tis a two-moon voyage at least simply to come to Kugane, so I cannot predict when I shall return.”
“We shall miss you, little sister,” Artoirel said. “I shall ask the chef at once to prepare a finer meal than usual…”
“I have already accepted an invitation from Aymeric-sama for dinner,” she said regretfully.
“Ah,” Artoirel said, and looked slyly at her.
That even he would tease her thus! “Onii-sama, do not tease me so! I have had enough of that from my companions.”
“My lady protests so much,” Artoirel said, and she set her dignity and stared at him disapprovingly, for he was still teasing – and really, after everything that had happened recently, she was not in the mood for it. He bowed. “Forgive me. I wish you all the pleasure of his company. Will you write to us? If you have the time?”
“I shall try,” she said. She did not know if the moogle post extended to the far side of the world; she had certainly not seen moogles as a girl, and had had no one to write to back then. “Thank you for all your kindness. I tell you already I shall be glad to return.” Truly, she didn’t even want to go in the first place.
“I hope there is pleasure too in returning to your homeland,” Lord Edmont said. “I know you go for a grave cause, yet there must be places and people you will be glad to see again.”
“I will not deny I am looking forward to eating true Eastern food again very much,” she admitted with a smile that only felt a little forced. “Thank you. Give my farewells to Emmanellain and Honoroit.”
“Go in safety, and may the Fury watch over you.”
Dinner was lovely, as it always was at Borel Manor, yet she found herself more and more subdued, despite her earlier, lighter parting from the Fortemps family. She did not want to talk about Zenos’s attack, of her injury, of Y’shtola’s wound, of those they had lost. She felt her dress was awkward, for she had had no time to change properly and so she had only taken off her armour so that she was in her gambeson. He probably did not care what she wore at this stage, but he had done the same in solidarity, appearing in a black gambeson as hers was off-white. The servants had left them, and it was just the two of them now.
She had explained the plan to Aymeric, and now she wanted to seize this moment, to talk gracefully of inconsequential things, to take both their minds off the heavy weight of the nations they were carrying… yet she could not find words to say. Her mind was blank and her tongue numb.
His eyes spoke concern, but he was slow to speak on it himself. No doubt he only thought she was worried for the double revolution Alphinaud was proposing, of the weariness and heartache inflicted by the defeat they’d suffered. So for a while, he tried, he tried most earnestly, to carry the conversation, and she tried so hard to respond, but every smile was a strain and every word felt coerced from inanity.
At length, he conceded defeat and struck straight to the heart. “What fear ails you, Achiyo?”
She paused, looking down at her hands, trying to sum up her answer into words. Trying not to instead concentrate on burning his saying of her plain name into memory.
“You needn’t answer if-” he began.
“You should-” she began, accidentally interrupting, then stopping again, because yes, he should have an answer, but more than that… “I do not talk about my past very much.” She saw him sit up straight, eyes wide, but she could not meet his gaze, not yet. More shame for her. “I hardly know where to start, yet… know this, that I have no wish to return to Doma. I left for reasons that felt true at the time, and yet… I was also simply running away.”
“You do not need to tell me if it pains you so,” he said softly, unknowing that his very patience and gentleness was nudging her further towards an unbecoming display of emotions.
She glanced up at him, but could not hold his gaze for long. “I… think I want to. If that is not… unwelcome…”
“Please,” he said at once. “Tell me whatever you wish.”
Words still came slow, but she decided… she would begin at the beginning. The whole story would be his. She had never told anyone much of it before, not even Lord Edmont, unwilling to burden them with it, to make them feel sorry for her as they probably would, unwilling to make herself remember, but… she trusted him. He would not pity her. For once, she wanted to tell someone and best it were someone she loved, no matter if she could not tell him that. And that he so eagerly offered to share the burden, even when he didn’t know what it was… it was a little bit of a relief to her. He was the best of men – the best of friends. “I was born to a Hingan samurai, Kensaki no Tamehiro, and his wife Ayame, who administered a small village in the mountains. They were… Bandits attacked them when they were returning from a trip to Bukyo, the capital, and they were both slain. The bugyo immediately handed my father’s lands to someone else to administrate, and I… was… abandoned.” That wasn’t quite the word for it, but it summed it up.
She sensed him swallowing back feelings before he asked: “How old were you?”
“I had eight summers,” she said, and saw anger cross his face. “It is not so uncommon. In Hingashi, one’s family is everything. ‘Tis why we traditionally speak our names with the family name first. Orphans are of no use to our society, if they cannot find any relative to support them. It does not often happen in a samurai’s family, but… They held me in custody just long enough to make a cursory search, but my father was an only child and my mother’s family… could not be found. So they let me go.”
“It happens here, as well,” he said. “I myself might have suffered the same fate had my mother not been acquainted with my adopted parents. But… a child of eight… I cannot comprehend such cruelty, anywhere it might happen.” He shook his head.
“A girl-child of eight, especially a noble one, is quite useless,” she said, amazed how steady her voice was holding. She might have had a better chance if she had been born in the city as he had been. Those long, rainy autumn days, barefoot, her yukata torn and muddy, so hungry she could hardly stand, yet not knowing how to beg… missing the affection of her parents, the comforts of her home and nurse, mourning her incomprehensible loss, scavenging for scraps like an animal, and seeing everyone turn away from her as if she didn’t exist anymore… the carefully-buried memories threatened to burst over her and bring her story to a close before it even began. “And while even a delicate, useless, abandoned child like I was might have brought the village some money from being sold to a Bukyo okiya…” She did not translate the word so that she did not have to see him tense with anger again, but she could see he was already angry at the idea she might be sold like livestock. “But someone had pity on me.”
She had to take a deep breath. Aymeric was motionless, riveted. “An ijin wanderer, a foreigner, broke up the sale and took me away from them. He… was not of a mind to suddenly play father to a helpless young girl, yet he did – though he never let me call him father, even when he became… more dear to me. He was the only person who showed me kindness in that time. His name was Percival Byers, and he was the one who taught me to fight.”
“An Eorzean?” he asked, surprised, then smiled self-deprecatingly. “Forgive me, I should not be surprised. The way you fight… I had long wondered who taught you. Why was he in Othard?”
“He left Gridania to forget something, or someone, I think, and what or who, he never quite told me. I think there was someone he loved who died, and a terrible situation that burdened him with great guilt, and he went as far away as possible, and kept moving once he came there. I think, when I let myself reflect, that I did the same thing… but I am getting ahead of myself. So… Percival taught me to fight, to read and write, to speak Eorzean; he defended me, provided for me, while he wandered Hingashi looking for work as a mercenary. He endured much in my defence; many people thought he had kidnapped me, when the exact opposite was the truth. I do not know how he made it into the country in the first place… but at length, he grew weary and after an… incident that threatened my safety, we went to Doma. I was… I believe I had fifteen summers at the time. It was difficult to keep track of time.”
“I understand,” he said.
She stalled with a drink to soothe her voice. She did not normally talk this much, even on lighter matters. “At length, he came to Kaien-sama’s court. He never hid who I was nor who my family had been, and… well… it came to pass that while he went to work for Kaien-sama, I was trained in etiquette befitting my heritage by the women of the court.” She paused, and wrinkled her nose. “If I had been a little older or less pretty, they might not have bothered, but a young, pretty, impressionable girl of good breeding might make a good wife for someone, or at least a good concubine, though I had no money or connections, so they gave me their charity. I accepted it, to honour my parents, but I was determined I would not be traded like goods again, even in the most socially acceptable way. I rejected every suitor.” She remembered Kawanami and his shock that his riches held no appeal to her – her, the homeless orphan girl, who should be glad to have a safe home, any material wish fulfilled, all in exchange for her undeserved beauty! She snorted a bitter laugh. Aymeric was still motionless, stoic, listening intently.
Ah, well, she was begun, and even if he was upset with her for telling him all this tragic tale, she would at least try to finish the story. “I believe I was eighteen when I had my fill and Percival rescued me again, from that life. By then, he’d earned enough that I could have my own armour, my own weapons, and thus I could reliably fight at his side. And then… I truly saw Doma, and what the Empire had wrought of it.”
“You need not say more,” he said, for she was bracing herself against what she must say next.
“I’m nearly done.”
“Achiyo,” he pleaded. “Do not torment yourself so. I know enough now.”
“Then I will not describe what I saw, what I… did. But this was until two, three years ago… and I heard from Yugiri, when she came, that it has only grown… worse, far worse, since the failed rebellion.” She choked a little. “I had seen hints of it at court, the unease, the fear, half-hidden behind aristocratic masks and the excess of what wealth remained in Doma. Those who said the wrong thing disappeared without trace. But the people… ordinary people… What I saw in Gyr Abania is like to it. The empty despair of a people with no hope for rescue, and no strength to save themselves, who have spent years in surviving each day without joy, only wishing not to be hurt more than they already endure. Forced to cooperate with occupation, to submit to the greatest of injustices, lest by dissent all suffer even more.” Oh, the capacity people had for cruelty was surely too great! It was hard, in those moments, to remember their even greater capacity for love. She glanced up at him for a brief moment. “’Tis one reason why I have come to love Ishgard: your people have been at war for a thousand years… but they were never broken. They grew weary and sad, cold and harsh, but they never lost their pride, their defiance, their freedom. Gyr Abania, Doma… no longer have that flame. And… to go back…”
She stopped, swallowing her feelings hard. To see it in Gyr Abania had been difficult enough. To go back to what she had grown up with, and see it worse… To see the people she had failed and run from… The lifeless eyes of the living haunted her. Unable to truly see or hear the world around them, they had been indifferent to her and her youthful emotions that she had not been able to control or hide as well as she did now; they were filled with a deep and abiding desolation that was like a poison. Percival – Tousan, though he never let her call him that – had built her up in his unexpressive, pragmatic way, teaching her that she was loved, that she should love herself, that even should she not find joy in life there, she should not break under it. And she had not. She had not made it through her tale, but she had told enough.
“You saved us,” he said softly, leaning forward to speak yet more earnestly. “’Tis an honour to know we inspired you, yet you are strong, you have hope! To know what you endured from your earliest years and yet overcame to become the incredible person you are now is to know that you will save them as you saved us. When I was filled with despair you believed in me and drew me through the darkness, a shining beacon of light, and in our most desperate hours you did not hesitate to protect us all. You will do it again for them and return even stronger for it. I believe it with all my heart.”
She looked up and met his eyes, and saw something there that she dared not name, but there was true and fervent belief as he said, trust, and care, and all of it directed at her with all of his will. And she felt it, and it smote her to the heart – many worried about her, or wished her well, and she appreciated them, but few cared, like this, and dared to show it so openly.
The dam burst, despite her efforts. His kind words, his poignant look had completely undone her. She broke for the first time in years, grabbing hastily at the linen serviette to hide her tears.
Aymeric gasped, rising with a clatter as he jolted the table in his haste. Before she could process what he was doing, he was around the table and at her side, kneeling beside her chair, and he hesitated only a brief moment before reaching out to gently embrace her, calling her name as she turned a little away to hide herself. She could not stop – indeed, his affection and concern only encouraged the tide even as it had launched it, and she hid shamefully behind the serviette. The embrace grew closer, and he gently pulled her from the chair to rest in his lap, her head cradled against his chest, serviette and all.
“Forgive me,” he said, his voice deep and soothing. “I did not mean to overwhelm you…”
“No, it is my…” she gasped out. “F-forgive me, I- this is unbecoming-” She was more worn out than she thought, physically and emotionally, from everything, to lose control so. She had thought she could make it without collapsing like a… like a weak child as she had once been. Unlike the high-born warrior she was supposed to be.
“Please, think naught of it,” he said to her, and she could not have thought his embrace could grow more tender, his voice softer, but they did, his fingertips sliding against her long, straight hair. “You are too much put upon. There is nothing to fear here. No one can see, and I give you my word I will not tell a soul of anything that transpired here. Please, Achiyo… permit yourself this.”
She was tired, and nearly surrendered, but she would not let herself cry further before him despite his words, not now, not when she had to leave him for moons – mayhap years, she could not say how fate might twist or when they might meet again. No matter how comforting it was to have arms about her like she had not had in many long years, that she trusted no one else now to hold her like he was, that this closeness felt as natural as her heartbeat. So she breathed, dabbed the remaining tears away, and sat up, though his arms did not slacken about her. “I am recovered, now.” She forced herself to look in his eyes, pride and etiquette and her lie all driving her, but all she saw there was anxious concern. He didn’t believe her in this, and she did not blame him. She’d stumbled – and yet better before him than anyone else.
“Will Percival be there when you return?” he asked, trying to give her some hope.
A worthy effort, but futile. “Percival saved me one last time about four years ago, from bandits. He died like my parents so that I might live. And I ran… I ran like a c-coward… b-because he told me to.” She swallowed hard and another tear escaped her desperate grip. Her tears had withered after Percival was buried. Was this part of coming back to life? And then she had seen his face again, but younger, in the Warrior of Darkness. So strange… and it had hurt in ways she did not know how to describe.
“Then you came to Eorzea…”
“I tried to go on without him. I knew nothing of the world outside Doma, and was afraid to learn. I buried him; I tracked down his killers and had my revenge; I tried to continue as we had before, alone. But eventually… I had to leave, or I would have died from despair.” She steadied her breathing again. “I had always wanted to come, since I was young, and more when I grew older. We could have fought the Empire openly here. But Percival couldn’t leave Doma… Eorzea has been good to me, despite its problems. I am glad I came. I am glad I came to Ishgard. She rekindled my life.”
He gave her a tiny smile, and that freed her from her tension the way his words could not. “I am glad you came as well. I do not think you were running away.”
“I disagree,” she said, “for if I had been truly strong at that time, I should have stayed, and lived. There were many who could still have used my help.” If she had been in the failed revolution, would she have been able to help it to succeed, or would she have died there uselessly?
The arms about her tightened, just a little, his expression distressed. “You have never not been strong, I promise you. I understand why you would not wish to return. Yet I also know you will go, because they asked it of you, because they need you, and you will be able to overcome your grief and pain, because you are the strongest person I know.”
Tears were prickling the back of her eyes again, and she desperately wanted to interrupt, but he continued, ruthlessly compassionate. “For you will not be alone. I would to Heaven I could go with you, but you will have the Warriors of Light, and you will have the Scions, and they will not let you be lonely again.”
It was the truth. She had so many friends now. She could say nothing, only swallow her tears and stare, caught in the intensity of his belief.
The intensity melted into a sheepish smile. “Er… would you like to finish dinner, or shall we read a bit more before you go back?”
Listening to him read would relax her, and she had eaten sufficiently. She definitely needed a sharp turn away from these emotionally heavy topics. “I should like to continue the story, if you would be so kind. I… fear to fall asleep here and miss the ship on the morrow, but… I would like that.”
“Then it shall be done,” he said gallantly as she stood, releasing her from his arms.
Tonight, as he placed himself at the end of the long sofa in his sitting room, he gestured that she should sit – not on the armchair next to him, as she had always done before, but beside him on the same sofa. How bold… and yet she took the invitation. Nothing inappropriate would happen, neither of them were the type… and with such a long separation looming ahead of them, perhaps he wished to be close to her as she wished to be close to him.
His soft, unhurried voice began to read the old tale, and she listened to the Old Ishgardian words and let the meanings speak through the Echo to her heart… The sofa was very soft, and she could feel herself falling asleep, but even if she closed her eyes for a few moments… that would be all right… wouldn’t it…?
It was not long before he felt a slight thump against his arm, and looked down to find that Achiyo had fallen asleep against him. A fond smile spread across his face, joy in his heart that she would trust him so closely, let down her guard so greatly as to fall asleep next to him. Though after her confessions to him over dinner, it also increased his concern. It was still the seventh bell after noon, rather early to fall asleep, especially in summer when it was hardly dark out. Surely she was very tired from her recent exertions, especially fighting Prince Zenos himself, and she was about to embark on an even greater quest on the morrow, one that held far too much meaning and past grief for her. And if Achiyo were this weary, how fared the other Warriors of Light, the other Scions? There was so much on her slender shoulders; he doubted she’d told him half of what she daily endured, either from pride or from self-effacement, or both. But in a way, she was returning home, despite the pain it caused her, and that would give her strength in its own way, wouldn’t it? He could do little enough about it, except let her rest a short while in the warmth and safety of his home.
If only she could stay! If only she could give up being a Warrior of Light and live for herself, though she would never admit to wanting that, not when she could help them. If only he could help her find the happiness she deserved – that anyone and everyone deserved, but her most of all – if only, if only. To see her weep… he hated to feel so helpless, seeing such a strong person falter after relating such merciless memories. He wished he could protect her. Against injury, against sadness, against fate.
At least now he knew why she had that tragic air that had first enticed him over a year and a half ago. And it no longer enticed him, knowing what true grief it was founded upon. To see her happy in spite of it, that was what drew him now. He would move heaven and earth to make her happy… though his hands were often bound, and she was the one who moved all…
He put the book down and picked up the one he was currently engaged in reading for himself. It would not be right to continue with the story when she wasn’t conscious to hear it.
She felt something move under her shoulder, and woke with a start, realizing she’d fallen asleep against Aymeric’s arm, that he’d just been moving to put said arm around her- “Gomen nasai– Ah, I beg your pardon-”
“Shhh,” was all he said, his arm descending around her shoulders, halting her half-panicked sleep-befuddled rising and tucking her comfortably against his side. “Stay and rest a while.”
“A little while,” she murmured, but found her eyes closing again as he read his own book. He was warm and solid, his arm heavy and comforting. The rhythm of his breathing, as his chest rose and fell beside her, would soon lull her again. She did not like to be touched by just anyone, but she had wanted to be close to him for a long time.
It’s improper to be this close to a man in his home, alone, her conscience and tutoring told her. Yet she found she couldn’t care. He smelled of pines and steel and chocobo and sweat, from this close, and in her tired state it gave her great pleasure to simply breathe him in. She was glad for these small kindnesses; she felt much more at ease now, at least in living in the present moment, and in contemplation of the mission coming.
But at length… she stirred. “I really ought to return to Limsa Lominsa. It won’t do to sleep here.”
“I have rooms enough that you might, if you wished,” Aymeric said, looking down at her, putting his book down.
A voice in her head that sounded like R’nyath’s inquired whether those rooms might be his. She ignored it sternly. “I dare not. It would be dreadful to be late tomorrow. But I have very much enjoyed this time. It was… good to see you again, before I went.”
“Achiyo… …I beg your pardon.” With only that warning, he turned and scooped her into his arms, into his lap, and she gasped and straightened, and braced her hands against his chest, because she had not been expecting that. Nor was she complaining. “Achiyo, you will… return, will you not?”
“Y-yes…?” She certainly wasn’t sleepy now! But she didn’t understand what he was saying – or at least, she didn’t want to jump to conclusions. She knew quite well what he was really saying. He was not afraid that she should fall in battle, or at least that was not his question now, nor did he fear her homeland would seduce her into staying forever. “Aymeric-sama…”
His pale blue eyes, so close to her now, blinked in slight disappointment. His eyelashes were short and straight and delicate. “Please, just Aymeric.”
“A-Aymeric.” Her tongue still did not want to cooperate, but if he was this close, they were definitely past honorifics and it would just have to learn to accept it. “Yes, I will return. I am looking forward to seeing Hingashi, even to seeing Doma again, despite my fears, yet… Ishgard has enthralled my heart. Has welcomed me despite my race, has given me a true home in Eorzea.” I will return to you. Have no fear.
He closed his eyes in that way he did when he was thinking hard. She was not prepared for them to open again, fixed on her with such intensity she found herself without breath. “Perhaps it is best to simply say what I mean. I know this is hardly a good time… mayhaps even a bad time to speak. But. Achiyo… I love you.”
Her heart was pounding, she was breathless and speechless. She stared at him, into his eyes, wondering how he could be so calm, and felt the answer under her palms. He was far from calm, though his gaze was steady as a rock. But his heart was racing, too.
“Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”
His words were almost too soft to hear, yet she heard them with all her heart. “Aymeric… it is I whom you honour. And I accept, joyfully. For I-I love you too.”
“Achiyo.” The incredulous joy on his face was like the rising sun, making him nearly too beautiful to behold.
“Aymeric,” she answered. How she loved his name!
His arms adjusted closer around her, and her arms slipped up and around his broad shoulders. “May I…?” he asked in a whisper, his eyes on her lips. She gave the tiniest of nods, overwhelmed by his proximity, and he leaned in, eyes closing.
The gentle touch on her mouth thrilled her, the sound and brush of his breath on her face, the warmth of his lips, his body, his arms. He drew back slightly after a long moment. “Have you never been kissed before?” He sounded awed and curious.
She lowered her gaze modestly. “No… never. It is uncommon in Hingashi and Doma, and as I said, I rejected all my suitors.” Here in Eorzea she’d seen it with what she’d thought indecent frequency. But having experienced it… she wanted more, much more.
“You are not… offended?”
“No?” She peered up at him quizzically, almost coy. Daring him to do it again, for she was not yet certain of initiating it herself.
He seemed breathless a moment, lost in her eyes, then blinked and recovered himself. “Then…” He leaned in once more and kissed her, more firmly, tilting his head to get closer to her yet cautious of her horns, and she found herself helplessly swept away in a wave of yearning. Yearning to stay, to be safe here forever in his arms, to forget all her worries and responsibilities, to learn more of this new pleasure. How this evening had turned!
He showered her with kisses upon kisses, rolling one into the next; time seemed both to stand still and race on. She pulled him closer, threading her fingers into his thick dark hair as she had so often wished to do, and felt rather than heard his pleased gasp. Her heart and hands were trembling; her tail slowly coiled around his leg and he full-on moaned, sending a jolt through her from top to bottom. To think that he loved her so much, that he was so affected by her – well, she was affected by him equally.
And yet… she was a responsible adult, and had things to worry about. When next he released her mouth, she drew back enough to speak, though she was distracted by his kiss-reddened lips, his blushing cheeks, sparkling eyes, the way he caught his breath. “My conscience pricks me,” she said slowly, and he looked at her with concern. “I must remind you that there is another, who has stood by you for far longer than I… I wish her no pain, and yet she will be hurt.”
His gaze fell. “I know. And I love her… yet not as I love you.”
Her heart jumped yet again at that word, that word so rarely spoken to her, and never with such meaning as when he said it, yet she continued. “And your people… I am a samurai’s daughter, and they know me as one of the Slayers of Nidhogg, a Warrior of Light, and who knows what else besides… I have earned respect, I am your equal, yet I am most certainly not of Ishgard; will choosing me not cause problems for you?” She just knew her own people would have made a fuss if their positions were reversed, no matter his qualities or achievements.
He shook his head a little. “There is no possible reasonable objection anyone could make. I cannot say that everyone will accept my- our choice with complete joy, or even equanimity, but that at least does not frighten me.”
“Nor I.”
“I am glad. As for Lucia… I will tell her what has transpired.”
“I do not envy you,” she said.
His answering smile was wry. “Would you like to trade?”
“I do not think your people would look well upon me trying to guide them… nor upon you abandoning them for a sojourn on the other side of the star. And Lucia would instantly leave to be at your side… though perhaps not without duelling me to the death, first.”
He smiled ruefully, because he knew it to be true. “You have the right of it. Well, I must accept my fate.”
They talked now, between kisses, in whispers, of so many things. There seemed a thousand things to speak of now, questions, answers, tiny confessions, and general mutual adoration. “When did you first know you loved me?” he asked.
She blushed. “I cannot say ‘the moment we met’. No one can know another’s quality from the first moment, and so I did not know your kindness, your courage, your integrity – though you showed it soon after. But at the moment we met, I could not think for admiration.”
“I confess to being rather the same,” he said. “Haurchefant warned me you were beautiful; he did not warn me you were fascinating as well. It took some time to feel that I knew you – you never reveal your true self easily. Yet between your stunning eyes and your noble bravery, from the very start it was a straight, clean shot to falling helplessly in love. And the first time I heard you laugh… Oh, how my heart sang to hear it!”
She was going to bleed from the nose from blushing in embarrassment if he kept this up. “I find it difficult to show my true feelings openly. Between my training telling me a noblewoman must ever be gracious no matter what, and the problems that my feelings caused me on my travels, it was easier to lock them away and now I do not know how to unlock them.”
“They are precious to me,” he whispered. “Your smiles, your frowns, your tears – though, Fury be kind, the future will only grant you smiles from now on. But I want to see it all.” He ran his broad hand through her hair, tucking it behind her ear, touching her scaled cheek, and she felt the callouses on his fingertips. “You will be gone so long… I will not see your smiles, your eyes…”
“I will miss you terribly,” she said, pressing closer to him. “But I am glad you spoke tonight. The distance will be tempered with surety.”
“You speak only truth,” he said, and kissed her again. At the end of it, he seemed to remember something. “I have gifts for you.”
She blinked in surprise. “Oh?”
He reached into his pocket and withdrew a delicate spray of pink and white: a hairpin of silk sakura blossoms, adorned with gold. “I have been meaning to give this to you for moons – since the night Mistress Alisaie came to us wounded. But there was never the right time.”
She received it in both hands and suddenly found herself choking back tears again. “It is beautiful…”
“Do you not like it?” he asked anxiously.
“I like it very much!” she assured him. “Only… It is only that once, when I was a child, Percival gave to me a hairpin very similar… I buried it with him.”
His arms closed around her again and held her warmly, pulling her to rest her head on his shoulder. “I am sorry. I did not know it would cause you such pain.”
“You couldn’t know,” she said, mastering herself again. “It truly is beautiful and I shall treasure it just as much.” She reached up to pin it to her hairband, just where she had always had the old one.
“And here I was only thinking it was amusing that it has come all this way from Othard to Eorzea, and now it will go with you back to Othard.” He looked at her, adoring her. “It suits you as well as I hoped. Your beauty is beyond compare – though you did not need an ornament for that.”
“I am astonished at how well you chose for me,” she said. Sakura were her favourite flowers.
He chuckled a little. “My other gift is not so suited for you, but I must offer it anyway.” He held out his hand again, and in it was a silver ring with a large sapphire ringed with pearls. “Do the people of Othard have engagement rings?”
“Not as such,” she said. “But I have learned about them during my time in Eorzea. I accept it gladly.” It was rather ostentatious for her personal taste, and unlikely to fit under her combat gloves, but she could wear it in less dire straits, she supposed. And it was pretty understated for typical Ishgardian opulence.
“It belonged to my adopted mother,” he said. “I have nothing from my birth mother… but I would honour my adopted mother by giving this to you.”
“I see,” she said. “The colour reminds me of you.” She let him slip it onto her finger and found it fit very well – either Aymeric’s adopted mother had had very small hands for an Elezen, or he’d had it resized based on knowledge of her hand obtained she knew not how. “When shall we wed?” she asked.
“Perhaps it is wishful thinking, but when the war is over?” His eyes were plaintive. “I would wish for a small, private ceremony, that would be easy to hold sooner rather than later, but even should a new Speaker to the House of Lords be elected in my place, I fear my status precludes that wish… With my obligations to Ishgard, and yours to all of Eorzea, I doubt the opportunity will arise before peace has been achieved with Garlemald. Though should it arise, you may be sure I will seize upon it and pray that fate does not have other ideas.”
She smiled. “I am content to wait.” Greatly daring, she reached up to kiss him, stroking his shining hair, and he embraced her eagerly.
“I wish I did not have to be,” he murmured, and she laughed softly. His mouth was warm and attentive, and the way he breathed, the way his arms held her close, everything told her his heart was aching for her as hers had been for him. And she hadn’t dared hope for half this much… and now she must leave for a while. At least she knew he would be thinking of her as she thought of him.
But though she might have gladly talked with him until dawn, for a week, forever, it was past the midnight bell when she drew away, sliding from his lap to stand – which placed her no taller in relation to him. “I would wish to stay longer, but the tide tomorrow will wait for no one, and I have already overstayed…” Vastly overstayed. She would only get a few hours of sleep, should she sleep at all.
“I know. Thank you.” He kissed her again, forehead, nose, and mouth, and released her from his arms. “Stay well, beloved. I will pray for your safe return.”
Author’s note: I wonder if Achiyo’s appeared to be the token stable one up until this point? Nah she desperately needs therapy too, and she’s probably ASD to boot but good luck getting a diagnosis in a high fantasy setting.
Percival having the same Derplander face as Ardbert/WoD is really just some jank lore I wrote before ShB came out. I figured, since the WoD is a mirror of the WoL, and my main WoL is definitely not a male Midlander, that there should still be some connection between Derplander and Achiyo. Percival does not actually share a soul with Ardbert, though. They just look the same. (It happens irl, people have found ‘twins’ whom they are absolutely not related to.)
Apologies to the folks who wanted to meet Percival – he’s been dead a while, which means, yes Achiyo’s a double orphan (tragic backstory clichés 50% off, apparently). But you can meet him when I post Achiyo’s backstory, after 4.0!