FFXIV writing side blog for my Warrior of Light Bellona Marcellus: A young deserter of the Garlean Empire who is just trying to make do the best she can with her new life in Eorzea. Follows, likes, and asks all come from igayorhm.
With the expansion coming within like two weeks it's time for me to update my tags. The following will be the major ones I'll be using on my posts. See my fellow early access peeps on June 28th!
Here’s to hoping Endwalker restarts my filthy shipper brain cause this blog has been dry and I need more inspiration to write Thancred and Bellona being idiots in love.
Since I’ll have Endwalker for Early Access I’m going to go ahead and drop my spoiler tags now. If you need to know about blocking tags you can check out tumblr’s neat filter feature to protect yourself from any spoilers
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/?
Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Warrior of Light/Thancred Waters, Aymeric de Borel/Warrior of Light, Aymeric de Borel/Thancred Waters
Characters: Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Thancred Waters, Aymeric de Borel
Additional Tags: Kinktober 2021, Flufftober 2021, Voyeurism, Masturbation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Summary:
A collection of various kinktober and flufftober prompt fills
Finally getting up the courage to participate publicly in kinktober
She could hear him grunt, could feel the shudder of pleasure pass through him. And could feel that same shudder pass through her. She bit her lip, letting out a moan.
“More.” She heard Ardbert whisper within her.
She could feel him—his very soul—tense and trembled as she slipped her fingers along her clit. Her fingers slowly delved between her folds; her breath hitched and she could feel Ardbert shiver within her again.
This was a new sensation for him. Foreign and different and yet not unpleasant—definitely not unpleasant. So she took it slow, not wanting to overwhelm either of them. What one felt, the other felt as well, amplifying every little sensation.
And Bellona found her entire body more sensitive; every touch was like a bolt of levin shooting through her. She could feel his lust burning under his skin—his arousal stoking her own. Building upon that salacious fire within her.
She whined, letting her other hand roam down her body. She palmed her breasts, fantasizing for a moment that it was Ardbert’s touch. That it was his calloused hands exploring her body, his mouth ravishing her where he pleased. Trailing down between her thighs, lips hovering just above...
“Bellona.” He moaned, his desire rippled through her. Hungry and urging. She was close—she was so close to the edge. He could feel it. “Wicked white…what I would give to actually have you.” His voice sounded as if it were right in her ear, husky and hot.
The confession made her body squirm in bed. Oh what she would give to actually feel him. Ardbert's lips wet with her taste, his cock hard and sheathing into her. His hands leaving behind bruises on her hips as he fucked her passionately.
She wanted to be at the mercy of that feral lust she could sense within him.
A shameless moan slipped from her as she thrust her hips against an unseen lover. Her fingers thrust quicker—deeper—chasing after release.
He moaned again, an attempt at her name that fell apart as she pushed closer to the edge. Oh gods.
"Ardbert…" She keened his name aloud. His lust burned within her now. She needed this—he needed this. They both needed it so badly.
The need, the yearning, the regret for not acting on old emotions. It was like a steady crescendo, she could feel it rising within her.
She wanted more than this, she wanted him here. And she could feel his own wanton need. His desire for release—his desire to have her. He whispered those lascivious wishes to her as she worked them both over the edge.
Her free hand desperately gripped the covers beneath her. Her hips rolled, wishing and yearning to feel his sturdy form there.
His orgasm slammed into her own; she could feel nothing—nothing but him. His warmth, his need, his lust, his climax. Entwining with her own and setting every ilm of her ablaze. Her entire body quaked and her voice rang against the walls. Arbdert’s name on her tongue and falling apart into incoherent mewling the moment it left her lips.
And she laid there panting, her entire body buzzing with bliss, her fingers slick with her arousal. She had made a mess of the bedsheets, but that was something that would have to be taken care of later. For now she just wanted to enjoy that pleasant tingling throughout her body.
Deep within her soul she could sense Ardbet’s satisfaction as well. As dazed and blissful as she was. “Gods,” His voice whispered from within, “you’re good with your fingers.” She could feel his exhilaration, a chuckle bubbled up within him. And she couldn’t help but to let one slip from her own lips.
“Liked it, did you?” Bellona hummed, closing her eyes.
“Aye...it felt good. You felt good.” She did not miss that deep purr in his tone. It sent a warmth to her cheeks.
My, my. What a strange predicament she found herself in. Two souls sharing one body certainly made for some interesting new experiences. Not that either party was complaining.
“If you really enjoyed that, there are plenty of other things we could try.”
His curiosity rippled through her.
“Like?”
She snuggled down comfortably into her bed. Goodness, that had taken a lot out of her. She appreciated Ardbert’s eagerness but perhaps their next game would have to be saved for later.
“I have a few interesting toys used for pleasure.” She hummed thoughtfully. “A few of them even shaped like rather nice pricks.”
She knew not how she could tell but Ardbert flushed. “I think I’d enjoy that.” A chuckle. “You, my friend, are going to make me realize some things about myself I never did before.”
Bellona smirked. “I suppose I could say the same about you.”
Sweat glistened on his body under the afternoon sun. He moved gracefully with his movements. Slicing at the air with his blade. He moved with a rouge’s grace—practically dancing on his feet—and attacked with the ferocity of a gunbreaker.
His brow was furrowed with concentration, he looked dangerous and powerful. With his muscles flexing and sweat slipping down his chest. He had a well-toned body, sculpt by years of time out in the field. Old scars healed and faded mapped his tan skin.
Every once in a while, he’d pause in his drills to brush his messy hair from his face. His face red and his chest heaving from the exertion. He’d take a swig from his water skin—splashing some on his face—before resetting in his training.
He was quite the spectacle. And quite the distraction as well…
“Bellona!” Alisaie complained loudly.
The woman startled and turned her attention back to her rather irate looking sparring partner. The girl’s brow was furrowed in disapproval and she brandished her rapier in front of her. “Pay attention!" She grumbled.
“Sorry…” Bellona shook her head, feeling her cheeks growing hot.
Alisaie still fixed her with a leer, she glanced briefly at Thancred’s display several yalms from them. Her nose wrinkled up and she rolled her eyes. “You promised me a good spar today!” She snipped. “And it’s no fun if you’re all distracted making goo-goo eyes at Thancred.”
That made her face burn even hotter. “I-I was not!” She sputtered.
“Oh really then?” The young elezen propped a hand on her hip. “Then what were you gawking blankly at in his direction, hm? The birds?”
“Y-yeah well maybe I was!”
The look on her friend’s face showed just how little she believed that. And honestly, Bellona didn’t feel much conviction in it either. Though in her defense, the man made it incredibly hard not to stop and stare. Waving that blade of his around while being bare-chested.
Gods...If her face grew any hotter she’d probably burst into flames.
She gave a miserable groan. “Can we just go back to training?”
“I don’t know,” Alisaie shrugged, “Are you done gawking at Thancred’s muscles? Or do I need to give you another ten minutes?”
That thought alone should have been enough to send her scurrying back to her room.If the man discovered she'd learned to get out, he'd be very displeased. And she shuddered thinking of whatever punishment Would be in store for her if she were ever caught.
And so with a trembling gait she moved up the corridors of Eulmore’s underground gaol. There had been very few guards down here. Eulmore didn’t see many prisoners these days—most trouble makers were merely tossed from the balcony. And no one expected much danger from the Oracle of Light.
As a result there was little in the way of obstacles during her escape.
Carefully she crept up into the lower reaches of the city. The hum of people and music enticing her onward. She could do this. She would do this!
Ran’jit couldn’t keep her caged away for the rest of her life.
Of course, she was allowed her time outside her room. But it was always too brief. Only for an hour or two, always with an escort of guards and always on the same rigid path. Never allowed to stray or linger.
Other days she was allowed out, it was to sit with Vauthry as he entertained guests and citizens. So he could show off that he had the Oracle on a leash. She was just a thing to show off. And when she wasn’t that, she was a prisoner.
She wasn't allowed to laugh and play like the other children of the city did. No, she was too precious. And so she would always have to watch their games from afar. And it made her envious. They got to be so carefree and were weighed down by nothing. Here living within the paradise of Eulmore there was little they needed to worry about.
Minfilia had always longed to go to them. She wanted to make friends with them and play with them. Do the things a girl her age was supposed to do. She wanted someone to gossip with or invite out to have tea and biscuits. At least that's what she saw the other girls do.
She pulled the hood of her cloak down more over her face as she stepped into one of the city’s extravagant halls. It was busy here with people walking and laughing. The girl had to keep her head down as she wove her way through.
Someone catching sight of the Oracle out and about would surely cause a scene.
It felt good to wander the city without an escort breathing down her neck. Scolding her and always snapping at her not to stray too far. Slipping through the crowds of Eulmore she felt…free.
And being free felt good.
It was almost enough to make her want to laugh. Giggles bubbled up within her chest from the excitement. The rush. She was out on her own with anyone’s permission; it was as exhilarating as it was scary.
Always forced to huddle within Ran’jit’s shadow she never got to appreciate how bright and vibrant the city was. Looking on in awe at everything as she walked.
Something bumped her foot. She looked down to see a ball had rolled its way to her. For a confused moment she simply stared down at it before a voice caught her attention.
“Hey!” It sent a startled jolt through her body. For a moment she feared she’d been caught. A guard or another citizen recognizing her.
However, when she looked up she only saw a boy waving to get her attention.
“Hey,” He called again, “Pass us back out ball!”
Minfilia, puzzled, looked down at the ball again. Pass it back?
Then it clicked for her. She remembered seeing other kids playing a game that involved kicking a ball around with their feet. The game had looked fun. And Minfilia had wanted to join in, however, Ran’jit had not allowed it.
Timidly, she kicked the ball in the boy’s direction. He stopped it’s rolling by propping a foot atop it. A grin on his face.
“Hey,” He said, “You want to come play with us?”
The offer surprised her and sent her heart flitting. ”Uh…I” It took her a moment to find her voice. “Sure! Sure I’d love to!”
Making sure her hood still obscured her features well, she then eagerly ran over. The boy introduced her to his group, three other boys and two girls, all around her own age. They taught her the rules of the game they were playing. And perhaps for the first time in her life, Minfilia was having fun. Real fun.
She laughed. Genuinely laughed. She never had any playmates growing up. No, just boring governesses who held her lessons. She never really had the chance to interact with children her age.
“Get it!” One of the children cheered her on as the ball was kicked her way.
With a euphoric giggle, Minfilia darted for it.
“Minfilia!”
She stumbled, the ball rolled past her.
The familiar ring of anger in Ran’jit’s voice reached her ears and froze her in place. Wincing, the girl turned to confront the man as he came storming up to her, a ring of guards accompanying him. It seemed her absence had been noticed far sooner than she thought.
“What are you doing?!” The man demanded, his outburst turning heads.
People whispered curiously as they glanced her way. Whispering and gossiping.
“Minfilia?”
“The Oracle here?”
“It is her.”
The girl cowered under her hood as she felt a thousand pairs of eyes on her. Guards shooed people back to discourage a crowd from forming. And soon she felt the shadow of Ran’jit looming over her. She need not meet his eyes to know his disapproval.
There the man stood, stony face and with his hands clasped behind him. “What are you doing out of your room?” His voice was cool but Minfilia still winced as if each word were a slap.
“I...I…” She timidly began, shame made words useless on her tongue.
“How dare you deny my will—the will of our master?” Ran’jit mercilessly went on. “Do you have nothing to say for yourself?”
This time she could only manage silence, fidgeting with her hands under his stern gaze. She cast a look back to her new friends. But they had all retreated to the safety of their parents’ arms. Looking back at her with awe and fear...and perhaps even sympathy.
I’m sorry. She wanted to tell them. And she hoped the look in her eyes was enough.
Ran’jit seemed to realize that they were drawing far too much of an audience. Shifting his cold gaze to the growing crowd. Many cowered under his gaze, knowing his reputation.
“Return the Oracle to her room.” He told the guards. “And make sure she remains there until I can arrive to properly deal with her.”
“Yes, sir.” One of the guards grunted before reaching for Minfilia. “Come along, my lady. It’s time to go back.”
She felt tears sting her eyes; and for a moment she thought to rebel once more and run away. But where? Where could she run to with so many eyes on her? With Ran’jit’s eyes on her?
Indeed when she looked up she found the man’s cold gaze cut back to her briefly. Do as I say. He wordlessly told her.
It wasn’t fair.
But there was nothing she could do about it. And so with a head hung low, Minfilia allowed herself to be escorted back to her room. Which these days was feeling more and more like a cage...
“You know,” Bellona began between chattering teeth, “This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when you suggested a romantic stroll through Ul’dah.”
She was soaked to the bone and shivering. Looking out miserably at the downpour they had just escaped from. Thancred and her pressed together under one of the few awnings that weren’t crowded.
They watched the sheets of rain falling to the pavement. People scattering about to look for their own sanctuary. It seemed they weren’t the only ones that were caught unawares by the weather.
“Doesn’t look like it’s going to let up any time soon.” She heard Thancred chuckle. “We might be stuck here for a while.” There was a pause of hesitance in his voice. “Unless you’d prefer to teleport ahead? I’m sure you’d rather be someplace much drier than this?”
The suggestion surprised her. Bellona looked up at him. “What and leave you here to stay all wet and cold alone? Didn’t you promise me a romantic evening? I can’t have that if I were to just leave you.”
A smile played across his lips. “You think being cold and wet is romantic?”
“With someone you care about, yes.”
Another laugh. “I still feel terrible though. I had the whole evening planned out perfectly.”
“Did you now?”
“Indeed I did. A stroll beneath the city lights, maybe a dinner at a nice restaurant—I do have a few people here who owe me. And at the end of the night I had thought to even steal a kiss.”
Bellona smiled. “Well... the first two may be ruined but I see no reason why the third can’t still happen.”
“A fair point, my lady.” His arms looped around her waist, pulling her close. “I suppose here I can steal all the kisses I would ever want.”
“Just mind your wandering hands.” She teased. “We are in public after all.”
“Oh come now, in this dreary weather I’m sure they’d appreciate a little entertainment.” And leaned closed to her, stopped by a finger pressed against his lips. A disgruntled noise came from him.
“Behave.” She told him. “People are watching us.”
Indeed a few people nearby were giving them narrowed looks. Obviously annoyed by the bright show of intimacy between them. Rolling their eyes or muttering to each other.
Bellona could feel her cheeks growing warm with self-consciousness, however, Thancred seemed to have the strength to ignore their judgement.
“So you always tell me. And believe me when I say I do try. But...you make it so hard to do so.” And before she could scold him further he leaned in to catch her lips against his.
“People are staring.” Bellona murmured against his lips.
A grunt. “Let them.” And he kissed her again, this time deeper and much passionate and definitely drawing looks.
The rain had left her cold and shivering. But in that moment, she did feel a satisfying warmth fill her. The weather had ruined Thancred’s plans for the evening, but she supposed this moment made up for it.
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“Hythlodaeus!” A voice rang out through the hall—a very angry voice.
Attendants scurried out of the warpath, suddenly having very important business to attend to elsewhere. Co-workers turned their heads and drifted away from the target of the fury.
The Chief of the Bureau of the Architect had actually been expecting such a visit. Calmly straightening out his papers and stacking them off to the side. He laced his fingers together before him upon his desk and offered his friend a pleasant smile.
“Good afternoon to you, esteemed Emet-Selch.” He chipperly greeted. “My, my. What has you in such a state of agitation today?”
“You know exactly what.” The other sniffed. “Do you have any idea what sort of trouble Azem is up to today?”
Hythlodaeus cocked his head to the side. “You know I am terrible at guessing games, my friend.”
He needn’t see behind the other’s mask to know the frown that furrowed his brow. “And I have little tolerance for your games.” He replied. “What. Have. You. Done.”
“Why must you assume I am guilty of a crime just because Azem is involved with it?”
“Because you two have made it a duty to age me beyond my years. Now Azem is on her way to a volcano about to erupt and has gotten a hold of a highly valued concept. And I know of only one individual who would give her the permissions to access such a thing.”
And Hythlodaeus only offered an unhelpful shrug. “Quite a mystery of who could’ve done such a thing.”
“Not that much of a mystery.” Emet-Selch dryly said. “You do know she could risk being censured again over this stunt?”
“Well I don’t see why she would be.” Hythlodaeus thoughtfully said. “If you look at it from the point of view of her only fulfilling the duties of her office. As the Traveler it is her job to discover and protect the knowledge she finds out in the world.
“Wouldn’t you agree that protecting an island from annihilation falls under those duties? Who knows what knowledge we risk losing?”
“You do know she’s only doing this for grapes? Risking her life and her seat on the Convocation for grapes.”
“And quite fine grapes they are! The only of their kind!” Hythlodaeus grinned. “I hear they make a rather fine wine. I think Azem may be doing us quite the favor. And I’m sure you wouldn’t let her get in trouble for it. Some soothing words from the respectable Emet-Selch should temper any outrage.”
Emet-Selch breathed a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. Because of course Hythlodaeus was right. Because regardless of what Azem got herself into he would be there to help her out.
“If she gets hurt during this, it is you I’m coming after, you are aware?” He warned. “You had no business putting an untested concept like Ifrita in her hands.”
“And I’m sure she’ll be fine, she’s our Azem after all.” Hythlodaeus chortled as he picked up a stack of papers to leaf through. “When she returns, we can celebrate her feat with that wine I was telling you about. One sip and you’ll find her recklessness was worth it.”
Zenos yae Galvus stood upon the balcony of the imperial palace. Eyes flicking over the burning chaos below. The sounds of battle used to always get his blood pumping. It always put him in the mood for a proper hunt. And he would gather his hounds and set out onto the battlefield. Hunting for a worthy opponent to feed his thrill.
But this...this was children squabbling. Fighting over a silly throne which he cared little for himself. However, the Ascian had insisted he take it for himself. Something about it being vital to their plans that they possess control of the palace.
He saw little need for it. Let the petulant children below kill themselves over it. Before his death, his father had assumed Zenos lusted after the crown. However, he could not care less for something so...dull.
No, he yearned to reunite with his dear friend. The memory of their last battle filled him with a sense of euphoria. Perhaps, the first time he had ever experienced true joy—true love. And he longed to feel that rush again. His heart racing, his lungs close to bursting, his entire body aflame with exhilaration and desire!
The prince reached out to the empty air as if he could grasp ahold of his beast and drag her close. He wondered if news of his return had reached her ears yet? How would she react when she found out it was truly him within this flesh? Would she feel the same thrill he felt at the prospect of facing each other in battle again?
“Oh my friend,” He sighed blissfully, “I hope your recent hunt has not left you too exhausted. I want you at your best when we reunite.”
And a grand reunion it would be.
Let the rest of the world burn! The flames would serve as the backdrop for their grand dance!
Her gleaming majesty could never fade from his memory. Always there. Within his dreams. Within his heart. He could close his eyes and remember every little detail.
The way the streets were paved, the gentle sigh the trees made in the breeze, the power of the looming buildings that stretched into the heavens.
The aether of this world—corrupted as it was—made for fine molding clay. He could take it and weave it through his fingertips easily. Shape it into whatever his imagination desired.
It helped that there were still lingering pieces of Amaurot still drifting on its currents. Ruined and splintered as the Star was, it still remembered what it had been before.
And so from ruins he was able to sculpt something beautiful. The skeletal remains began to rise, reclaiming their realm within the sky. He built it up on a foundation of his memories, from every brick to every pebble.
He could remember the streets, paved and clean and always filled with milling people. The souls glimmering within his mind’s eyes like a rainbow. Specific faces he couldn't quite recall, but there were certain characters he remembered seeing.
A group of individuals clustered together in friendly debate. Children laughing and playing as they ran through the streets.
Those happier days. Those days he’d spent with her.
Would you even remember any of this now as you are?
There was no denying that glimmer he had seen within Hydaelyn’s champion. Faded and dimmed as it was, he still knew Azem’s soul.
If only he could get her to understand. Perhaps, if he brought her here she would. Maybe, just maybe she would look upon the towering majesty of Amaurot and know why they were so desperate to restore its glory?
Were she anyone else—any other plain, sundered being—he would’ve destroyed her and her companions without a second thought. Just like any other pest that stood in the way of their plans. But this was different—this was her. Or a part of her at least. And it had made its way to him.
And he was willing to give her and her scions a chance. Perhaps this shard of Azem’s soul might prove herself to stand above the rest of these pitiful creatures? One chance. He would give her one chance.
To prove herself. To understand.
And then maybe...just maybe....he would have her back at his side once more.
Was that his heart beating within his chest? Fluttering so hard that it might escape from within his body? With each step he took across the dais its racing seemed to grow stronger. Was her nervous?
He was experiencing quite an intense whirlwind of emotions right now. Excitement, determination, fear, anxiety, uncertainty. As well as doubt wiggled in a deep corner of his mind.
What if this doesn’t work? What if they brought about such a great sacrifice for nothing? Elidibus felt sick at the thought. He could not bear to imagine such a betrayal. This had to work. It would work. For his Star. For his people.
He spared a silent glance for those who stood around the edge of the platform—the members of the Convocation who would lead the ritual. He tried not to let it sting his heart too much when he only counted twelve present. And he truly doubted if he looked out into the sea of faces beyond, he’d find whom he was looking for.
Azem had been firm in her stance. She would have no part in this—condemned it even. That much had been clear when she stepped down from her office. Despite the pleading and warnings and everything else, she had turned her back on them.
How the Emissary wished her mind could’ve been changed. Azem’s encouraging presence would’ve empowered him. He felt with the Traveler there he would’ve walked more surely instead of with a tremble in his gait. He had always looked up to her—always wanted strength like hers.
So he tried his best right now to emulate it despite not truly feeling it.
In his search did meet Lahabrea’s gaze though. The Speaker’s words from early echoed within his head.
“If you are too anxious to do this, Elidibus, then you can let one of us take your place. It does not have to be you.”
He considered the words a thousand times in the hours before the ceremony. How easy it would be to place this burden on someone else’s shoulder. But no he couldn’t. He had said it would be him and him alone to do this. Him who would make the greatest sacrifice of all. This had been his idea after all. And the thought of having to sacrifice any of the other Convocation—whom had had come to know as family— for a duty that was met to be his sent a twist through his heart.
So no...he could not have accepted Lahabrea’s offer in good conscious.
So he pushed the storm of emotion down deep within himself. He needed to be seen as strong before all in attendance. He was Eidibus—Emissary. And one who would lead them unto salvation.
Standing taller he stepped onto the middle of the dais where the sigil for the summoning had been carved. It was time.
Urianger in his few months of knowing the pixies felt there were two very important facts about them. They were rather friendly, little creatures. And they were mischievous little devils. Fond of mayhem they were always trying to find little tricks to play on visitors to Il Mheg.
And Urianger was their favourite playmate. The mysterious elf who spoke with a funny voice and who had taken up residence in one the old mortal dwellings. He absolutely delighted them. Mortals never stayed in Il Mheg; they feared the fey and usually tried to pass through quickly when traveling its roads.
Today he had been making notes of the different kinds of flora that bloomed the land. Making quick sketches—though his hand wasn’t as talented as young Master Alphinaud’s—as well as jotting notes down about them.
Fascinating, it was all incredibly fascinating. He had theorized that Il Mheg must be somewhere geographically where Ishgard is on the Source. And yet it possessed a completely different clime.
He had been studying the plant life, curious to see if there were any similarities to those on his home shard. However, much of the flora seemed to have evolved in its own way separate from those on the Source. Which he supposed would make sense. The First’s history had been carved out in a different path from the Source. It had experienced its own eras, its own disasters, tragedies, and other impactful events. And so the flora and fauna and even the landscape itself would’ve adapted differently.
“Urianger!” A chipper voice suddenly popped into existence.
“Good morning to thee, Kenn Beq.” Urianger hummed as he scribbled something down in his journal about the tree he was resting under.
“What are you doing this time?” Kenn Beq asked, flitting close to look over his shoulder. “Oh what pretty pictures! Uri likes flowers! Lemme see! Lemme see! Don’t be shy now!”
And with a flick of their wrist, Urianger’s journal was suddenly lifted out of his hands and into the air. The Archon let out a noise of protest. It seemed the pixies were in a mischievous mood today.
“Kenn Beq.” Urianger fiercely said as if reprimanding a child. “Return that at once.”
They merely giggled at him and leafed through the pages. “Oh calm yourself. I only want to look. Oooh, Uri seems to be a scholar as well. Kenn Sul, come look!” They then called and another pixie popped forth.
Kenn Sul and Kenn Beq were perhaps the equivalent of twins in the world of mortals. The other pixies explained that the pair had been “born” together. And thus the two of them together were the source of much mayhem.
In truth, Urianger always found them rather endearing. Perhaps, reminded of another set of twins he knew well; and thus tolerated their presence. However, today he was in no mood to entertain these two.
“Oooh, how pretty!” Kenn Sul fawned. “You should have told us you liked flowers, Uri.”
He sighed. “Aye, I wish to learn more about thou’s land. And I’ve found the best way to learn about one’s surroundings is to observe the plant life. Now if you would be so kind.” And he stretched out his hand, waiting for his book to be returned to him.
The twins shared a look. And he did not like the smirks on their faces. The pixies were like children, he’d decided—very naughty children. Always scheming something wicked.
“Oh fine.” Kenn Beq agreed and sent the book floating back down to him.
“Uri, if you like flowers we can lead you to some very special ones!” Kenn Sul then said. “Ones that aren’t in your pretty book yet!”
Kenn Beq clapped their hands together in excitement. “Yes, yes! Oh I love those! I would love to see them in your book!”
Urianger eyed them warily. Wisely wondering if the two were up to any tricks. One had to be careful when trusting a pixie. Sometimes they were honest creatures and sometimes they would lead you straight into the jaws of a hungry draco.
And these two were no exception. Nay they were much worse!
“I am too busy for games, my friends.” He shook his head. “Mayhaps another time.”
And Kenn Sul made a stomping motion in the air, crossing their arms. “But it is no game. We mean it!”
“Yes!” Kenn Beq added. “There is a flower patch on the far end of Il Mheg that we know you want to...to sturdy? No that’s not the right word for it? Um Kenn Sul, what was it scholars like Uri did again?”
“I believe it was study.” Their twin offered. “Oh you were quite close!”
Kenn Beq did a twirl in the air at the praise before turning their attention back to Urianger. “Come, come! We’ll show you. And if it’s a rotten trick of ours then you’re free to cuff Kenn Sul across the head a few times as punishment.”
And with that Kenn Beq flitted off.
“H-hey!” Their sibling called after them as they followed. “Why do I have to take the brunt of the blame?!”
Urianger sighed; he could just stay here and return to his studies. Perhaps even return to the Bookman’s Shelves for a lunch. But he felt the twins would take offense to that. They would come pester him until he agreed to come with them on their little adventure. And if not that, they certainly would find a cruel trick to play on him.
And so against his better judgement, he tucked his journal under his arm and followed the tittering fey.
“See Uri!” Kenn Sul proudly announced when they had arrived at their destination.
The pixies flew excited circles around him, pointing at a cluster of shrubs with bright purple flowers blooming on them. Indeed he had never seen these flowers on his travels before. And drew closer out of curiosity. Upon closer inspection he found the flowers’ petals were also speckled with yellow like little freckles. And the flowers themselves were about the size of his entire hand.
“How fascinating.” The Archon hummed and opened his journal to take notes. “And what are these called?”
Kenn Beq came flitting up to rest upon his shoulder. “The mortals that lived here long ago had a name for them—I don’t remember what it was though. We pixies however call them Dreaming-While-Awakes.”
An odd name. He’d have to poor through the tomes at his home to see if he could discover its proper one.
“Are they poisonous? Or dangerous at all?” Urianger tilted his head. He knew many flowers were deceptively beautiful and here and the land of fey one could never be too careful. Just the other day a pixie had warned him to stay away from a cotton-like plant that was said to sting like nettles despite its soft appearance.
“No.” Kenn Beq said, casually swaying their legs. “We’ve never seen it harm mortals before.”
He nodded and assuming Kenn Beq’s knowledge could be trusted, he made note of the observation in his journal. And out of curiosity reach out to touch one of the soft looking petals.
The moment his finger brushed against the petal the flower shuddered and sprayed out a cloud of what he assumed to be some kind of mist or pollen. And then it closed up at once, curling itself into a tight little bud.
Urianger startled, coughing and hacking on the strange concoction it had assaulted him with. The smell was absolutely horrendous, it burned his throat and made his eyes water.
Faintly he could hear the twins laughing at him. Accursed little imps! He should have known better! However, before he could berate them for their trickery, they quickly flew off.
Whatever ailed him seemed to finally dissipate after a few agonizing minutes, though Urianger still suffered from its effects. Do not rub your eyes. It could spread the irritant and damage sight. His studies reminded him. And so he kept his hands away from his face.
It took a moment, but the burning seemed to abate to a more tolerable level. He paused for a moment, doing a mental well-being check. He didn’t seem ill or in any pain—the only thing plaguing him were eyes and a slight headache. But otherwise he didn’t seem to be in any danger.
It seemed Kenn Beq had not lied in that regard. The spray probably was some sort of defense mechanism for the plant. To keep itself from being eaten. He made a note of this within his journal before turning to head home.
During the walk back he did not encounter Kenn Beq or Kenn Sul again. The pair of them smartly staying away from him while his anger was still hot. On the morrow they’d probably come bearing gifts of apology, usually polished stones from the river that they thought were pretty.
And so his walk had gone undisturbed. However, about halfway he had to pause. The throbbing in his head had grown steadily worse. Going from a dull ache to a full on piercing pain. A side effect from the flower?
He groaned, clutching at his head with a hand. He winced at the sun beating down on him. was it always so bright? It made him feel nauseated under its beating warmth. Had that flower been poisonous?
Gods, above he felt so dizzy—the world was spinning and—
“You alright love?”
A voice snapped him from whatever was ailing him.
“You’re not looking too good. What tried to drink Thancred under the table? Though I have to say that’s not a very hard feat to accomplish.”
That voice…
His head still ached and he had to squint through the bright sunlight at the figure before him. It couldn’t be and yet...it sounded like her. It...it looked like her.
He could feel himself trembling as his lips parted to form her name. It couldn’t be. It was impossible.
Yet there she stood grinning at him, hands propped on her hips. “Come on then, up you go.” She insisted. “We need to get back home;?don’t want to be out here in the dark, do you?”
Finally. Finally he had the strength to form her name on his tongue. “Moenbryda?” He whispered incredulously.
She cocked her head. “Were you expecting someone else?”
Once again he was left speechless. How? How was this possible? This had to be a trick! Some cruel, cruel trick done by the pixies. He felt angry. He felt sorrow he thought he buried welling up within him again.
Abruptly, Moenbyrda’s smile fell and was replaced by an expression of concern. “Are you alright, love?” She asked moving forward to cup his face between her hands. And Urianger was surprised to find her touch warm. So real.
“How…” Urianger managed to find his voice. And he could feel tears misting in his eyes. “How are you here?”
Moenbryda seemed surprised and even offended at that. “Urianger...I’ve always been with you. Don’t you remember?” A frown furrowed her brow as she placed the back of her hand against his forehead. “Hmph, that flower must’ve done a number on you, eh? You’re positively burning up. Come on, let’s go back home and prep some tea. That always makes you feel better.”
“But…” Urianger began to protest.
“Hush my dear.” Moenbryda told him and patted him on the cheek. “It’s all going to be okay. You just need to rest.”
Something in her words seemed to soothe him. The emotions rattling within him stilled. And suddenly he felt so tired.
“Right...right.” He murmured, feeling dazed and let her lead him back home.
This felt strange. Like it shouldn’t be happening. And yet...her hands had felt so real against his cheeks. Her fingers felt so real as they entwined with his. And her voice, her sweet voice—he could never mistake it. It was her.
And yet it couldn’t be. Back and forth his mind warred like that. Illogical and logical fighting to dominate his mind which right now felt as if a fog had settled over it.
It didn’t feel right but Moen had promised all was well. And well...he trusted her.
They had made it to the Rising Stones.
Wait...that’s not right. Is it?
He couldn’t ponder on it much longer before Moenbryda dragged him inside. She had settled down at a table and quickly shooed him away, insisting that he start a kettle for them.
“And why am I making the tea when it was thee whom suggested it?” Urianger had asked.
And Moenbryda grinned that wonderful smile of hers. Wry and filled with mischief. “Because you need something to occupy your mind, silly thing. You’ve walked the whole way here with a blank look on your face like your head was suddenly empty.” She teased. “You need something to do to get that brain of yours working again.”
He merely shook his head and wandered over to the stove to prepare the tea. Cheeky. She was always so cheeky. And that was one of the things he loved most about her.
The thought tugged at something at the back of his mind. And the dizzy spell that had ailed him earlier had suddenly returned. The elezen had to lean against the nearby wall for a moment to get his bearings. Why was he feeling so nauseous all of a sudden?
“Is everything alright, Urianger?” he heard Moenbryda call out to him. “You haven’t been acting well since that incident with that flower. Funny thing must be messing with your head.”
“Yes...the flower.” He murmured and clutched at his head. Something about that was making his head throb again. What had Kenn Beq called it? Something wasn’t right. “The Rising Stones. How...did we get here? We were just in Il Mheg.”
“We walked here, obviously. Are you feeling okay?”
No. Not at all. Something...something wasn’t right.
“I am fine.” Urianger reassured, shaking his head to clear it. And with trembling hands he turned his attention back to his task. Right...he needed to put the kettle on to warm the water—
Two cups of tea sat before him. Warm and with steam rising up from them. How? Had he already brewed it and just wasn’t paying attention?
“Uri!” Moenbryda called impatiently. “Are you going to hog it all for yourself?”
He pushed down the nauseated feeling rising within him and turned to carry the cups to his waiting companion. This was nice. How long had it been since the two of them enjoyed a nice tea and chat together?
Again the tugging at his mind came. The flower. Il Mheg. Sitting here in the Rising Stones didn’t seem to fit with it. His sluggish mind swept it away. Focus on tea with Moen not that.
The two of them chatted pleasantly. Reminiscing in old memories and recounting stories of their time after graduating the Studium. It was a pleasant time and Urianger felt he had not had genuine laughter in so long.
He couldn’t help but to feel he was forgetting something though. Something that kept nagging at the back of his mind. It had been tugging on him ever since meeting Moenbryda again.
There was something about her. Something about this day. This very moment. And every time he tried to focus on it he was left feeling dizzy.
“Mm you always made the finest tea, Urianger.” Moenbryda praised as she took a long sip. Knocking it back as if it were a tankard of ale. “Always could taste the care you put into it.”
“Preparing tea is an art.” Urianger replied as he took his own sip. Puzzlement welled up within him. His tasted so plain. Had he put enough herbs in it? “Master Loiusoix taught me that important lesson. “
Moenbryda hummed. “You were always his favourite.”
He set his foul tea aside, no longer having the taste for it. “Do not pretend that he never had a fondness for thee.”
She merely shrugged at that and crossed one leg over the other. “Do you miss him?”
The question seemed out of nowhere and surprised Urianger. He scowled and looked down at his lap. “Aye.” He admitted. “Every day, I long for his wisdom and his guidance. For there are some days where I oft wonder if I am taking the right steps. And if I am taking them down the right path.”
Moenbryda hummed thoughtfully. “And me? Do you miss me?”
That question was odd that it made him jerk his head up to see...her fading.
“Moen?” He whispered in worry.
She was fading. Fading away again.
Something...something was wrong. He felt hot all over and that piercing pain in his head from earlier had returned.
“Moen…” Urianger reached out to grasp her hands. “Moenbryda, what is wrong?!” Desperation made his voice hoarse.
And his dear friend stared at him sadly. And yet she smiled. “Ah told you that silly flower was messing with your head.”
The flower? Yes...yes he remembered now. The fog was slowly lifting and his head was clearer.
Kenn Beq had called something peculiar…Dreaming-While-Awake.
“This isn’t real.” He admitted to himself.
“No.” Moenbryda beamed. “But at least it was nice while it lasted.”
He stared at her sadly and when to grab her hand this time his fingers brushed through it. He closed his eyes with a grimace. Of course, he should’ve known better. Known that such a perfect moment could only exist within the confines of his mind.
“Oh don’t be sad, dear.” Moenbryda consoled. “I told you before, I’ve always been with you.”
“Yes…” He agreed, closing his hand into a fist and looking down at the table. “But only within mine dreams.”
“And within your heart.” She told him.
“And within mine heart.” He repeated solemnly. “I suppose it does answer thine question though. ” He murmured, looking up at the empty air where she’d once been. “I do miss thee terribly.”
When he came out of the strange vision, Urianger found himself lying in a field. Likely somewhere in between where the flowers had been and the Bookman’s Shelves. He hadn’t seemed to travel far in his stupor.
He groaned, wincing at the piercing pain in his skull. Now seeming a thousand times worse with him being awake. He awoke feeling sweaty and hot. And when he tried to stand he instantly regretted it, forced back to his knees as he retched up the contents of his stomach.
Twelve, allow me strength to make it back home.
This would be the last time he trusted the fey on botanistic excursions.
Journal Entry No. 63
Dreamer’s Neem (the the pixies seem to dub it Dreaming-While-Awake)
A beautiful looking flower that grows to about the size of a grown Elezen male’s hand. A light shade of purple and dappled with yellow freckles it seems to grow on shrubs in isolated patches around Il Mheg.
As a defense mechanism against creatures that would try to prey upon it, the plant sprays the aggressor with an agitating powder before closing in on itself. It should be noted that this powder contains a very potent hallucinogenic agent that causes truly powerful visions that seem to affect all the senses.
The former human inhabitants seemed to have used the flower for recreational purposes. Similar to the use of milkweed on the Source. It should be noted however, that while the plant may not be deadly it is best to avoid it. The effects of its defensive powder could prove to be overwhelming to individuals not familiar with the plant.
It should also be well noted that an individual exposed should be given cool water and broth for the rest of the day. The after effects of the hallucinations may leave them weak of stomach. And solid foods could agitate their condition.
Have care for thee whom wouldst seek out this plant. For the vision it offers may not always be pleasant. Speaking from mine own experience it was rather tame. Though other accounts I hath read indicate more nightmarish experiences. How lucky I was in mine own…