#miounne

[ladylemoon-art]

Cute event blessed with Aymeric -! 🙏💕✨

[weenwem]

Mother Miounne

🔹ffxiv fanart🔹

[dawntrailing]

"You've earned this honor with tireless hard work, and anyone who says you don't deserve it had better not do so in my hearing! I find myself praising you often of late, but Mother is truly proud of you. Short of a Warrior of Light, I can imagine no better adventurer to represent us—and that is some compliment! But I've flattered you enough for one day. And I don't want your head to get too big, or you'll struggle to lug it around the realm."

[yzeltia]

FFXIVwrite2024 24. Bar

Featuring: @driftward Zoissette Vauban & Nyx Blackmoon @erickgage 's Ryssthota Sundstyrwyn, @autumnslance 's C'oretta Khell and Aeryn Striker, @eorziapple 's Apple Silverberg Characters: Mother Miounne, Jannie Eyradoux Fortemps, Haurchefant Fortemps, Lamberteint, F'lhaminn Qesh, U'rahn Nuhn, Violet Fisher, Natsu Obinata, Drowning Thunder, Y'shtola Rhul, Thancred Waters, Chef Moogle, Apple Silverberg Expansion: Heavenward(Context) Dawntrail(Timeframe) Rating: T Summary: The Warriors of Light and their respective haunts. Notes: Thanks to my FC friends for letting me borrow them!

-Carline Canopy - Gridania-

“Let me see him!”

Miounne held out her arms for little Haurchefant as Jannie handed him over. She smiled as she drew him in, letting the boy coo and kick in her arms as she wiggled her finger toward his nose and gave it the smallest of pokes. “He’s so handsome and already a little kicker. An aspiring Dragoon no doubt. Lancer at the very least I’m sure.”

“Rather unlikely if his grandfather has anything to say about it. The manor is baby-proofed so much that I doubt the boy would not see so much as a butter knife until he was adventuring age if I did not take him out,” Jannie sighed, sliding over a loaf of walnut bread and slicing for the two of them.

“That will come before you know it and you’ll be wishing Lord Edmont had his way,” Miounne laughed, making the boy laugh too as he reached out for her. “I do hope when that day comes you’ll send him to me to start his journey.”

“How are you so certain that he will not find himself among the Temple Knights? He would be a legacy after all?” Jannie asked, a small smile on her face as she spread honey butter along the bread.

“Well, he’s your son,” Minounne said, giving Haurchefant little bounces in her arms. 

Jannie blinked, scraping the knife along the toast. “I think that would resign him to seeking a much quieter life than he’s been born into. The Fury knows how long it took me to get settled down…somewhat.”

“Settled down? As soon as you’re given a task you’re wholly dedicated to it. I sent you to help out a few people around the city and the next thing I know you’re crashing a castrum and taking down The Blackwolf. As much as you protest, you cannot resist the call to help. I can’t imagine anyone you raise growing up without a heart just as big as you. Especially given his namesake,” Miounne mused, stroking her hand through Haurchefant’s budding hair.

“Oh dear, I suppose you do have a point. Still, who knows what the future will hold for him. Only the Fury knows,” Jannie mused, breaking off a little piece of bread for Haurchefant to hold and chew at with his budding teeth. Delighted, the boy gave hero’s smile at his mother and her friend and cooed about.

-The Rising Stones - Mor Dona- 

Lamberteint thought it strange, though he’d never been brave enough to ask why he did it. Every year U’rahn Nuhn would come in, order two drinks, a hard cider and peach and lavender cocktail with whipped cream on top. And then he’d sit at a table with his drinks, pushing the cocktail to the opposite side and talk to the empty seat.

His ears would perk up as get hot and excited. His tail lowered when his voice got soft and sad. Lamberteint occasionally caught bits of the one sided conversation, U’rahn recounting his latest adventure to it or bragging about something his daughter had gotten up to. It was a one man show confined to a table, with no audience except those who cared to eavesdrop like himself. Not even the strange person who he’d seen often accompany or shadow him on many of his other visits seemed to come around for the strange show.

Lamberteint tilted his head, watching U’rahn rub his face with a napkin, clearing it of what he assumed was tears from overwhelming himself before he reached out and downed his missing companion’s drink and made his leave. Curiosity getting the better of him, he wandered over to F'lhaminn’s counter and leaned over it, watching U’rahn exit downstairs. “What is that all about?”

F'lhaminn looked up and gave Lamberteint a small smile. “It would have been the Antecedent’s name day today. That’s just his way of celebrating it with her.”

“The Antecedent…” Lamberteint trailied. “But she passed on.”

“There’s no one way to process one’s grief. Minfilia was likened to a big sister to him, or so he says. He comes and orders the drink he’d had me help him craft for her name day and tells her what’s happening with his life, and the people she cared about. It’s just a means to heal the heart and make him feel connected to her,” F'lhaminn explained before lowering her head. “It is a shame. We spent all that time fashioning the drink for her and I do not believe she had a chance to try it.”

“I see,”  Lambereint said, frowning a little. “Does that not bother you?”

“Not at all. I love that she lives in his heart. It keeps just a little bit of her for us,” she hummed, starting to mix a drink together. After a moment, she slid the pink and violet drink over to Lamerteint. “Here. Try it. I think it would have suited her tastes quite well.”

– The Final Pillar - Gage Acquisitions Headquarters - Lavender Beds 6-6 -

Violet tossed her hair, tying it back into a neat ribbon before starting on polishing the marble counters then moving on toward the spigots, humming a little shanty to herself as she busied herself with opening the bar. A bell rang and she poked her head up, Natsu wandering in with Drowning Thunder close behind. She turned and pulled down her best vodka and filled two chilled martini glasses halfway before adding in apple juice to both. After adding a Doman apple wedge to each rim, offered them to the couple in time for Zoissette and Y'shtola to enter. 

Putting a kettle on was easy to remember; however, not trusting herself she slid a small navy hook out from under the register, touching the golden L.O. etched into the cover before flipping it to tab V.

Z.V. will drink tea on hand; however, if accompanied by Ys.R.: chamomile and lavender. If Zel has made any meat pies, serve a slice with an additional glass of water. 

Violet dropped to a squat, reading through the fine labels of tea tins before finding the correct blend. Throwing it into a diffuser, she careful plucked it into the whimpering kettle then checked the back, greetted by a moogle in a chef hat. “Ishgardian Meat pie,” she ordered, getting a panicked kupo in response.

Returning to the front, she brought Zoissette and Y'shtola the warm kettle and two faucets with cups before looking up as Ryssthota entered and headed to the bar. As she rounded back around she consulted the little blue book under R.S.

R.S. enjoys a whiskey sour. If Co.K is present, leave cherries on the side. If there has been a recent incident in the lab, make it a double.

Violet shuddered then pulled out a bottle of bourbon and lemon juice adding it to her shaker before cracking an egg into her hand, whining audibly as the slimy yolk shifted in her palm as the white drooled through her fingers before dropping the yolk into a ramekin. She immediately washed her hands free of the yolk then went to shaking before pouring the drink into a glass along with bitters. As she finished, C’oretta popped up on a stool beside her beaming at her before starting a conversation with Rysthota. As instructed, she laid out the bowl of cherries in front of C’oretta before making her a quick rum bucket filled with fresh fruits and juices remembering L.O.’s Enjoys a variety of fruity drinks. Rum buckets with juices available for unique experience every time. Leave fruit available for snacks.

Turning around, she found Nyx behind her, staring intently at her before Rahn came stumbling into the bar. Sighing, she filled a glass of cider ale for Rahn then looked around and handed the yolk ramekin to Nyx for them to drink knowing well most anything would be ingested by them. N.B. will drink anything. Literally anything. A good way to avoid waste. Will ask if they want something else.

Spotting Aeryn and Thancred entering, she returned to the back end finding her little chef finishing up the meat pie. She cut out three slices and plated them before grabbing one of the finer bottles of spiced wine. Wandering out, she picked up two wine glasses then delivered Zoissette her slice of pie before serving the other two to Thancred and Aeryn along with the bottle. T.W. Likes to show off. Bring him something that looks expensive. A.S. Will mostly enjoy whatever is being served that day. The room full, Violet sighed then returned behind the counter to pour herself a tall stout, downing it before looking up as Apple wandered in. She waved her over then pulled out another glass then wetted the rim, dipping it into a box of brown sugar. She excitedly told her about Riol’s latest mishap while mixing the rum, orange liquor, lemon juice, simple syrup, and chickpea water together before sliding the drink over on a napkin. A.S. Bestie. Cable Car, sweet rimmed sugar. Orange liquor and Limsan rum. Egg white. Chickpea water.

[starswornoaths]

FFXIVWrite 2023 Prompt#1: Emissary

heelies in late with Starbucks with a oneshot laying out the groundwork for a childhood sweethearts-to-strangers-to-lovers pipeline between my WoL and Miounne, leaves without elaborating.

No spoilers for MSQ, just playing with the idea of anyone with the Echo that awoke during the Calamity being forgotten by everyone that Hydaelyn decided they would be Plot Relevant Later:tm: just like what happened with 1.0 WoL :')

word count: 1,128

When Serella had put Gridania behind her, she had thought she had made peace with it. Left it behind with all the other dead things it had inside it. Left it with the home it had taken from her. A pragmatic part of her had accepted that she would return in some capacity, even if in passing through. 

She just thought she would be more ready for it. That she would feel like more than the girl that fled the Carline Canopy shivering into the rain after rising from the ashes of Calamity. Like more than the barely-grown thing wrapped in an adult’s rite of passage that stepped too confidently onto a carriage to the outside world. Like more than the instinct that made her run.

All that running, and here she was: Serella Arcbane, stood beneath the awning of the Carline Canopy, drying from the rain again.

But her cloak was about her shoulders this time, at least. No shivering this time. Small mercies.

Knowing that Miounne was behind the counter—was always behind the counter—did not making seeing her any easier. Did not make her feel less small and lost. 

From her spot at the entryway she watched, off to the side and unobtrusive to the flow of patrons and adventurers. Miounne was the eye of a storm and as much in her element as she had always been, a warm smile and a spot of radiance in the chaos of the room. 

I’m an emissary come from Ul’Dah, she practiced for the thousandth time since she boarded the airship to Gridania. I have a message for the Elder Seedseer from the Sultana herself.

Making herself taller than she felt, Serella drew herself up to her full height and stepped inside.

Just beyond the threshold, the air became immediately heavier with the warmth of a roaring hearth and the scent of the pastries baking within it. She knew without looking that the source of that rich, sweet scent was a batch or two of Miounne’s special butter biscuits. 

She swallowed around the rapid tightening in her throat and only stepped into line for the counter when she was somewhat confident that she could properly work her jaw. It still conspired to strangle her every word by the time the person in front of her concluded their business with the guild. 

“My, my! A new face to the Carline Canopy!” Miounne said before she had even reached the counter. “I thought I saw you hovering by the door—” 

In spite of herself, Serella smiled and thought, of course you did with an old and dust-covered fondness. Miounne was never one to miss when a wayward soul hesitated in the threshold. don’t be shy! Come, come, let’s get you registered—”

Serella had never been a new face to the Canopy—could not be—

When she finds her voice it’s a rusty thing, and it scrapes her throat on the way out as she croaks, “Oh, I’ve been here before.”

“Have you?” Miounne startles, a well-worn leather tome balanced in her hand. “I’ve never forgotten a single face that’s made it to Carline Canopy, surely—”

“Serella Arcbane. I came here—” 

I was always here. My name is carved on one of the spools of the waterwheel outside, right next to yours. We put it on the underside so it was no one’s secret but ours.

In the gap of the sentence, Miounne had cast a simple incantation and watched the pages flutter to an earlier entry in the book, her name writ neatly in Miounne’s own hand. “—Goodness, but it has been a while since you’ve been here!” she gasped when she saw the date. “That was, goodness that was mere days after the Calamity! There were so many to tend to in those days—”

“A lot was happening back then.” Serella rasped. “It’s fine.”

“Yes…” Miounne said, soft and distant, her eyes drifting for a moment in search of a thing she couldn’t name. 

The moment was over before it had a chance to settle, Miounne deliberately brightening as she said, “Please, let me reintroduce myself, then: I am Mother Miounne, proprietess of the Carline Canopy! And it is an honor and a privilege to work with you!”

With a flourish, the book was tucked away under the counter and she returned the whole of her focus to the person in front of her. She held out her hand to shake, the picture of warmth and geniality. 

Same as Miounne always was. The sunshine in the eye of a storm.

In the instant that their hands touched, Serella felt herself in patchwork, the stitches coming undone and leaving her in the fraying pieces of herself. Every little quilt of memory with Miounne’s hand in hers fell into a messy little pile in her mind.  

She was five summers old, with a wicker basket of blackberries sat between them, sticky hands and purple-tinted smiles with Miounne as they watched the sunset from the top of the treeline, the berries and the climb their little secrets. 

She was nine summers old, and she can’t make her voice work around the stitches on her neck and face. Still, she keeps trying to sign an apology to Miounne for upsetting her so. It’s hard to sign when her hands are held so, so tightly.

She was ten and seven summers old, and she feels the tremor in Miounne through their laced fingers long before it’s felt through the timid kiss they share. It’s not the first time they’ve done it, but it was the first time it felt like both a promise and a choice.

She was twenty and one summers old, and Miounne tells her, “No matter what happens, what you face out there…you can come to me. You know that, right?” It feels like the truth. She accepts the offer with tangled fingers and kisses pressed to pristine knuckles. Together, they become the promise and the choice. 

She was twenty and five summers old, and when she stumbles out of the tree canopy and into Carline she does so yelling her beloved’s name around a soot-choked sob. As Miounne bandages her burned hands and asks for her name, only to be confused to find it already there, she understands that she lost more than a few days when Dalamud fell.

She was thirty summers when she shook Miounne’s hand as a stranger and nearly forgot her rehearsed line and why she was back here to even begin with until she reluctantly took her hand back.

“I’m an emissary come from Ul’Dah. I have a message for the Elder Seedseer from the Sultana herself.” she recited aloud, an announcement and reminder both.

She is a stranger here. She can never go home again.

[roegadynroost]

FFXIVwrite 2023 - 02 Bark

Crystal Ash could not remember her time before being amongst those of the Conjurer's guild. She grew up an orphan of Gridania, blessed that the elementals did see fit to spare her from the same cruel fate as her parents, waylaid and slew by Ixal. 

From the moment she could hold a wand she was seen with one, and though the halls of Stillglade Fane were nary a place conductive to rearing children, she was often there, underfoot of the healers and causing them many minor inconveniences.

If not for the patience of Brother E-Sumi-Yan and the others, she for sure would have lived a less fulfilling life. Their recognition of her talent for magic kept her on a steady path, and she grew into an adept mage.

There were few Roegadyn in the Twelveswood and fewer still those of the Viera, but somehow she found her place amongst the Elezen, Hyur and Miqo'te without too much ill attention. The Elezen children were taller until they were not, the Hyur saw her as not different from the cat-earred Miqo'te, and the Miqo'te themselves usually mistook her to just be tall.

It was her sixteenth summer that she suddenly shot up, surpassing all her peers in height, and attracting a bit of unkind attention from those less inclined to accept outsiders. However by then she was well established in her learning and confidence and did not allow for strangers to bother her.

Crystal had seen twenty summers come and go before she knew it, and she had become a very integral part of Gridania's weave. When not meditating in the fane, she was oft lending a hand to the botanist's guild, tending plants at Greatloam Growery or foraging the woods for whatever bounty the surroundings had to offer. Crystal loved her life, she loved the shroud, and never imagined herself leaving the shaded boughs. 

It was after a very successful trip of foraging in Treespeak that she was returning to Gridania in the afternoon, just before the sun had completely disappeared beneath the treeline. Crystal had been gathering all around North Shroud, attempting to fill orders for the Adventurer's guild and the Carpenter's guild. She had a good haul of things Miounne had asked for, which she planned to deliver to her personally, and though she was tired, she was still in good spirits.

Crystal followed the road back to the city, enjoying the sounds of the forest. Birds chirping, leaves rustling in a gentle breeze above. Then there was a low and strained sound, like that of someone in pain. If not for her exceptional hearing she might have missed it. Her blue eyes narrowed warily as she veered off the beaten path. 

The area was known for being swarmed with Ixal, and on more than one occasion had she been pelted with stones by mischievous opo-opo, so Crystal found herself on edge, ears perked and alert atop her head.

Again the pitiful sound filled the air, this time closer, and Crystal urgently scanned the brush until her eyes landed on the outline of a man cast in shadow. He was very still, his slumped figure almost completely hidden between the rock face and a tree. Without hesitation she bolted over, jumping clear through the brush to get to him.

"Oh my goodness, are you alright?" Crystal blurted, but it was clear that the man was not. In dim warm light she could see he was battered and bloody, the leathers he wore pierced through, hiding beneath them terrible seeping wounds, his blonde hair plastered to his face by the dark liquid. "What happened to you?" she asked, looking into his face.

He was an Elezen man with pallid skin, though she could not tell if the color was because of a loss of blood, or if it was his natural complexion. His eyes were skewed shut in pain, a low gurgle wheezing up from him as he breathed. 

Crystal knew his injuries were grave and if he were not treated soon, he would no doubt parish. Quickly she laid her hands upon the worst of his injuries, channeling aether to what seemed to be the worst of his wounds to stabilize him. Once she was done with her ministrations, the blood-flow slowed. Crystal adjusted the pack upon her back and pulled the man into her arms. Though he was about the same height as her, his lithe frame allowed for him to be lifted with ease. 

Crystal thought only for a moment of where she would be going. Hyrstmill was in the north, Fallgourd Float to the west and Gridania in the west, but she knew the longer she took to get him help, the less chance he would be able to make a recovery. She made for the south, where right up the way the Treespeak stables stood.

---

Crystal had been to the Treespeak stables many a time. The Greatloam Growery coveted their fertilizer, and she would help transport it from time to time. However, she'd never been into the stable proper. Young chocobo were easily frightened, and they always asked those that didn't work with the birds to keep their distance. She never thought her first time inside would be under these circumstances.

She came up the hill, shouting to the Wood Wailers standing guard, she was thankful that they didn't ask too many questions before ushering her up into the building. There was a little room annexed away from the stables. It was just enough room for a chair and a cot, but it was clean and it was all she needed.

Tasking the sentries to send for a more experienced healer, Crystal had set about helping the man to the best of her abilities. She peeled his bloodstained leathers from his skin, till all of his wounds were bared to her. She thanked one of the stable hands profusely as he had boiled some water for her and brought some sterile rags, and went about cleaning him off.

If she were not so concerned with saving him, Crystal would have thought how handsome he was. The man was all lean muscle and sinew. As the blood on his face was wiped away a tattoo was uncovered, orange ink emblazoned into his silvery skin. His hair was mostly pale, a gold so light it reminded her of the color of flour. There were was looked to be streaks of a darker color as well, but with the blood staining him, she was not sure if it was natural or otherwise.

Most of the cuts were superficial thankfully, but even the least life threatening looked irritated. Crystal had seen similar wounds before when helping a poor soul that had come through the Shroud before. Ochu were prevalent throughout the great forest. The wounds were usually superficial, but a few more dangerous of the species would spit a nasty acidic mist.

Crystal had patched up the worst of the wounds, but still found his breathing labored. Perhaps he was dealing with a poison as well. She began sorting through her pack, pulling out all the things she'd gathered that day and some other things she'd processed and packaged for delivery.

Sprigs of herbs sweet and savory, bundles of mushrooms and roots and fragrant flowers. She had one bag that she kept separate, full of more dangerous finds, ingredients for a much more learned Apothecary than her. However as she looked over the items, the gears in her head did turn and she found herself pulling out her mortar and pestle.

She dropped in a dried minty herb in and ground it into a fine dust, followed by a bitter herb something said to be good for the pain. She then reached for a strip of bark from her stash, something that she'd meant to give to Miounne. She'd gathered, stripped and dried the bark all on her own and had it tied in a neat little bow of leather ribbon.

Crystal couldn't resist giving it a sniff before she dropped it into the mortar. The smell was sweet and spicy, a fine cinnamon. She wasn't very good at harvesting it yet, so instead of the elegant curls of bark that you would find in the markets, these were thin strips of the stuff. She'd never suffered from embarrassment at her lack of skill, she happy to be learning, and she knew Miounne would love it all the more for the effort she put into gathering it.

With practiced hands Crystal began to crush and grind the bark into the herbs, it was much more work than the flimsy leaves, but she did it all the same, her practiced hands making relatively quick work of it.

The kettle she'd been brought had since gone cold, and so Crystal went out to ask for help and was directed by one of the stable hands to a small hearth right down the way from the room. It didn't take long to reheat the water, and she hurried back to the injured man.

Crystal held her breath as she entered the room, frightened that in that short amount of time away he would have perished. She was still there, eyes skewed in pain and breaths ragged however, and she almost sighed in relief at the sigh because even though he was in pain, it meant he was still there to be saved.

It took no time at all to dissolve the powder into the hot water, and then she was slowly and carefully wetting his mouth with it. Though he'd yet to speak, he eagerly gulped down the liquid. Crystal wondered if he must be still aware of her presence despite the pain, and she prayed to the Matron that the healer would make it sooner than later.

Hours passed with no word and before Crystal knew it the sun was rising again. The small cup of tea she'd made had steadily been drained over the evening, and come morning the mans labored breaths had slowed and steadied. She'd just been about to let herself relax when hurried footfalls alerted her once more.

---

When the healer arrived Crystal was relieved. He was a Hyur man of average height, in plain robes and a pointed hat. He asked her questions about the aid she'd given him, all the while apologizing profusely for his late arrival and praising her on her ministrations. Her medicine seemed to be doing the trick, it would just take them getting him to a more suitable place of rest and recovery, which the doctor had organized in form of a chocobo carriage awaiting them outside.

Crystal helped move the Elezen man into the landau, asking for a ride back to the city proper, where she allowed him to be taken care of by the healer in her stead. Though she did wonder of his safety, she kept herself preoccupied by diving back into work after getting a bit of rest herself.

---

It was after another day of foraging perhaps a moons time after the ordeal that Crystal was stopped on her way to her room by Miounne. The Elezen beauty nearly gushed with pride as she stopped her, beaming as she announced that Crystal had a visitor. 

Crystal was too tired to realize Miounne's strange behavior, but she curiously raised an eyebrow and followed the Elezen woman's gaze to a seat across the room to a man that was seated by himself. At the moment her eyes met his face, he happened to look up, and it was with trepidation that he stood. She recognized him immediately, the Elezen man she had helped.

Crystal found her feet moving before she could think to thank Miounne, and she met him a few steps from the table. She stood unblinking for a moment taking in his appearance. His grey skin was clean and unblemished, his hair pushed back into a sleek handsome style. He wore a plain tunic belted at the waist and a pair of rather tight looking leggings that showed off his long slender legs. A smile lit up her face as she looked him over.

The Elezen man blinked, a look of regret or pain flashing through his eyes for just a moment.

"Dearest Lady." He began, taking a knee carefully before her. "I was told when I woke from my slumber that to find mine savior I needed look for a brawny lass that worked for the Conjurer's guild, pray tell me it is you I have been waiting for?"

Crystal's eyes skewed wide in embarrassment as she panicked, trying to think of how to even reply.

"Br-BRAWNY?!" Was all she could muster.

Authors note:Oops this one is way longer than I mean to make it but whatever! It helped me with figuring out some of Crystal Ash's back story and how she met one of her retainers. I did want to write more about them getting to know one another but my gosh, I needed this to be done so I don't get to caught up in it. I really want to participate all month this time, so I can't let myself burn out on one piece.

[knifehecker]

wanted to draw my ffxiv character......

getting teleported back home after accidentally wandering into a high-level area:

[autumnslance]

30 Metamorphosis

Bremondt set the invoice on the counter. “An’ that should be the last of it.”

“Excellent,” Miounne answered, looking over the form before folding it and putting it in the drawer behind her counter. “Things have been picking up here since the lull in the fighting.”

“Best be on my way then,” the hyur replied with a teasing grin.

“Nonsense! There’s a bit of time for a meal--especially with a friend,” Miounne answered, looking past Bremondt, her expression brightening as she waved.

Bremondt turned and after a moment smiled as well, as Aeryn Striker crossed the main room of the Carline Canopy. Regulars--some native Gridanians, some adventurers--paused to watch her. A few obviously recognized her, elbowing their fellows and furtively whispering and watching. Others did not, their attention still caught by a confident adventurer in fine gear, striding over to the desk.

Aeryn nodded to them both. “Afternoon Miounne...Bremondt,” she said, taking a moment to look him over and making sure she had the right brother.

He chuckled. “Aye, it’s been too long, lass; ever since yer order moved out to Mor Dhona, we don’t see ye so often.” He sobered a bit. “Ah, speakin’ of, how’s Master Urianger an’ the others? Word’s been a bit scarce.”

“It’s...complicated,” Aeryn said with a bit of a helpless shrug.

“I can only imagine,” Miounne interjected. “I was just about to make this man sit for a proper dinner; why don’t you join us, Aeryn? You can tell us about your most recent adventures--what you can tell, anyroad.”

“‘Make’ she says,” Bremondt said to Aeryn. “As if anyone in their right mind needs convincin’ to eat Mother’s cookin’.”

Aeryn laughed and nodded her agreement, and they sat at a nearby table together, where she began to tell a few stories--first about her time in the Far East, freeing Doma from the Garleans, and then all that came after Ala Mhigo’s liberation.

By the time Miounne appeared with dinner, Aeryn was about to lapse into thoughtful silence again, debating what she could tell.

“If it’s classified, you don’t have to, no matter how much Bremondt demands,” Miounne said fondly, taking a seat and a plate for herself.

“It’s not that,” Aeryn replied with a shake of her head. She tucked back loose strands of black hair the motion had dislodged. “It’s just so….unbelieveable, and I lived it.”

“Epic, I believe is the term,” Bremondt said. “If it’s got someone as storied as you wonderin’ at it.” He chuckled at her smile and blushing.

That was still easy enough to do, but her smile was different; it was far from the only difference, he realized. The shy, almost awkward foreign girl he had shared a carriage with but a few short years ago had become the confident defender of the realm, power and a quiet weariness traced across her limbs and in the shape of her eyes and the curve of her smile.

“Become the sort of storied personage I can brag about havin' met, an' I'll consider us square,” he had said to her, once upon a time. She had done all that and more, while he and his brothers had watched her career with interest. In many ways, the metamorphosis from that fledgling adventurer to hero of the realm was inevitable.

He still felt a bit of a crack in his heart. He wasn’t responsible for any of it--he had simply recognized her potential for greatness from the outset, how could one not--but at the same time, those words now haunted him, and he had a feeling they always would.