Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It took Alphinaud a few minutes to come to. His head was pounding viciously, and his shaking hands took a moment to respond before they tried to pull his weight up from the slumped position on the floor. Where am I? What happened? His mind was slowly trying to catch up to speed on how he ended up on the floor, but he could only draw blanks outside of a few rough touches and sore injuries that flared up when trying to move. He felt something sticky as he was trying to pull himself up, and his body fell out from under him again with a resounding thud. With a raspy wheeze, the boy forced his eyes open to take a look at his surroundings, blinking to try and erase the black spots that encapsulated his eyesight. The room itself looked inconsequential; in reality, it probably was. But looking at the soft orange light that fell over the room, he could only register the sound of the distant fireplace roaring and the blood-red curtains that made his head spin because they matched the color of the streaks of liquid running down his forehead. ‘Oh, that’s what I touched,’ Alphinaud thought unhelpfully to himself, small smears of blood over his fingertips. The prideful, arrogant part of him screamed to get up but was easily drowned out by the overbearing shame he felt as he finally slid his knees underneath him and managed to pull himself into a slumped upright position on the floor, thoughts running on overdrive once he truly processed his state of disheveledness.

Trying to recall the situation in more detail, he didn’t remember any of what was going on outside of his body, aching deeply in a way he had never felt before. He managed to sit up and pieced together his surroundings slowly, eyes widening as he felt a notable pit in his stomach grow from the memories that slowly encroached onto him. Stubborn tears welled up in Alphinaud’s eyes that he refused to allow to fall – once already he allowed his arrogance to ruin him, and his pride couldn’t take the added blow of weakness. He moved a few ilms to the side – slowly at first, and then as rushed as possible as the sound of distant fighting grew from the direction of the mahogany doorway. Pointedly refusing to look down at his current state he stood, and he swallowed thickly as his legs and ribs screamed out in protest when trying to straighten his spine. Trembling hands reached out to re-button parts of his clothing that were haphazardly torn loose, shame growing behind each rushed moment. Alphinaud’s stomach hurt, his back ached, his legs trembled with the weight of holding himself up, and it was truly a nightmare to keep his thoughts from clouding over.

He was barely able to finish the last button of his jacket before he ended up doubling over, the only thing keeping him from collapsing on the floor was a chair off to the side he managed to brace his fall with. A cascade of shuddering breaths left his mouth as images of hands all over him, on his throat, on his shoulders, and his waist intruded in his mind, and it took everything in him to not collapse. A hand flew to his mouth, barely keeping himself from the instinct to hurl at the fragments of memories he was putting back together. He forced himself to breathe even when his lungs felt like they were going to burst, and the dots growing in his vision flickered away slowly.

Within the time he was struggling to keep his head above water, he couldn’t help but spiral into all the choices that led him to this path of destruction. His arrogance was maybe the worst part of it; believing himself a genius so much so that he triumphed over the intelligence of those in power around him. Perhaps it was his misguided attempt to create a decentralized military force and believing himself the best leader of the said initiative. Or it could have been the decision to leave Sharlayan at all – holding himself as if he was the best of the best the Studium had to offer to try and follow his grandfather’s footsteps – when he was nothing but a barely-19-year-old who was critically in over their head then, and a 20-year-old catastrophe now. He can already hear the sneer Father would lay upon him vibrating through his head, how ignorant, shallow, weak, and shameful his actions have been to the family name and Sharlayan’s reputation.

Or… perhaps his first true, and most critical miscalculation was splitting ways with Alisaie as she tried to warn him about the misgivings of the political conflicts she oh-so hated. Gods, he wished his sister were here. He may have been the ‘politician’ of the two, but she was always the one to snap him out of his thoughts when things had become turbulent with just the right amount of harsh words and rough actions. Another relationship he had irrecoverably damaged with his pride and naivety. He wished she was here to tell him what to do, to tell him what to say or that he would be okay. And she was distinctly missed, another thing he could potentially lose if this gets worse yet.

The simple mind loop that brought him back into the current situation hit him with another wave of nausea, gripping a nearby chair tightly as the only sense of reality he could latch onto. Alphinaud's stomach disagreed with the way it was being treated by the rest of his body, the continuous cramping making standing up nigh impossible. He tried to stabilize his breathing by muttering to himself, but the loud clashing of metal and the smell of burning wood told him he did not have a moment's wait.

Staggering with whatever energy he still had left and dressed in his ensemble now torn and roughly reassembled, he assessed where he could find his Grimoire. Alphinaud was in luck, indeed – the item was sitting on the desk just a few malms to his left. Each step vibrated like a punch to his lungs, but he pushed through it and barely managed to clasp his hand onto the front cover of the grimoire before the door to the room flung open.

He found himself scrambling to open the weapon, aetheric essence warping weakly around Alphinaud’s hand before finally pulsing and rippling to life and creating a jittery, vibrant Carbuncle to accompany him. The creature only took a moment to croon, waddling up to place its body underneath Alphinaud’s free hand not holding his weapon. Alphinaud flinched slightly before eyes shot down to notice it was his own summoned creature. He then almost immediately redirected his eyes to meet the intruder at the door, finding himself startled at who he was approached by. A lone Brave, shock clear on their face just like he himself. The Brave was a man with tall stature, lithe but clearly holding himself with experience. His armor was singed and dented in many places, and an ax he wielded intimidatingly covered in no shortage of blood.

“You’re… still alive.” The man muttered, with Alphinaud not deeming such inquiry worthy of a response. Or maybe that was due to the fact that his tongue was heavy as lead, and any word he said would have been useless prattle. In truth, he didn’t know why he was alive, whether it was because they assumed he would die trying to escape, or that they thought it was fun to leave him after brutalizing him.

The two started to track the other’s movement, and it only took the twitch of the Brave readjusting his ax and pointing it at Alphinaud for the Scion to spring into action, mind throwing itself into a rhythm he had become all-too-accustomed to in Eorzea – to strategize, to fight.

Alphinaud took a step back, body aching in protest slowly giving way to heart-pumping adrenaline. Now was not the time to act as if he were in shambles, but to focus as he always had. He flicked through pages quickly, hand landing on the spell he desired just as the Brave leaped forwards. A fireball, first small and then rapidly expanding collided with the man, but weak as it was it did not manage even to stagger him. The Elezen barely managed to throw himself into a rough roll to the side to miss the attack on him, a wet gasp of pain escaping his lips as he tried to reorient himself. The Brave took the opportunity to rush forwards again, and Alphinaud barely managed to mutter out a garbled order to his Carbuncle before the aetherial creature crooned again, taking its own initiative to jump onto the Brave and start scratching at him violently.

It was a struggle, but he managed to get his legs underneath him again, vision spinning as he tried to piece together his focus to find a spell that would be strong enough to get him out of this mess. He only barely contained his cry of relief when his weak body found purchase on the wall behind him to avoid sprawling out on the ground after a distinctly strong wave of dizziness, using it as a surface to slowly drag himself into a standing position. The Brave took that time to grab the Carbuncle by the scruff of its neck, careening the creature to the other side of the room. She let out a squeak, aetheric sparks flying all around it as she collided with the wall. Alphinaud could’ve wept at the fact that the Carbuncle kept its shape and immediately sprinted back at the now quickly-approaching figure, launching itself into and biting at the Brave’s neck.

‘What do I do? How do I stop this? Will anyone come for me? Think, think, think!’ was all Alphinaud could think, mind filling with static he fought against as he finally discovered the spell he wanted to use, words muttered in a quick rush and hands tracing the runes, voice just barely slurred as the Brave shrugged off the Carbuncle and continued his advance. Right as the man raised his axe high to deal a finishing blow, a violent spark of lighting shot from both his hand and the Carbuncle’s perched spot on the enemy’s shoulder, sending two high-voltage bolts into the enemy soldiers’ body. He tried to not throw up as his stomach turned at the now unique smell of fire, and the gurgling coming from the now convulsing figure on the ground didn’t help. Carbuncle jumped off just before the man collided with the ground to reunite with her owner. He jumped slightly at the loud clang of the axe colliding with the ground, stabbing itself just a breadth away from his feet into the floor.

Taking a raspy breath, he barely managed to hold himself together enough to stagger over to the fallen body before him. A hand raised quickly to his face to hold in his gag, the pungent smell of burnt flesh and fried cloth fraying his already haywire senses further. It took a few tries to get his hands steady enough to turn the man over onto his back, immediately noticing the emblem on the fallen’s chest. If it were possible, his heart would have dropped further when seeing the lower scout badge on the uniform. An almost-indescribable amount of paranoia took its grasp, eyes glazing over as his hands dug into the ground and dragged himself away from the body, the migraine that he barely managed to defend himself through coming into focus as his body allowed itself to process the adrenaline. Fighting the white flashes of pain in vision led to him gagging over bile he could scarcely keep down, the crooning of his Carbuncle jumping on the table to put into his neck just barely helping keep his grip on reality.

Alphinaud was forced to recognize something; The Crystal Braves didn’t just rebel on the higher levels of the organization, but all throughout, like a beehive planning to remove everything they deemed as unnecessary, to replace with a new leader after. The fighting throughout the halls finally clicked in his head, and he cursed himself for the weariness that made the observation so late-coming.

Petting the Carbuncle for a job well done, he scarcely could believe his ears when the door leading into his room creaked, and he found himself staring wide-eyed at the entrance.

The newly approaching man was a Lalafell, short in stature with dark tan skin and freckles dotted along his nose and cheeks. He had long brown hair and warm but serious brown eyes, and was adorned in what Alphinaud can only assume was Ul’Dahn-styled armor. The Lalafell looked confused for a moment as he looked Alphinaud over, and the Elezen froze in panic. Was this an intruder, perhaps a convoy sent to finish the jobs the brute before him and those of the previous encounter had clearly not completed, considering he was still alive and breathing (somehow).

These thoughts were thankfully abated when the person then looked over at the now dead Crystal Brave on the ground, sighing in relief and putting his sword away.

“Master Alphinaud! I am glad you are alright, I am here to help.” The man spoke as he clapped once, resolute.

“I am Pipin Tarupin, Vice Marshall of the Immortal Flames! I am here to deliver you out of the city-” the rest of his words were cut off, with Alphinaud barely hearing his words through the pounding of his head as he finally lost the grip he had on his nausea. Barely forcing his body to its side to throw up all over the tiled flooring, his vision went in and out of focus as he took gasping breaths. Hiccups forced their way through his throat as he tried to get himself back together, squeezing his eyes shut to attempt to steady himself from his swirling vision.

“-naud… - Alphinaud!” The Elezen felt his heart stutter as he flinched at his name being called so sharply near his ear. A whimper of pain fell from his lips as Pipin tried to grip his wrist and pressed on a sore developing bruise. The hand quickly moved away, instead resting on his back to rub unsure circles on it.

“Sorry… 'm sorry, I…” Alphinaud blindly tried to grip onto the nearby wall again, and he took deep rattling breaths to try and reduce the burning in his chest from lack of oxygen. The shouting and screams from outside the room only got louder, and Pipin was visibly getting agitated at the sound. Alphinaud tried to pull himself together as much as possible, but it was clearly not fast enough.

“Hey, I know you’re hurt- I don’t know how much, but we need to get you out of here as soon as possible, I don’t know when they’re going to check this room again. It’s not safe.” Pipin said.

“I- okay, okay, I am okay, it’s okay.” Alphinaud whispered this to himself, hoping that as he reiterated those words, they would feel less and less of a lie on his tongue. He tuned out Pipin’s insistent words, barely able to think past his own overwhelming disjointedness that trailed across his body, let alone also through another person’s anxiety. He forced himself to rise, even when his whole body pulsed and head tried to blank in fuzziness he had to fight against, and only the power of his Carbuncle trying to ground him by grabbing onto his leg as well as fiery-hot determination and grit kept him standing. Pipin sighed in relief, and the two were off.

It was slow – Alphinaud could barely move but still pushed his anguished body to the absolute limit as they fled the walls of Ul’Dah, the smell of soot and fire searing itself into his nose. His clothing, his whole body covered in ash and blood framed an overall nightmare he would nary forget. Only the chants of ‘it’s okay, don’t think about it, it’s okay, it didn’t happen, think about it later’ that he repeated to himself kept him moving, voice raw as he croaked it to himself under his breath. Though the general couldn’t hear him clearly enough to decipher the words, he knew Pipin was concerned if the way he looked back constantly were to be interpreted as worry. Everything started feeling as if it was underwater, ears constantly ringing and muffled with the sole goal of putting one foot in front of the other taking over his thoughts.

Even when reuniting with the Warrior of Light and being transported to Camp Dragonhead, Alphinaud couldn’t bring it within himself to speak. The longer he stood in this blissful blank space of his mind, the less intrusive thoughts he had to fight off. And he was so, so tired, rigid and pained body breaking into uncontrollable shivers that his brain didn’t allow him to process enough to stop. The feeling of soft and warm hands, hands that used to bring nothing but comfort, made him sharply jerk away with his already strained breathing falling completely erratic. Everything was so dizzying, his body was shutting down on him whether he consented to it or not, and whether it was from shock or an adrenaline drop didn’t matter. Alphinaud felt a calloused hand brush his hair back from his face, not before surrounding him in a soft blanket and leaning him onto a warm body that his brain barely managed to signify as ‘safe’. He barely found himself burying his head in Tali’s shoulder before he collapsed into her embrace like a marionette puppet that got its strings cut.

As the night dragged on, only the moonlight and the stars above watching their escape under the dark of night – and things seemed to have, for a lack of a better word (and perhaps thanks to Thancred’s influence), gone to all shite. The only thing keeping Alphinaud’s heart from pulsing out of his chest was the gentle embrace Tali maintained, rubbing his back every few moments as he squeezed himself as tightly to her as possible., even her tail wrapping around his side in just enough pressure to feel comforted. He had tried to apologize several times, words slurring together but wrought with guilt, only for her to refute it with a finality he had no courage to disparage.

Alphinaud couldn’t help but feel even more burdensome when he was almost immediately rushed to Chirurgeons. The embarrassment truly set in once he came to, with the trip from Thanalan to Coerthas spent slipping in and out of awareness. According to Tali, he had been walking with no focus in his eyes as if he didn’t perceive a single thing said or shown to him. It only made sense, considering the hazy memories of traveling were so minuscule. One moment he was walking with Pipin to the trade carriage out of Ul’Dah, the next they were on a nondescript road as he threw up whatever tiny bits of bile were left in his stomach, and only flashes of Tali and Tataru’s face mid-conversation stuck in his head as distinct moments.

It was the sharp stink of something that fully snapped him back to reality, blinking blearily as he took in the stone building he was suddenly in. There was a long table by a campfire, a tapestry covered in Ishgardian colors the only indicator of where they were, and only the violent winds of the snowstorm happening outside were audible.

“...Hey.” Alphinaud looked up, noticing Tali standing above him. He didn’t know how to respond to her, taking in her misshapen appearance. Her short hair was not twisted into a bun, and her normal braid that framed the side of her face was loose and wavy instead. The war paint that normally adorned her face was nowhere to be seen, green eyes suddenly so normal with her flushed cheeks and healing split lip. She had even changed from her typical battle attire, instead adorned in a comfortable tunic and trousers, a thick wool coat thrown over her for extra warmth. Her ears were pressed down onto her head, and he only barely remembered her particular sensitivities to the cold as she bore mittens and her tail was hidden underneath her upper layers.

Alphinaud, no matter how much he wanted to speak, and no matter how much he wanted to say, was helpless. The words cycling in his head rapidly were too much for him to put into words. Instead, he leaned on the back of the chair he found himself in, humming just loud enough to be heard before he broke into rattling coughs.

“Oh! Uhm- here, hold on a second-” Tali motioned to give him a cup in her hands (she was holding a cup? He couldn’t even remember-). Grabbing it from her hands, he shivered at its warmth, taking a small sip. The touch of warm chocolate hitting the back of his throat made him groan, quickly downing the rest in newfound and ravaging thirst. All the while, Tali looked on in such sadness, positioning herself in a nearby chair and not looking away for a moment.

Everything felt too raw, too delicate to prod at, and he knew if he allowed it to go further, everyone would question what he experienced. Granted, it would come from a place of love, but it would do nothing but pull at the already ripped open crater that planted itself firmly in his breast and did nothing but spread as he continued to be stared at. Before she could say a word, he closed his eyes, putting the cup on the table in front of him after a long sip. He did not want to speak; he wanted to sit in his blissful silence and pretend to be anywhere but in his body at the current moment, but he found the strength to force his vocal chords to work anyway.

“The Braves turned on me and attacked me. I fell unconscious, and I could not tell you what happened between then and waking up. I was left alone in a room, I suppose they thought I was going to be out of commission for longer than I was, because a Brave walked into the room as I got my Grimoire back. We fought, General Tarupin showed up, and now I’m here.” He rushed all the words out as quickly as possible, fighting against the tremors vibrating through his body to make sure it was as legible and stable as possible.

“I… I thought I was going to die, I thought everyone else was dead, I kept hearing screaming when we were fleeing, there was so much-” The woman didn’t let him finish his thought, instead getting up and wrapping the Elezen in another hug. He didn’t know how to respond, too tired to even flinch away from the touch, he quickly found himself burying his face in her shoulder. No matter how much he tried he couldn’t stop himself from shaking, the force of it growing even stronger as she held him securely to her.

“It’s ok.” He clung onto every word she said, breath hitching and hands gripping onto her clothes in a vice grip. “It’ll be okay, Alphinaud. We’re safe, everything’s gonna be okay, we’ll figure this out. You’re not alone. Tataru and I are here, okay?”

He nodded, letting the first few tears fall as she clung onto him tighter, her own shoulders shaking as they cried with each other. His heart ached for something better than that, better than the situation they were put in. He wanted the Scions back, he wanted his mistakes to have never happened.

All his pleading was for naught, as all they could do was sit, and wait.

Chapter Text

“Teach me how to fight.”

Thancred looked down at Alphinaud, eyebrows raised. He was in the middle of polishing his daggers and was sitting on a nearby table. He looked amused at best at Alphinaud’s words, and a bud of frustration grew in Alphinaud’s chest. The grip he had on the sword in his hand was shaky at best, and he definitely should have second guessed how heavy the damned thing was before walking over, but he couldn’t admit that now, not after already starting the conversation before he became too cowardly to ask.

“Yeah, you should put that down before you hurt yourself.”

“Teach me to fight and I won’t hurt myself, then.” He gripped the handle tighter, moving to stand directly in front of the Hyur instead of to the side. Thancred sighed before putting his own weapons to the side, leaning his elbows on his legs and staring into Alphinaud’s eyes directly. He didn’t flinch even as anxiety built, and the man looked him dead in the eye. Not motioning to completely dismiss him, the young Elezen found his resolve solid.

“Why do you want to learn to use a weapon so much, you quite literally have a Grimoire right next to you.” It was clear he was more curious than anything, and Alphinaud took the opportunity to explain himself.

“You are right. I trained my whole life to use a Grimoire effectively and quickly. To rattle off spells with nary a look or touch of my weapon – to summon a carbuncle to handle most of the physical combat for me as a last resort. But I-” Alphinaud looked at the door in which behind it was his sister lying asleep, fully aware that but a few weeks ago she was enthralled with poison in her system and suffering. Though they have returned no worse for wear from Xelphatol, there was much and more to do, and he knew they only had a day or two at best before they’d be off handling the Warriors of Darkness and their next plan.

“What if I don’t have my Grimoire? Someone takes it out of my hand, or knocks me back, or I can’t reach it before someone is swinging a sword at me. I cannot… I cannot be helpless. I won’t be.”

The man stared at him, face indecipherable before he grumbled, standing up and turning away from him yet again. Alphinaud’s hands trembled and he grit his teeth in anger. He motioned to try and stand in front of the man again, mentally steeling himself for the arguments at the tip of his tongue he had practiced all night.

Suddenly, he felt everything slow down as Thancred spun around, knocking him off balance by kicking the sword to the right. He yelped as he tried to keep his grip on it, only for Thancred to grab his wrist and twist it, sharp pain radiating his arm as the weapon dropped from his hand and onto the floor. Taking a step back was his only option, but that was met with a foot to the back of his ankle, and he tripped straight onto his back. The Hyur stood over him, not a breadth winded from the altercation as Alphinaud tried to calibrate what just happened. Any words he tried to muster up now were jumbled in his head as he tried to not let the mortification of the situation linger any further. Thancred walked over, a grimace on his face that only hurt Alphinaud’s pride even more as he offered a hand up. Taking it, Alphinaud pulled himself up and tried to pull his thoughts in order at the same time, struggling immensely to do so.

“I- I am not good at weapons.” A scoff.

“Clearly, you aren’t.”

“I need to learn.” He whispered, staring at the sword on the ground. A similar sword was pressed at his throat just a winter ago where he was helpless and alone, terrified. Being pinned down, being laughed and jeered at as he begged for mercy. The sword trailing down his head to his sides, up to his neck, ripping fabric-

Even if he deserved it from all the people he hurt with his ignorance… a very deep, selfish, volatile part of his brain whispered that he didn’t want to hurt like this anymore. It ached to know that what happened was karmic justice; that he caused so much suffering, so much pain from his hubris. Several members of the Scions almost died, Minfilia died. And here he was, begging Thancred, desperate and pride completely shattered for help to escape further consequences for his actions. The audacity to ask for help running away from his responsibility was staggering and disgusted himself, gave himself shame that even though his actions caused Thancred so much suffering in particular, he’d dare to ask for help.

Every moment on the ground was as if the shadows all around him were constricting over his throat, and he tried to keep his volatile mind in check before his emotions overtook him. The memories were still too fresh, too deeply ingrained in his heart to brush off the way he wished he could. All Alphinaud knew was that whatever the cost, he had to get Thancred to help him. Even with the conflicting emotions that he had to sleep with, the shadows he had to fight against every night, he knew that he didn’t have any other choice. Alphinaud couldn’t go through what happened ever again.

“Yes, you obviously do need to learn.” Alphinaud’s head shot up, eyes watered and breath caught in his throat.

“Pardon?” The hope in his voice was palpable, but his mind was already too intertwined with turmoil to hide it.

“But we are not doing a sword. Daggers, maybe. Something small that you can hold onto that will not be half your bodyweight. I’d be partial to rapiers, but you should have a weapon as a backup that you can hide, not your main weapon since your Grimoire is already that.” Thancred rubbed his temple, groaning and grumbling as he turned away to pace a few ilms away. Every few moments Thancred turned to look at him, and the curiosity was still there, mixed with a mild alarm, and that was how Alphinaud noticed he was tearing up.

“...So you’ll teach me?”

Thancred finally looked at him, exasperated but caring. He walked over to rub his head a bit, and even though it felt relatively patronizing, it was also… comforting, somehow. He could understand why Alisaie enjoyed his company so much, even with such a conflicting interaction.

“Yes, I will teach you, because if you teach yourself dear Gods you will accidentally stab yourself by the end of this week, and if you are anything like your sister, you’d just do it without me. We do not have much time right now, however. So our focus will be to get you comfortable with a dagger and able to get out of harm's way, nothing more.” Walking over to the sword on the floor, Thancred picked it up, waving it around a few times before shrugging and leaning it against the doorframe.

“Our first priority is the Warriors of Darkness. Alisaie and I have some information about them, and once Tali is here, we must head out immediately. Once this mess is over… I will see to it. Sounds alright with you, I presume?”

He could barely hold in his tears as he bowed, squeezing his hands into fists as he wrapped his arms around his sides to avoid breaking down. A deep-seated relief flooded him, knowing that soon he’d have some means to protect himself, to make sure that what happened never happened again. Even with the relief that flooded through him, all it left was a residual pang of guilt. One day, he wished to live where he didn’t feel terrified of being hurt again, or guilt for having that dream in the first place.

“Thank you.”

Thancred didn’t seem to quite understand the gravity of his concession, which Alphinaud didn’t blame, but a tear slipped out as Thancred patted his back a few times in idle comfort.

“Chin up. You’ll be fine. I don’t know what this is about… but if it’s what I think it is, I can start to understand. Being vulnerable isn’t something one can shake off easily – everything in Ul’dah was a mess for all of us, so it’ll do everyone good to be vigilant. Just remember something, will you?”

Alphinaud looked up.

“Don’t let hypervigilance turn into paranoia. Safety first, but paranoia just makes you survive, not live.”

“...I promise.” He whispered out just a moment before the door slammed open, Aymeric and Tali rushing inside with cheeks red and clothes disheveled from their running in the snow.

“What is this about Alisaie being hurt?” Tali shouted, rushing immediately over to see what was going on. Thancred smiled at him one last time, before going to Tali’s side and catching her up to speed on what the Warriors of Darkness were doing.

Chapter Text

Working with Gaius, Severa, and Valdeaulin was… fine.

That’s what he told himself as they set up camp once again, this time within the foliage of the woods, stars peeking out from the canopy of trees above them. A fire was started though it was small to avoid too much smoke from revealing their position, and the four had taken out their food rations they had managed to store away from days of travel through a small imperial village. They had gone mostly unnoticed, Alphinaud somewhat proud of himself for managing to keep up with the rest of the party without revealing their positions. They all enjoyed their rations – dried jerky and some water they had managed to forage from a creek they came across on their travels. They weren’t too far from civilization – a half a day’s trip from the next village, and (if his calculations were correct), a day and a half away from the main Black Rose facility. Their plans for the dismantling of the experiment was concise, the party reviewing it and tweaking as their intel changed and ideas were formed. To get there timely, they opted for very few breaks, with some days even being spent walking through the night and into dawn only to take short naps before traveling again.

He felt regret that even with their fast pace, they would be going faster yet if Alphinaud was adjusted to their schedule. With that not being the case they worked in extra breaks for him, something that inflicted ire as he tried to grit through the exhaustion to the best of his abilities without much success. Severa had tried to pat him awkwardly on the shoulder a few times to reassure him that his weaknesses were not particularly irritating or problematic, but the glares Valdeaulin sent over Severa’s shoulder told a much different story.

To be quite blunt; Valdeaulin didn’t seem to like him very much. Though as they traveled, Alphinaud struggled to find if he quite liked anyone, and has yet to find anything to dissent that opinion at the moment.

Alphinaud shivered slightly as goosebumps raised on his skin, gaze withdrawing from the fire to instead look out from the clearing and into the thick of the woods, eyes straining to notice anything amiss.

“See something?” Alphinaud frowned at Severa’s concerns, leaning forward just lightly to see any signs of a person there. Even after a few moments nothing arose, and he allowed himself to relax minutely as he turned to the woman.

“I… probably not, maybe a trick of the light?” He attempted to reassure, though his gut feeling was saying otherwise. She took a look where he was previously staring, shrugging after a few moments in agreement.

The two continued to eat, Valdeaulin and Gaius having already finished and went on to being engrossed in a book and sharpening their gunblade respectively. It was rare they spent actual time resting in-between their progress to their important mission, but Alphinaud found himself taking advantage of their current positions to document what they had learned so far. All and all… It was quiet. Perhaps that was the first thing he should have picked up on. There were no birds, no animals running amok, and the silence quickly turned from calming to unnerving. Gaius was ever quick to notice, the man holding his gunblade to his side as he stood up. Whether he made to patrol or not, it was quickly thwarted by the crack of a gunshot, bullet lodging into Gaius’ side.

Everyone sprung to action, Severa jumping up to tackle Gaius to the ground before another round of shots went off, Valdeaulin grabbing his own staff only to be quickly apprehended by two imperial units. Alphinaud made to grab his own grimoire, barely able to get a finger on it before he felt an arm grab his wrist, twist it behind his back, and slam him into the ground. He coughed as the swift takedown winded him, gritting his teeth from the pain and turning his head to try and see where everyone else was. Severa was dragged away from Gaius and restrained, a quick pile being made of all their weapons into the middle of the camp.

Taking notes, there seemed to be six imperial soldiers in the clearing; assuming Alphinaud's guess that only one was above him was correct, anyway. Severa was also being held down by one, with Gaius and Valdeaulin being held by two. With how much the two lashed out, with Gaius even almost getting free at one point with a good kick to the shins, he understood why they divided their forces that way.

“How did you find us?” Gaius was not particularly warm in tone to the intruders, face being pressed further in the dirt as one of the soldiers on him, feminine voice ringing out from her helmet, laughed.

“Saw the smoke, was curious as to what villagers decided to sneak outside of curfew so close to the border. Thought we’d find something suspicious. Note our surprise when you showed up. Returning you to the city to be hung for treason against the Empire is the best you can expect.”

“Let us go!” Severa managed to get her arm out from an imperial’s grasp, barely able to land a solid punch before being grabbed by her throat and slammed harsher onto the ground. Alphinaud tried to break free, eyes jumping between the group as he tried to formulate a plan, something to get them out of this.

“Shut her up.” The woman shouted, and Alphinaud noted a sense of control she had over the patrol unit. Her uniform wasn’t different, however. Maybe a veteran among their rank? The way they almost immediately cowered at her words indicated so.

“Gaius we can take back to be tried, but there’s no possibility we can drag all of these other people with us, lest we give them a higher chance to use their evil magicks against us and allow him to escape. I think we should execute them here, and take Gaius back.” The one above Valdeaulin spoke, voice gritty and dark and filled with complete apathy. The words were callous, as if they were nothing but inconvenient cattle, and Alphinaud tried to shake off his own captor to no avail.

Valdeaulin’s captor took out his sword, all practicalities on stage as he moved the tip of his blade to Valdeaulin’s neck. The man below grit his teeth, pausing his frantic movements.

“If we’re going to do that, surely we can have some fun with these savages first, right?” The person on top of Alphinaud suggested, before moving so his knee pressed into the Academician’s back and the hand not on his wrist pinned him down by his neck.

“Fun?” The woman spoke again. “We did not come here to play, nor did we want to shame our people by acting like wild beasts.”

“But look at them! They assisted Gaius, and they’ve been involved in destroying our facilities if reports about the Shadowhunter align with their path. Why not experience joy as we dispose of these heretics?” Alphinaud shouted as he was suddenly rolled over, barely able to orient himself with his back being pressed against the dirt ground before a hand wrapped around and squeezed his neck. It wasn’t horribly tight at first but quickly gained pressure, air wheezing out of his lungs as he attempted to claw at the hand holding him down. Shouts melded together around him as he tried to get the man off of him, eyes barely visible through his visor but clouded in bloodlust. Whether it was him being small or the man on top of him being much larger, just a single hand wrapped around his neck and gripped tightly, another hand brushing across his cheek, hair and then down his side, and even with only one hand holding him down, Alphinaud felt shame build up as the grip didn’t budge.

“A swift and clean death is not something they are worthy of for aiding such a horrific betrayer. I will not rest until they grovel and apologize, and then their blood will serve as ultimate repentance. It’s just unfortunate, this one’s beautiful. I wonder if we had more time, how much I could make the savage cry before he begs for death.”

As he was being choked, his mind flashed to so many things. To the Scions and his promise to return safe, to his sister who would wonder where he was, to Tali struggling to lose another comrade. Of the bloody banquet, of wanting to live. Not cowering in corners, not feeling like he was unraveling into pieces as he was ripped apart.

He didn’t want to die. Not after everything. Not like this. And frankly, he was sick and tired of this fucking happening.

Alphinaud kicked his leg out, barely able to rattle the man as the chokehold tightened. He moved one hand to grab the wrist holding him down, scratching at that with tears beading in his eyes as his other hand shook violently. His leg jerked again, pleading for the man to not notice he was using the shaky movement to gain traction on the ground and slowly inch his foot upwards, closer to his torso. His vision was blotting out at that point, body getting cold and terror melding into the rest of his muddied senses as he pulled taunt as hard as he could forward. Just barely his hand brushed against the side of his thigh-high boots, and he shoved his hand inwards, grasping the dagger nestled within as tight as he could muster. He swung his arm out, knife slashing at the man’s throat. It wasn’t a particularly harsh slash, but strong enough to cut through the very soft mesh protecting the vital organ and slicing his throat, the gurgle and spray of blood hitting Alphinaud’s face as he gasped desperately for air. The dead weight of the man collapsed on him, and it took all of his energy and using his legs as extra grip on the ground to shove him off and to the side to choke on his own blood. For extra measure Alphinaud swung on top of him, getting the knife more securely flipped in his hand as he stabbed downwards into the man’s chest, the squelch of blade slicing flesh just barely over the sound of the imperial wheezing his final breath.

The attack sparked another fire, the leader loosening her grip just slightly to come to her fallen allies’ aid only to be knocked over by Gaius. Within a few seconds he was on his feet, gunblade in hand, eliminating the woman with one decisive swing of his sword as he cut her down. His vision was blurry and lungs screamed for air, but he forced himself to crawl to his grimoire. With his throat in agony and body still sluggish as it tried to suck in desperately needed air, a spell managed to spark to life in his hand and towards Severa’s captor the minute he could open his tome, the man flying backwards just enough for Severa to kick him in the gut, clamoring for her spear. He tried to attack her again with his sword, only for her to deflect it, swinging it up before spinning around and jabbing him clean through his heart, kicking her foot out and using the momentum to deftly cut across the imperials’ throat to make sure the job was done. She jumped in to help Gaius, who quickly overpowered the other man who was holding him down. Only the men above Valdeaulin remained, though they quickly tried to scramble and run. Alphinaud shoved Valdeaulin’s staff towards him as the men got up, quickly being stopped by Valdeaulin’s own well-crafted spell erupting them into flames as their charred bodies hit the ground.

Almost as soon as it all started, it ended. The silence was back, twice as oppressive and ominous in its safety. Valdeaulin grumbled and stomped the fire he caused out, residual anger and bitterness clear in the taller Elezen’s face. Severa rushed over to check on Gaius, who was holding his side that continued to bleed profusely from his wound. Gaius waved her off, instead looking at Alphinaud.

Getting his breathing under control felt impossible, throat swelling up to barely get in a breadth of air as his violently shaking hand rested on his neck. He winced, before ice-cold relief flooded him from his use of Physick. Severa guided Gaius to sit down with a scowl and then walked over to help Alphinaud sit up, in which he garbled some semblance of a word that he hoped was thanks as she leaned him on a nearby log.

Being stared at was an uncomfortable feeling, and the way Gaius did so unflinchingly left him feeling vulnerable. Even so, he didn’t realize how shaken he was until Severa tried to place her hand on his to pry the dagger away, only just noticing how numb his whole body felt. Every time he blinked he saw vestiges of the man on him, eyes clouded in anger and vile madness, of red curtains and fireplaces and orange-lantern lights and you deserve it cry for me-

He robotically wiped the blood from his dagger, and placed it back in its scabbard in his shoe. Severa sighed in relief once the weapon was out of sight, and he had to wonder just how bad he looked for her to be so concerned over the weapon in his hand.

To be completely reasonable to her, he wasn’t even sure on how stable he was right now. Everything felt like a lucid dream, one that he wished to wake up from as soon as possible.

Gaius scoffed under his breath, the ghost of a smile on his face. Alphinaud hummed in response, question obvious but vocal chords not cooperating with him.

“You continue to impress and confuse me.” Was all he felt the need to clarify. The younger Elezen didn’t know quite how to respond, but he did what he knew how to do when in a panic, a method he learned quickly when breaking down wasn't an option. He stood up on shaky legs, stumbling over to Gaius’s side with his grimoire now cradled to his chest. Without a word the start of healing channeled through his hands and to the man’s bullet wound with nary a word; just secretly relieved that the bullet made a clean shot in and out.

A wet laugh fell from his lips as he thought of the current situation in more detail, blood now drying on his face and the nighttime causing him to shiver for more than one reason.

“What’s with the laugh?” Alphinaud shook his head at Valdeaulin’s sharp jab, not dignifying it with an answer.

All he could think of was that Thancred would be glad to know that his dagger very quickly came to good use.

Chapter Text

“Have you ever ridden a chocobo?” was not a sentence he was expecting to be pointed at him, let alone by Ryne of all people. They were enjoying their time after leaving Amaurot and swimming out of the Tempest (something that made him shudder at the thought of), sitting on the steps leading into the Ocular as they waited for the rest of the Scions to be done with their idle tasks they decided to run off and do.

“I have a few times, not so much on the First due to its prominence using Amaro, but I assume you know that.”

Ryne shook her head, scooting over a bit closer as she felt comfortable enough to engage in conversation. Even after getting her own identity and becoming what Alphinaud could only describe her as an honorary Scion and something of a sister, she was still extremely timid when starting conversations. Alphinaud could relate to the jitters of being accepted in any type of engaged conversation, but while he had learned to work around said jitters by over-planning for any type of talking he had to do since a child, she did the opposite and tended to avoid it when possible.

“See… I have only ridden an Amaro a few times, and only during a lot of emergencies where I didn’t get to really enjoy it. I haven’t even really seen many Chocobos, let alone rode one. And Gaia recently let me know she’s never been on either at all, and well… I wanted to know which one was more fun to have her do. She rarely agrees to spend time with me, so I really want to make it count!” Seeing Ryne so determined on something was a nice change of pace, and he couldn’t help but smile at how in-depth she was planning this outing.

“Sounds like you’re trying to plan a date, is more like it.” Alisaie chirped in, walking down the steps with a glint in her eyes. Before he could even attempt to steer her away, he already knew he lost when she got like this.

“Alisaie, maybe now is not the time-”

“Oh hush, you.” Alisaie poked his head a bit roughly, a small ‘ow’ echoing as she squeezed her way in-between the two to sit down. “Just because you don’t feel anything for anyone in that kind of way doesn’t mean our Ryne here doesn’t know what a crush is.”

“Alisaie, I assure you that is not something I-'' Ryne's face flushed brightly at the implication, averting her gaze as her hands came to rest on her cheeks. With a quiet laugh, even he could admit he didn’t quite expect her to react in that way. Then again, Alisaie was the one who was in-tune with these kinds of intimate relationships, long since giving up on explaining to him the concept or feelings behind it as he would tend to stare at her blankly.

(Sometimes, he wondered if everything had slowed down for just a few months, if he wasn’t put in such a drowning situation with- everything, he could find it in himself to potentially be interested in romance with someone. It was hard to feel he wasn’t broken or damaged by his own mind, and he had to remind himself that even before those events transpired, he truly had no interest or care for intimate relationships.

Most of the time, that reminder was enough.)

“It’s okay to find Gaia pretty, I’ve never met the girl but from what you’ve raved about her, she seems like a lucky person to meet someone as caring as you to push her to try new things. And if I could give my opinion… Chocobo riding is very fun, even if you don’t rent them for traveling purposes. Maybe a picnic, get some food you both like and find a place you want to go to, hang out and enjoy the peace while it lasts, because we all know peace is like a broken clock that’s only right twice a day.”

Ryne wrinkled her nose in thought, and Alphinaud chuckled at how focused she was that he couldn’t help but recognize her similarities to Alisaie. They were nothing alike in terms of general appearance, attitude, or even personality, but the both of them had every small micro expression legible on their face, and even when they were convincing liars otherwise, their eyes told a different story.

“Don’t overthink it so much. Whether you have romantic feelings or not, you care for Gaia, no?” he pitched in.

“Of course I do! I… I really want to be friends with her.” Ryne admitted, pouting back on her face in full force. “I’ve never been able to pick who I want to be friends with, and I definitely don’t want to mess it up because I’m a klutz who has no idea what people do in their ‘free time’.”

Ryne took a moment to think more on her answer, and the twins looked at each other with the brief silence, eyebrows raised in a silent conversation. They came to a swift agreement, Alisaie swinging her arm around Ryne suddenly and leaning in closely. She whispered as if it were a secret, mirth in her voice audible but probably not recognizable to the redhead.

“If I may be so bold… do you have to do anything to enjoy your time with Gaia? I’m sure she would have just as much fun with you as you would with her, and I’m sure that would be obvious if you asked her, too.”

“I agree. Gaia has been through a lot, and has gone as far as to avoid talking to most of us Scions. She clearly cares about you if she’s willing to go out of her comfort zone, and I’m sure anything low-pressure would be an enjoyable time for both of you, regardless of what happens after.” He affirmed, leaning over his knee as well to huddle with the two. Ryne’s gaze flickered between the two, first in surprise and then in steeled determination at their words. She clapped her hands once, moving out of their huddle to stand up in a rush. She spinwheeled her arms to regain her balance as the sudden lurch upwards almost made her fall down the few steps left of the Ocular, jumping down to the ground level and turning to both of them.

“You’re right! She’s my friend, and she’s probably really nervous that she agreed to do something with me because she doesn’t enjoy social stuff much. I’m going to make it worth it to her! Chocobo ride, picnic, oh maybe I can get the bread from that new store in town…” Ryne trailed off before giving the two a thumbs up, grin bright as she ran off to put her growing master plan into action.

Alisaie and Alphinaud looked at each other again, the two openly laughing at her sporadic but endearing passion for just about anything.

“Say… you’ve always been hesitant about romance. Any lucky ladies or gentlemen on the First that finally opened your eyes?” Alisaie’s question was sudden, and Alphinaud’s smile immediately fell from his face at the inquiry. She noticed the visible shift in mood between the two, a pregnant pause resting between them as Alphinaud tried to find a satisfactory answer.

‘How much do I share without it being too much?’ He pondered, chin resting in his hand as he looked out at nothing in particular. He had the idea to simply dismiss the question and laugh it off altogether, but knew it was too late to cover up his pondering with a half-baked lie. Maybe just say he hadn’t met anyone interesting? It would also be a blatant lie, but a bit more believable. Even so, he had a feeling that Alisaie wasn’t going to take any answer that wasn’t completely genuine. Words came to his mind, and though he disliked being so open, it was probably the best bet to get out of this with his dignity in-tact.

“I… I don’t know if I could ever feel that way, honestly.” Were the words that stupidly idiotly what was wrong with him came out of his mouth instead of his perfectly crafted concession, and he quickly averted his stare into glaring at the ground. Why didn’t he just give a dismissive remark, now she was going to pry-

“What do you mean you can’t, ever? I suppose some people just do not feel physical attraction, but you seem a bit too unsure for that to be the case, and if that were the case, you would’ve just said that and not pondered so hard.” She paused, before tilting her head and placing her hand on his shoulder. “You… are you alright? You’re tearing up.”

Was he? His hand flew to his face, rubbing his eyes that he now noticed stinged. He took a deep breath and calmed his emotions down, cursing every god out there that he was so terrible at fibbing to his sister when it was important.

“I am fine, truly. I just… sometimes I don’t know.” A ball of anxiety clogged his throat, voice rattling as he tried to force words out of his lungs. He tried to ignore the sting in his chest that ached deeply, tried to cover its gaping claws before it ripped out more than he’d ever feel comfortable saying. His lungs felt like they were going to explode, and it was too late to lie, so…

“Sometimes, I feel like there’s something wrong with me. Ryne has how she feels for Gaia, Tali and G’raha, that Miqo’te she always is so sad about losing, you’ve had more crushes than we’ve had shared outfits growing up-” A punch to his shoulder made him laugh weakly, her half-fake pout cheering him up.

“-And then there’s… me.” he finished lamely.

“And then there’s you, my stupid, stupid brother who thinks being different is bad.” She rolled her eyes, hand twitching as if to shove him but thinking otherwise, instead wrapping around his shoulder lightly.

“Have you been worried about this the whole time?” He nodded, almost indecipherably so. “Oh gods… Alphinaud, sometimes people just don’t feel that way. You don’t have to force yourself into being okay with romance or physical intimacy or whatever it is you’re so worried about. If it happens, it happens, if it doesn’t, you’re still you. In fact, you can make it so all of us don’t fall into the trap of rose-tinted glasses in romance. You’ll be a mother hen forever.”

He groaned, the mere idea of babysitting Alisaie’s bad decisions of people she’s wanting to romance usually being bad news sounding like more a punishment than just dating someone he wasn’t interested in, at this point. The monster in his throat had finally quieted down, and though the pain remained, he was content in letting it simmer for now, instead enjoying the well-fought for sunlight as Alisaie grabbed him and pulled him down the Ocular and to the closest food place around.

Chapter Text

Everything felt hot. Too hot, too tight, too much. The world felt like it was going too fast and yet too slow, and Alphinaud was drowning under the weight. The crawling tendrils of his night terror just barely started retreating from the corners of his mind as he dragged his hand through his sweat-soaked hair and off his face, breaths uncontrolled and erratic. The room was a sense of calm to soothe the liquid panic in his veins, from the soft shine of candlelight from outside just barely peering through the bottom frame of his door, his window open and curtains softly blowing into a gentle breeze and forcing a shiver from his already tense body. The room was painted in the soft darkness, hues of blue and brown that reassured his brain that it was safe, the last vestiges of fear fading away as he dragged himself into a sitting position and peered over to the just-noticeable bed to his left that housed his sister. Soft snores and grumbles could be heard as she slept dead as a doornail, accenting the quiet in a way that was so distinctly his sister that he couldn’t help but feel at ease.

Soft footsteps joined the chorus of quiet and harmonious ambiance as he rose from his bed, grabbing his grimoire in one hand and his jacket in another. After checking one more time to make sure nothing was suspicious in the room and that his sister was safe, he took a swift exit, careful to avoid the typically creaky floorboards that he had committed to memory and applying gentleness to the door to avoid its typically irritating hinges from squeaking.

Getting outside from his room in the Rising Stones was an easy task, with the main plaza near the aetheryte completely deserted. Considering how early he was awake, he wasn’t surprised. Checking the time, Alphinaud was surprised to notice it was only the sixth bell, which meant he woke up much earlier than others once again.

Well.

Considering his muddled thoughts and the soft reminders of his previous nightmare lingering in the back of his mind, he wasn’t surprised. The Elezen knew he wasn’t going to fall asleep peacefully anytime soon, and decided to take the time he was allotted early to wake up more; perhaps to catch up on some work he wanted to finish, and also grab some breakfast. He was definitely not avoiding his problems, this was just… extra productivity, is all.

“Ah, good morning, Alphi!” He jumped slightly from his internal thoughts, attention then drawn to the front gate.

“Oh, you’re up early. Good morning to you too, Tali.” He smiled, the Warrior of Light grinning and waving at him. She wasn’t dressed in her usual combat gear, though her hair was just a bit of controlled chaos as it always was, barely maintained by a few braids that did their best to keep everything together. She was clad in overalls, a long-sleeve shirt, water boots, and a messy bun barely keeping her shoulder-length red hair together. In her hands was a tackle box, and she smiled at him in the same relaxed cheer she always exuded when the world wasn’t depending on her to slay Primals as if it were a breakfast snack.

“Couldn’t sleep and went fishing? Say, how many scrips have you pried from Rowena this week alone?” He teased lightly, whatever remnants of the hesitance of socializing this early fading away as he joined Tali in her walk through Revenant’s Toll.

“Aye, I almost always wake up early and fall asleep late, it’s a staple of traveling and having so much to do! And… ah… only a few… hm… thousand scrips? I’ve been good! And she’s going to cut me off for the week soon, anyway.” She grumbled, cheeks puffed out. “The Rising Stones is home, but it’s too… quiet. And everyone takes forever to wake up, even ‘Raha.”

She sighed fondly at the thought of her partner, before pausing. “Ah, one second!” Hopping up a few steps, she immediately went into crafting mode, working to quickly trade off all her materials for scrips and getting into a heated discussion as they haggled over price, quality, and worth. Soon hands started moving and she began trading her fish in.

Alphinaud took the lull in their conversation to stretch, yawning loudly as he tried to get a mental list of things that needed to be done by the end of the day together. Waiting for Krile and Tataru to secure their passage to Sharyalan was excruciatingly boring, and the lack of objective focus was driving him mad. He had a few loose ends to tie up in some work he was assisting Aymeric with, lending a hand with some investigations on the mysterious towers (though investigation on said towers have slowed down significantly as they hit an obvious roadblock), and he still sent letters back and forth to the First through Tali to advise Master Chai on the growth of Eulmore. And even with all of those tasks in mind, he was woefully underutilized in most cases. Alphinaud had been urged by many people to take the time to rest now that they could for the first time in quite a bit, but he knew he wasn’t the only one that felt… restless. Thancred was already vanishing from Revenant’s Toll at random points in time, coming back with a lot of mud on his clothes and no injuries in sight, shoulders relaxed and his eyes less agitated and stir-crazy. Y’Shtola spent many hours researching the towers with whatever dead ends they had at hand, growing frustrated in their lack of progress and becoming more exhausted by the day due to overwork. Urianger… to be honest, Alphinaud had no idea what Urianger did when he wasn’t with the rest of the Scions. The man was a stickler for privacy and secrecy, and the rest of the group had long since respected his space (so long as he respected their request for honesty). Regardless, he couldn’t imagine Urianger having the best of times in this situation, either.

If anything, Tali seemed to have taken the free time very well, whatever moment that wasn’t spent fawning over and taking care of the other Scions, assisting G’raha in getting re-acclimated to the Source, or crafting ended up being spent on her many… friends? Allies? Alphinaud wasn’t quite sure what to call them, but he was surprised when everywhere they went, she was approached for help on this or that mundane task. And not the world-is-ending-war types of efforts, but utilizing her craftsmanship skills, or just general tasks. She was an avid contributor to the House of Splendors, she picked random missions that allowed her to go fishing or find plants she needed for crafts, she cooked for the Scions whenever they had time, and she took pride in those talents. Her apparent knowledge of everyone also lends her to be a great letter carrier, especially when Revenant's Toll citizens wanted to send out messages to families in the main city-states. He still had no idea how she was able to fit in all her sparring with Estinien, crafting work, and taking periodic visits to the First to check in on Ryne and Eulmore for the group into one coherent schedule.

Thankfully, Alisaie had taken the request for them not to overwork themselves to heart even a fraction and had taken the time to help around Revenant’s Toll instead of running off. Whether it was lugging around bags of shipments to their rightful tent or defending the town from roaming creatures, she found genuine enjoyment in thrilling combat and staying fit without said combat being a life-or-death situation. Her dedication to helping others was admirable, and he made sure to turn a blind eye when she would quietly take the day and entertain the orphans of the city alongside those who had parents away in the army, or when she would hold free training sessions for teens to learn to protect themselves lest the town gets attacked and they’re in danger. He could see the longing in her eyes as she did so, though she was quick to hide it when he would approach her, and he knew to let demons lie. It wasn’t much of his business to pry into her invariable losses when in Amh Araeng a year ago, and she seemed quietly appreciative of that consideration even if she didn’t quite say it out loud. Even if he were to dare raise the question of what she had experienced, he knew she’d shut it down with a forced grin and a hand wave. On the other hand, he had seen her pause mid-sentence to correct a name she was about to say, or hesitate when a flower vendor would go through the city, eyes lingering on white lilies.

“Kiddo? You seem quite lost in your thoughts… Are you alright?” Tali’s gentle prodding once again startled Alphinaud out of his thoughts, and he could do nothing but abashedly smile and nod. That same assuredness went away relatively quickly when the Miqo'te moved to pat him on the shoulder lightly, and the aforementioned nightmare still burned a little too deeply into the back of his mind as he instinctively shied away from it. Once that happened he grimaced and internally groaned – once Tali was worried, you were never going to get between her and the truth, especially if she cared for you. She picked up all her items at such a rapid pace that he could barely vocalize his first objection before she motioned him to follow her and took off.

“Tali- you can’t just- wait for a second!” He shouted after, sprinting to catch up and never quite fully making up the distance. He may have had practice running and fighting, years of it in fact, but he was still never quite a fan of running unless it was for a distinct purpose, especially against someone with the stamina of ten horses like the Miqo'te in front of him. Whatever gods above seemed to be on his side though, as right when Alphinaud started feeling particularly exhausted, Tali had stopped running altogether. She had made it just outside of town again, to where he recognized a makeshift pier. Tali, G’raha, and oddly Thancred had decided to build it to allow for people to more easily fish in Revenant's Toll, and because Tali found it a calming hobby (Urianger of course completely avoided the area, citing something along the lines of ‘absolutely not going near that water if I do not have to’ but in a way his own.)

“What are we doing here, exactly?”

“You, Alphinaud, are upset.” She stated matter-of-factly. “And I knew if I asked you about it in town where people may overhear, you’d get all uncomfortable. And I know even you, a person who wakes up early, never wakes up directly at sunrise like this, so I know something is bothering you enough to try and walk it off. You did this a lot in Ishgard, too. We weren’t very close then, but I like to think we are now. So what in the world is going on, and how can I help?”

Alphinaud shuffled in place, looking back at the gates to the city. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted, nor felt comfortable having, frankly. Even after all this time, all the years he’s had to adjust, he still felt looming anxiety over his thoughts, and nights when he wakes up feeling asphyxiated all over again do not help curb his worries.

“I will not make you talk. I would never do so if you were distressed or hurting, and I want you to know that I’m here if you need someone to talk to. I know you and the other Scions are careful about what you tell me out of the kindness of your hearts to not overwhelm me, but… ah…” She paused, struggling to find the words. “...I guess what I am struggling to articulate is that I am not going to fall apart by supporting my family. I am well rested from the First, I am as stable as I can be mentally, and while I do not think what you’re feeling is directly correlated to the withholding of honesty to me, I just want to make it clear that I want to help you. And whatever you tell me is confidential, of course.”

“I-” The Elezen struggled to find words to properly express what he was mulling over, instead looking out into the water. Watching the waves crashing, the sound of the floor meeting the sea made him at ease, soothing the anxiety that had been lying like an undercurrent in his skin.

“I do not think you incapable of helping or supporting us, in fact, I believe you’re the most trustworthy comrade I could find. I hope I did not give off that impression. I just… had a night terror, and I couldn’t sleep.” Saying those words out loud… surprisingly helped, instead of weighing heavily on him as he expected. It had been so long since he felt anything other than shame when sharing his burdens, but time can certainly heal all wounds, and he was no exception. Alphinaud looked at Tali, and the Warrior of Light was staring at him so honestly, so genuinely, that he found himself putting his barriers down.

“When you fail, and let people down… and you face the consequences for that failure… is it justice? Divine punishment? What do you do when you regret something so deeply, so integral to your soul that it feels as if your burden has been etched into your soul permanently? That no matter how much you grow, change, or live spending every moment trying to fix it… it does not matter?”

The silence that immediately hushed the area made him shift uncomfortable, but he did not dare look at his companion. It gave him time to think a bit – and think he did. When he spoke his true feelings, he didn’t expect it to be quite so honest, or such a hard question to answer, and he felt the first sliver of shame well up as he asked it.

“What is this really about, Alphinaud?” Tali questioned.

“I do not know what you mean, it’s-”

“It’s not a hypothetical question, is it? You are one of the most intelligent men I know, you would not ask me this if you did not want me to pry. You’re much too smart and quick-witted with your words to be honest like this, and you know I’d hold you accountable to explaining your thoughts if you danced around your stresses.” His jaw shut tightly when she cut him off. She took the chance to continue, taking a few steps to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with him. Not too close, but close enough to know she was there.

“You give yourself a lot of grief… and it’s eating you up inside, you know? You can’t hold yourself responsible for every bad circumstance, or outcome. I would typically answer such folly with ‘actions have consequences’ or something of the like, but I know how you work. This is not about you making a mistake and taking accountability for it. Consequences for mistakes and failure are but natural, a thing in life we must all come to accept even if we struggle with swallowing our pride. But mistakes do not define our worth as a person, nor does it indicate to us that we deserve some kind of godly punishment, or being held to a pyre for a mistake. Consequences implies some form of natural response to a situation; if you stand in fire, you will get burned. If you jump off a building, you will break a bone. If you hurt someone’s feelings, you may lose that trust or relationship you previously built. But every situation is different, and the consequence has to be proportional to the crime. And frankly, I, nor anyone else around us can decide what that consequence is, nor are we qualified to. When Urianger betrayed our trust with his lack of honesty, we could’ve given him ‘consequences’ by removing ourselves from his life, or demanding more out of him, or a million other situations. The truth is, life is much more complicated than that, and genuine mistakes or oversights should not be treated on the same scale as heinous crimes or malicious abuses of others.”

Alphinaud toiled over her words quietly, vision unfocused as he tried to take in what she said. It was true that consequences are varied and complicated, and that there is no ‘right’ answer. But if what he had allowed to happen with his ignorance and arrogant behavior was unpunished, then he wouldn't have learned. Who is to say those affected by injustice don’t have the right to deign the punishment they deem fit onto the perpetrator?

“Listen, this kind of question is a bit complicated, and I feel I didn’t express my perspective very well. I’m not a politician no matter how long I’ve been in the Scions for, I’m a discount poet who also happens to fight Primals, and I fish.” Tali moved her tackle box to her other hand and ruffled his hair, earning a startled yelp as he tried and failed to keep it as neat as a half-fixed bed head could be.

“What I do know is that I’ve made many mistakes. I’ve let people down. I misunderstood intentions or wasn’t strong enough, or I honestly said the wrong thing and got people hurt. Or killed. My village was killed and I still do not know if I faced the right consequences for abandoning them to survive, or if I deserve to face consequences at all. And… there’s no one left to decide for me, so I do the best with what I have. What I do know is that mistakes don’t define you, and mistakes don’t give people a free pass to destroy you. And something that takes away your autonomy, your right to genuinely present and show how you take accountability, isn’t accountability. It’s vengeance. And everyone… deserve to be happy. To try things, to not be afraid of shadows of the past for sins you’ve more than done your best to atone for. You deserve to have a choice on how you progress in your future.”

Those words echoed in Alphinaud’s head like a siren, though Tali seemed unaware. She took a deep breath before picking up her things again. “I’ll give you some time to think on it, okay? In an hour or so I’ll start on breakfast, so be back at the Rising Stone by then or I’ll send Ephemie to nag you about it, and you know if she then rambles to Tataru about you being late-'' He waved quickly at that, face inflamed. Ephemie was kind hearted and loyal to a fault, but also a bit of a sticker to time commitments. And if she ran to Tataru, Tataru would then rant at him for making her worried, and it always led to more headache than worth.

“I’ll be there, promise, do not bother Ephemie, or Tataru for that matter. I just need to think, I’m not going to drown in the lake.” His rabble rushed out of his lips, and Tali simply let out a cackle to show that she was joking the whole time.

As she motioned to leave, he had one last question. He tried to keep his voice light, and cursed the weakness in it that caused it to sound so hesitant.

“If, hypothetically, something bad happened because of a mistake you made. Something… something that you felt you deserved but was also destroying you from the inside. What would you do?”

She paused, eyebrows furrowing as she stared directly at him. He felt his breath catch but did his best to hide his worries, even knowing that she was probably catching onto his anxieties rather well anyway. The question was loaded – and one that he was sure she didn’t have the most cut and dry answer to considering the vagueness of it. Instead of jumping on it and forcing him to speak however, she did something else entirely. She smiled, tilted her head, and looked at him with so much care that he felt like all his demons were on full display.

“I would probably take some time to myself to think, really think, and I’d try to keep it bottled up.” She sighed, but the smile didn’t lessen, it just became more genuine.

“Last time I did that, I almost turned into a Lightwarden. All my friends were there, running around trying to save me. Some struggled to see how much I was in pain and how much weight I bore, but in those moments they realized how much they placed on me, and they refused to let me down. And for a while... I pushed them away. I said I was fine, the pain wasn’t too painful, the agony was just temporary… even though they were all lies. And that whole time I was suffering, I could’ve reached a hand out. I could’ve told Ryne I was in pain and she would’ve used her abilities as Oracle to ease it, even a little. I would’ve told you and you would’ve offered me a shoulder to lean on or tea to drink when my hands were too weak to make my own. Y’Shtola would’ve researched faster somehow, Alisaie would run any errand I need all around the Crystarium… I would go on, but you get the point. What I am trying to say is, I would isolate myself in fear of burdening others, and I’d endure so much more pain than reaching out to those I love in doing so. But you don’t have to fall into that same destructive path I still fall into sometimes. And we’re all here when you’re well and truly ready to share your burdens. Until that time you are ready, we are here to help you take your mind off things.”

With that she waved at him and headed back into town, noting his complete silence as the shocked processing she expected him to fall into. He took a moment’s respite to sit down on the pier, looking into the water in contemplation. He saw a school of fish swimming around, the seaweed and other life coexisting in a way that let him take his mind off his existence, just for a little.

He… suddenly had a lot to think about, after all.

Chapter Text

When it all was said and done, everything devolved quite swiftly into a party.

Granted, he was not surprised that everyone decided to celebrate, but after the united front against the Telophoroi that resulted in the very new united front’s first victory, everyone insisted on grabbing as large a venue as possible and drinking until their heart's content. Of course they all decided to head to The Drowning Wench in Limsa Lominsa with its abundance of alcoholic beverages and spacious platforms to talk and party within.

Though it was decisively awkward for him to let his guard down around so many people… he did. Tali was there and right next to him at times, reassuring him and checking in on him while fluttering through the room like a bird preening under the spotlight. Witnessing her drag around G’raha and gush about him as she became less sober was also a treat, the man not knowing how to handle the Warrior of Light’s more… forward affections under the influence. And at the end of the day, Alphinaud finally managed to allow himself to relax a few hours into their festivities; his cheeks felt warm and hurt from smiling, his cup was graciously never filled with alcohol and instead a perfectly suitable replacement once he mentioned to the bartender he wasn’t particularly interested in the ‘drunk’ part of drinking, and he thoroughly enjoyed his perch at the bar as his dear friends all conversed with their friends and loved ones throughout the venue. Thancred, though much less of a seduction magnet as he used to be, still found himself floating around the room and talking to a gaggle of women, and even though his intentions were a bit more pure than previous gatherings, his reputation seemed to precede him with how much they fawned over him.

It was a particularly humorous image to witness, wondering what Ryne would think of her pseudo-parental figure being a mass seducer in the past. Knowing the girl, she would flounder at the mere thought and defend his make-belief honor with the genuine heart of someone who had no idea of his past escapades.

Nodding to the bartender in thanks as he was given another drink, he jumped at Alisaie’s sudden and swift entrance to his left, who swiftly dodged a group of party-goers to slide up onto the barstool next to him. She was exuberant, eyes bright in mischief and a smirk gracing her mouth that he hadn’t seen fall from her face all night. Even with the sweat coating her skin from all the ‘dancing’ (if you could call jumping around to mismatched beats alongside everyone else dancing), she seemed to not be tired one bit.

“What are you doing all by yourself over here? Even Urianger is having a riveting conversation with someone about astrology, he took out his cards and everything. Half of the people don’t even understand what he’s saying, but their drunk minds are completely enthralled regardless.” Alisaie immediately ordered for a refill on her mostly-empty glass of red wine she somehow managed to keep a grasp on throughout the nights’ festivities, taking a large sip the minute she could.

“People watching, mostly.” He confessed, leaning his chin on his palm as his eyes crossed Tali’s again, the Miqo’te twirling around with G’raha as he stumbled trying to keep up with her dancing. The joy in their face was obvious to all those around them, guests even amusingly moving out of the way as they danced to the rhythm of the mismatched beat. Everyone burst into laughter as the trumpet player fell completely off-key, their own inebriation obvious in the trembled notes coming from most of the woodwind players in the area.

“Do you think Tali will be embarrassed that she is doing this, come the ‘morrow?”

“Absolutely not.” Alphinaud got the feeling that she thought the mere idea of Tali being in any way bothered by her behavior was hilarious by the way she snickered. “She’s been wanting to court ‘Raha for… how long now? Since they first met at the Crystal Tower here on the Source all those years ago. They never had their chance before, but they have it now.” Alisaie shrugged. “Maybe she’ll be a bit bashful that everyone witnessed it publicly, but she’d never regret it.”

“Ah, I almost forgot about that. She had always talked of him, and while it took them a lot to get here… I am happy for her. Regardless, she seems happy. She hasn’t been so in a long time.” The two watched her fondly as the couple dancing took a pause break, laughing and cheering as Tali intertwined her hands with G’raha. His face reddened tremendously, Tali whisking the two off the dancefloor to sit down as they got enraptured in their own hushed conversation. The mood didn’t go down even as the sun started to set and their main dancers took a break, everyone taking the chance to sing and bellow in jubilant joy as the sun set. Almost in an instant, lanterns flickered on from among the whole area, the Drowning Wench flooded in yellow and white.

As for the twins, they found themselves ducking a few times as drinks flew over their heads, and it was a miracle a bar fight hadn’t started yet with how volatile everyone was getting as drunken stupor took over.

“They do deserve to be happy.” She didn’t mean to sound so wistful, but he turned to face her after he caught it in her voice, grabbing her hand right as she tried to busy herself with another sip.

“You’ll find someone. I know you’ve gone through much and more to find it. But if anyone is able to wade through the storm and find a way to reach their goals, it would be you.” Her previous smile returned to her face at those words, swirling her drink in her hand. He wished he could dig into her head, find some way to raise the hidden aches that seemed to always lurk in the shadows a malm away at the idea of love. Every now and then she’d try to touch something on her neck that wasn’t there, or have the words of someone on the tip of her tongue, but never has he heard it spoken out loud. The tears in her eyes when she walked back into Holminster Switch and didn’t return until sunrise, slightly less burdened but twice lonely, made his heart ache for her.

He gripped onto her hand tighter, pulling as to really get her attention. “I mean it. Have faith. You out of everyone I know, deserves to be happy. And I am not saying that because that’s my job as an older brother, but as someone who knows you will amaze whoever is lucky enough to be enamored by you.” She scoffed, kicking his leg with her own as her own cheeks flushed, just barely noticeable but still enough to know his words affected her.

“You are older by nary an hour, stop being so egotistical about it! And I don’t need to know I’m amazing, thank you!” She stood up, pouting at him dramatically. For a moment she paused, before hugging Alphinaud. It was sudden, but he was twice as enthusiastic about hugging her back, arms winding tightly around her and squeezing firmly. The two separated after a few seconds, always embarrassed of showing physical affection due to their preceding reputation of butting heads and not getting along, but glad they did so regardless.

“Try to have some fun, seriously! You cheered me up, so I can’t have you stay too sad tonight. Make a new friend or something of the sort.” He waved her off with a flipped finger, his sister taking it as the sarcastic huffing it was definitely meant to portray and walking away to talk to Lyse, who was sitting at an overflowing desk near M’Naago to join their currently failing drinking contest.

A loud clang and the soft breath of someone sitting down next to him snapped his attention almost immediately after the conversation ended, turning to the newcomer with a cursory glance. The man who sat down next to him was… surprisingly around his age, as well. Considering he was one of the youngest people a part of the offensive, it was a shock. The Miqo’te was of rather short and broad stature, green eyes bright and inquisitive and messy orange hair tied back in a bun. He was perhaps in his early twenties, and the string of dog tags on his neck became even more impressive. He had an array of freckles over his nose, and his skin was tanned and dotted with freckles all down his neck and on his exposed arms.

“You are rather elusive, you know that?” The man asked, thanking the bartender for the ale that was slid over to him.

“Pray tell what you mean?”

“Well,” the man took a swig of his drink, fingertips barely gripping the top edges of the glass delicately, swaying it back and forth to watch the drink slosh. “You are around my age, but such an integral part of most of our missions people can barely find time to talk to you. You’re always with your Scion friends, as well. No shame in that! It’s just become a bit of a game with some people to attempt to talk to you when the world isn’t in jeopardy. Seems like I won, with the person I wanted to meet the most, too.”

“I’m… not particularly interesting.” Inexplicably, Alphinauds’ face flushed a bright red. He couldn’t see himself in the mirror, but the man’s chuckle and his face heating wasn’t easily hidden. They met eye contact and the Elezen took a moment to figure out what to say, before he mentally berated himself for being strange in this interaction.

“Oh my lord, that’s adorable, are you flustered?” Alphinaud hissed at him to keep down, thanking Thaliak that no one seemed to overhear the man’s exclamation.

“W-what’s your name?” A throat clear. “I ah, presume you know mine, Alphinaud Leveilleur, but I was not privy to yours.”

“G’lyn.” A hand was outreached to him, and Alphinaud shook it, surprised at how enthusiastic G’lyn seemed to be. Attempting to understand why he was seen as ‘interesting’ was difficult; he didn’t view himself to be particularly boring, but while others enjoyed drinking, partying, or otherwise the adrenaline of a fight, he always found himself fancying the more passive of options. Debating theories or political topics, reading, and having fun by simply enjoying activities provided instead of being inebriated labeled him slightly as a ‘buzzkill’ to people of similar age. It would be a lie to say Alphinaud wasn’t flattered, especially since G’lyn was so genuine in his words.

“You know, you’re really cute-”

They both shouted when the bar table shook, one of the Ishgardian knights who had a little too many ales hopped onto the countertop, a few others doing so to dance and yell poorly tuned war ballads. The erratic noises only elevated his stuttering as he tried to process what he was just called.

Was G’lyn… flirting with him? The man seemed excessively kind, approaching him with a friendly smile and a gaze that made him feel flustered with every moment he was under it. But even so, Alphinaud had a never ending struggle with intimacy, and picking up signals. Did the man really like him? Was he overthinking it? At the off chance G’lyn was serious, Alphinaud struggled to know how to properly explain to him that it wouldn’t work out, and gods forbid he hurt the mans’ feelings for being forthcoming.

“I… that is very kind of you, but I-” A hand on Alphinaud’s thigh cut him off, body going rigid at the foreign touch. G’lyn didn’t seem to notice, leaning in further as he put his elbow on the table and leaned closer to Alphinaud’s face.

“You seem to like me if your red face, stuttering, and staring means what I think it does. Perhaps we can have some fun? Letting lose for one night, especially after a victory of this magnitude, would surely be excused by your friends. And… I wouldn’t mind spending it with someone as gorgeous as you.” His tongue felt like lead and he tried to convince himself it was different, the man wasn’t trying to be horrific, he simply picked up on the wrong signals and this was a huge miscommunication, he was fine.

Wasn’t this what he wanted, though? Alisaie herself even brought up that he’s sworn it all off without even trying, romance such a terrifying concept he didn’t deem himself worthy of, always picking at everyone who got close to his personal bubble as he checked off imaginary lists as to why he couldn’t justify being around them. The shame of his past shook him to the core and didn’t allow him to let anyone in lest he not decipher them from his abusers by accident, and his part in so many people’s suffering hung over his shoulder like a shadow, assuring him that he didn’t deserve it even if he did desire that closeness. Was that all he was going to do for the rest of his life? Be approached with the one thing he always wished he understood but could not, and hurt everyone in the process of his messy emotions?

Gods, he was so pathetic. How long was he going to panic over intimacy, something everyone around him thrived around, desired? He was hurt, but how long is it being hurt before he is just using it as an excuse? He may have not been romantically or intimately interested in anyone before the bloody banquet, but what if he just never gave himself the chance? He saw Alisaie’s feelings on her sleeve for every woman she fell for, he took another cursory glance at G’raha and Tali, both in their own world as they gave each other soft pecks in-between hushed whispers, saw Thancred chatting with a particularly elegant woman against a pillar, wine glasses in hand.

“I- uh, w-wait, I…”

“Sh… I know. I know what you want, I want it too.”

The hand inched up his thigh higher, resting on his hip as G’lyn leaned further still, lips hovering just over his own. It felt like he couldn’t breathe, his head yelling at him hundreds of discombobulated thoughts that made no coherent sense. His hands itched to push him away, to scream at him to stop, to grab onto him to stabilize himself. Should he just let him? G’lyn was being so kind and gentle, he wasn’t yelling at him or pinning him down or threatening him, he called him cute and sweet, he was giving Alphinaud an out. He wasn’t like the Braves or that imperial, there were no fears for his life if he said no, he just wasn’t taking his leave because he was an idiot stupid fucking moron why won’t you say anything he doesn’t know it’s your fault he’s been nothing but kind you’re just a whore you want this-

G’lyn kissed him.

A chilling cold took over all of Alphinaud's senses, unable to process anything as his mind blanked out. He felt numb, completely disconnected from his body as his thoughts hushed into an eerie silence. The silence rang in his ear growing louder and louder, before something snapped.

One moment G'lyn was there, lips pressed together as Alphinaud's side was awkwardly pinned into the bar counter, and the next G'lyn was slumped over a nearby pillar, stunned from a high powered Ruin spell that flew out of Alphinaud’s hand. Without his grimoire it seemed to spark out of control, less refined and more volatile as residual aether felt like a suffocating blanket over the room. His breastplate was warped with the imprint of his hand and melted from the blast, with his arm frozen outreached in front of him.

Somehow, everything felt twice as overwhelming when it fell into a hushed quiet. The music had abruptly stopped, and several higher generals had stood up after witnessing the violent altercation. All the bystanders previously oblivious of their precarious position were suddenly paying vast attention, eyes boring into him.

More eyes, more stares, more feeling like he was being picked apart like a treat fed to ravenous hunters – it felt like too much, too fast, too everything. He took a step backwards, legs almost giving out as the bar counter dug into his hip sharply. A blur of red came up to his side, and before he could even process who it was, his head whipped towards them. Alisaie’s hands shot up from her side in a placating motion, and it was only then that he realized that his whole body was trembling.

“Alphinaud, what-”

“‘S fine.” G’lyn’s wheezing wasn’t promising, but with some assistance he was able to loosen the breastplate’s straps on his back, throwing it to the side to show that the sear even did a number to his under armor, leather charred. “If he found me repulsive he could’ve just said something, not try to kill me, though. Was leading me on to thinkin’ you were interested worth it? Thought it would be funny? Were you repulsed by me, is that it?!”

Alisaie looked between the two in confusion, taking another step forward to touch Alphinaud’s shoulder. He knew she was trying to reassure him – she was his sister, she would never hurt him. This was the same sister who he played doctor with as a kid who would make up random illnesses so he can practice which spells would work best. Whenever they were bored they’d sneak to the manor’s roof with Louisoix’s telescope and stargaze until their parents caught them in the wee hours of the morning giggling to themselves. When he was being bullied when they first entered the Studium, she punched the upperclassmen so hard she almost got expelled, and had to make a ten page long essay on why nonviolence is key to knowledge. She was safe. She’d always been safe.

But right now, he couldn’t handle the look of questioning in her eyes, nor the thought of her touching him. The thought of anyone touching him. He was terrified to a degree he hadn’t experienced in a long time, and the first motion to touch him left him jerking away from her. Without explanation he felt his body move robotically against his will, away from her and out the archway of the bar entrance. As he left, the crowds opened wide to make way, each eye staring at him feeling like another hand at his throat. Tears were budding in his eyes but he squeezed onto every feeling he could grasp as tightly as possible as he fled from the scene. He aimlessly rushed down a ramp and into another section of Limsa, blurred vision making navigation all but impossible. At the bottom rung of the city he found a bench that was well abandoned, the wood splintered slightly and an area brisk with chilled winds, but alone. He sat down and curled his knees into his chest, taking a rattled breath as he stared up at the stars that were visible from his position. Anything to keep him from thinking about hands on his waist and voices in his ears and the feeling of softness pressing against his lips-

He gagged, barely keeping it together, before he started whispering the constellations he could notice in the sky to himself. He didn’t know a lot of them after a long break from stargazing, but he attempted it nonetheless. Voice trembling, vision hazy, his hands were shaking so badly he had to squeeze them in-between his thighs to keep them from aching. But he was alive. He was okay. They didn’t know.

He shoved it down, as deep and as far as he could, until every neuron of pain that was alight and terror-filled thought melded into a dull ache that verberated across his whole body as he shut down.

Chapter Text

He had just managed to sneak past the party that had migrated itself outside of the bar and into his inn room, forcing himself to sit down and look at the stacks of paper he had left on the desk. Ignorantly, childishly, hopefully Alphinaud had thought he would be able to enjoy the night and finish his numerous stacks of reports he had to get done in the morrow, but his desperation to keep his hands busy made him immediately get back to work with a fervor he was used to, but didn’t miss. It was a shame then when he heard his door open, and felt Alisaie’s stare from the doorway. Every fiber of his being was yelling at her to leave him alone lest he fall apart at her incessant prodding, and every moment he felt her staring at him on the back of his neck, gaze piercing, caused a sense of unease to build up in his chest.

“Okay, what in the seven hells is going on?” Alisaie was the first to break the tense silence between the two. Then the resounding thud of the door slammed, and he knew the two were well and truly alone without a prying ear in sight.

“Alisaie, let it go.” He said, not even turning to her as she tried to bulldoze her way into his thoughts. He continued his assignment, though all the words in his head had since melded together into a symphony of nonsense he knew he’d have to redo later. The quill barely touched the parchment before he paused, loud footsteps approaching the only warning he had before his sister wrenched his quill from his hand and threw it on the adjourning bed. His mouth opened slightly in shock, before turning to his sister fully.

“And what was that for, exactly?”

“What do you think? You cannot just blow up like a cerulean explosion like that and expect me not to be, I don’t know, worried, concerned?” Finally meeting her eyes, he took note of her tense eyebrows and eyes watered. Alphinaud swallowed, not anticipating the intensity of her expression nor the sincerity he felt from her as she not-so-gently placed a hand on his shoulder and shook it. They were both never amazing at holding secrets, it was one of their fatal flaws and biggest strengths. Both would rather argue for hours on end than hide something from the other, which led to many fights and a lot of hurt feelings, but a sense of honesty among the two. Seeing her so hurt by his secrecy hurt him, but he didn’t know what else to do.

“Alisaie, I do not know what you require of me, but I would like to actually get back to my assignments, so if you’d-” he stood up from his chair to reach for his quill once again, startling as instead of what he anticipated his sister to do (take the feather again), she instead grabbed his wrist, tugging rather harshly to get him to look at her. The two fell into a hushed silence as they stared at each other, Alphinaud wilting away from the piercing stare the longer it lasted until he weakly shrugged her hand off him, taking a half-step back to lean on his desk.

“He did something to you, didn’t he.” Her voice was tight, and she didn’t look to have any intention to leave.

“Alisaie, please.” It was a pathetic last-ditch plea, and he hated how weak his voice sounded in those moments. No matter what he said, he knew that if anyone could read his faltering weakness more than himself, it was his sister. Though she visibly relaxed, perhaps to try and alleviate the sense of being trapped he felt, she still refused to move.

“I don’t know what happened. I can’t know, really. But I do know my brother, and I know that whatever happened… Why didn’t you tell us? First that man was talking to you, and you looked… happy, if I could only assume, and suddenly you’re throwing a Gridanian lower ranking general into a pillar with electricity crackling everywhere. Even Tali seemed surprised that you ran out of the room in the way you did, and it was a hell of a time trying to smooth that over with the whole Alliance.”

“Because I-” His voice cracked, and he took a moment to breathe. “-Alisaie, I do not know how- if I can- how to say-.”

“You can. I know you can. I know you.” She spoke in a way that didn’t allow any wiggle room. “You do not run away from your struggles. You take every responsibility as if you will die without it, and you hate disappointing people. And I know that this?” She gestured to his disheveled state of being. “Is not like you. What are you so afraid of?”

It took a few moments for Alphinaud’s thoughts to spiral, and he forced himself to keep his shoulders straight and chin up even when his mind fell apart bit by bit. No matter how much he tried to keep calm, he felt trapped. Intrusive thoughts swirled in his head in a violent pattern as he tried to keep his breath steady. Murmurs of ‘tell her, see what she believes’ and ‘this is your fault, your repentance, don’t drag her into your mistakes’ vibrated in his skull, and it felt as if the walls were closing on him. Hands ripping at his hair, his neck, hot trails down his throat and into his waist, whispers of ‘what are you going to do, cry? No one will help you no one will know you’ve done this to yourself if you were strong you’d get out of this yourself you’re so pretty crying just like that cry for me-’

He broke.

“I don’t know-!” A hand suddenly slammed into his desk, and he barely felt the radiating pain up his hand as Alisaie moved quickly to grab it.

Staring down at his now bloody and quickly swelling hand was like watching an out of body experience.

Oh. He did that.

The next moment he had half-collapsed onto his knees, his breath coming much quicker as his damaged hand was cradled to his chest.

His sister moved cautiously now – crouching softly and making non-confrontational sounds of comfort as she tried to assess the situation. He could barely acknowledge said moves when his mind was playing on repeat horrors he couldn’t get himself out of, and only the taste of copper on his lips made him realize he was biting down on his inside of his cheek so hard it caused him to bleed.

“Is… is this okay?” She asked, and after a few moments of Alphinaud trying to decipher the words and process them enough to force out an answer, he nodded. The next feeling he had was a caress on his hurt hand, breath punching out of his chest at the gentle affection. She noticed the split crescent moon marks on his palm from tightening his fist too much, and the results from the resounding crack caused by the slam already started to show in the reddened skin on his wrist and the off angle it hung that he damaged something deeper than skin.

“You have been… upset. And angry, and so many other things. I’ve seen every part of you, that’s kind of what happens when you grow up together all your life.” Alisaie chuckled lightly, tapping his hand a few times while looking at him. Gently, she raised his injured hand and started to channel healing magics into the damage he accidentally caused.

“I’ve never seen you this scared. Not the kind of scared before you take a test, or the scared you were when you drew a girl in our last year of the Studium and you didn’t expect her to ask you out, the scared you when we were on a boat to Eorzea the first time, or the scared you were when you saw what horrors Lord Vauthry unleashed on his people. This is a visceral terror, something that has been haunting you for gods-knows how long. And I want to know who hurt you so badly that so quickly you lashed out and ran, so I can make sure they can’t walk after I’m done with them.” She took a deep breath.

“And lastly, I… I just want the truth. Nothing more, nothing less. If that’s all you can give me, a simple one-sentence answer on what’s going on, I’ll take it. Whatever secret you’re holding, you’ve been trying to keep it regardless of your sanity. I am so sorry I wasn’t there for you and I didn’t notice it sooner, Alphi.”

She spoke those words so earnestly, so plainly, that Alphinaud found all the fight building in his chest deflated. What was he supposed to say to that? His voice frayed in protest as he tried to get anything out.

“If I told you, could you… could you look away, maybe?” So many violent thoughts of shame and terror were words he left unspoken, though she seemed to understand to an extent anyway. Alisaie nodded after a moment's hesitation, eyes trying to decipher him and his tone before relenting to his request. What he didn’t expect was for Alisaie to grab him and drag them both onto the bed, his sister choosing to sit cross-legged on the corner and pointedly face the wall away from him. Alphinaud’s back leaned against hers, and with the warmth that Alisaie exuded, as well as the safety to know that no one would hear or walk into the room without him noticing first and foremost…

He told her.

“They- during the bloody banquet, there was. I wasn’t there. But I met up with everyone later. Sort of.” The words came out jumbled and messy at first, timeline jumping from past, present, and somewhere jumbled in-between, almost as if he were trying to describe a series of snapshots and pictures and he couldn’t quite focus the camera. Alisaie’s hand moved from resting on her side to slowly intertwining her fingers in his hands, and oh. He didn’t expect her to do this and to lean back more, being there for him in even such an awkward angle oh-so-gently that the first few beads of tears fell in those moments. Quickly after that, violent sobs followed as soft understanding translated into warmth in his chest, a reminder that he was okay. That if he fell apart, he wasn’t alone to put himself back together.

“I was with the Braves. I didn’t even know Her Majesty Nanamo was found dead until General Pipin escorted me out of the city and filled me in. But they- for obvious reasons, turned on me. I- I was talking to them and getting a status report and then the next thing I know, there’s a sword to my throat.” He barely managed to make it to the real ‘details’ about the bloody banquet before the words became lost to him, the few words he managed to stammer out causing her to hold his hand twice as tight as if she could squeeze all the suffering he had been through out of his body.

“What happened? You wouldn’t- excuse me for being bold, but you wouldn’t be this torn over someone just threatening you. And I apologize but I don’t follow how this has to do with what just happened last night, either.”

His grip on Alisaie’s hand tightened as he curled forwards, hand not outreached curled around his knees that were brought up to his chest. “Last night, when we were at the bar, the man… he flirted with me, and was so kind but also I didn’t know how to- to tell him to stop. I panicked, I… didn’t even realize I hit him until he was slammed into a wall. I could not even think, and everyone was staring at me, and it. It felt like it was happening again. He kept poking and prodding and I couldn’t- I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t yell, I can never yell-”

“Alphinaud, hey, hey, breathe, it’s okay, you’re safe here, if anyone tried anything I’d make sure they couldn’t walk I promise you.” Alisaie held his hand tighter, and Alphinaud hated himself. He hated everything about what was going on, he hated that he couldn’t just tell her what was going on, he hated that she sounded so worried and scared for him, he hated himself for being like this in the first place.

“It reminded me of before, of- at- at the banquet. It was- It was just threats, and then they just. I guess they saw me not crying or yelling for help as- humorous? Entertaining? I expected them to ask me for information on the Scions, to do something for them, or maybe just to taunt me. But suddenly they were laughing and leaning over me. And one of them uh. They put their sword down, and another grabbed me by the throat and slammed me into a wall. They were saying- a lot of stuff, I don’t-”

He gasped wetly, chest rattling as he tried to gasp air and felt himself suffocating from the memories; from the pain and suffering and feeling of bugs underneath his skin crawling around. He was terrified. His mind kept looping, remembering every touch, every grab, every whisper in his ear as he was pinned down. The horror he felt from remembering rivaled the pit of shame he felt having to recall any of the night, and only Alisaie’s quick thinking when he gagged over a particularly abhorrent memory saved the bedsheets underneath them from being covered in his bile as he threw up over the side. He felt her arms wrap around him, face buried in his shoulder in a way that he could faintly realize as her signaling ‘I’m still not looking’. Everything down to the bone felt icy and there was a level of detachment he felt in his body as he spoke his truth.

“-They said I’m pretty, and said I was even p-prettier when I c-cry- I…” Her arms tightened around him, and he closed his eyes as the pressure kept him from completely falling out of reality and into his memories. “One uh- one kissed me. And they wouldn’t s-stop and they kept getting worse and everyone was yelling and shouting and I was thrown to the ground and they wouldn’t stop I kept begging them to stop-” He shook his head, completely incoherent as he felt Alisaie’s breath on the side of his face and words of comfort draping over him like a warm blanket. After he gasped out the horrors that painted so much of his mind but never left the confines of his thoughts, the terror he felt as they jeered at and taunted him, pinned on the ground and begging them to just stop, Alisaie softly whispered into his ear ‘it wasn’t your fault’.

And he broke.

He finally allowed himself to grieve with a shuddering wail and the tightly wounded embrace of his sister being the only grounding he had. He grieved for the barely nineteen-year-old who felt nothing but shame for what he couldn’t control – even with his mistakes that he was willing to atone for, that didn’t make what happened okay. He grieved for the nineteen-year-old who felt so responsible for his missteps that he somehow tricked himself into believing he deserved to drown in the feeling of someone’s body forced onto him. And he grieved for the nineteen-year-old who convinced himself that the night terrors and inability to exist in peace were some type of karmic justice – that it was an excuse for someone to rip him apart and barely put him back together enough to function.

Incredulously, he realized something in these moments of torment that was looking through his memories. The pain that he had been holding onto so long, the night terrors and flinches at being grabbed, his terror of looking into a mirror had changed. Instead of just embarrassment and shame, he… felt a mix of those, and anger. The tears he was currently shedding into Alisaie’s shoulders are not only self-placement of blame for his own suffering, or guilt over allowing it to happen, but liquid-hot fury. His hands trembled and his shoulders tensed and he felt nothing but the desire to destroy everything around him, to use whatever spells he could think of to light everything and himself ablaze.

Why him? He was a stupid kid, but he didn’t deserve this, no one deserved this suffering, dear gods, why did he ever think it was his burden to be ripped apart and barely put back together-?

“I’ll kill them. All of them for you, if I have to. I’m sure I can work something out with Raubahn and Her Majesty. Anything you need.” He shook his head rapidly as he turned, only taking the loosened arms around him for a second before burying his face in her shoulder. She pulled him tightly to her immediately, as if holding him enough would squeeze all his pain away. This way, with her embracing him so protectively, her own hands trembling with much more fury than his was and with her thoughts so loud he could practically hear them, he felt like he could lay his emotions bare, just this once.

“I do not wish for any more harm or death. He was- G’lyn got the wrong message, he wasn’t, t-trying, it was my fault for not saying no. I don’t want to think about it. I just want the memories to go away. I wish none of this ever happened.” She was stunned into silence once again, the two holding each other at a loss for words. It was only a few moments before she pulled away, rubbing a few tears from his face and offering him a wavering smile. He could only feel relieved that there wasn’t a speck of pity or disgust in her face, only care (and a lot of anger, but with the current situation, he wasn’t surprised).

“Did you want to? Kiss G’lyn, that is.” She combed his hair with her fingers and rocked him, and everything within him ached to know the answer. If he was confused about how he felt in the situation he was even worse off now, feelings muddled and confusing.

“I… he was nice.” Was all he could croak out.

“That doesn’t mean yes.”

“I didn’t say no.”

“That’s really not a yes.”

“No, I- '' Alphinaud pulled away just enough to look up at his sister while leaning his head on her shoulder. “He called me… cute. He was being sweet. He- he said my shaky speech and my nervousness were signs I liked him. Said that I w-wanted the same thing he wanted, I’ve never…”

“You’ve never liked anyone, and if I understand it right, you are uncomfortable with the idea of being with anyone, you have been since we were children. Not to mention that your perception of it even if you were interested is all… skewed by past experience being forced on you.” Alisaie winced at her own words, but like everything, Alphinaud knew how to translate her crass statements into what she meant. But in this case, he was stumped – he knew Alisaie, and knew from exactly how she said it, it wasn’t malicious or against him, but he felt like he was missing something fundamentally in what she said.

“Alphinaud. The start and end of any type of intimacy doesn’t come from if you said no loud enough or decisively enough or at all. It should come from you saying ‘yes’. Enthusiastically, mind you. He was saying things to make you flustered and his intention was presumably, to court you-”

“He… he asked to go to an inn room. Alone. He said it was what we both would want to do, that the Scions wouldn’t mind… I-” Alphinaud clarified. Her hands squeezed even tighter on him.

“Okay, that’s even worse, frankly. If his intention was to bed you, he should have been more forward about it.”

“But he was! He said it directly, he put his hand on my thigh and was trying to touch me and was saying all these things and I- I said wait but I didn’t even say no!” his throat felt raw and a shiver involuntarily filled him at the mere memory. “-I… I didn’t say no. I just froze. I froze like an idiot and I did not say a word, how was he supposed to know? He was so sweet and I am horrible and I hurt him for doing something I agreed to-”

“Alphinaud, if you froze and he touched you, and he proposed bedding you and you didn’t respond other than saying ‘wait’ because you were too anxious to properly respond without having a clear head, and you couldn’t even move because you were panicking, and you were scared enough to use a spell on him after he blatantly ignored your request to slow down. Does that seem like something someone would attribute as you consenting? What someone kind and gentle and sweet would do, because they simply ‘misunderstood’?”

The room went silent as he mulled it over. Would that be obvious? If you were talking to someone and suddenly they got almost immediately silent, they froze, they stammered and were unable to speak…

“I… I don’t know.”

“What if it happened to me?” She made him look at her, really took at her, and the mere idea of her being in that position changed everything in how he saw what happened. He shook his head violently, trying to keep his breath steady as she gripped onto him tightly through another wave of panic. Imagining Alisaie at a bar table, half-pinned to the countertop with a man or woman kissing her without giving her space to even respond, touching her without asking, it made his blood boil and his vision red. It took a good few moments to recognize she was here, in front of him, safe, that the sudden rush of adrenaline started easing off again.

“Instead of backing off once you froze on him and couldn’t do anything, he continued anyway. He kissed you anyway. Alphinaud, that is not in any way your fault. Freezing is a completely human reaction. And someone is not ‘kind’ and ‘nice’ if your qualification for intimacy with someone is ‘they didn’t scream at me or put a godsdamned knife to your throat to coerce you into it’.”

Alphinaud wanted to rip his eardrums out, he wanted to rip all his skin off so the feeling of disgust would finally leave him, he wanted to hide in a bed and let it devour him whole, he wanted every sensation to just turn off for just a moment. He buried his face in her shoulder again, not resisting when she guided him to lie down and pulled the blanket over him, only an ilms distance away for when he immediately latched onto her arm. Alphinaud may have long since run out of tears, but being grounded like this was the only reason he didn’t attempt to boil water and stick his whole body into it to get the feeling of G’lyn’s hand off his thigh.

“I… I didn’t want it?” Was the only sentence he could force out, throat so dry at this point it grinded together his vocal chords like soundpaper. She kissed him on the temple, just like their parents did to them and what they’d do when comforting each other as children, and if he had any more tears, he would’ve cried then and there.

“You did not want any of it. And it’s okay to not want that type of intimacy. And if this is a worry- I believe you, so would everyone else. I’m sorry you’ve had to suffer from this for so long alone, but not anymore.”

“...Will I always be like this?” She responded before the self-consciousness could kick in.

“Not forever. Some days will be harder than others, and I’m sure if we ask Tataru or Tali they may have someone they can recommend for you to talk to, to get this all out. But… eventually, like any other scar, it’ll only ache every now and then; not hurt as much.”

His mind completely ran off course, and he gawked at himself in horror. “Oh Thaliak, I'm going to have to apologize to Kan-E-Senna.”

Alisaie scoffed. “She’ll be lucky if I leave her off with a warning for having a disgusting pig like that man as a decorated officer. And if I see him again, I’m setting his shoes on fire.”

“Alisaie.”

“I frankly, do not care. I will take the fine for assault. I don’t mind.”

A chuckle escaped out of him, something he didn’t even think possible. “...Thank you for being my sister.”

“Ah, I didn’t exactly have a choice but-” He shoved her lightly, and she rolled her eyes before poking at his side until he scooted over. She lied on top of the blanket instead of underneath, and when he was less fatigued he had to know how she immediately knew what to do to make him feel safe. “-but I wouldn’t trade you for the world, either, dear brother.”