Post-Vault, my own ideas differ from the main scenario.

Look forward to my rewriting of the the turn of events; yes I regard the game as a shittily written AU now.

Gods damn Yoshi P. twice over.

Shameless description of battle wounds on my WoL. No shame, none at all.

Warning: 588 word useless drabble.

Alphinaud began to worry when after an hour has passed and Mu had yet to return from the baths. Perhaps deep down he knew he should not impose or attempt to encroach on the enigmatic Warrior of Light; but the pitter of shuffling pages when closing his book told the story of his restlessness. The young lord removed himself from the chair he had curled into, golden fire in a nearby hearth cast a warm glow on his pale skin. Tataru looked up from where she sat near the fire on a rug, weaving; but thought little when the boy stretched and then sidled quietly from the warm room.

The bathing chamber was large, the baths itself enclosed by clear glass walls with a similar glass door on a hinge. Very quietly Alphinaud had opened the door to this room and peered into the bathroom and straight to the glass that encompassed the bath. There; Mu was on his hands and knees, the pipe atop the ceiling spewed water in a gentle shower. It was hot, and it steamed but did not inhibit the clear sight for Alphinaud.

Mu's hair was pulled over one shoulder so that his face was visible to the door. His eyes were clenched shut and rivulets of water caressed his eyelids and cheeks. His lips were taut line and his brows were drawn together; but noticeable of all within this body language—the shaking of his shoulders, the guttering of his chest and flexing of his stomach. These were silent sobs wracking Mu's body.

And then Alphinaud was truly able to notice how beaten he was.

The Duskwights grey-hued, purplish skin was a myriad of scarring which showed white or pinkish-silver down his back, his arms, and his legs. His neck and stomach were also not spared the cross hatching of battles long passed. Alphinaud thought their battles as old, but to Mu's body they were still fresh—still healing. There were now fresh red welts along his back where blows had fallen and the armor had repelled only the sharp point of steal, arrow, and bullet; but not the force of collision. Black bruising blossomed along his arms and legs where the blood had already dried beneath his skin. There were shallow cuts from where the joints in his armor had been slammed back into his flesh; the water of the shower flowed over these with the lightest of pink hues. At the base of his throat, around his shoulders, underarms, wrists, and fingers; all showed signs of the cutting blunt force of his armor. The ones behind his knees bleed the most though they were the smallest—the flesh here though was the most delicate…

Alphinaud covered his mouth from the horror of this sight, retreated slowly backwards to close the door and lean his back against it. His skin prickled unpleasantly as he thought about having to endure such maiming, and his teeth nipped into the flesh of his palm to withhold a sympathetic mewl at the very idea of being so directly harmed.

"We tell you to press onwards and you do with this your only reward. With pain… Torture… you endure while we only but numb your pain temporarily. Oh, why, Mu… Why?"

A sob squeezes passed his pallid lips and trembling fingers. His eyes are wet and his thick eyelashes stick together when dampness coalesces there. The boy quits the place with not-quite-a-run that bespeaks of a heartbroken necessity to find solace in solitude and spiraling thoughts…

Sorry not sorry but also extremely sorry.

So many stories are sitting in my Word folder yes yes I know I'm trash.

FFxiv is a perpetual distraction, Gods help me.

We all know exuberant reviews are the fastest path to more stories for any fandom I write for. Give me give me, give me!