Many thanks to all of my supporters over on my , who are provided with several benefits, not least of which is early access to chapters and exclusive access to the rewrite of my old PJO story The Exiles, entitled Forsaken!
Neolithic Knuckledraggers: Azarak Zarael, Christian Flores, Frodo the Fourth, Here_I_Am!, Ice fox, Jeffrey Jankoviak, JVR, Legomir172, Lily, Michael Friede, Peter Kanavos, and Tempist.
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Special Thanks to Jade Isentry on QQ for PMing me about this story, and to BigBoom for updating his own FFXIV story and causing me to want to work on this one again!
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Dawn is Just a Heartbeat Away (Hope Is Just a Sunrise Away)
Chapter Five
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Laughter, chatter, and the sound of utensils and mugs striking would echoed through the small stone-and-wood establishment of The Raging Fist tavern. It was dimly lit within, the windows (small, to keep the interior cool by warding of the heating rays of the sun) providing little in the way of light, the large hearth fireplace and various candle-lamps adding only enough to prevent traversing the space from being outright dangerous.
A dozen tables and booths were scattered before, between, and around the space between the worn counter of the bar and the hearth, all of them filled with relaxing Garlean soldiers. Eating, drinking, playing cards or laughing the night away, they were a portion of the local garrison that were freshly off duty from their daily tasks.
Through and around them wended a single dusky-skinned miqo'te girl, wearing a simple dress of tan and green, her orange, slit-pupiled eyes gleaming in the low light, peach-colored hair pulled back into a tight bun to keep it far from the food and drink she was delivering with deft grace to each of the tables in turn.
Naago of the Marmot Tribe of the Seekers of the Sun, called M'naago Rahz by non-Seekers, was a proud daughter of Ala Mhigo. Raised in the sheltered, sole-remaining village of her people atop the Peering Stones of Gyr Abania's fringe territories, the majority of their lands and many of their people lost to Garlean encroachment and Qalyana treachery, she had learned duty and patriotism alongside her mother's milk.
Much to her father's mingled pride and distress, pride and distress that had only grown when she had tried to join the Ala Mhigan Resistance. His response had been to have her hauled home where he had sat her down and informed her that she was under no circumstances whatsoever to fight the Garleans until she had mastered the Arts of the Hunter. Brave but foolish young warriors getting themselves in over their heads was why the tribe was down to a mere handful of the numbers that they had once held. That his daughter might suffer the same fate, dying in the dust after biting off far more than she could chew (or, worse, being made a plaything of some conquering beast of a Garlean), was thoroughly unacceptable. If she wished to fight, it would only be when she was ready by he himself, and fully an adult.
That had been three years ago, and she had never been more excited in her life to be informed by her somewhat morose father that he was now, at long last, giving her his blessing. She had hugged him, promised to be careful and to visit whenever possible, vowed to free their homeland and help return the Marmot Tribe to the towering heights at which it had once stood, and raced off to join the Resistance and fight for Ala Mhigo's freedom at last.
Conrad Kemp, an old friend of her father's, had been reluctant to put her at risk, but she had been insistent on working just as hard and just as dangerously as her fellow revolutionaries. An old friendship was no reason for her to receive special treatment, but his trust. He had finally agreed, and assigned her to a mission that was far from the battlefield, but no less dangerous despite that fact.
Working in one of the occupied settlements and passively gathering intelligence there by listening to the Garleans talk amongst themselves and watching things like troop rotations. Savages were beneath notice, after all. Which is how she had ended up working as a waitress in one of many bars, a bar that had basically been taken over by the Garleans as their local watering hole. It hadn't even been hard to get the job. The owner had been desperate for help, most unwilling to work in such close proximity to the imperials, and she was a cute miqo'te girl.
She worked as often as possible, saving up money to donate to the Resistance when she wasn't using it to buy resources for her tribe, resources that they couldn't easily get for themselves. It wasn't the most fun, or the easiest, but she had been careful about the settlement she chose. The tribunus assigned to this area was well-known throughout Ala Mhigo for having very little patience for molesters and the like, though M'naago would have tolerated it if she had been forced to do so for her homeland. Fortunately, she not only would have to deal with thoroughly uninvited attention from Garlean soldiers, but the very reason for her safety was an intelligence opportunity par excellance.
Aeliana rem Quirinius was not just a woman known for her relative fairness, but for being the personal protégé of Gaius van Baelsar himself. The kind of intelligence that could be gathered, even through osmosis and simply keeping her ears open, from The Black Wolf's closest student and rising star was unimaginable, it's value genuinely priceless.
The Reaper was also known for one other thing: her appreciation of beautiful women. She was scrupulous to avoid engaging with any of her subordinates, despite Garlemald's willingness to ignore such a thing (M'naago was positive, for example, that the entire planet knew that Baelsar was sleeping with his second in command), and she avoided Ala Mhigans just as carefully. Though not, she had heard, due to distaste, but rather a desire to not be seen as abusing her power.
M'naago hoped to change that. To worm her way into the Garlean's confidence and attentions, gathering what information she could through the intimacy of 'pillow talk' and careful snooping through the tribunus's effects whenever possible. A dangerous plan, one that she knew her father and Conrad both would have vehemently opposed, but she was determined.
There was a slight commotion outside, a vaguely female voice saying something, and M'naago's ears pricked up as her eyes turned to the door just in time to see it swing open, admitting the target of her plot, semi-armored and looking exhausted. Eyes across the bar turned instinctively to the door, and more than a few of her 'patrons' shot to their feet and saluted sharply, only to be waved back into their seats as she made her way to one of the bar stools and slumped into it. Sensing opportunity, M'naago made a couple of minute, but enticement-enhancing adjustments to her clothing before quickly making her way over to the tired officer.
"What can I get you, Tribunus?" she asked with a radiant smile that was painfully hollow, and the other woman gave her a searching look that was as thorough as it was scrupulously polite, lingering not in the least as it brushed over the smooth skin of her breast's upper curve.
"Aeliana, please. There is no rank in a tavern, miss, no rank at all." She responded kindly, a smile that was far more genuine than Naago's own despite how reserved it was. "Ale, if you please, without any sort of punch, and two of whatever the special of the night is. I'm as hungry as I am tired."
"Of course, Tri-…I mean, Aeliana." Naago smiled and bowed, trying to get the angle just right to improve the Garlean's view. Her tongue fumbled over the woman's name, and she rather doubted it had any of the sultry purr (one that she had tried to ignore the implications of, whenever her mother or one of her aunts had used it on her father) that she had tried to inject into it. Still the reaper refused to take note of her as a woman, and she frowned slightly as she made her way towards the ale with an absent call of instruction to the cook. This was certainly not going to plan, and for a moment she almost regretted the fact that Aeliana was not a lust-filled conqueror intent on staking her claim on a savage.
Pouring the ale was a task of moments, muscle memory easily dealing with the matter, and she turned back to her target just in time to see one of the lower-ranked troopers (clearly egged on by her compatriots) get to her feet and make her way over to the bar.
"Tribunus, you've just gotten back from Garlemald?" she asked, sounding as excited as she did nervous, and Aeliana's head bobbed with a soft noise of affirmation. "Is it true that you dueled one of the Emperor's cousins in the midst of the ball because his fiancé fell in love with you and broke of their engagement?"
"What? Of all the…no, of course it isn't true! By the Star, I just got back from an 18 hour flight not a half-bell ago! I know scuttlebutt is fast, but this is ridiculous!" the tribunus groaned, sounding more resigned than angry, which the woman only seemed to take as encouragement to press the issue.
"C'mon, ma'am, you know scuttlebutt moves faster than airships! So what really happened then, because half the legion and all the auxiliaries are convinced you battled him to the death before the Emperor Himself before sweeping his fiancé off her feet and carrying her back to your barracks in a whirlwind romance."
M'naago was, in all honesty, entirely unsure of how to feel about what she was witnessing, even as she approached the counter to the sound of Aeliana attempting to demure and deflect. Of course, in the true fashion of soldiers, that just meant that the woman and the listeners (now consisting of essentially the whole bar) started baiting her in an effort to loosen her tongue. Not that it seemed to working, and M'naago noted with wry amusement that her target's self-control seemingly extended beyond the merely sensual. Maybe a different angle?
"Here, Tribunus, your ale. What's this about you stealing someone's wife?" she asked, putting the ale down in front of the officer, who groaned again, even louder than before as her hand curled around the ale. She took a sullen sip, before looking over at her subordinate.
"Good work there, Legionaire, now you've got the locals that aren't auxiliaries thinking strange things about me. For your information, I actually defended the girl when her fiancé got abusive." She said, the other woman looking briefly a bit more nervous, though there was plenty of interest in the story as well. Interest that M'naago honestly kind of shared.
"Well, you can't leave it at that, Aeliana. Go ahead and tell us, tell me, all about how you saved a sweet and innocent maiden just like me from the predations of a callous, wicked rake of a man." She teased, leaning on the counter and giving her an encouraging grin. The tribunus resisted for a moment longer, before finally nodding with a sigh.
"Fine, but only in an effort clear up all of these nonsensical theories and rumors that seem to by flying around. They get too bad, the homeland might hear about it, and the last thing I want to do is get the Imperial Family pissed off at me because they think I can't keep my mouth shut." She said firmly, stressing the words to make it clear why she was giving in, but judging by the excitement around her, M'naago didn't think anyone particularly cared. "So, there I am in the Imperial Palace…"
M'naago listened carefully and, despite her desire to gather information for the use of her people, actually found herself somewhat enjoying the story. It certainly painted an amusing picture, with Aeliana inadvertently getting herself involved in what amounted to a quarrel between a young woman desperate for some romantic attention and a man who apparently wanted to give it to literally anyone and everyone else possible besides her. Though she didn't entirely agree with dragging some random, unaware bystander into the situation, she could appreciate the noble girl's desire to stick it to her unfaithful pig of a fiancé.
Some things were universal, it seemed, stretching across lands and nations and species alike.
Several of the Garleans looked surprised when she said as much, and she knew why. Seekers were known for being polygamist, so the idea that she would take issue with this man's behavior doubtless seemed shocking to them. To her surprise, it was Aeliana who explained.
"Seeker men earn their women and the sister-wives are friends and allies. What Marius was doing was a betrayal of their relationship, something sneaky and underhanded. There is nothing hidden amongst a Seeker family, nor any desire to hide it. The situations are as different as can be." She had said, looking to M'naago for confirmation, who had nodded in surprised approval. Oh, there was certainly a bit more to it than that, more cultural baggage and implications, but Aeliana's explanation had been as accurate as it was possible to be without being a Seeker herself or spending several days lecturing on the nuances.
The story had continued, with Marius' implications against Aeliana drawing an angry rumble from the crowd, and M'naago couldn't help but marvel at it. Not only did her troopers genuinely respect her, they seemed offended at the notion that she had slept her way to success. She was surprised by that, more than familiar with how many male (and female) subordinates liked to bitterly comment on their female superiors, and this time it was the first woman, the female legionnaire, that explained upon spotting her expression.
"The Fourteenth doesn't tolerate nepotism. If the tribunus was the type to fuck her way to success, Lord Gaius never would have bothered with her in the first place. She'd likely as not be back in some cushy posting in the homeland, sleeping with someone like Marius and living a lazy and wealthy life." She said proudly, before casting an admiring eye to Aeliana. "Besides, she's a Reaper. You can't survive that training, never mind pass it and bind a voidsent, if you're incompetent. It's like, like…"
The woman was obviously grasping for a good comparison and failing to find one, before brightening.
"Your lot revered those monks, yeah? They were the greatest heroes and fighters of Ala Mhigo before that mad king of yours killed them all?" she threw out, and M'naago forced herself to nod calmly and not bristle at the casual way the invader was talking about the slaughter of the sacred Fists of Rhalgr. "Well, there you are then. Saying that she slept her way to her rank is like saying one of your monks only succeeded in getting their position because they were fucking the grandmaster. Maybe even more so. Without the original Reapers, our people would have been slaughtered by the invaders before they could settle in Garlemald."
M'naago's ears pricked up in interest at that. She had never heard of this, and she was considering asking about it when Aeliana plowed on with the story, seeming uncomfortable with the praise being heaped upon her and her position.
Instead, she spoke about the argument (vaguely, M'naago noticed, only saying that there was a verbal confrontation that had nearly turned physical) before explaining that Varis van Galvus had stepped in himself to put a stop to things, with Aeliana being assigned a pair of babysitters to keep her out of trouble and the erstwhile Marius being hauled off by the Emperor's grandson for a lesson in manners.
There were plenty of holes in the story, but as disappointed as M'naago was, she wasn't surprised. Officers weren't much different anywhere, and avoiding going into too much detail of the failings of superiors or events that might embarrass them was hardly unusual. Besides, she had already garnered far more information than she had expected for her first attempt, and while part of that was doubtlessly due to Aeliana's obvious exhaustion, she thought the woman might actually like her to some degree. She would have to try and leverage that, carefully.
The story over, and most of the sordid details remaining unspoken, the legionnaire went back to her table and the whole bar lost interest in anything besides their games, food, and drink, leaving M'naago and Aeliana alone at the counter.
The rest of the shift was quite peaceful, Aeliana steadily working her way through the two meals (and a not insignificant amount of ale) that she had ordered, cleaning the plates entirely and having two full sweet rolls for dessert. An impressive appetite for a woman that wasn't on the particularly tall or bulky side, especially not by Garlean standards. There wasn't anything further in actual substance that was discussed, merely casual conversation, no different than between any two people meeting in the street.
It was…almost pleasant. M'naago was used to more or less being ignored, acknowledged only when absolutely necessary. Admittedly, that was better than being molested or harassed or constantly degraded, but being treated as something other than a mobile piece of furniture was rather nice. It wasn't anywhere close to making her forget that this woman represented the nation that had imposed their iron-fisted rule over her own, but nice all the same.
When the tribunus finally finished eating, the night had grown long and dark and there were only a handful of patrons left. Getting to her feet and laying quite a bit of gil on the table, enough to cover all she had eaten and a heft tip as well, the woman gave M'naago a small but (to the miqo'te's eyes) genuine smile.
"You've been good company, M'naago, and I thank you for it. Your payment and more, with my gratitude for putting up with my demands and for the conversation. It was all quite enjoyable." She said, and M'naago gave her a smile in response that was, to her own surprise, at least partially genuine. Not a large portion, perhaps, but a portion all the same.
"I've been glad to offer it, especially to a gallant hero, roaming the world and protecting fair maidens from terrible, dead-end romances." She teased lightly in response, enjoying the groan the Garlean, before leaning forward and tracing her fingers across the counter-top. "Listen, I work every other night from Fourth Water to First Frost…?"
She let herself trail off, trying to sound as inviting as possible, and Aeliana looked at her for a long, long moment, eyes searching her own for something, and M'naago briefly wondered if the tribunus could somehow see something in her eyes that would give her away as a member of the Resistance and an attempted honey-trap. She had suspected, and after hours of conversation knew for a fact, that the other girl wasn't stupid by any stretch of the imagination, but surely that didn't allow her to pull facts out of the air…?
"Well, I just might have to rework my budget to eat out a few times a week, then, instead of making something for myself in my quarters." She finally said, her small smile getting ever-so-slightly larger, and she backed away from the counter before heading for the door with a wave of farewell over her shoulder.
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Two months passed. Two months of Aeliana coming in nigh-religiously every night M'naago worked, spending the whole of the night chatting with her when possible and tipping her well when she left. Two months of gleaning what information she could from the most innocent conversations. Two months of listening to the other Garleans tease the tribunus about her fascination with 'that savage girl', and two months of listening to Aeliana fire back with a quick and razor sharp wit.
By the middle of the third month, M'naago had noticed that she was actually looking forward seeing Aeliana, and not for what paltry information or gossip the other girl was providing her. She actually enjoyed being with the invader, enjoyed spending time with her and speaking to her. Enjoyed seeing the way that her eyes lit up as she described the things that excited her, enjoyed the honest conversations that they had about their nations, their people, their cultures and customs.
By the start of the fourth month, Aeliana was waiting for her shift to end and walking her back to the small, easy-to-build Garlean 'prefabricated shelters' that M'naago called home. Not long after that, Aeliana had given her a kiss goodnight for the first time, and M'naago had realized two things: first, she had successfully garned the attention and interest from Aeliana that she had been searching for when she began this entire enterprise. Second, she wasn't particularly happy about that.
Though perhaps it was more accurate to say that M'naago the Resistance Member wasn't terribly happy about it. M'naago the Woman, on the other hand, was perhaps a bit too happy about it. Which was the only explanation for why she had agreed to what was, by any measure, a genuinely terrible idea.
That being watching her 'object of interest' (that seemed like a safe thing to say, right? Labels could be such terrifying things…) training with her fellow Garleans and overseeing the drills of her direct subordinates. She had justified it to herself with the admittedly-accurate thought that she could gather an incredible amount of information, not to mention the ability to further infiltrate the garrison, but the small, strong, strident voice in the back of her head that had grown steadily louder over the last weeks was telling her something else entirely.
That Aeliana wanted to show off for her a little, and that she damn well wanted to be shown off to.
Which had all been well and good, until she found herself face to face with what was, arguably, the literal face of her nightmares.
"So. You are the Ala Mhigan that has so deftly enraptured my student." Gaius van Baelsar, Conqueror of Ala Mhigo and Legatus of the XIVth Imperial Legion, known across the whole of the star by his epithet of The Black Wolf, gazed down at her with a stern expression, arms folded across her chest.
The part of her that wasn't more than a little terrified was busy marveling over the fact that, without his helm on, The Black Wolf was…actually a rather handsome man. She had always pictured him as a scar-riddled, red-eyed, cruel-tongued beast of a fellow, deathly paled from years of wearing nothing but his armor, yet he looked nothing like that at all. In fact, if she was really going to be honest with herself, his overall appearance and bearing reminded her very much of Conrad, beyond the admittedly minor cosmetic differences.
"M'naago Rahz." She managed to get out, and he raised an eyebrow, eyes scanning her up and down with an evaluating, though not necessarily critical, eye. From anyone else she might have thought it perverse, but from this man it seemed more an inspection than anything else.
"Hmm. Seeker of the Sun, Marmot Tribe. You are a huntress for your people, then?" he asked rhetorically, and M'naago couldn't help but blink at him in confusion and surprise at his apparent knowledge. Seeing the look, and recognizing the questions there for what they were, he explained. "You have an archer's build, that much is readily apparent. Your right hand is dominant, the callouses there are slightly heavier and the musculature more developed, but you've made a conscious effort to train with both hands, archery and melee alike if I were to guess. A wise choice. It prevents you from being helpless. Correct?"
M'naago could only nod mutely, realizing that the man across from her possessed a mind that was not dangerous only in the fields of tactics and strategy. Oh, she had known Aeliana had discussed her with her mentor, but she was positive that much of what The Black Wolf had said had been based on his own evaluation, not anything that Aeliana had told him.
"Hmm." The Legatus grunted, before beckoning her to follow him as he started walking. She hesitated for a moment before obeying, wondering what the hell was going on. A feeling that only grew when their destination turned out to be an archery range, one littered with Garlean auxiliaries working on their shooting. Acknowledging the salutes and greetings that flooded his way as those present took note of him, he gestured to a rack of bows and addressed her. "Select your weapon. I wish to see for myself your competence."
Not entirely sure what was going on, but not exactly seeing another option at the moment, M'naago obeyed. Inspecting the bows quickly, she tested the weight and the feel of each of the available weapons, before finally settling on one of them with a slight expression of distaste. None of them were right or even approached feeling like her own bow, but these were mass-produced, while her own was custom-made for her hand alone.
A quiver of arrows was quickly retrieved as well, and when she turned to look for an empty target, she found that the entire practicing contingent were lined up outside of the firing lines standing at parade rest, while the Black Wolf was standing at the shooter's marks with his hands clasped behind his back. Grumbling softly to herself at all the attention, wondering quite bitterly if they were aiming to humiliate her, she stalked over to the mark beside the legatus and took her stance. Her first arrow went wide, to the quiet titters of the soldiers, and she gritted her teeth angrily as she glared at the target hard enough she wouldn't have been surprised if it burst into flames.
"You are allowing your emotions to get the best of you. Ignore the audience, ignore their attention. The bow, the arrow, the target. These are the things that matter. The wind, the distance, the elevation. These are your focus." The Black Wolf rumbled from behind her, sounding so much like her father or one of her childhood instructors that she had to swallow past a lump in her throat. He was right, too, and she worked on settling herself.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, she drew and fired again. The arrow flashed across the distance between to sink into the bullseye. Three more arrows followed, then another two, as M'naago drew an X across the center of the target with her shots. Lowering her weapon, she glanced over at the now-silent soldiers with a small smirk of satisfaction on her lips.
"Good. Very good." The legatus intoned, before following her gaze to his subordinates and raising his voice. "Take a good look, all of you. This is the difference between the training of a legionnaire and life of a huntress. For one such as our guest, marksmanship is a way of life, a necessity of survival for herself and for her kin. When she hunts to feed herself and her family, she has not the rest of a cohort to strike a target that she misses. If she fails to strike her target, those she loves goes hungry. Let that be a lesson to you: Garlemald may field the finest of soldiers this star has ever seen, but underestimating a warrior that has spent their entire life, from the moment they could walk, honing their skills…that is nothing more than a quick way to a casket."
With that, he gestured for M'naago to re-rack her equipment and follow him as he moved on, and M'naago had to wonder if that was exactly why she had been brough to the range in the first place. To be used as a part of an object lesson to his soldiers about arrogance?
"You did well." He complimented, seemingly genuine, as they walked, and M'naago wondered why he was being so pleasant to her. Certainly it wasn't purely because of how close she and Aeliana had become, was it? That would be absurd, ridiculous even. "Aeliana should be done running her cohorts through their drills, and be prepared for her own training. Have you ever born witness to her fighting before?"
"No, no more than she has seen me hunt." M'naago responded honestly, admitting (even if only to herself) that she was curious about what it looked like when a Reaper fought.
"Hmm. You will see it today." Was all he said in response before falling silent, a silence that remained unbroken until they reached a large arena-like space, one that had quite a few soldiers (garleans and auxiliaries alike) sitting in stands or standing in groups. To her curiosity, no one saluted him nor acknowledged him as their superior, only greeted him politely. Seeing her bafflement, he grunted softly in amusement. "In this arena, and this arena alone, there is rank neither social nor military. So long as proper decorum is observed and excessive liberties are not taken, we are defined by our victories, not our station of birth or battle. In this, we embody the core of the Empire: that we are all of us the same kin, bound together by the blood-forged links of our ancestors and fallen comrades, and those who strive to reach the stars may do so, should they have the strength to do so."
His eyes searched the stands for a moment, where they fell on one girl in particular. A small gesture had her abandoning her seat to hasten to his side, and M'naago found herself face to face with Fordola of the Canis Lupia. Perhaps the best-known poster child (literally, as it happened) for collaboration with the Garlean Empire in Ala Mhigo, and one wearing face paint M'naago found almost painfully familiar.
Yda's face paint.
"Fordola, this is M'naago Rahz, a guest of Aeliana rem Quirinius. You will sit beside her during today's bouts and answer any questions that she might have." He instructed, and red hair bobbed respectfully in acknowledgement and acceptance of those instructions.
"C'mon, then. Your girl is going to be dueling with Lord Rhitahtyn soon, and that's always a fine thing to watch." The traitorous bitch said a bit brusquely, gesturing to the stands, and M'naago was forced to follow as Fordola headed back the way that she had come.
By the time they were sitting down in their seats, Aeliana was already in the center of the arena, dressed in tight fitting black armor with a long, ragged-tailed cloak and a elongated, pointed-tip hat, the long haft of a curved, wicked-looking scythe in her right hand, it's spiked pommel braced in the ground.
"This happens often?" M'naago couldn't help but ask, curious, and Fordola glanced over at her for a long moment before shrugging and nodding.
"Often enough, aye. M'lord Gaius routinely has the officers spar in front of the rest of us. Says it's to show us how far we have to go if we want to be able to reach their lofty heights, give us a sight to reach for. Course, then he duels the winner to show the entire legion just how much high one has to climb to become legatus." She explained, shaking her head at the memory of such past sights. "Anyway, Lord Rhitahtyn and Aeliana spar often. Their techniques and styles are diametrically opposed, see. Most times, it comes down to whose feeling best on a particular day. I'm guessing twill be Aeliana today."
"I can see why…" M'naago murmured, eyes widening a little as the massive living wall that was Rhitahtyn sas Arvina entered the field. The man was massive, and she doubted that all of his bulk was due to the heavy armor and miqo'te-sized gunshields he was wearing. Then she blinked, glancing over at the other girl. "Wait, why Aeliana today?"
"Because you're here, girl. The whole legion knows that the tribunus has a crush on an Ala Mhigan girl that works at her new favorite tavern. You've no idea how heartbroken some of the other Cania Lupia were when word about that got out." Fordola drawled, giving her an amused look, and M'naago could feel her face heating in embarrassment.
"What about you, then? Were you as heartbroken as your friends?" she shot back, whether to distract Fordola from her reaction or herself she didn't know, and Fordola shook her head with a chuckle and a scoff.
"I've not the time for romance, and neither do my friends, not that they'll admit it. We've a future to build for our people, we can't do that if we're swooning over girls, or boys for that matter." Fordola said, touching the paint on her face almost absent-mindedly, and M'naago opened her mouth to ask a very vitriolic question when a loud explosion from the field told her the duel had kicked off.
It was like watching a mountain fight the wind. Rhitahtyn was immensely powerful -the man's blows literally cratered the ground where they struck, even without the explosives fired from his weapons-, his armor and shields and bulk allowing him to shrug off blows that probably would have had her in bed for days at least. Yet for all that bulk, and the incredible weight that he had to move, he could actually move with explosive speed when he wanted to.
On the other hand, all that power and bulk and explosive speed had gone to waste, because he had failed to land a blow on the far smaller, slender, delicate, and agile form of Aeliana. She seemed like she was everywhere, flitting about like a dragonfly, or perhaps a hornet, ducking and weaving through his blows (occasionally teleporting, judging by the purple-black holes she ripped open in mid-air) as her scythe flick-flick-flickered across his armor.
Then the roegadyn changed his tactics, pointing his weapons skyward and firing off a barrage of miniature missiles that carpeted much of the arena in explosions. Aeliana darted backwards through another portal, but it seemed the move had been predicted by her opponent, as a trio of explosions bracketed her the moment she reappeared some thirty yalms away. M'naago half rose in concern, only to gasp softly as she seemingly exploded with black-and-crimson aether. Even from here, she could see that Aeliana's eyes had changed to a gleaming, baleful crimson, her cloak was now wrapped around her like a shroud, a hood hid her hair, and long talons that same color as her eyes tipped her fingers.
"She actually had to Enshroud. She's never done that against him before." Fordola murmured, leaning forward and watching the fight with interest as Aeliana began whaling away at Rhitahtyn with her scythe, which was now leaving streaks of crimson aether through the air with every swing. "She'll be hearing from M'Lord about that."
The bout went on for several more minutes before being called to a halt by the legatus, who announced that Aeliana was the winner, as one of her later blows would likely have damaged Rhitahtyn's spine sufficiently to paralyze the man without extensive healing.
As Aeliana rested before her next bout, this time against Nero tol Scaeva, the massive form of the roegadyn (now lacking his gunshields) made his way around the perimeter of the arena, occasionally stopping to speaking with various soldiers and supporters that had been watching the duel, until he was finally standing beside them.
"May I join you, young ladies?" he asked politely, his voice sounding like a landslide, and the pair of them nodded, Fordola with thinly veiled excitement and M'naago with something more akin to dumbfoundedness. Sitting down carefully with a pair of groans, one from himself and one from his new seat, he reached up and pulled off his massive horned helm, which he turned in his hands to examine before clicking his tongue and putting it aside. "Every time I duel that young lady, my armor ends up looking like one of my children after they ran through a thorn bush. Twill take hours to deal with the marks."
He looked quite different from every roegadyn M'naago had ever met, more like a very large, very tanned Hyur than anything else, and he quickly took notice of her slight confusion as she stared at him.
"Ah, of course, you are Ala Mhigan. You have only seen my Hellsguard or Sea Wolf cousins here in Eorzea. I am from the Eastern Lands, across the seas, and more Roegadyn there look like me than they do those you are familiar with." He said with a warm smile, the corners of his amber eyes crinkling. "I am Rhitahtyn, and you surely must be M'naago Rahz."
"Does this entire bloody legion know my name?" the miqo'te groaned involuntarily, only to blush brightly as the praefectus chuckled, a deep and rolling sound that resounded in the air around them.
"Come now, is it not a truth amongst all people in all lands that gossip, especially about one's officers, and even more so about romance, travels faster than the light of the sun itself?" he asked rhetorically, shaking his head at her as she damn near pouted in frustration. "Besides which, Aeliana is popular amongst the majority of the legion, and she is considered the most beautiful of the female officers. A potent combination, as I am sure you can understand, so when word got out that she spent hours in the sole company of a local tavern girl, people took interest. When she started doing the same thing nearly every other day of the week for months on end, well…"
"Scuttlebutt just is." Fordola agreed, the way she made the statement having all the simple truth of remarking on the color of the sky or saying that water was wet. Apparently feeling a bit bold, she patted M'naago on the shoulder. "Look at it this way: if you're ever in trouble on the hunt or whatever it is you do, find the nearest Legion patrol. They'll be happy to save their tribunus' 'savage girlfriend'. Most of them, anyway."
"Both of you, in a handful of sentences, stressed that it would be most of the Legion. Is there anything I need to be worried about? Or Aeliana, for that matter?" M'naago asked slowly, ignoring the 'savage' comment with some difficulty, recognizing both the slightly mocking tone Fordola had used on the word and focusing on something that might prove a far more immediate issue.
"Young Aeliana is Lord Gaius' protégé, most would say, and I happen to agree. He was friends with her mother, they served alongside one another long ago, I believe." Rhitahtyn responded, scratching his chin with one massive, gauntleted finger. "There are some in the legion that believe both of them are too soft, too generous, with those not purely of Garlean blood, such as the three of us, and indeed such as Aeliana herself, whose father was from one of the lands conquered in the Unification Campaigns."
M'naago didn't care to think about the implications of that, so she didn't, instead focusing on the reminder that both of her companions were not Garlean-born.
"How do you handle that? Why do you put up with it, tolerate it, willingly put yourself in a position where you can hear and experience such things?" she asked, half-accusing and half-asking, and Rhitahtyn gave her a small smile.
"My young friend, my homeland was little more than a lawless pirate haven before the empire came. Brutal, unforgiving, and yes, all too deserving of the name savage. Three of my sisters were kidnapped and enslaved by flesh-merchants, two of my brothers died as pirates, and I myself was forced to kill for the first time when I was not more than thirteen years of age." He told her gently, probably understanding where she was coming from, his eyes dark with the shadows of past regrets and pain. "Now my own wife and daughters live in peace, well-protected by the might of the Imperial Legions and well-supplied by the Imperial economy. In six more years, I shall be a citizen in full, and my children with me. My sons and daughters will be able to ascend as high as they can within the means of their merits. Neither birth nor sex nor creed will restrain them, only the limits of their ability."
M'naago somehow doubted that the Empire was quite as meritocratically pure as the man seemed to believe it was, even if only due to listening to Aeliana complain about certain nobles and officers she had to deal with on occasion (like a certain Imperial cousin at a certain party, just as an example), but she didn't have the heart or the courage to tell him to his face that the people who had, apparently, ensured his wife and daughters wouldn't be turned into sex-slaves the way his sisters had were the monsters under the bed for the rest of the planet.
"As for me, I've plenty reason to know what some Garleans can be like. Some auxiliaries from other nations as well. My parents were murdered when I was a child, stoned to death as they protected me from an angry mob while a unit of legionnaires simply stood by and watched, because it was savages attacking savages. The Imperials might look down on me and the rest of the Lupia, and my countrymen may hate us, but Lord Rhitahtyn is proof of the good that can come from peacefully embracing the Empire." Fordola said, finger tracing the face paint again, before shrugging. "Besides, it's not as if we did any better ruling ourselves. Not much to be proud of when our last sovereign was enough of a monster to be named The King of Ruin."
M'naago had to wonder if Fordola actually realized how contradictory some of what she had just said sounded, though she had to admit having your parents murdered by your own countrymen probably wouldn't encourage you to help those same countrymen fight for their freedom. Even if Fordola's parents were collaborators, it still hadn't been right for them to attack her over that decision, and certainly not to murder her parents right before her eyes.
The conversation halted as the current bout ended, somewhat explosively, with Nero tol Scaeva's newest magiteknical wonder having rather violently suffered a catastrophic malfunction, leaving him on his back and dazed in the middle of the arena with scorch marks all across his armor. Aeliana herself looked much the same, sitting on the ground and occasionally shaking her head with her hands pressed to her temples. Several members of the medical corps hustled in and absconded with the pair of them, leaving the Legatus to call an end to the bouts for the day and order everyone back to their duties.
"Do you think Aeliana is alright? She wasn't wearing much in the way of armor." M'naago asked, an odd anxiety flowing through her, and the two with her exchanged glances, both looking somewhat bemused, though Rhitahtyn seemed to be feeling an edge of approval as well.
"She'll be well enough, we have medicae that are more than capable of healing anything but the most grievous wounds. If I had to guess, she will have a very nasty concussion and need to lie down for a time, nothing more. Shall I take you to see her? I'd like to check on Nero." He responded, and M'naago considered the offer for only a heartbeat before agreeing.
Bidding farewell to Fordola, the pair quickly made their way towards the infirmary, only to halt at the sight of the legatus waiting outside.
"My Lord!" Rhitahtyn saluted, fist thumping over his heart in a crash of metal-on-metal, and Gaius acknowledged him before sending him in to Nero. M'naago, on the other hand, was kept behind, and she felt herself squirming a little under the weight of his gaze as he scrutinized her.
"I would be remiss in a number of duties, professional and personal alike, if I did not ask your intentions towards my tribunus, M'naago Rahz." He said finally, tilting his head towards the infirmary doors and the young woman within.
"I don't know." The all-to-honest words fell from her lips without any input from her mind, and she folded her arms under her breasts, almost hugging herself, as her brow furrowed in thought. What were her intentions towards Aeliana now? She was still loyal to the Resistance, there was no one and nothing that could compromise that, but she had started to see all too clearly that the Garleans were not monolithic monsters. Stern, implacable, often merciless, but not monsters, and not nearly so one-dimensional as she had believed. "I know I enjoy her company, I enjoy speaking with her, and it seems I worry about her as well. But I don't know what she and I want from one another."
"I would suggest, then, that you soon take it upon yourself to ensure a conversation about that very subject soon takes place. I will not forbid you from seeing one another, you may keep in mind, if that is what you decide you desire, but if that is your choice I expect you to comport yourself honorably." His tone was implacable, his gaze unwavering. "If I were to discover that you were toying with Aeliana's feelings or otherwise had designs that were less than proper upon her, I would be…displeased. I suggest that you keep that, too, in mind."
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving M'naago staring at his back and wondering what in Rhalgr's name her life had come to that she, a Resistance member, was getting a 'shovel speech' from The Black Wolf in the infirmary hallway of a Garlean military base.
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Fourth Water to First Frost is the Eorzean equivalent of 7pm to midnight.
For those that are unaware, Fordola's face paint is actually Yda's (the real Yda's) because Fordola was one of the people Yda was trying to smuggle out of Ala Mhigo when she was killed. This is from one of the Tales of the Twilight, #3 I believe.
We don't actually know what type of Roe Rhitahtyn is from or what nation he is from, so I decided to make him an Othardian Roe, like Gosetsu. We also know nothing about his background, beside that he was from 'a land that was in a constant state of turmoil until the Empire brought order to it'.
This story is only another couple of chapters, and then we will be starting Lost in the Echoes, which is the actual content of FFXIV!