Original Ao3 fic summary:

"For you are a traveler, are you not?"

A Fool's unending journey has many pages.

An accompaniment fic to "Stars in the Dark", a P5 x FFXIV crossover with Joker as the Warrior of Light. This is primarily for scenes that wouldn't fit into the main story (certain sidequest content, extra moments, etc). Same notes from that apply here!

Original Ao3 chapter summary:

FFXIV has too much content! So many sidequests! And sometimes there's small asides I want to include that would be too unwieldy to shove into a chapter of the main fic. So here's my solution – a supplementary fic!
This'll update a lot looser, and may not necessarily be in order. I'll include roughly when scenes take place for context, though.

For this one: The first part of it is set between the main fic's chapters 3 and 4, while the second part is between 7 and 8.

Joker rolled his shoulders as he walked away from the colosseum, his body sore and his legs wobbling. Guildmaster Mylla was… rigorous in ensuring he had the basics of swordplay down pat, and not at all shy about correcting mistakes in his stance with the flat end of her own blade. Better than the sharp one, at least, but he had a feeling the back of his knees would be bruising quite nicely tomorrow.

He tried to keep his back straight as he walked the length of the Ruby Road exchange, seeking the Quicksand. He had planned to speak with Cocobuki and his brothers regarding his burgeoning skills with Thaumaturgy today as well but he figured he'd put that on hold for just a bit. Because he was bruised and sore and not because the last time he had visited Cocoboha had decided to explain in graphic detail how apparently the most advanced Black Mages of the days of old would voluntarily have one eye removed and replaced with something called "Materia" to better enhance their arcane powers. Not at all.

As he wondered if the Lalafell had just been pulling his leg, he passed by the stage where he often saw the iconic Miqo'te dancers putting on a show for coin. There didn't seem to be any actively performing at the moment, just one sitting aside on a bench, resting her legs with a contemplative look. He wasn't sure if he was grateful or disappointed for that.

As he made to round the corner he heard a sharp hiss.

Turning, he jumped a little as he found the aforementioned dancer's face up in his own, staring at him seriously as she stood on the edge of her toes to meet him eye-to-slitted eye.

"Pssst!" She repeated, bringing a hand to the side of her mouth, "You there, darlin'! Are you that 'venturer what goes around doin' whatever people ask of him for a pittance?"

Joker blinked, leaning back a little, "I guess so?"

The dancer smiled, "Then you're the fellow to follow! Is it true that you lot go travelin' all abouts and slay beasties and vilekin and see all sortsa wonders? No, wait nevermind that."

She pointed to herself, "Name's P'molminn, and I earn my keep as a dancing girl in these markets."
And she was certainly dressed for the part, wearing an outfit that would probably be classified as beachwear back home, "Aye, it's a living and a good one! but it's not exactly what I set out to be when I bid farewell to the mudflats."

"Now I know," She said, stepping back as she raised her eyes to the sky, "That's just the way the tail curls! But in truth I should like to be one of those dancers dexter. You know, the sort they engage for the grand balls." She rose her arms in an approximation of a waltz, "To be a dancer of craft, not mere wiles… and keep company in high society!"

"I see?" He said, though he didn't really, "Well, that's a laudable goal. I think."

"'Xactly!" P'molminn clicked her fingers before pointing at him, "'Course, I'd have to learn a proper sort of dancing. One less 'shimmy', more 'stately'. And that's where you come in, darlin', because I've got a quarry for you to track down."

"A quarry?" Was this a hunting job, somehow? Wouldn't be the strangest introduction to a request to slay critters that he'd encountered today.

"They say a dancing master named Guillaunaux is in town. All the highborn ladies are aflutter wanting to take lessons with him. He's the best, that's the word! An' I want 'im to teach me his ways."

Ohhh. "And you want me to track him down for you?"

"Right again!" P'molminn clapped her hands together, eyes dreamy, "This is my chance to be something finer than 'Minnie the Minx'! Ask about with the fancy folk on the Steps of Thal for me, would you?"

Though still very bemused, Joker took the job, accepting her 'pittance' as payment. He cast his eyes about, looking for anyone dressed in fine enough silks to fit the definition of 'fancy' or else letting his Third Eye direct him nebulously to individuals who seemed promising.

The things he learned were as follows:

This Guillaunaux had definitely passed through Ul'dah recently and was likely to be still lingering around somewhere.

That somewhere could quite possibly be near the Hustings Strip, potentially by the Airship Landing.

Rich people (minus Haru, of course) were really goddamn obnoxious.

Well, he knew the third one already but today seemed to be really enforcing it.

Conveying his gathered information, a delighted P'molminn cheered. He led her to where he was told they might find the man, peeking around a corner to spy on a tall Elezen with silky dark hair and courtly attire. He was reclining against a wall, a delicate hand to his chin as he luxuriated before his flight out of Ul'dah arrived.

"That's 'im! That's the looker!" P'molminn whispered, her hands at Joker's back as she peered at their target with nervous excitement, "Oooh, I can't bear to be the one t' start the lip flappin'. You do it!"

And she shoved him forward.

Joker literally stumbled upon the man, thankfully catching himself before he could trip over his feet. Probably a bad first impression to make before a world-famous dancer.

Guillaunaux raised a finely plucked eyebrow at him, "Yes? What may I do for you?"

Joker straightened up, coughing, "Um. You're Guillaunaux?"

The man nodded, "I am he. That you are an adventurer is apparent, but what business brings an adventurer to a dancing master, I wonder."

"Well I –"

Guillaunaux put a finger on his lips, "At-tat! You will not answer where no question has been asked! It is the feet that must persuade, not the tongue. Now: dance for me!"

What? "What?"

The Elezen rose a manicured hand to his face, "Plague me not if you have no dance to show me. I must leave this place 'ere long."

Joker turned his eyes beseechingly to P'molminn's fluffy white ears poking around the corner.

Thankfully, that seemed to prompt her into action.

"M-Master Guillaunaux!" She cried out, rushing to stand between Joker and the nobleman, "I am P'molminn the dan… danseuse, and I would speak with you!"

She bowed low with her back straight, "I-it is my greatest desire to become a dancer dexter and perform at a grand ball. Please, milord, won't you teach me?"

Guillaunaux examined her with a kind of detached mild interest, "So. It is not the adventurer who wishes to tread the parquet, but this stammering maiden." He gave a great sigh, "Child, I sift people to find dancers. Do you understand? Then let us see whether you can master these steps!"

And he began the basic moves of stately ball dance. His knees were kept stiff as he hopped on the toes of one pointed shoe to a one-two rhythm, sweeping his arms gracefully. He then brought an arm firmly across chest with the other at his back, bringing his feet together. It was somehow sharp and precise yet flowing.

P'molminn watched attentively. She drew in a breath, her hands in fists, "...That's how they do it in high society, huh? Well, I can be the lass with class! Just watch!"

And the Miqo'te repeated his motions, the timing perfect if the movements perhaps a little excessively stiff in places. Still, it was a good imitation as far as Joker could see.

Apparently Guillaunaux didn't agree.

"Hideous. Grotesque." He placed a hand in front of her face, "Your dancing stands alongside the Calamity in its horror."

Well, that was rude. P'molminn's tail stiffened but she refused to be bullied, "W-Well! Those words might cow your highborn ladies, Master Guillaunaux, but where I come from, we take our lumps and keep on twirlin'! Now, what exactly didn't you like? "

Guillaunaux pinched the bridge of his nose, "You rely overmuch on appearances. You go from pose to pose, pleasing to pleasing. That is not dance, but crude fascination."

He twisted on his heel to face a startled Joker, "Adventurer! Look sharp and take your turn on the floor."

Joker blinked. He began to sweat. With the eyes of both parties boring into him and his face growing hot, he gave it his best shot, glad for his good memorization skills.

He felt more like a fool than usual, but P'molminn seemed surprisingly impressed, "I get it! I mean, you're not exactly good. In fact, you'd be picking rotten orange piths out of your eyebrows if you did that at the market."

And that was rude.

"But," She continued, "It's a story, isn't it? A dance is a story… and I have nothing to say. Because I haven't lived– just made a living."

Joker crossed his arms, frowning. He was glad his apparent hurled orange pith-worthy performance had somehow granted her a revelation, at least.

"Precisely!" Guillaunaux cried, "See how much you have learned from one crude display from this unrefined vessel that you have not learned in all your years at the markets!"

"Hey…"

Guillaunaux continued, "Ale-glazed eyes are easy to please, and you have squandered these years striking your poses when you could have learned a craft. Still, you have courage, I'll warrant that." He stroked his chin thoughtfully, "I am weary of teaching so many who may have lived, but in ways too alike. I wonder if you have courage enough?"

He lowered a dainty hand before P'molminn, palm raised, "Do you dare start anew? To be a dancing girl no longer to learn true art?!"

Thinking of a certain similarly flamboyant artist inclined to passionate speeches, Joker hid a smile.

And P'molminn's eyes shone with determination as she gave her answer, "I do, I dare! I will learn the craft—"

And she leapt forward, taking Joker's hands in her own, "—of adventuring!"

Both Joker and Guillaunaux froze. They exchanged puzzled glances as the Miqo'te, still gripping his hands tight, rattled off questions at lightning speed, "Do you adventure for fun or gain? Do you have to be very good with weapons? Those moves you make with your arms is that some kind of fighty thing?! You got a nice sword on you and I swear I meant that literally– did it come from one 'o them guilds about town? Can I get a mask?"

Unable to pull away, an overwhelmed Joker did his best to answer all her questions in one, "W-well, if you're really interested you might want to try the Adventurer's Guild at the Quicksand? Momodi can get you started, probably."

"Yes! I want what you've got, darlin'! The way to the grand ball is through quests and dungeons. I'll learn to slog, I'll learn to slug… and I'll learn to dance!"

And without another word she took off, a spring in her step.

A completely stunned Guillaunaux looked as if his entire world had been shattered in one fell, bubbly swoop. Joker simply shrugged at him.

Almost a week had passed since that incident, and Joker had again returned to the streets of Ul'dah, a slain Primal to his name and his ill-gotten gunblade strapped at his side as he perused the markets. It was as Thancred had said; being an Imperial-made device, the appropriate ammunition for his newest weapon was sadly hard to come by amongst the sellers of Eorzea. He almost couldn't believe exactly how quickly he was missing the days when he could simply pull the tigger of a gun freely and let cognition take the wheel.

As he stared at the marketboard listings, still unable to divine any part of it no matter how hard he squinted, he heard a familiar voice.

"Crayfish, crayfish…" A certain bushy-tailed Miqo'te woman was also scanning the contents of the board, twiddling her thumbs anxiously. She was now dressed in a tabard not too dissimilar to what he'd seen other amateur adventurer's wearing, if a tad more showy. She also now bore a shortsword at her hip.

She looked up as she sensed his gaze, eyes widening in realization, "Wait a min'! You're that darlin' from before what helped my outta my dancin' jam!"

"Oh!" Joker smiled as he remembered her, "P'molminn, right?"

She beamed, "Call me Minnie! 'M friends do and you're as good as one to me."

"Minnie, then." He nodded, "What's wrong?"

P'molminn's nose wrinkled, "Nothin' much, just retainer work bein' a right pain in the brass plates, if you catch my meanin'."

Joker titled his head, "Didn't you say you were going to become an adventurer?"

"I did and I did! But I'm still learnin' my dance steps, so to speak. Gotta get taught how to swing a sword all gallant-like." She put a hand proudly at her hip, "But since that takes time away from actual 'venturin' it means I don't get no job experience. Figured that if I couldn't start work as an actual adventurer yet then I'd make my coin in the meantime as an adventurer's assistant, know what I'm sayin'?"

But then she sighed, "Only… I'm not getting' much in the way o' work here either. Too inexperienced. Just get temporary assignments to randoms rather than a proper boss-boss. Like this stupid one right 'ere."

She returned her glare to the Marketboard, "I don' even know where you'd find a crayfish!" She cried, throwing her hands up, "We're in a desert!"

Joker put a chin to his hand thoughtfully. "Alright. Could you take me to where you work? I have an idea."

P'molminn lead him to a small building near the edge of the exchange. He rung the bell at the desk, summoning a Hyuran assistant, "How can I help you today?"

Joker took the initiative, "My name's Joker. I should be registered with the Adventurer's Guild?"

"One moment please," She flipped open a thick ledger before pulling out a sheet of paper. She nodded as she confirmed the contents, "Yes, I see your records here. As a confirmed adventurer with official guild support we should be able to offer you our services."

"Good." He nodded, "Because I'd like to hire a retainer."

"Certainly!" She bowed, "Would this be for a singular assignment or a more fixed recurring position?"

"Fixed, if that's okay."

The vocate smiled pleasantly, "Very well. In that case, would you care to look over the records for an available retainer that suits your needs?"

"I already know who. Her." Joker jutted a thumb towards P'molminn at his side. The girl did a double take.

The vocate looked equally surprised. She raised an eyebrow at the Miqo'te, "May I have your name, miss?"

She shuffled meekly, "P'molminn Monhi."

The vocate tapped her ledger as she scanned the records, "Yes, well… I mean no offense— you're a lovely young woman and you show excellent promise, but I'm not certain you're fit for a full assignment yet." She turned back to Joker, "We have many seasoned retainers who are perhaps capable of assisting you in a more permanent capacity, if you'd rather—"

"And I'm sure they're great," Joker raised his hands, "But I've already made my choice."

Though clearly still somewhat reluctant, she handed him a sheet of official looking paperwork. He skimmed over the fine-printed words he couldn't understand anyway until he found the dotted line. Not the brightest course of action, yes, but it wasn't like he'd never skipped reading Terms of Service before in his life.
He signed his codename with the lettering he'd practiced just enough of under Momodi's guidance. It was a shaky scrawl that looked rather childish but it worked. Probably.

And with that done, P'molminn was officially his retainer. The vocate briefly explained that she'd work on an on-call commission basis, with him paying her based on the depth of her assigned duties, plus a general fortnightly stipend from the agency to help cover additional expenses.

The former dancer looked like she was about to burst into tears.

"Thank you so, so much mister Joker!" She flung her arms around his midsection in a tight hug. He suppressed a yelp as she constricted his still tender Ifrit-wounds. The burns, people! Please! "I promise little ol' Minnie here won't let you down!"

Joker laughed as she let go, "I'll be honest, I'm not even entirely sure what an adventuring retainer does. But— we'll figure something out."

He tapped his chin as a thought occurred to him, "Actually, if you're not completely sick of going through marketboards yet I do have something you can maybe help with." He lifted up his gunblade, shrugging, "You wouldn't happen to know where I can buy bullets for this guy, would you?"

Original Ao3 endnotes:

THANK YOU 6.4 FOR THE FIC TITLE. I was waffling about that for a while haha. This one is an idea that came to me when I redid this quest with the alt I made to look back at ARR. P'molminn is a treasure and I love her.
And I'm afraid you're not done with dancing yet, Joker. You've still got Sylphs to meet! What is this anyway, a dancing rhythm game spin-off?