#ajora writes stuff

[ajoraverse]

Fic, Faris-centered

A Thing Appointed to Desolation Summary: The ship has a sprite that few sailors will ever see, for seeing that sprite spells doom for the ship. Faris has the bad fortune of meeting him on the way to the Ship's Graveyard.

Words: 3033

Warning: British swearing and the dense nautical knowledge being thrown about that comes of the Age of Sail being my special interest when I was 8.

#ajora writes stuff #ffv #ff5 #final fantasy v #faris scherwiz #don't worry lads; it's safe. T rating is for words considered very rude in UK English #my dad introduced me to Pirates of Penzance when I was a kid and I very much wanted to be the Pirate King #should probably note too that I mainly play this game in Japanese and the characterization here comes of that familiarity with the original

[ajora]

Game novelization problems:

Goddamn Mid's "Cid-ojiichan is my ojiichan :)" and real familiar use of oniichantachi for people he just met is kind of annoying. Krile does it too, but I always kinda figured that she's been a bit sheltered and plays up the kid angle because that's what Galuf expects of her. By the time she uses "oniichantachi" for Butz&co, it's well after she's interacted with them for a bit (first instance: oneesan for Lenna when she's busy poisoning herself for a dragon, second is "oneechantachi" when talking about Faris and Lenna to Butz when they leave in the merged world--there's a familiarity shift from -san to -chan over time). And I'm just not sure how to romanize this usage because English doesn't really have that.

As an aside, I figure she sheds it when she's an adult. Makes things a bit less weird for when I ship her with Butz in her late 20s. And Mid just having no manners and being way more focused on his reading than anything else plays well into that aborted thing I have for them in the side story.

I don't know if I really want to translate all the lines and write out all the side-quests and things. I know that's the done thing for novelizations, but my main focus is Faris/Lenna and I want to move on to the juicier stuff.

#ajora shut up #ajora writes stuff #fic:dragondance

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

Some “Swordsmithing For Beginners And Experts” replies!

Tumblr really doesn’t seem to want me to reply to post and reblog comments, but here are some long overdue ones, as best as I could manage. Thank you all so much! As I’ve said before, this fic was kind of a big deal for me personally for a variety of reasons, so engagement with it really makes me happy - especially since, in my experience anyway, Bismuth-centric and Bismuth-heavy content tends to overall get a somewhat lower amount of activity.

tymp3st replied:

Ahhhhhhhh This was great, just Pearl and Bismuth and the huge divide between what was and what can be. That distance between them when Bismuth was brought back again and how quickly they start patching it up again. This is so sweet.

The distance and the patching up was something I really wanted to have work in that last big segment, so I’m really glad to hear this. These two and their relationship steeped in a shared complicated and often burdensome but also valued history is something I really love, and loved exploring here, and I especially loved giving them that promise of a future, they deserve it so much.

dontmindmeoverherejustreblogging replied:

That’s gay!! And incredible

Thank you! I am glad I was able to accomplish both.

@earthsgayestdefender replied:

#OATHHHH AAAA #IM CRY8NG AND I LOVE YOU AND I LOVE THIS SO SI SO MUCH #EVERYTHING I EVER WANTED IN A BISPEARL FIC

#iLL LEAVE MORE COMMEBTS IN AO3 TOMORROW BC ITS 1 AM BUT NO REGRETS READING THIS

You left me a whole entire novel and hit the AO3 comment character limit twice, I love you, bless. I still need to go through the whole thing and reply properly, bit by bit, because it’s an absolute GIFT and a fic writer’s dream, but I have to highlight:

Agreed. Co-signed. Valid.

@ohtakudesu replied:

#Bispearl   #HI I LOVE THIS AND AM DECEASED   #spent the last few hours on the bispearl discord reeling over this fic   #I don't even read fics that often but op this is fucking great   #thank you for my life and my soul   #added ten years to my life just now op

Speaking of other platforms... you bet I saved those discord comments into a doc for easier access for cheer-up reading during crappy days. THANK.

@jeejyboard replied:

#bispearl #it's good fic brent #this shit kills me like how much yearning can you fit into one tiny little wispy lesbian #bismuth is a little more explicable but still it's a stretch

Jeej my pal my bro your comments never fail to kill me.

@alliealliealcomfree replied:

# this is amazing! # i love how these two interact #and the mixed feelings about Rose #and the history between them #Bismuth and Pearl are so cute together

I will have you know that “mixed feelings about Rose” is the title of my hot new mix(hahah)tape, check it out.

(There is no mixtape, I’m sorry, only the sound of my tears.)

When that Dove short came out with the “I value our history” bit I just about ascended.

@nacrepearl replied:

#wow i LOVE BISMUTH AND PEARL #thanks oath for this life giving word meal

Bispearl content isn’t super abundant and I’m a great proponent of MAKE IT YOURSELF so I had to. I just had to. It took me a while but I did it, and I am glad I did. And I’m really glad you liked it.

@ajora replied:

#this is absolutely lovely to read all-together #and you know me I'm always down for examining Rose's effects on everyone around her #otp otp otp #ALSO: I was hardly suffering jsyk #ALSO: I do like the section naming scheme

I’m glad to hear it holds up as a whole even after me sending it to you rather piecemeal over the past few... who even knows how long. The section naming is legit one of my favourite things about the fic personally, hah, I am proud of it to a rather silly extent.

@starsailorstories replied:

Not only is this that sweet, sweet Bispearl/Bismuth being loved and appreciated content, I'd like to present you with your lifetime achievement award for contributions to the field of gem hurt-comfort

Also: THE SECTION TITLES????? THE WORDPLAY????? I'M HOPPING UP AND DOWN

Not done gushing, I love the way you write Bismuth dialogue, it's so like...brisk and jaunty with just the right edge to it but always coming from that gooey center of the team place. I love it I love her

I am extremely honoured by that award, especially coming from you!

And yes! It’s a BISMUTH fic we need to have that proper wordplay as well as horribly cheesy puns in there! And as a BISPEARL fic it is absolutely necessary to include communicating concepts via relating them to swords and the making thereof. It’s the rules.

Bismuth, I feel, has a very distinct voice AND attitude AND way of expressing herself in general, even as we haven’t yet had the chance to spend as much time with her as some other characters, and getting it down right was very important to me. And there’s stuff like her being noticeably less literal than other Gems, and more prone to using both Gem and human idioms (and as evidenced by her pep talk to Steven in Legs, savvy enough to be able to switch between them at will). Speaking of pep talks, she’s an absolute master there and I love her. I believe Ian JQ said that “gooey center of the team” line on the Bismuth podcast ep and I am forever grateful to him.

Also just. Here, a random moment I just thought of that got me all feelsy. Look at her lovingly and longingly looking out at her friends and waiting to be reunited with them. That really tiny smile. I love her.

And this moment that breaks my heart into tiny pieces, when she was convinced she’d blown her second chance and that the people she so loves and who she was prepared to go to such great lengths for don’t want her around anymore:

Nng. Just. So much about her is related to loyalty and community and mutual support and she is so full of love and goopy feelings, while at the same time absolutely being loud and brash and a damn legit fighter and passionate revolutionary, with a definite edge and a large well of (absolutely righteous imo) anger, and she will destroy you if you endanger what she stands for and who she stands with. And the damn “she chooses to build up people instead of building palaces” metaphor that I shall continue to put into everything Bismuth-related I produce as long as I live. I love that. I love her so much.

Aaaaanyway, moving on from that little digression, I’m also flattered by the displays of faith in me, like seeing a reblog tagged with (cheers @altostratusplunge, whom tumblr now won’t let me tag, great):

#i havent read it #will read afyer rebloggimg #but i trust you as a writer and i bet this is gonna be so Good

Trust is a rare and precious commodity and I will have you know I am touched.

Once again, a great big thank you to everyone!

#people are SO NICE i am so floored sometimes #oathkeeper replies to things #oathkeeper writes things #long post #steven universe #fanfiction #bismuth #i NEED to make an ''uppercut an upper crust'' poster for myself btw #you know for motivational purposes

[endeavorsreward]

From Twitter, tonight

I think a lot about the ways that FFT takes its story that is about a world of injustice and a meat grinder for human bodies and about 1/3rd of the way through introduces a grand conspiracy behind everything that swallows all of that earlier stuff into a more simplistic thing. pic.twitter.com/gw9KaJUiZg

— Rick Vance (@RvanceTal) June 27, 2018

Feel like I need to write an entire essay to outline the whole of it, but: Ramza journeys into the abstract, but the real battle goes on without him. Which can be read in two ways, both flattering to the text - that Ramza's battle ascends to a higher plane, or that he fails.

— Michael Peterson (@patchworkearth) June 28, 2018

Ramza's battling literalizations of the seven deadly sins because on some level he's filling the Christ role which was incorrectly served by Ajora. He even "dies" and appears again, in the ending.

— Michael Peterson (@patchworkearth) June 28, 2018

AT THE SAME TIME, Ramza's moral stance was that there would never be another Tietra, but there is: Ovelia, who dies on her own birthday and "ensures Ivalice's golden age"

— Michael Peterson (@patchworkearth) June 28, 2018

He fulfills all of the charges that his father left at his feet, but the only one he determined for himself is the one he fails without knowing it.

— Michael Peterson (@patchworkearth) June 28, 2018

I don't find this dichotomy to do anything but enrich the text, the same way that Delita is a manipulative, abusive, self-satisfied monster, AND they really loved each other and it was tragic because he was broken by Ziekden.

— Michael Peterson (@patchworkearth) June 28, 2018

(I think people forget how often Ramza fails, honestly - his climactic moment is when he opens the sluice and stops the war - but people still die from the poison and Larg and Goltanna still get murdered, which he was trying to prevent.)

— Michael Peterson (@patchworkearth) June 28, 2018

#Reblogs

[ajoraverse]

Dragondance: An Altered Course 5: We’ll sweep through the air: On AO3 // ff.net.

Summary: The incarnations of the primordial spirits that created the world chose  as their Light Warriors the following: an aimless vagabond, an amnesiac  old man, a pretty princess with more courage than sense, and a foundling  pirate. The world is doomed.    

Chapter summary: The Light Warriors run into trouble trying to find the king's sky dragon.

WARNING: This fic has Faris/Lenna in a romantic relationship.

Also warning: As I played this game before there was an official translation, and as I find that the GBA version injects jokes where there weren’t any, I use my own translations. This fic reflects that. This fic also reflects information garnered from Japanese FFV guidebooks and cards.

#ajora writes stuff #fic:dragondance #farilenna #final fantasy v #final fantasy 5 #ffv #ff5

[ajoraverse]

Dragondance: An Altered Course 3: In that awful water-land: On AO3 // ff.net.

Summary: The incarnations of the primordial spirits that created the world chose  as their Light Warriors the following: an aimless vagabond, an amnesiac  old man, a pretty princess with more courage than sense, and a foundling  pirate. The world is doomed.    

Chapter summary: The ship drifts into the Ships’ Graveyard. Faris’ secret is discovered before she was ready to tell anyone.

WARNING: This fic has Faris/Lenna in a romantic relationship.

Also warning: As I played this game before there was an official translation, and as I find that the GBA version injects jokes where there weren’t any, I use my own translations. This fic reflects that. This fic also reflects information garnered from Japaneses FFV guidebooks and cards.

BONUS! Art by the fantastic @eemamminy-art, warning for spoilers for this fic.

#ajora writes stuff #fic:dragondance #farilenna #final fantasy v #final fantasy 5 #ffv #ff5

[ajoraverse]

Dragondance: An Altered Course 1: The memory of long-vanished years: On AO3 // ff.net.

Summary: The incarnations of the primordial spirits that created the world chose as their Light Warriors the following: an aimless vagabond, an amnesiac old man, a pretty princess with more courage than sense, and a foundling pirate. The world is doomed.  

Chapter summary: First the wind dies in a place where it has never been still. Then a princess and her escort try to make off with Faris’ ship. Faris’ life has just been upended and that’s just the start of this mess.

WARNING: This fic has Faris/Lenna in a romantic relationship.

Also warning: As I played this game before there was an official translation, and as I find that the GBA version injects jokes where there weren’t any, I use my own translations. This fic reflects that. This fic also reflects information garnered from Japaneses FFV guidebooks and cards.

#final fantasy v #final fantasy 5 #ff5 #ffv #fic:dragondance #ajora writes stuff #this is my comfort game and my comfort ship #so please consider that if you want to come after me without knowing me thanks #I am an older butch lesbian from a time before rep and overidentify with a character and things are difficult lately #farilenna

[ajoraverse]

Dragondance: An Altered Course 2: Thy most familiar home: On AO3 // ff.net.

Summary: The incarnations of the primordial spirits that created the world chose  as their Light Warriors the following: an aimless vagabond, an amnesiac  old man, a pretty princess with more courage than sense, and a foundling  pirate. The world is doomed.    

Chapter summary: Somehow, none of the tales about previous Light Warriors ever mentioned sacrifice. Faris finds that she has a lot more to lose than she thought.

(Alternatively: Faris and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week)

WARNING: This fic has Faris/Lenna in a romantic relationship.

Also warning: As I played this game before there was an official translation, and as I find that the GBA version injects jokes where there weren’t any, I use my own translations. This fic reflects that. This fic also reflects information garnered from Japaneses FFV guidebooks and cards.

BONUS! Music by the fantastic @run-on-lightning: Dragondance Mvt. 1 - Starcrossed Waltz | Music Box Version

#ajora writes stuff #fic:dragondance #farilenna #final fantasy v #final fantasy 5 #ffv #ff5

[ajoraverse]

Hello followers <3! I’m sure you’re sick of this now, but Faris is my favorite character ever and I never get tired of writing her. So, here’s a series focusing on her life pre-game that’s... honestly mostly ventfic. Can probably be read by people who aren’t familiar with the canon, if you’re still following from SU fandom. Just a warning: because the Age of Sail/Golden Age of Piracy was my thing in my childhood, there’s a bit of jargon. Hopefully it all makes sense in context.

How Quaint the Ways of Paradox 1: Arson: On AO3 // ff.net.

Summary: It turns out that a pirate captain was chosen as the Light Warrior of Fire. Faris thinks there might have been a mistake.

Chapter summary: At seventeen, Faris has a well-defined sense of justice. She simply prefers to take matters into her own hands.

#Faris Scherwiz #ff5 #ffv #final fantasy v #final fantasy 5 #ajora writes stuff #yeah so the chapter titles are just all gonna be various crimes she's been charged with #she's a pirate raised by pirates since she was 5 years old what do you expect? #fic title is straight up lifted from Pirates of Penzance #come to my tedtalk on piracy in the 16th to 19th century and why people risked execution for the freedom of a pirate ship

[ajoraverse]

How Quaint the Ways of Paradox 2: Perjury: On AO3 // ff.net.

Summary: It turns out that a pirate captain was chosen as the Light Warrior of Fire. Faris thinks there might have been a mistake.

Chapter summary: A member of Faris' crew gets himself into trouble. Faris doesn't think twice about protecting him.

#Faris Scherwiz #ffv #ff5 #final fantasy v #final fantasy 5 #ajora writes stuff

[ajoraverse]

This is part of the first of 3 fics I want to finish before my birthday, so it’s really rough. Final Fantasy V, Lenna/Faris, set really early in the game and before the balcony scene. Also I can’t write action, so watch out for that.

A note, also: I play this game in Japanese and use my own translations. I’ll adopt some official NA romanizations, but not others. Butz is always gonna be Butz for me, sorry.

They were working their way through the rotting ships of the graveyard for a second day when she stammered an excuse to Butz and Galuf and tugged Faris aside. Something about needing a quick talk. Faris was still in a dour mood from having her shirt ripped open and her bindings exposed, but the scowl faded in the face of Lenna's request.

"Were you serious when you were flirting with me?" she whispered once she closed the door between them and the men.

The captain was disconcerted by her words, so much so that she took a step back. "Princess, this is hardly the time--"

Lenna knew that, of course, but she couldn't get that slim, strong hand at her hip out of her mind. The bewilderment in Faris' tone felt like a pin-prick to her spirit, and she could feel herself deflating. "I--I know. It's just--"

Faris sighed and stepped closer, and her sea-roughened hands settled onto Lenna's bare shoulders. Her voice was low and gentle. "If you asked me when we met, I'd've said no. I did it to discourage my men. I've gotten to know you since and I can't get you out of my head." A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "I'm game if you are."

Heat rose to Lenna's cheeks, ushered by a combination of Faris' touch, the kindness of her tone, her proximity, the implications of I can't get you out of my head. She wondered faintly whether those thoughts were anything like her own, and it deepened what she was sure was a very obvious blush.

Faris lost whatever control she had over her face and unbidden came a quick, charming grin. It was so inviting, so disarming, that Lenna was tempted to try something she never had before. "We'll talk in Car--"

Before Faris could even finish the word, Lenna rocked forth onto her toes, grasped the lapels of the captain's great black coat, and pressed her lips against Faris'. It lasted for all of a moment before she settled back onto her heels.

Utter surprise wiped away that grin. Faris blinked at her instead, her expression unreadable. At the sight of Lenna's hopeful smile, she chuckled and pulled her hands away. "You've never done this before, have you?"

Lenna shook her head. She supposed she could have taken advantage of her rank and experimented with a chambermaid, but it seemed terribly unfair. "If you, um, want to do this, you'd be my first."

Faris' eyebrows shot up as Lenna surprised her again. "Your father won't approve of some pirate dandy pillaging Tycoon of its prize."

That certainly got Lenna's imagination going. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and smiled, her eyes surely twinkling at the half-formed thoughts parading through her mind. "Maybe I want to be pillaged."

"Ha!" It was an abrupt, almost sharp sound against the ever-present creaking of rotting timbers. Faris' eyes seemed to dance with suppressed mirth. "You've more brass than I, Princess. Best do this properly, then."

Faris placed a hand on the small of her back, drawing her so close that her body was flush against hers. The pad of her thumb on her other hand glided gently over Lenna's lips as if encouraging her to part them. Lenna very nearly shivered from the contact, from the realization that she was really doing this, and Faris' lips met with hers.

Lenna was aware, faintly, that she was tasting the sweet rice wine Faris drank earlier, and something else that seemed to be uniquely her. The brush of Faris' tongue against hers, velvet and warm and wet in a way she'd never imagined, shot a bolt of desire through her. She gasped into the other woman's mouth, which only seemed to serve as encouragement. Faris caressed her cheek before deepening the kiss; Lenna had to grasp at the captain's shoulders to keep from drowning in the sudden wash of new sensations.

There was a knock that seemed to come from some distance; she didn't care so long as Faris kept kissing her like this. It was hard to care about anything at all. But Faris broke the kiss, only to whisper in her ear in a way that only served to stoke the flame of her desire. "Decide to go through with this when we're in Carwen and I'll happily divest you of your virginity. Decide otherwise and we'll never speak of this again. Until then, give no one any idea of what we've done."

Lenna nodded as she tried to suppress the heated yearning that Faris' kiss had ignited under her skin. She was usually so good at being able to school her features for court, but nothing in her life could hold a candle to that kiss. Her first kiss, offered up for a pirate to steal.

The knock came again, sounding harsher and closer than she liked. Faris leaned in and gave her forehead a quick peck. "Still looking a bit moony there, love." Then, before Lenna could respond, the door was thrown open for the men.

"We're talking about changing her ransom to my reward for getting her through this mess safely." Faris' voice switched so quickly to sharp and impatient that Lenna was momentarily thrown. "What do you blighters want?"

Butz, looking as if he suspected nothing untoward happening between them, responded first. "It can wait, surely? We don't want to spend another night here."

"Killjoy." Faris turned and held out her hand to Lenna. "Come along, Princess. I've no more desire to remain in this ghoul-infested graveyard than you."

Lenna slipped her hand into Faris' and she allowed herself to be led out of the room in which they kissed. She was distracted by the memory and eager for more, but the ships' graveyard made focusing on such pleasantries harder the further along they went.

It was grueling work, hopping from wooden carcass to carcass in search of dry land. Faris had the easiest time of it, being the only sailor among them, and she took charge of delivering Lenna across each gap between ships or hole in rotten hulls. If Lenna looked a bit smitten by the captain leaping across shifting wood or swinging on dangling rigging with a princess in her arms, well, no one was close enough to notice. Butz followed, either making clever quips or complaints all the while. Galuf, though, seemed to suspect something going on between the women in the party. Not that he said anything, but she could feel his eyes boring into her back sometimes.

Finally, as the dim light of a deeply overcast day faded into evening, they reached land. A brittle, warmth-sapping gloom hung over the spit of land like a funerary shroud, but they had no choice but to plow through it. Butz, ever the intrepid explorer, went first into the gloom and seemed to fade. Then Lenna noticed a small, hovering blue flame.

The blue flame grew, shifted to assume the form of her father. It beckoned her to come to him, and her legs seemed to move on their own accord. It had been a week now since she last saw her father, and now they could go home and she could forget this entire business of her being a Light Warrior. Someone else could be the Warrior of Water. Someone more suited.

Faintly she was aware of someone calling out to her. Was that surprise? Who was it? The footsteps paused at her side, and Faris looked at her with the most peculiar expression on her face. Then she, too, was drawn in by the image of King Alexander Highwind of Tycoon. Lenna thought nothing of it--everything would be okay now.

Her cheek stung and a veil lifted from her eyes. A scant few seconds later, a sharp crack of flesh on flesh resounded through the silence of their would-be tomb; Faris swore up a storm at Galuf shortly afterwards.

Butz was the first to notice and draw attention to her: a blonde woman so beautiful and ethereal that Lenna wanted to get back up and fall into her embrace. The twin shhkkks of metal on metal as Butz and Faris drew their swords broke her from another trance, and they stepped forward to protect her and Galuf.

The fight was chaos, for the woman was monstrous in her strength and resistance to steel and magic. Every slice and skewer the fighters managed to land soon healed. Every spell Lenna fired off fizzled out on the woman's skin. Galuf kept them from bleeding out with well-placed healing spells every time the woman clawed open their flesh.

Then someone got in a strike that shattered the illusion. Creamy skin turned a horrific, mottled black-blue before them. Whole chunks of flesh fell away to expose sinew and bone, gristle and slimy, rotted-green organs. An eye popped out, rolled in front of them, and shriveled upon itself. What skin that remained around the woman's fingernails pulled back, giving her already-formidable hands the appearance of talons. The reek was so overpowering that Lenna could barely breathe, and it took everything she had to keep from vomiting.

"Undead," Faris said, and ignored Galuf's retort that he knew that already. And they had plenty of practice with fighting off the undead while traversing the ships' graveyard, hadn't they? Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she resheathed her sword, and she gave Lenna a sweeping bow. "My lady? This is a mage's job."

Confused, not the least because her spells hadn't worked so well before the illusion broke, Lenna murmured the Fire spell. It caught on the monster's dried rags that were once a beautiful dress and flared up to devour her. The monster shrieked and curled up upon herself as the fire skittered along to fry the rancid fat under her skin and crack her bones. The smell of burning corpse was almost worse, somehow, and the smoke that billowed from its body was a thick, choking black that seemed to fill the sky.

Faris's arm circled her waist and she was lifted until her weight settled over Faris' center of gravity. Unsure what else to do, Lenna's arms looped around Faris' shoulders for support. Faris ran quickly, her long legs covering more ground than they'd managed if they had to wait up for Lenna, and she leapt through the smoke and crossed the stone circle that protected the mainland from the undead. Butz and Galuf followed; their coughs as the smoke filled their lungs were deep hacking sounds that concerned Lenna greatly.

"Carwen's a couple of hours from here." Faris' voice wasn't as harsh as it had been while they were in the ships' graveyard. Maybe it was just because she considered the worst over. "Follow the shore eastwards and we'll be there soon enough."

Lenna was set back onto her feet, and the party moved on.

The trek was exhausting so soon after a grueling battle with an undead monster, and for most of it they walked in silence. Butz led the way, with Galuf close behind. Lenna lagged only because Faris did, and the men knew better than to tell Faris to hurry up.

"Faris? Have you been there before?" Lenna asked when the stars came out and all remnants of the daylight was gone. The black moon blotted out some of the stars, but the rest gave them just enough light to see where they were going. At Faris' quizzical hum, Lenna continued. "The ships' graveyard. We would have gotten lost and died there without you."

Faris walked in silence for a few moments. Then, finally, she responded with soft, deliberate words that sounded almost vulnerable. "Went there once when I was... eight, perhaps. Pirate crew found me as a child, y'see, and the lodesman wanted to see if there was a recent wreck at the graveyard that might've given a clue where I came from. Didn't find a thing."

Lenna paused, her heart aching for the captain. "You're an orphan?"

"Hope so." Faris grunted and paused in wait for Lenna to catch up to her. Lenna reached out to slip her hand into Faris' and squeezed lightly, reassuringly. "I'd rather be that than live with the thought that any parents I did have just didn't bother to look for me. Or worse, succeeded in getting rid of me."

Lenna couldn't respond. It didn't seem appropriate. She simply drew closer, hoping Faris could draw what comfort she wanted from the gesture.

Not that social graces seemed to matter to Butz, who overheard her but didn't seem to have heard Faris' response. He stopped, waited for them to catch up, and blurted out; "You're an orphan, Faris?"

"Bugger, my secret's out," Faris responded dryly, as if she wasn't still smarting from having her shirt ripped open last night. "Far as I know, aye."

"Hey, me too." To his credit, he didn't try to do anything friendly. He drifted to her other side and well out of range of Faris' elbow. "Three years for me. How long for you?"

"Since before I can remember." Faris' voice was tight, and her hand tense in Lenna's. She didn't think it was just the subject that was bothering her; it might also have been the unwanted attention. Lenna, wanting to be supportive and unsure of how without stepping in herself, shifted their hand-hold a little and laced her fingers between Faris'. It seemed to help, a little--the tension drained bit by bit.

Lenna got the sense that the men didn't know when to leave well enough alone. Galuf was close enough now to get the gist of the conversation, and Lenna was uncomfortably aware of his gaze falling on their linked hands. How much had he already guessed about them? "Your surname doesn't give you a clue?"

Faris is a Jacolean name, Lenna wanted to say. Jacoleans were famous adventurers, and it would make a degree of sense that Faris might have their spirit, too. The Scherwiz part puzzled her, however. If it was a real name at all, it wasn't on any of the lists of noble houses. Not that it mattered, for Faris’ mood grew more sour with every effort to pry something out of her.

"No more than yours, Gramps." The words were unnecessarily sharp and well-placed; the only thing Galuf could remember was his given name. Faris might have twisted the knife, Lenna knew she was capable of it, but she clearly wanted nothing more to do with the topic. "Stow it."

Galuf got the hint and held his hands up in surrender, which was Butz's hint to leave Faris alone, too. They resumed their trek along the coast in quiet, bone-deep exhaustion. By the time Carwen came into view, the only thing Lenna wanted just then was a bath and sleep. 

#farilenna #final fantasy v #ajora writes stuff #sorry guys but this is my otp of otps #I shipped it 20+ years ago and I'm still shipping it #the best thing about Lenna is that she's impulsive and absolutely gets herself in trouble #good thing she has a handsome captain watching out for her #fic:dragondance

[ajoraverse]

I should probably post things I’ve been working on, so here: an excerpt from Rhapsody (teens and up, FF5, Faris and Alexander, Ghost Festival fic). It’s a follow-up to The Island and will have a cover illustration.

It's for Lenna, and for her own soul, that she's here to summon the dead. Faris needs advice that she refuses to go to anyone else for; if she has to get her hands dirty, she'd rather no one know about it so as to better shield Lenna from any backlash.

He turns up around midnight. The spirit of her father looks old, worn-out the way he did just before his death. It takes him a moment to get his bearings and figure out that he's in the family mausoleum. When the recognition finally strikes, Faris raises her glass.

"Mornin', Dad."

Her father's eyebrows go up at what she's sure is an unusual tableau: a couple of chairs hauled from the castle, a table between them with a bottle of wine and two glasses, lit candles and incense that some Istorian shaman assured her would help her raise the dead, her cello propped between her knees and its bow unceremoniously stuck in the bass-side f-hole, and his final resting place right behind her. And she's in her king's garb. That always makes people look twice.

With a grin, she stands and steps out from behind her cello to make a sweeping bow. The white trousers aren't so different from what she used to wear as a captain, though the silk certainly feels nicer against her skin than the wool ever did. She still favors boots to the shoes that are in fashion; these are just nicer than her old pair. The waistcoat works as just as well as the binder did to hold her breasts in, and embroidered silver sea dragons swim up and down the edges and stand out brightly against the pale blue-grey, wave-patterned damask fabric. The ivory and gold brocade coat is probably her favorite part of the ensemble: the brocade is in a subtle dragonscale pattern with stylized wings in the back, the gold satin lining flashes when she strides through the castle and the long skirt-like tail in the back flares out like the one on her captain's greatcoat, red stitches decorate along the seams as an acknowledgment of her role as the Light Warrior of Fire. The white satin sash with its embroidered gold band and gold sky dragon brooch might have been purloined from a portrait of her father at her age, though the white lace cravat and its Syldra-shaped pin is all her.

"You've appointed yourself king?" The tone of his voice is mild curiosity, but the crinkling at the corners of his eyes betray his amusement at her gall.

"'Twas a concession, I'm afraid. I'll not wear a dress and the minister refused to let me attend official functions in my preferred attire. Lenna's still the ruling queen. She can keep her throne." Frankly, the very notion of undertaking Lenna's workload and responsibilities drives Faris up the wall. Anyone who would want to be a ruler of a nation has no idea what it takes to be a good one.

At her gesture of invitation, he joins her on the other chair; she sits back down shortly after he does, sets aside her glass, and drapes herself over her cello like some dragon sunning on a warm rock.

Fine, so maybe she did want to reconnect. This silence of theirs is comfortable; she has her own death to thank for that. She knows now, in a way she didn't before, that he accepts her as she is. For some reason he's never explained, he even seems proud of her. It's not something she needed--she came to terms with not having a proper family long ago--but both acceptance and pride from her father are nice to have.

"When did you take up the cello?" he asks at last, once his form fully shifts from transparent shade to solid and almost alive.

"Oh, well, funny story, that." Faris pulls her bow out of the sound hole and tucks it frog-end into her palm so she can get to it quickly when she needs to. She plucks out a simple tune that goes up and down scales, altering the beginning note each time. It's meant to evoke the thought of the Crystals spinning idly over their daises, light catching and reflecting off their facets. "We lost most of the skills the Crystal shards taught us when they put themselves back together. The ones we kept were those from the Crystals that chose us. Butz still makes a good fighter, with sword or without. Lenna's still our best mage. Krile's a nightmare with her katana and a wizard with potions. Me, I sneak around better than ever, I've still got a good ear and a knack with timing, and," her eyes might sparkle when she says it and her fingers pause for the moment, "any dragon I talk to talks back."

Her father perks up and his eyes sparkle just as much as hers. "Wild ones, too?"

"Aye. Wild and domesticated. Any variety of dragon. Mind, some of that I got from you. Fire Crystal just... enhanced it, I reckon." And that was an exciting discovery, being hit with a wave of malice just before some demon dragon leapt out at them from a treasure chest. Her head still aches sometimes from Shinryuu's mental assault.

"You were always sensitive to them," her father says slowly as he works through some memory or other. "Notos said he heard you when you were born. It's why I wanted you to ride him as soon as your mother allowed it."

Admittedly, she doesn't recall much of that time. At most she has snatches of half-remembered feelings and maybe some images. She does remember her father's dragon introducing himself for the first time and running, screaming, to the nearest watchtower because his voice sounded in her head and not from outside her like human voices.

Sometimes Faris suspects that this sensitivity is why she heard Syldra in that whirlpool he kicked up when she was fifteen, just before she dived in and they bonded. Nowadays it's just a matter of course, especially once Krile helped her hone her ability, and the dragons she encounters just mentally curl up in her head until she shoo's them out. Something about them recognizing her as kin.

She sets the bow on the D string and close enough to the G string for it to resonate and starts--the notes short and spirited and low-voiced, the bow strokes short, strong, and made down-bow. It's her, strutting around her ship. Or, rather, wishing she could strut around her ship--she ties the notes together under longer bow-strokes and rounds out the sharp notes, adding a bit of wistfulness to the composition. "Turns out I can't go back to piracy. Everyone knows my face as both Sarisa and the captain."

"The price of being a public figure," her father says dryly, though he's not unsympathetic.

With a nod, the composition changes. She shifts to the A string and starts on Lenna's theme: open, clear notes and long, measured bow-strokes. Elegant but unpretentious. "I can visit my crew and offer advice to my replacement. Can't do a thing elsewise that might endanger Lenna or her political standing." Her theme joins with Lenna's for the moment and her motif turns almost martial, an acknowledgement of her protectiveness towards her little sister, before she breaks away from Lenna's notes and goes back to her own.

Her motif grows sharper, louder, quicker, the notes disconnecting as the bow bounces along the string and almost growling as she runs the bow over both D and G strings at the same time. It sounds like she was growing unhinged. Which she was. "So I'm stuck most of the time at Tycoon with the ministers hounding me about being a proper princess. Drives me up the fucking wall."

Her father, to his credit, says nothing. She shifts over to second position on the G string for Butz's theme: light, quick notes and long bow-strokes. "Butz comes along to the rescue and hauls me out for an expedition to rout out the bandits camping in Kuza Castle." Okay, maybe he didn't haul her out; she was practically out the door the moment he said "expedition". Her motif brightens as it joins him on the way to Kuza. "Found shielddragons, didn't find bandits." With that, she introduces a slow, shambling bowing along the C and G strings with languid notes in a minor key. "Undead dragons, difficult to defeat but easy to control. And since we'd already gone all that way, why not have some fun?"

This part gets tricky, the joining of her motif with the shielddragons; she has to shift her finger placement further up on the G string to avoid awkward bowing. The tune grows playful--the shielddragons liked her, and she suspects that half the reason for that is that she'd been dead once. They were mostly mindless, but what little mind they did have left propelled them to listen to her. They responded well to simple commands, and she and Butz weren't above exploiting that. "So we played with them and headed back."

Her father's face goes peculiar; likely he's trying and failing to picture frolicking undead horrors. Faris tries not to grin as she plays her and Butz returning to Tycoon and running into Lenna. Sure they'd left a message, but Lenna prefers to be personally informed and her motif grows a bit snippy for being left behind again. "Lenna gets Butz to snitch about playing fetch with the undead, because she's magic that way."  

That does it. A fond smile splits his face, likely at the thought of Lenna getting into a larger man's face to glare him down until he caves. She'd probably done it to dear old Father plenty of times. Heavens knew Faris got that particular glare often enough, and frankly she prefers it to the disappointment.

"Now, my dear little sister knows me better than I know myself. The minx." It's said with all the love in the world, of course. She expands on Lenna's theme, turning it into a full song. "Knows I need to keep busy and knows to keep me separate from the nobles. Gave me this to better manage me."

It was framed as a birthday gift and gesture of appreciation from a master craftsman for helping to save the world, but Faris has no illusions. Lenna is a canny manipulator when she sets her mind to it and the gift has her fingerprints all over it: the painting on the cello's back of her lost ship and Syldra near the bluffs of her former hide-away is too intimate a detail for a stranger to just come up with on his own. Lenna denies all knowledge of masterminding its commission, but there's always a twinkle in her eye that betrays her whenever Faris brings up the issue. She did well and she knows it.

To be fair to Lenna, it was a clever scheme. Anyone Faris practices swordplay with will let her win on account of her being the queen's feral sister. The only ones who won't are the other Light Warriors, who came away from the whole save-the-world quest with enough skill to present Faris with a challenge. Problem with that is that the queen can't always make the time for Faris and her restlessness, Krile heads the excavation of Lonkan ruins and spends all her time studying them, and who the hell knows where Butz disappears to half the time. After a few lessons in playing it right, the cello got to be an outlet. It takes well to the fast pace and high energies of scherzos, she finds its range more pleasing and more like her than other instruments, and she usually manages to burn herself out enough to not be completely unbearable at supper.

"I'm surprised you let her," her father admits.

"Oh, there's no 'let her' with Lenna. She'll get her way, and she's so sweet about it that it's impossible to say no." It's difficult not to laugh before she gets out what she wants to say, and the insistent tugging at the corners of her lips are probably betraying her. Focus, you idiot. "'Sides, I figure if she gets annoying, I'll...throw a frog down her dress or somethin'."

"Faris." Her father looks like he's torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to scold her.

"Hey, I've been good," she starts off with feigned innocence. "Haven't even started making up for the years of lost pranking opportunities. Only pranked her once in all these years."

His eyes, dragon-green like theirs, widen in growing horror. "Faris--"

"Spiders in her hair," she continues, eyes glinting, and she's sure the broad spread of her grin can be misconstrued as wicked. "You shoulda heard the scream."

His sigh is long-suffering and he looks like he's tempted to plant his face in his hands. Good. He missed out on her shenanigans as a kid and this is as good a hint of what she was like as any. "Faris, you didn't--"

Finally she can't help but laugh. It's short, natural, and she might have tears she'll have to scrub out. "Maybe it wasn't spiders, per se. Just as impossible to get out of everything, though. Glitter and sequins. Lenna still finds shiny bits in her hairbrush sometimes."

#Faris Scherwiz #Alexander Highwind Tycoon #ff5 #ffv #ajora writes stuff

[ajoraverse]

Happy birthday to me.

The Island: On FF.net // AO3.

Summary: In the final battle against ExDeath, Faris died. She was okay with that. Who knew she'd end up haunted with her own personal ghosts?

This is one of several fics I wanted to do for my birthday, but the only one that was anywhere close to complete. It comes out of my own translation work for games and the Japanese guidebooks, which have some excellent background on Alexander, and recently replaying the Faris-dies ending for another fic.

#final fantasy v #Faris Scherwiz #ff5 #ffv #final fantasy 5 #ajora writes stuff #it might be a bit rushed but it's not like anyone's gonna read right? #might also be a bit of wish-fulfillment

[ajoraverse]

A bit more of the 3-years-after portion of Dragondance, a few months after this segment. Lenna dealing with green-eyed dragons monsters both without and within. 

If Lenna had her way, she and Faris would be Queen and King of Tycoon. Faris would be a constant presence in her life and she would never have to worry about what kind of battles her sister would be fighting when she was off to parts unknown.

Of course, if Lenna really had her way, they would share the same bed and have a proper state wedding and no one would blink an eye. But, as her father was so fond of reminding her, kings and queens only have power because the people allow them to have power. If ever she thought she might get away things the commoners couldn't, she could very well be facing an uprising. As Lenna had never been inclined towards flaunting her desires and abusing her position, that wish to live in the open about her inappropriate relationship with a handsome pirate captain who happened to be her long-lost sister would have to remain unfulfilled.

She makes concessions, instead. After learning of the poverty that drives people towards piracy, she invited Faris' crew to join the navy for a steady salary and reliable meals. Many of them took up her offer, some of them didn't. The most loyal of them stayed on as Faris' personal agents. During the quest against ExDeath, she lived among the commoners and listened to their wants and needs--that experience became the backbone for a public works program that spanned her entire kingdom. After one too many arguments over getting Faris into a dress to play the part of Sarisa, she capitulated to Faris' discomfort and argued to everyone else that Faris is Faris and should be accepted on her own terms, not wedged into a box she stopped fitting in since she was five years old. Faris was willing to stick around a little more after that.

The final concession was a little harder to stomach. Faris would play the part of king well enough, but would always get a little restless and venture out on her own for weeks at a time. Sometimes she went undercover, sometimes she took charge of expeditions that should be delegated to military commanders or lesser nobles, and sometimes she came back with battle injuries and refused to say how she got them. Lenna hoped that perhaps their newborn dragons would keep her close, but Faris was starting to turn sullen and snippy again.

"Will you at least sit for a portrait before you go?" Lenna asks over a private breakfast in her chambers. Her staff left them alone at her request--it hadn't been an easy transition from being a princess used to having someone at hand at all times to leap at her every order to a queen who wanted real privacy and learned to do things for herself, but she was kind enough about it that her staff usually attributed the change to her experiences in the quest.

Faris pauses in feeding Silverstorm a sausage. The little silver-scaled sky dragon is as long as her arm now, and is sure to be twice that size in a month. Lenna's Cloudburst is slightly larger and has already gorged herself to stupor; Lenna learned early that it's hard to move with a dragon hatchling half-sprawled on her lap the way she's sprawled now and reaches around her dragon the best she can. "Didn't we already sit for one a year back?"

"Yes, but..." But it is a wooden thing; it's a marvel of technique and skill, but it was made by a painter used to royal subjects who smile with vacuous pleasantness. Lenna saw how the painter tried to fit Faris with that vacant smile, paid him for his time and materials, and sent the portrait off to storage in disappointment. "It doesn't do you justice. Besides, I think we should have our dragons in the portrait with us. What are Highwinds without dragons?"

"A sorry lot, indeed." Faris doesn't smile when she says it. Perhaps Lenna should wait until she returns to her again. "If you insist."

Lenna feels that she should leave it at that and pats her sister's hand reassuringly, instead. The calluses across the knuckles betray a history of brawls, and the ones along her fingers and palm are the marks of fifteen years of rope and sword handling. They're faded now--Faris doesn't have to fight anymore for her position in life, and half her time now is spent being thoroughly spoiled by Lenna. As if a little spoiling could make up for the years her sister had been lost at sea and presumed dead.

The obstinate tension in her sister eases ever so slightly under her touch, which Lenna always appreciated. Faris' hand shifts to lace their fingers together, palm to palm. A concession of her own. Faris is always a little more willing to go along with her whims when she coaxes her with soothing touches and gentle words.

"I don't insist," Lenna says at last. "I wish."

Faris' eyebrow cocks quizzically and Lenna finds herself pressing on. "I wish you would retire from that life and stay here, but the portrait will have to ease the ache of your absence in the meantime."

It's an old argument at this point--Lenna wants something she can't have and must content herself with the fact that Faris will never be comfortable in the castle for long. For the past three years, Lenna has tried everything a rational person might try, including bribery, a powerful position, reasonable arguments about consolidating their resources, the entreatments of a lover. The only thing she cannot offer is the very thing Faris needs most: freedom.

"You know I love you," Faris says at last. The words are gentle, warm; for all that Faris likes to say them when they're alone, Lenna never gets bored of them. "I'd stay and bedevil your staff if I could. It's safer for you if I run away and act the part of your feral sister."

That's just it, isn't it? Faris will do anything to protect her, and Lenna will do just as much to keep Faris safe. So they exist like this, happy enough when they're together, unhappy when they aren't, and ever conscious of the reality that letting anyone else in on their secret might be inviting their doom.

Eventually the clock strikes eight and she has to pull herself away. Lenna has a country to run and Faris will just have to deal with a painter shadowing her as she checks up on their public works projects. Anything sensitive from their spies will be reviewed once the painter is satisfied with watching her subject.

Her day passes as they always do: planning and information meetings with ministers and advisers, the reviewing and signing of documents, audiences that take up most of her day, preparations for diplomatic visits. These are interrupted at times with feeding Cloudburst and pleasant surprise visits when Faris manages to escape her commanders. "Minders", Faris calls them sometimes, though Lenna doesn't think that's all fair to them. By the time it's nearly done, she wants nothing more than some privacy with her favorite person in the world and their dragons.

When it's time for prepare for supper, Lenna successfully argues for informing her sister herself. Surely that was perfectly reasonable--she needs to check in with the artist and shouldn't expect her staff to do it for her. She very nearly knocks on Faris' door before the voices still her hand.

Faris and the artist sing a sea shanty, loudly and perhaps a little drunkenly. Lenna can't quite figure out the lyrics, for the Carwen accent is particularly pronounced. There is so much joy in Faris' voice that Lenna's usual calm self-assurance falters.

The artist is a girl out of Carwen. Fisherman's daughter, at least before the worlds merged and left Carwen land-locked. The girl's experiences are closer to Faris' than Lenna could ever imagine, and her normal confidence in her relationship with Faris wilts in the light of that realization. Try as she might, she would never have that kind of connection with Faris.

As if urged on by her discouragement, Cloudburst squawks loudly at the door. The answering squawk from Silverstorm brings an end to the singing, and she follows up with a knock before she can be accused of eavesdropping.

The girl answers with a broad grin across her deep brown face, thoroughly unaware of the seriousness on Faris' behind her. The sudden change in mood sets off warning bells in Lenna's mind, and she scrambles quickly for something to say.

"How goes the work?" she asks the girl with nothing but gentleness. The girl can't be older than Krile and certainly doesn't deserve to be scared.

"I've an idea, ma'am. Can I borrow you two tomorrow for a few hours?"

"Sure." Faris affects casual nonchalance, but there's a tension in her that's almost imperceptible. "Why don't you join us for supper in the hall in about an hour?"

The girl gasps, her words tumble over themselves in her surprise at being invited to supper with royalty, and she excuses herself to make herself more presentable. When the hallway door closes, Faris' attention returns to her. Her voice is tight, but not so much that it would be noticeable to anyone else.

"We should get ready, too."

It has the peculiar effect of making Lenna feel like an errant child. She nods, careful not to dislodge Cloudburst from her shoulders, and strides up the short staircase to her chambers. The door closes behind her with a sense of trepidation. Faris' follows closely afterwards. Cloudburst sends her a tangled mass of worry that she's picking up from Faris and magnified by Silverstorm; Lenna has to set her down on her favorite lounging spot on the couch and reassure her with soothing thoughts and scratches the knobs that will break into horns when the dragon is old enough.

Mere moments later, Faris appears out of the secret passage linking their chambers--something a long-dead queen had installed to keep an eye on her children. Her footfalls are so soft that Lenna might have been startled out of her skin were she not expecting them. Silverstorm darts straight past them to tangle himself with Cloudburst and bask in her comfort; the sight of their dragons coiling together brings a brittle smile to her face.

"Did you do any checking into her background?" Faris' voice is barely above a harsh whisper. The tone takes Lenna aback--Faris is usually so gentle with her that the tone feels almost alien.

"Her family has fallen on hard times, but they seem normal enough." The words aren't out of Lenna's mouth for a moment before she realizes where she misstepped.

Faris stands tall before her, almost regal in a way that sometimes reminds her uncomfortably of their father, and pulls out a couple of crudely-printed eight page booklets from her vest. Lenna takes them without a word, flipping through them with increasing horror. The contents are downright ribald; the subject of the first is some lowlife's idea of the Queen of Karnak's supposed conquests, the subject of the second is supposed to be Sarisa with an organ that Lenna knows for a fact she doesn't have and buggering the King of Walse with it. None of the figures are readily identifiable and the artist relies on labels, but that's probably because the artist had never actually seen the subjects before. Still, she can't help the heat rising to her cheeks in response.

"Found them in her bags. Blue-bloods are popular subjects," Faris says gently; she is never upset with Lenna for long. The hard, hunted look in her storm-green eyes fades as she draws close enough to tuck a stray hair behind Lenna's ear with that tenderness that comforts Lenna so. "Few take these rags seriously, but best be safe. You understand what will happen if she gets so much as a hint of our secret and decides to bring it up with anyone?"

Lenna can't help but feel her stomach grow leaden with the implication. There are multiple solutions to the problem, of course, but the only reasonable one is to do nothing at all. Faris, however, doesn't always abide by her rules. "What will you do?"

"The only thing I can do. I'm going to play up my past relationship with Polymja to anyone who'll listen and head to Karnak to save her from her rebellion." Faris pauses to consider her words, looking genuinely apologetic as she does so. "I'll have to flirt with some of your staff in the meantime. Would you mind?"

"So long as I'm the one you always come back to, no." It's a lie and Faris knows it. It hurts to see her beloved be so open in her flirting with the women on her staff, but it keeps up appearances. To all the world, Lenna has no interest in anyone romantically and Faris is every bit the charming ladykiller. That they've gotten this far without anyone outside of the Light Warriors suspecting is a minor miracle.

Sensing her distress, Faris stepped closer to take Lenna up in her arms. Lenna allows herself just a cuddle, because anything more will leave marks or clues that will be difficult to explain. Long fingers tease at the strands of hair at her nape; she gets the feeling that Faris is thinking the same thing. "I'll always come back. We belong together."

Lenna doesn't respond with words as she hugs her dearest love close. Of course they belong together, they've been through too much to willingly part. Loved ones have died before their eyes, leaving them to comfort each other. They sought solace and strength in each other when the quest against ExDeath seemed too great for them. They watched helplessly as ExDeath's Void swallowed up their people. They faced ancient, unspeakable evils together. She wants no one else because no one else understands her like Faris. For all that Faris plays up the ladykiller act, Lenna knows she feels the same.

After entirely too short a time, those long fingers she admires so much curl under her chin to nudge her face up with that gentleness Faris had always shown her. There's a glint of mischief mixed in with the love in in her captain's eyes that suggest she has an ill-advised idea to follow through on. Upon noticing that Lenna recognizes the look, an entirely too charming grin spreads on Faris' face. "A little token before I hit the stage, my love?"

It's a terrible idea, but it's hard to resist Faris when she's all charisma and impishness. Lenna responds with a grin of her own as she twines her fingers in Faris' white lace cravat and tugs--it's really no fair that Faris ended up being as tall as she is, given that Lenna feels so short in comparison. Taking the invitation, Faris leans in for her kiss, which Lenna is always more than happy to give. Her lips might not always be yielding--Faris is not a soft person to the world on principle--but they soften quickly to Lenna's. Faris' kisses are always warm and mostly gentle, and the passion between them sparks to life so easily when they're alone like this. Lenna's eyes close as she deepens the kiss and lets herself drown in the moment, and--

And there's a playful shove at the edge of her mind. The way Faris breaks the kiss suggests that she felt it, too. Lenna doesn't have to look to know that Faris is glaring at the dragons for disturbing the mood. Faintly Lenna wonders if other Highwinds had to deal with dragons mentally poking at them at inopportune moments. With a sigh, Lenna parts a little from her beloved to glare half-heartedly at the dragons, too.

They can't order their thoughts into words yet, but the flashes of half-formed thoughts she can only interpret as (secret) and (lots of food) and (passing time) and (danger) parade through her mind. Trust a couple of baby dragons to keep them on the straight and narrow.

"We really should get ready," Lenna says in concession, though she still has a little naughtiness in mind that's even more ill-advised than that kiss.

We know, dear, she thinks to her dragon. Give me a moment.

There's an answering tangle of thoughts that feels like laughter and smugness, and it takes a bit of the sting out of the interruption. There's nothing so smug as a baby dragon in the right.

To Faris' amusement, Lenna returns her attention to her beloved and unties the cravat to expose her neck. She has to stand on her toes to do this, but Faris is nothing if not accommodating to her whims and leans in for her. Lenna presses a gentle kiss to a familiar pulse-point low enough that the cravat would cover it, and follows up with a nip of sharp teeth and enough suction to bruise. Faris' arms tighten around her as she shivers from the sensation; she always responded so well to a little roughness. Almost as an apology, Lenna follows up with another, gentler kiss and steps back to re-tie the cravat.

"How's that for a token?" Lenna asks a little too sweetly, with an innocent flutter of her lashes. She gives the cravat a final pat and steps away, her eyes surely dancing from the delight of having surprised her beloved for the moment.

It's always a wonder to see her more experienced partner take a moment to blink away the stars in her eyes. But Faris recovers quickly and she grins back, all delighted adoration and a bit of lust she has to take a moment to clear away. "Have I mentioned lately how much I love you?"

Lenna wants to say a thousand variations on the theme of I love you, too, or that she never tires of Faris' proclamations, but they really ought not to look too well kissed at dinner. "We belong together," she replies, instead. It's enough.

They go their separate ways to prepare and leave separately, though by that point, the dragons decide that they want nothing to do with a dinner party and would rather stay on the couch in Lenna's visiting room and sleep. Thank goodness baby dragons sleep long into the night.

Faris on the world stage is a marvel to behold--she's endlessly charming and able to make the target of her attentions feel like the most special young lady in the world. More than a few serving girls end up giggling at her flirtations. When she wishes, when she's allowed to be herself, she can be the life of the party. She's so handsome in her vest and trousers and flowing sleeves that Lenna is sure that several serving girls and guests will end up questioning their preferences in romantic partners before the night is over.

It's that part of Faris that Lenna doesn't mind sharing, ostensibly because the scale of it is an act. Faris, with no one to impress, is reserved, watchful, and keeps to herself. The Faris she fell in love with cares deeply and would do anything for her, and her devotion is the stuff romantic ballads are made of. She's kinder, nobler than she knows and more considerate than she'll admit. She's still charming and spirited, but there's a genuine facet to those qualities that are lacking when she projects them on the larger scale. Though she knows it's a terrible thought, Lenna is grateful that Sarisa was lost at sea when she was--a castle upbringing would have smothered that spirit.

It's for that reason that Lenna swallows down her jealousy with her wine. She wishes she could be open about her relationship with Faris, of course. She wishes Faris would look at her like that in public. She wishes she could get up, stride over to her beloved, and steal her away with a kiss to remind everyone that Faris is hers. She wishes she really could make Faris her king. She wishes they didn't have to sneak around through secret passages. And so on.

Sometimes she wishes that she never set foot on that pirate ship years ago. No, that's not right--she'll never regret Faris coming back into her life. She might not regret doing something about their mutual attraction--they didn't know, not at the time. Sometimes she regrets that agreement in Surgate to continue their inappropriate relationship. It was a line that shouldn't have been crossed at all, certainly not as often as they did, and now they have to live with the consequences.

And yet... as Lenna glances surreptitiously at her sister when the dinner winds down and the plates cleared out, she notices Faris rubbing at where Lenna left her mark. It's a subtle gesture--for all anyone knows, Faris is merely adjusting her cravat. It's a subconscious gesture--Faris' attention is on the artist talking to her and there's no indication that she's aware of Lenna's mood. The sight of it alleviates Lenna's concern, because it's not the first time she has seen Faris rub at one of her marks to deepen the bruise. They'll be okay. Faris always comes back to her, and Lenna will always welcome her with open arms. They've been through too much together for Lenna to let her jealousy and anxieties tear them apart.

#fic:dragondance #farilenna #ajora writes stuff

[ajoraverse]

Tales from Beta Kindergarten III: Maturation

Chapters 1 and 2, Confession and Rupture: On FF.net // AO3.

Summary: It's been over four thousand years since the Gem War ended earlier than expected. It is, perhaps, too long a time with the same group of gems for Jasper's peace of mind.

These are Chapters 1 and 2 of 5, and Part 3 of 5 (maybe 6 or more depending on how well the other parts go over). Parts 2-4 focus pretty much exclusively on the Beta gems adapting to Earth over 5000 years, with guest appearances from the Crystal Gems.

#SU: Beta AU #ajora writes stuff #fun fact: next chapter involves Pearl a lot

[ajoraverse]

I’m waiting on someone at work and I can’t proceed without their input, so here’s the opening of a thing I hope to finish over the next week or so.

--

In all her twenty years of life, Amatista "Amethyst" Xiomara Estrada had never felt worse. Her head was spinning, she was sure she was gonna faint at any time, and on top of it all she really wanted to hurl her half-digested tlacoyos and tequila all over herself and couldn't. It was almost insulting! Her alcohol tolerance was so high that she'd never gotten drunk before. Drinking other people under the table was practically a point of pride for her. Did someone slip something into her drink during Jasper's going-away party? But it was a private party and surely Cornalina would have told her and-- and-- And, ugh, maybe she should have let Flaca walk her home, after all.

Ughhhhhh. Fuck everything.

Amethyst stopped at the doorstep to sit and wait for the world to stop doing the whirling thing.

Any time now.

Please.

She rummaged through her pockets for her keys and swore when she felt nothing but a tube of chapstick and a broken hair tie. Did she seriously leave everything at the party? Fuck me. Pearl and Garnet were gonna be asleep at this hour, and she really wasn't up for making enough of a racket to wake them up.

At least it was a nice doorstep. Pearl swept it regularly, though the leaves crackling under her suggested that her roommate hadn't done so recently. Eh. Whatever. She can pester Pearl about it in the morning. She just... needed...

Amethyst woke with a start. It was still dark and falling asleep out here was a terrible idea. Grudgingly did she get up; it felt like she weighed a thousand pounds and she ached everywhere. What the fuck was in her drinks?

Still, she stood and the world wasn't spinning anymore. She tried the door knob. It opened, letting her shamble into the foyer. Funny, Pearl was usually so fussy about locking up at nights. She didn't even bother to turn on the lights, relying instead on the nearby street lamps filtering through the front window. The stairs of their townhouse felt like too great a challenge just then, so she slumped onto a nearby chair. Huh. Her roommates must have been rearranging the furniture again.

Shrugging off the discrepancy, Amethyst made herself more comfortable on the armchair and went back to sleep.

It was while the sky was growing lighter with the coming dawn that sirens interrupted Amethyst's sleep. Grumbling incoherently to herself as red and blue light flashed through the front window, she turned away to ignore it all and try to get a little more sleep. It would be gone soon enough.

* * *

"Who the hell are you?"

Amethyst blinked awake. The townhouse looked all wrong in the warm golden glow of the afternoon sun. It was a mess that Pearl never would have tolerated: there was a layer of dust over less-trafficked areas, clothes lay where they were dropped, the banister was gone, and the furniture and artwork were way more modern than Pearl liked. She was in the wrong damn house.

"Shit."

Still drowsy, Amethyst pulled her legs from the opposite armrest and tried to sit up properly. The girl glaring at her from behind glasses too big for her face had short, peroxide-blonde hair sticking out every which way, a bit of an overbite, and possibly the worst fashion sense known to humanity. The bright green The Matrix print on her black shirt looked even brighter and more obnoxious, and the shorts were of a bright lime-green and orange combination that made her eyes water. And were those olive socks and pink Crocs?

"We'll try this again," the girl snipped. "Who the hell are you? What are you doing in my house?"

Rather than answer her immediately, Amethyst pulled herself off the armchair and righted her clothes. At least she felt a lot better and hadn't even vomited on herself. A small mercy. "Amethyst. Took a wrong turn at Albuquerque. You?"

The girl's eyes narrowed at her in what Amethyst guessed was confusion on top of that suspicion in her voice. Probably didn't get the reference. "Peridot Tsai. Berkeley is a long way from Albuquerque."

It took Amethyst a moment to reconsider explaining the joke. "Yeah. Figured," she said dryly. "Am I anywhere near Cedar?"

Peridot seemed to relax, a little. Her hands weren't quite so tight around her upper arms. "You're a few blocks off. Ohlone Park is just across the street."

A few blocks off. Amethyst groaned and scrubbed her face, probably completely ruining Flaca's make-up in the process. She had to have been drugged to not even make it past the park. How did she get turned around like this? Her hand automatically reached for the iPhone that should have been in her pocket and encountered nothing but that tube of chapstick. Right, she really did leave everything at the party, didn't she?

#ajora writes stuff #wip #su: human au #or; rather; au of the human au #decoder: cornalina is spanish for carnelian and flaca is a common nickname for skinny girls