#anywho fordola deserved better

[starswornoaths]

Prompt 26: When Pigs Fly

Did someone order *checks notes* “Fordola gets released into Scion custody and Lolorito is made a public mockery of?” I have it right here for you.

Word count: 2,559

When Serella took the mantle of Acting Antecedent as the Archons fell and slept, she had thought it would be a largely symbolic appointment, with the odd coordination between Alliance leaders and the remaining Scions. The thought of that sort of title being so impotent in its use when weighed against what she had to sacrifice to uphold it made her stomach churn, but she could, so she must, so she did.

Then she thought about it more, about what Minfilia would do, were she still with them all. She thought about what Miniflia would do were she witness to the atrocities the city-states got away with, when they thought themselves safe within their own borders to carry out their misdeeds. What path would she have walked, what action would she have taken, and how would Serella measure up?

Then Serella began to test the ways her newfound title could be put to work for the good of the people. Sometimes as a sword. Sometimes as a shield. Sometimes as a hand held out in offer of aid, or made into a fist.

This time, she would have to use her words and her wits. 

“I have this…” Serella muttered to herself, pacing in the antechambers to the Blood Sands. “I have to have this.”

She couldn’t screw up something so important. They were sure to argue that her formal demand against the Sultanate and the Syndicate for the release of one Fordola rem Lupis into the custody of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn would be a partisan reach, a dismissal and destruction of their neutrality. She would beg to differ, but then, the Syndicate didn’t get to the positions— and the level of power— that they had by playing by the books. All the more true now that Raubahn was no longer occupying one of its seats.

But Serella had expected this. As a showing of their own hypocrisy, she spread word of the misdeeds and overreaching of the Syndicate in employing the Brass Blades to strap a bomb collar around a nineteen year old girl who had been subjugated and coerced by Imperials into acting on their command. She had thought it would take more for the people of Ul’Dah to be swayed, but then, the more she mentioned the fact that it was with the Brass Blades and not the Immortal Flames that had taken her into custody, and how highly suspect it was that they have such authority, the citizenry began to demand a say in the matter.

The only place with enough seating to hold a public debate was, incidentally, the Colosseum— a fact that Serella intended to capitalize on.

The door to the antechamber creaked open, ever so slightly, and Serella couldn’t hide her surprise when a familiar, pink garbed lalafell woman slipped into the room and closed the door behind her.

“‘Tis I! Your favorite merchant’s daughter, Lady Lilira,” Nanamo said, all smiles and a wink. “I couldn’t stand the thought of not offering some words of encouragement before the debate.”

“You honor me.” She knelt, head bowed, as was expected of her.

When she lifted her head, Nanamo was regarding her with somber eyes, lips pulled into a thin line as though she struggled with the sight of her.

“Minfilia had moments of vulnerability,” She gently reminded the Acting Antecedent. “Moments where she confided in us— all of us. It is no fault of yours that you are human. You can lean on us.”

“I am not Minfilia.” Serella’s smile matched the Sultana’s. “But it means much that you would encourage me so.”

“Please, take heart— I’ve been hearing the whispers of the people. They’ve long been tired of the Syndicate’s overreach— and by extension, the Sultanate’s lack of power.” After a moment’s hesitation, she stepped closer and laid a hand over Serella’s. “Though you will walk out with none at your side in a few moments, you are not alone.”

“Aren’t I?”

“Not at all. The Alliance has been searching for a way to bring this to discussions besides— or so said the Lord Speaker of Ishgard, last I had him over for tea. You have allies here, in the stands today— with their own opening arguments, prior to yours and in support of your demand. For my part, I will do what I can to sway the public and my cabinet both.”

That surprised her greatly. Though the Alliance was as one against the Empire, it was hardly a secret that there were disagreements among the policies and procedures of each city-state, and their response— or lack thereof— to the struggles of the people. If they thought this was bad enough to band together on...mayhap she was finally getting through to them. Mayhap the rejoining of Ala Mhigo and Ishgard into their ranks was the catalyst for change they needed.

Good.

“That’s all I can hope for. Thank you, Your Grace.”

Nanamo didn’t tarry: she couldn’t. But she did give Serella’s hand a squeeze before dashing back through the door, doubtless to be changed into the finery befitting her station, in anticipation for this debate.

It didn’t take long for them to call her. Standing before the closed door, she waited for it to open to step out. On the other side, she could hear Merlwyb’s closing statements in staunch support of her proposition, nearing the end, by the sound of it. The following applause all but confirmed it; it was almost time, then. With a deep breath— and a prayer for Minfilia to guide her, wherever she might be— she stepped out into the arena as the doors swung out for her a few moments later.

Her experience as a Paladin had made her familiar with the Blood Sands— and the Colosseum itself. Her old stomping grounds, where her myth was nearly as looming as Raubahn’s, though not near as lengthy or impressive. It boded well for her that the feeling of stepping out from the dimly lit halls and into the bright, brilliant Colosseum itself wasn’t disorienting.

As her eyes adjusted, she spied the Syndicate sat behind a long table, draped in silk embossed with the Ul’Dahn flag and poised high enough that they towered, ever so slightly, above where the debate pulpit had been set up. It came across as hideously ostentatious of them, though she withheld comment until she could properly take her place. Behind the Syndicate, in the Sultanate’s throne overlooking the sands themselves, Nanamo presided, dressed in all the frippery of her station, as though she had never stolen away to offer words of encouragement. The Alliance leaders sat in the tiered audience seats just below the throne in a liminal space almost directly behind the Syndicate’s table.

All eyes on her. No going back.

“Acting Antecedent.” Lolorito addressed, voice drenched in smarm and arrogance, as ever. “We have heard supporting statements regarding your formal request for release of Fordola rem Lupis into your custody.” He folded his arms over his chest, face otherwise impossible to see for the mask he wore over his eyes. He still looked smug, regardless. “As always, we are happy to work alongside the Scions of the Seventh Dawn and our Allies both. In the same way I extended my apologies to the Alliance leaders in attendance, I must also, on behalf of the Syndicate, extend them to you as well, for the choice in venue.”

Serella avoided grinning, instead gestured out to the audience with a sweep of her hand.

“The only venue that can fit enough of Ul’Dah’s people to represent themselves is a Colosseum where they are meant to be entertained and distracted. Your apology should rightly be laid at the feet of your constituents. Not mine.”

At the uproar in the stands, Lolorito’s lips thinned. Even through the shield over his eyes, she could feel the head of his glare intensify.

“You are, at the very least, appropriately dressed for the Colosseum!” Lolorito noted her Paladin armor, gleaming to a shine in the torchlight of the Blood Sands, lips curled into a snarl.

“I come to you as the Acting Antecedent of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn,” She began. “But that title is only temporary. Before I am anything else, I am a free Paladin. My soul crystal was bestowed upon me by the Sultanate’s own shield bearers, earned through service to Ul’Dah’s people. All I have ever done, I have done in the name of justice, and the name of protecting those who cannot protect themselves.”

“Do you imply that Fordola rem Lupis cannot protect herself?” Another of the Syndicate asked, flabbergasted at the notion.

“Few could, against a bomb strapped to their neck.” She retorted. “Fewer still would even try, given it was put there by the Brass Blades, who, if I recall correctly, do not answer to the Alliance, but to you.”

The murmur from the crowd was a low roar, but its tone was undeniable: few were pleased with the notion of such a cruel weapon as it was, but being put on a prisoner of war, and by someone outside of direct Alliance orders, no less, rankled the citizenry for the implications it had. Who would be safe among them from it, given who was responsible?

“We decided swift action had to be taken—”

“Out of jurisdiction of the Alliance.” Serella replied. “Paint me as one who comes to you as an opportunist all you like, I come to you through proper channels and after following appropriate protocol. The Syndicate is not Ul’Dah, and the Syndicate should not get to have unobstructed authority to defy both the Alliance and the legalities of the battlefield to collar a nineteen year old girl when she was at her most vulnerable, when it was presumed that no one would be in her corner.”

“She is working alongside the Scions, is she not?” Lolorito snapped.

“With a bomb collar and a handler. That were put there by the Brass Blades. On order of the Syndicate.” Serella enunciated herself very, very clearly. “Which is why we are here. The moment I was informed of this development, I took what steps were needed to see such a grave dismissal of human rights undone.”

“She is a danger—”

“For the resonant? The artificial Echo she bears?” Serella asked. “The selfsame abilities she has put to use— even before threat of explosion for disobedience. I will remind you she saved the entirety of the newly formed Ala Mhigan parliament under no one’s orders. She chose to do that, willingly surrendered her blade before it was asked of her, and outright asked to be taken back to her cell at the conclusion of the battle against Lakshmi.”

“You have a point to all of this, I am certain.” A bored Syndicate member replied around a yawn.

“My point is that there is no point for the treatment Fordola rem Lupis has received— even more notable prisoners of war that have committed worse crimes than she have not been treated so harshly by the Alliance. A standard has been established, and the Syndicate has willfully ignored it, as it always has, when it is most convenient for them.”

The cheering from the crowd rivaled some of her best matches in the Sands. Uproarious and unanimous, the people cheered. So raucous were the people, Lolorito had to spend several minutes seething quietly, staring down at Serella. She met his stare with every onze of ire she had in her body— which at that point, was likely a frightening amount.

She had planned for this meeting. Planned, and prepared, and tried to think of every single possible outcome that she could counter. Why she had the foresight to bring a porxie with her all the way from fucking Norvrandt escaped her at the moment, but what mattered was that she had one and that Lolorito was such a smug little swine that he had thought himself beyond her reproach, unable to combat him in a matter of public debate on government policy, that he had the utter nerve to say the words, “I will release Fordola rem Lupis to the Scions when pigs fly!”

“Swear it.” She said in the ensuing silence.

“Wh-what?” Lolorito sputtered.

“Swear to me, under the eyes of your people, right now, that you will release Fordola rem Lupis to Scion custody when pigs fly.”

“Must you commit to making such jokes? How inappropriate—”

“I’m not joking.” Her eyes narrowed. “Swear it.”

“...Fine. I’ll call your bluff.” Lolorito spat, one hand over his heart, the other raised in vow. “I do swear, Fordola rem Lupis will be in the custody of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn when pigs fly. Now then, if there is no further—”

Even before taking the temporary mantle as Acting Antecedent, Serella’s hands had made many a shape to help others. Sometimes, they were held out in friendship, sometimes clenched into a fist.

Just this once, her hands offered a flying pig.

“Angelo, to me.” She said softly, and opened her pack.

The porxie, delighted to have come along on a trip while Alisaie had worked odd jobs around Mor Dhona, fluttered out of her pack with a happy little snort.

The crowd gasped. Angelo flapped about happily around her head. Lolorito gawked, jaw slack, at the pig. Which was, in fact, flying.

“It’s an automaton.” He sputtered. “It has to be, you witch—”

“Angelo, greet.” Serella said, and pointed straight at the Syndicate table. 

Snuffling all the while, he zipped over, sniffing and snorting each member one by one. One of the members, delighted at the warm little porxie, offered it scritches between his long ears, prompting him to pause a bit and preen for her. At her whistle, Angelo returned dutifully to her side, perched on her shoulder. 

“That is no automaton,” the won over Syndicate member cooed. “My little dog at home is just as playful!” She clapped her hands. “It seems we have an agreement to honor, Lord Lolorito.”

“It— I— that is—!” Lolorito could barely get the words out between grinding his teeth and seething as he was.

“If you want a more symbolic response, rather than a literal one,” Serella mused in the wake of his infuriated quivering. “I am capable of casting aero under your seat, Lord Lolorito.”

Later, when Serella received the key to Fordola’s cell and was escorted by engineers to assist in the removal of the collar, Fordola asked her two questions: how in the hells did she managed to convince them to do this, and why did she do it at all?

The second question was the easiest to answer: because it was the right thing to do. The former took almost the entire trip to Mor Dhona to explain, though Angelo sat in Fordola’s arms, snuffling happily at her dazed petting, certainly helped to clarify a few things.

“You called him a pig.” Fordola said after a long moment. When Serella looked up, she was trying to hide a smile.

“Not at all. I reminded him that he is a pig.”

It was nice, to see the girl laugh, to be allowed to be young and silly, nicer still for her to know that she was under no threat and had no master. Just as she deserved.

#ffxivwrite2020 #ffxiv #Fordola rem Lupis #Serella Arcbane #5.0 spoilers #Shadowbringers spoilers #anyway I refuse to let that poor girl be left in a bomb collar and any opportunity I have to tell the Syndicate to get fucked I will take #Lolorito Nanarito is a man that lives almost entirely off of cheeto dust and tax evasion and SE cannot convince me otherwise #anywho fordola deserved better