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To Live in the After

Summary:

Nyrith smiles through walking down the ramp from the Ragnarok. The ensuing roar from the crowd. The abundance of congratulations, reassurances, and words of gratitude from everyone she sees.

Somehow, miraculously, she lasts two hours.

Nyrith tells her fellow Scions that, really, she would love some rest, and some time to recover. That she'll be all right. Tells Alphinaud and Urianger, especially, that she will monitor her health closely, and she will see them in the morning, but for now needs time to herself.

(Doesn't notice Estinien watching as she goes.)

She smiles as she greets Ojika. Smiles until she reaches her room. Smiles until the door closes. She bathes, changes into her pajamas, and curls up on her bed with Taxus beside her and her carbuncle plushie in her arms.

Then the shakes begin.

Notes:

Before we have good times there's gotta be a bit of whump, y'all, I'm sorry

Only a bit though

This is all V'ulpixie's and Shenpai's fault for inspiring me after the EW finale stream so thanks I guess

Nyrith's PJ Glam

Taxus the Staff

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Nyrith smiles through walking down the ramp from the Ragnarok. The ensuing roar from the crowd. The abundance of congratulations, reassurances, and words of gratitude from everyone she sees.

Somehow, miraculously, she lasts two hours.

Nyrith tells her fellow Scions that, really, she would love some rest, and some time to recover. That she'll be all right. Tells Alphinaud and Urianger, especially, that she will monitor her health closely, and she will see them in the morning, but for now needs time to herself.

(Doesn't notice Estinien watching as she goes.)

She smiles as she greets Ojika. Smiles until she reaches her room. Smiles until the door closes. She bathes, changes into her pajamas, and curls up on her bed with Taxus1 beside her and her carbuncle plushie in her arms.

Then the shakes begin.

That's all she can do for a while, is shake through the adrenaline drop. Shake through almost dying. Shudder through reliving her friends vanishing. Leaving her. One by one.

Thancred.
Estinien.
Y'shtola.
Urianger.
G'raha.
The twins.

(Don't think about Estinien don't think about it don't --)

Nyrith hides her face in her carbuncle stuffie and keens.

(A small, hysterical part of her wonders if they were conscious through being the atmosphere that she breathed. That she lived in. That she walked. To the end. To all of their ends.

Will she always have part of them with her? In her lungs, when she breathed them in? In her aether, when she cast her magic --

-- and then she squishes it flat, because she will otherwise go insane.)

Her staff, Taxus, chirps in alarm and the young dryad tries to sing a song of harmony to calm her down, but she can barely hear it over the extreme effort it's taking for her to just breathe.

It seems like it's never going to end, and she --

A voice breaks through the panic.

"My dearest, most precious sapling."

A hand strokes her hair. Coos.

"You did so very, very well."

A pause, as Nyrith suddenly registers a weight on the bed. She looks up to see the King of the Fairies, full form, if somewhat less flamboyantly attired, lying beside her.

She blinked.

The hand stroking her hair cups her face, thumb on her cheekbone.

"And I am so very, very sorry."

That does it.

"Feo Ul," Nyrith's voice is full of misery as tears start to slide down her face, and a kind of deadened exhaustion begins to sweep over her. Nyrith knows full well she's having quite the spectacular collapse of her emotional and mental faculties, but just can't bring herself to care.

"Yes, sweetling." The Fairy King slides closer, pulling her head to their chest, the stuffed carbuncle cradled between them.

"I'm so tired. I'm so tired and I can't close my eyes --"

"Dearest, you can. I promise. I promise you can," Feo Ul's voice starts to take a musical tone to match Taxus' song, "You will wake. There will be no nightmares. We will make sure of it."

As her vision fades to black, Taxus' singing in her ears, the Warrior sees she left her window open, yet again.

She sees someone's silhouette. Spiky armor. Tall figure.

A lance.

Almost as though they're standing guard.

Is that --

Is all she has time to think before sleep, in what she recognizes as Tyr Beq's and Titania's magic, drags her under and she knows no more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nyrith has absolutely no idea what time it is when she wakes, but it looks to be dark -- whether evening or early morning was anyone's guess. Feo Ul has returned to their smaller form and is curled up in Taxus' leaves, sleeping peacefully. A tray is on the nightstand, laden with fingerfoods and a small glass of juice, as well as a mug of her preferred white tea beside it. The tea was still steaming, so whoever it was must have just made it.

Her sleep was without dreams, nightmare or no, as Feo Ul promised. Tyr Beq's work was flawless. Nyrith would have to thank them the next time she returned to the First.

"You're awake. I had wondered when you would do so, given your ordeal. But I sensed your aether begin to stir, and sent for sustenance in case you were hungry."

The Warrior doesn't startle, if only because she's still too tired. A kind of poisonous weariness still drags at her bones, for all that she had rested with Feo Ul and Tyr Beq's intervention. She suspects that it's going to take longer than one period of sleep to recover.

"It has been two days. Your companions came by while you slept, but trusted that I and our siblings had your care well in hand, and left to take their own respite."

Nyrith feels a wave of relief wash over her. While she wanted to see the Scions, she was not quite ready -- yet, anyway. She studies the tray, then goes for the toast first, if only to see if her stomach was settled enough to eat, before looking up at the speaker.

Raya-O-Senna was standing by the table, books laid out on top of it. Her mentor smiles tentatively.

"Their majesty," she nods to Feo Ul, still sleeping, "sent word by branch and wind to their -- 'cousin', as they call each other, Frixio in the Sylphlands, that you had need of me. I'm glad A-Ruhn and I were part of the Gridanian delegation to Sharlayan, so I would not have to travel by aetheryte to reach you," she frowns a little, before coming to sit on the side of the bed.

"They were both...quite worried."

Nyrith's eyes well with tears, before swallowing her bite of toast and reaches for the juice with a shaking hand. Raya lets her take her time.

"It --" Nyrith coughs and she takes another sip of juice, " -- it was really, really bad, Raya."

Her mentor nods.

"I --" she puts the juice and toast back down, not sure what to say, " -- the debrief on this is going to be --"

"I don't care about that," Raya interrupts, taking one of her hands in her own, "You are my friend. And my patient. And my student. Those all come before the Warrior of Light. As I'm sure your brothers and sisters at the guild would tell you. And your own students in turn."

Nyrith feels a tear slide down her cheek. She does nothing to stop it. The emotional fragility is exhausting. Sitting up is exhausting. Everything is exhausting.

She's just so tired.

"And I would say, 'As I'm sure you know' but -- I'm not so certain that you do, mo geug2," Raya continues, gently patting her hand, "I think that much has been asked of you. Has it not."

It wasn't a question.

Her mentor continues, "Perhaps....too much?"

Nyrith nods. Then shrugs. Then gives up, leaning and resting her head on Raya's shoulder.

"I need to rest. And --" the Warrior flinches away from memories of Ultima Thule in her mind, " -- I'm afraid I --" her voice falters.

Raya doesn't say anything but only waits, always patient.

Both of them know Nyrith has to take the first step.

And Nyrith knows that she is safe here, with her mentor.

"I need to talk to someone."

Raya nods and motions towards Nyrith's tea, reminding her to drink it. The Warrior does so, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders.

"Honestly," Nyrith sips and hums in pleasure at the familiar taste, "I had wanted to for a while, ever since the Dragonsong War, but I had this feeling --" she grimaces. Raya only looks at her sympathetically.

" -- there wouldn't be time. I was always in a rush. There was always something happening, somewhere. Someone to help. Someone to heal. You know."

"I do," Raya turns to better face her, bringing one knee up on the bed and swinging her other leg alongside it, "It is the age-old dilemma of a white mage, or any healer besides. And now?"

"Well," Nyrith couldn't help the dryness in her voice, "I did just save the world, didn't I? If not now, then when?"

"Just so," they turn to see A-Ruhn enter the room, having closed the door and approaching them, "But I would say, for E-Sumi-Yan's sake if nothing else, that you don't pull a stunt like that again."

Nyrith grimaces and Raya swats his arm, "Really, brother?"

His tone is crisp as he wipes away yet another godsdamned tear from Nyrith's cheek, standing before them, "Nyrith knows I never coddle. Not even if she saves the world. Nay, the universe."

The Warrior chuckles, albeit a little wetly, "Indeed I do, A-Ruhn."

She's surprised all the same when he abruptly pulls her head toward his chest, cradling her in his arms. Nyrith knew he cared, knew the Sennas considered her a sister-in-power and spirit at least, if not in body, but A-Ruhn was the least demonstrative of the three, and any show of feeling was a gift to be treasured.

"Well done all the same, mo geug."

Nyrith sniffles. A-Ruhn only laughs at her and then huffs when Raya smacks him again.

"The emotional sensitivity is getting to you, eh?"

"This is awful. Make it stop?" her voice is plaintive and her two teachers sigh.

"You know we can't, Nyrith," Raya says gently, "You're suffering from aether overuse and shock, amongst a multitude of other things, and you know well enough why. And how long your recovery is going to take."

"I could write a book on it," A-Ruhn adds grouchily as he lets her go, putting some grapes in her hand, "Eat."

Nyrith looks down at the aforementioned fruit, picks one at random, then bites the top off it vindictively. Raya snickers. Neither of them can see A-Ruhn's expression behind his hair, but from the irritated-amused feel of his aether they know he's rolling his eyes at them both.

"So, for a variety of reasons, it should be probably Raya as your mindhealer, and not anybody in the rest of the guild. Or beyond, as I know you've expanded your repertoire to other healing magicks. One," A-Ruhn begins to count out reasons on his fingers, "the power a white mage holds is -- well. Beyond many of our brethren, I'm sad to say."

Nyrith nods. To be a white mage was to live in the world, which sounded flippant until one recognized that along with hearing and speaking to the Elementals, a white mage felt the life they encountered, and were at times more spirit than body themselves. It was an outlook that, unless you were a white mage yourself, was difficult to make clear to others.

Raya looks amused at her brother taking the reins of the conversation, but refrains from saying anything.

"Two," A-Ruhn puts down another finger, "The power you hold is --" he grimaced, "Quite anything beyond a normal conjurer. A white mage may be the only one who can understand what you're capable of and the ethics around it besides. As we've discovered in your development as a white mage, you are probably the closest to a padjal aetherically as is actually possible outside the race, besides potentially Sylphie. And obviously that would never work."

Nyrith and Raya both shudder.

No.

"Third," another finger, "For a mindhealer, you must have absolute trust. Raya will always hold your confidence. Is this not so?"

Nyrith nods.

"You can trust her to be honest. To care for your wellbeing. And to never share your secrets," he paused, "Well, I say that with the exception that she may need to discuss your care with one of us, but since we've been doing that already since you first emerged from the Sylphlands, I would hope you have no qualms."

The Warrior shrugs, "I don't see why I'd be bothered now, after so long."

"I'm glad that's settled," A-Ruhn goes to the window, "And since now you've wakened, perhaps I can finally persuade that dragoon of yours to go take a nap. He's been keeping a vigilant eye on you for the last two days."

Nyrith gapes, "I thought I was dreaming."

She's not blushing. No, she's not.

(Yes, she is.)
(It's not what she thinks it is. It's not. It's --
-- stop that.)

Nyrith sighs a little as Fray retreats into the background of her mind.

A-Ruhn, facing away from her, doesn't notice, but Raya does and makes a note of it to address later. A small giggle is heard and they both turn to see the Fairy King awake, smirking at them both.

Nyrith hastily looks down at her tea and sips, smiling bashfully as Raya nudges her arm.

"Don't think I'll forget about this."

The Warrior sniffles (curse these fucking mood swings, but also she loves her friends) and replies quietly, "I hope you don't. He," she nods toward the window where they both see a shadow dart skyward, and A-Ruhn heading now toward the table, "is part of the reason I need to talk to you."

Raya only smiles, "I'm glad, mo geug."

"I'll be looking over patient notes and won't be listening, but considering the precariousness of your physical health I do still need to be in the room for the time being, Nyrith. But feel free to get started with Raya," A-Ruhn pulls out a chair and grabs a quill, beginning to write on a piece of parchment nearby, "And eat your food."

That makes both Nyrith and Raya chuckle. The Warrior moves back so she's fully sat up against headboard, tray now across her lap and Feo Ul perched on her shoulder.

Nyrith takes a deep breath. Lets it out.

Feo Ul only hums and pats her cheek.

Raya reaches for her notebook and nods at her.

"Shall we begin?"

Notes:

Thought process:

Me, the writer: Don't you want fluff? Don't you want happiness? Don't you want --
Nyrith, banging her hands on the table: Give! Me! Suffering!
Me, the writer: For fuck's sake FINE

AKA This is how Nyrith gets her therapist, wheeeeeeee

  1. Taxus the Staff
  2. Mo Geug = My Branch/Bough (or slender young woman)

I think the endearment's fitting, and I love how it all plays together with Nyrith's origins in the Sylphlands and Feo Ul and the Pixies on the First. Maybe I'll get to writing more about that. Anyway.

I might write a follow-up from Estinien's perspective one day if anyone's interested. Who knows

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