Chapter Text
It hardly surprised her when the first day came and went. When the afternoon came on the second day, she wasn’t yet perturbed. Then the third day arrived, and the Warrior of Darkness worried.
She knew that Emet-Selch wouldn’t come for her immediately, but three days without a trace was troubling. She looked over her shoulder at every turn. Her carbuncle stood guard while she slept. She jumped at shadows. Before long, the Scions were wondering at her paranoid behavior.
“Just tired,” she laughed with a wave. “I haven’t taken a rest since we returned from the Greatwood.”
“Then it’s as fine a time as any to carry a message back to the Source,” said Thancred. “Tataru and Krile will never let us hear the end of it if we don’t keep them apprised of recent developments.”
There was little room to argue, not that she minded the errand. It would give her a chance to catch her breath, and perhaps get her thoughts in order.
…
While the Scions had adopted Mor Dhona as their home, it never quite felt that way to the Warrior of Light. She'd tried to mage herself comfortable, but inevitably the itch to wander would grow unbearable. Perhaps this was why her feet carried her toward Silvertear Lake before she thought to make for the Rising Stones. As long as her allies didn't know she'd returned, they would have no reason to complain about a fashionably late entrance.
The gloom's oily sheen was slicked across the skies, making it difficult to see across any significant distance. She knew her destination all the same. She walked until she stood on an outcropping of rock that overlooked the lake. The great wings of Midgardsormr were still visible -- or perhaps her own vivid memories filled in what her eyes couldn't see clearly. The great wyrm king whom she had won as an ally, an ancient being from some distant star.
She wished for his council. Knowing what she knew now, of Hydaelyn’s true nature and the sundering of the old world, she wondered what he might think. He slumbered still, having expended himself during the confrontation with Omega. There was no listening ear to be had. She felt a pang of sadness at his absence.
"Such a waste."
The Warrior spun on her heel, startled, but not entirely surprised to find that Emet-Selch had come at last. He stared past her toward the wreckage of the Agrius. Once the pride of the Garlean fleet it now lay in ruin, forever entwined with the great wyrm's corpse.
"If you hadn't lost your flagship, Garlemald may have conquered the rest of Eorzea. You must be terribly disappointed."
"To the contrary, I couldn't be more pleased. My empire crushed the horde under foot, and the battle sparked a chain of events which finally revealed you to me."
She bristled at being spoken of like some sort of conquest. With all that had passed between them on the First, her ancient self had clearly been important to Emet-Selch. By the stirrings in her heart, she knew he had been just as important to her. It spoke volumes that he would come to her now, broken as she was. He had offered a chance for the Scions to ally themselves wth him, but something about that didn't ring true.
"I can tell by the look on your face you didn't expect me to follow you here."
"You're right. What happened to the consequences of body hopping?"
"A frequent change of occupied hosts would be problematic, yes -- though thanks to Varis, there's an ample supply of empty vessels at my disposal."
"I'm not sure I want to know what that means."
"Don't think too hard about it. I would rather we move on to more pleasant matters." He fixed her with an impish look, and she swallowed against the sudden dryness in her mouth. He didn't miss the nervous bob of her throat.
"Oh come now," he continued. "You invited me to lay my claim. What did you think would happen?"
"We were destined to fight sooner or later," she lamented. He advanced only a step before she'd drawn her grimoire. She was on the cusp of summoning an egi when he barked a command at her.
"Put that away." The light in her eyes hardened, but she paused to hear him out.
"You've always been stubborn. While endearing, this is one time I won't tolerate it."
"Did you really expect that I would just give up?" His grin widened, and she felt a chill settle in the pit of her stomach.
"I happened to spy a settlement just north of here. We're not so far off that they wouldn't hear a scuffle." By the furrow of her brows, he knew his words had hit their mark.
"Don't you dare."
"Friends of yours, are they? Doubtless they'd hesitate to come running to your aid -- not that it would go well on their end.”
“This is between us. You don’t need to bring others into it. What do you want?"
"I thought it was obvious," he huffed, glaring at the book in her hand. She hesitated. He knew she would, but gradually she holstered the weapon at her side.
"That's dirty. Can't you fight without taking hostages?"
"I never promised to play fair. Chasing after you is exhausting." The tone of his voice was strange. Somehow, she knew he meant far more than simply following her from the First to the Source.
"Here," he spoke, snapping her out of her thoughts. He reached into his robes, and then she caught something between her hands before realizing he'd thrown it her way. Clutched in her fingers was a glass vial, some amber liquid suspended within. It was warm from his body heat. The idea of it sent a shameful flush creeping up her neck.
"Wh-what is this?"
"A simple hypnotic. Odorless, tasteless -- unless you have a preference? I do aim to please."
"You insufferable man," she growled. His expression shifted. This was something touched and genuine. Nostalgic. Just as quickly, he returned to wearing the grin that she increasingly wanted to slap off of his face.
"You don't need to drug me," she protested. "I'll go with you." He clucked his tongue in disappointment.
"I should give you an opportunity to think up some clever escape? I think not."
She shuddered, unsure if it was from the praise or the idea of being at Emet-Selch's mercy. At least when he'd tugged her through his portals, she'd kept some awareness of her surroundings. She'd known that they remained on the First, and that he hadn't taken her anywhere dangerous. She retained enough presence of mind and body to respond to a threat. Once she took his sedative, however, he would be free to do as he liked -- and she would be none the wiser.
"What will happen to me? Will I… become susceptible to suggestion? Am I to become your plaything?"
"Do you truly think so little of me?" He was growing irritable. "You will sleep for a time -- long enough for me to take you from here. I will do nothing ungentlemanly while you are unaware.”
She seemed unconvinced, warily eyeing the potion in her hands. “Do you promise?”
“Why do you continue to doubt me? You are too precious to me for lies.” He huffed, minding the little gasp she failed to swallow. Clearly this admission had caught her off guard. Perhaps it was the wounded tone he'd taken. “What more would you have me say?"
"Tell me why you’re doing it like this. There's a reason," she guessed. The upward curve of his lips confirmed her suspicion.
“Was I not clear enough? I warned I would be merciless."
"No. There's something else. What are you hiding?"
"Never you mind that. I shall reveal all after we are away -- but I tire of this game. I have waited for you for thousands of your mortal lifetimes. I won't be denied now." The look in his eyes darkened all at once, and the humor bled out of his expression. “Stop dawdling and drink it."
For a moment she only stared back at him. The vial suddenly weighed a million tonze in her hands. She could agree to his demands, sparing Rammbroes and the others a one-sided fight -- or she could try her luck at leading Emet-Selch to a more suitable battleground. The odds seemed less than favorable no matter which she chose.
"There are far more unpleasant ways to induce unconsciousness, my dear. If you insist on being fussy I’ll have no choice but to demonstrate.”
"You can't expect me to just go along with this."
"I can, and I do." He squared his shoulders and stepped forward. "You have until the time I reach you. After that…"
She watched him take one step after another, her heartbeat growing louder in her ears. Would he hurt her? She was no stranger to pain, but if the result was inevitable, she would rather avoid whatever alternative he had in mind. He was so close. She was out of ideas, and out of time.
With clumsy fingers she uncorked the vial and raised it to her lips, tipping the liquid down her throat. It was as inoffensive as he'd promised, but she sputtered all the same. The glass slipped away and fell to the ground. She clasped her throat as realization settled in, her body growing numb. Emet-Selch, of course, looked ever so much like the cat who had eaten the canary.
"I don't… I don't feel well," she announced on a trembling breath.
"The effects aren't that quick," he chided her. "You're only nervous. Come here."
He outstretched his hand in offering. She scowled, but soon took an uncertain step forward. His delight was made plain. The moment she placed her hand in his he shifted, snagging her by the wrist. One sharp tug and she was flush against his chest. His arm snared around her waist to hold her steady.
"Stubborn… but you're still a good girl for me, aren't you?" he murmured, twining his fingers into her hair. Her weak complaint was lost as he bent down to claim her, drinking deep of her fussy whimpering.
"You've nothing to fear, my dearest," he whispered between kisses, short and soft and sweet. "Trust me."
Something about that squeezed her heart, but she'd lost the ability to speak. His lips touched hers again, and this time she clung to him.
They remained that way until everything went black.