Stories about Milah Silvermoon. Others owned either by myself or my co-lore writer DB may also appear.

Please note that the following document may contain potentially triggering content. This is not Ao3 and I will not be tagging everything but this content could range from sexual assault, sexual situations in general, lots and lots of kinks, talk of killing people or dead people such as family members, and more. If you are triggered by these things to a point that reading them would be detrimental to your physical and/or mental health I suggest you skip reading anything I have written in this document or others for your own safety. If you are the sort who reads something you disagree with/that offends you/whatever and you feel the need become the Purity Brigade please don't bother - I've been down that road enough to know not to engage, so you will get nothing out of me except a block and a report for harassment.

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It was supposed to be a simple fishing expedition, but of course the weather had been rougher than expected and of course some hothead thought he was better than listening to the captain’s orders. With one rough lurch of the ship he had fallen in, and before anyone could stop her Milah threw her rod aside and took a deep breath as she dove over the railing after him.

Down, deep down into the murky depths of the rolling ocean. Swimming was as natural to her as walking, even if she couldn’t breathe underwater, and it didn’t take her long to find the unconscious man as he continued to sink. With a few easy strokes she caught up, her hand wrapping around his wrist and pulling him up until she could wrap her arm around his waist instead. Using her free hand and kicking with all her force she headed back for the surface, feeling her lungs burn for the want of air while all around her was nothing but water.

A rope hung down and Milah grabbed it, holding on tightly as she pulled herself up and gasped for air as soon as her head was above the surface. She made sure his head was above water too before tying the rope around his waist and signaling for the ship to pull him up. In the minutes it took for them to do that and throw another rope to her to climb out a rough wave slammed Milah into the side of the ship, knocking the wind out of her.

Stunned, Milah sank below the water once more. This time she didn’t have anything in her and her chest ached as it wished for her to open her mouth and breathe, but she knew she couldn’t or she would only end up inhaling water. But it was hard to concentrate, to keep herself conscious as she tried to get back to the surface. As her vision started to go black she finally made it, gasping as she reached out for the rope and pulled herself up.

On the deck she just sat on her knees, coughing and trying to spit out all the water she had accidentally swallowed. Thankfully the storm was mostly over and she didn’t have to worry about getting tossed overboard again, but the shakiness of the ship and everything else caused her to throw up all over the deck as well before curling up in a ball of misery. She had saved him, for all his arrogance, but at what cost?

She only remembered waking next in the Maelstrom infirmary, told later she’d passed out on the deck, and for her brave act of diving in after the man to save him the Maelstrom agreed to look after her until she woke. Milah brushed off the chirurgeon that tried to see to her once she was awake, however, grabbing her things and leaving despite the woman’s protests. No, she was better off on her own and she knew someone she could see if she needed medical attention down the line. Better that than staying with a Grand Company and possibly ending up being forced to pay whatever debt they thought she owed by being recruited.

******

Underground spaces often had a very distinct, damp smell to them – caves, basements, any of it really. Even the most well maintained places always had that little twinge of it if one knew to look for it, but the fact that it was really strong let Milah know that this probably didn’t fall into that category, along with the way the cold stone pressed into her shoulder as she lay there.

Damned pirates. They weren’t supposed to be a thing anymore, or at least not a real threat if they still existed. But the ship Milah had been working on as she made her way to Limsa was attacked, and everyone on board who survived taken hostage. Still they had clearly underestimated the Roegadyn woman, and it didn’t take her long at all to slip her restraints and pull the blindfold off once she was sure the guards weren’t paying attention – their footsteps had wandered off, and the only sounds she could hear were her own and those of the few captives in the cell with her.

As much as she felt for them, she couldn’t risk freeing them right away. They might give away her plans, or worse get themselves killed, so it was better that she did this part alone. Milah hid herself in a dark corner where the guards would have trouble seeing her, acted as if she was tied up like all the others, and waited.

Her patience paid off when another Roegadyn came and unlocked the doors, looking at the prisoners before setting his sights on her with a twisted grin. He grabbed her roughly by the arm, hauling her to her feet, and then grunted in surprise when her foot connected with his grundle and sent him sprawling. She jumped up quickly, pressing her weight on his chest and her hand over his mouth and nose until he passed out and then holding on for a few more minutes just to be sure he had stopped breathing.

“Everyone stay quiet. I’m going to get us out of here.” Milah said in a harsh whisper as the others in the cell with her finally seemed to have caught on to what was happening.

She undressed the guard and tied him up in the corner, making him look like another prisoner as she donned his clothing and stepped out of the cell with keys in hand. The cell was shut but not locked, as she had left a knife in the hands of one of the others she recognized from the ship. He was careful and resourceful, and she trusted that he would be able to make a plan while she scouted ahead.

Unfortunately Milah didn’t recognize where they were. Some kind of coastal cave system, but it wasn’t one she had ever seen before. Those walking around wore clear pirate uniforms much like the one she had ‘borrowed’ off the guard, and the captives she saw seemed to range from ships like herself to even a few flying Maelstrom colors.

Thankfully the pirates seemed relatively disorganized, so while a few didn’t recognize her face they saw what she was wearing and let her on her way assuming she was one of their own. Eventually Milah had a planned route to the surface and had found the armory, picking up mostly small weapons she could pack stealthily and a sturdy bow with a quiver of arrows. She made her way back down to the cells, opening the one she had come from.

“It’s just me.” She whispered, smiling as each of the prisoners stood up and removed their blindfolds. Each one was given a weapon, and Milah gave directions to the other cells as well as the armory and the way to the surface.

“Anyone who can fight, take the front. Anyone who can’t, hold up the rear and free other prisoners. Advise them of the same, and direct the ones who want to fight towards the armory. It'll be a miracle if none of us die, but I’d like to see as few causalities as possible.” There was no point in being unrealistic about this, but Milah watched as they seemed oddly comforted by the fact that she wasn’t trying to lie to them and say they’d all make it out alive.

After that things were pretty scrambled. Milah led the charge, yelling directions to the fighters and taking down plenty of the pirates herself with some steady shots. One arrow pierced her shoulder but she pulled it out and kept going, gritting her teeth against the pain. Eventually everyone funneled out of the entrance and Milah let off one last shot before turning to flee...Right into the waiting ranks of several Maelstrom units. Some stormed the caves, others looked after the captives, Milah included. Despite her protests she was sat down and patched up and told to wait until an officer came to speak with her.

“I’m given to understand you organized the others for the escape.” The officer looked at Milah, tilting her head.

“I did.” Milah huffed, crossing her arms. “And I would like to get out of here, if you don’t mind.”

“I understand, we just wanted to make sure we had the story straight before letting anyone go. You are not in any trouble, in fact we would like to reward you for helping save so many lives. After clearing the area we found only three dead that were not the pirates. It could have been much worse had you not shown such bravery in leading the captives out."

“That’s all well and good, but I don’t care about a reward. Whatever you were going to pay me, make sure it goes to giving those three a proper burial and supporting their families.” Milah stood up, wincing a bit as her shoulder flared but walking right past the officer and out into the world. Even if she knew some would inevitably die, those three lives would weigh heavy on her mind for a while…

******

The water was foul, and Milah didn’t like it one bit. She stared out through the fog, frowning as she couldn’t see more than a few feet past the edge of the boat. They were headed towards Pharos Sirius, the lighthouse glowing in the distance but its true size and how close it was completely obscured by their lack of visibility. Soon enough the ship pulled up to what remained of the docks and Milah departed, looking up at the eerie lights shining in the darkness.

The lighthouse had been damaged in the Calamity, and now large aether crystals grew out of its tower in a way that made it look like it had been pierced through. Many considered the island it sat on to be cursed, luring in sailors and killing them. How much truth there was to that Milah didn’t know, but she did know that she had to head up and see what was happening; more and more Maelstrom units had gone missing as of late, and she had been contacted to see what was going on. No easy task, but for a famed Warrior of Light it was surely easy, right?

She clutched at her bow, drawn with an arrow knocked and ready to fire at any moment as she approached the lighthouse and shouldered the door to make her way inside. The very air reeked with corrupted aether, and she didn’t take any chances; the first movement she saw she shot, the arrow striking true in the flesh of a slime-like monster. Bodies littered the floor but she knew better, readying another arrow and glad she did as one of the bodies came to life. To others this would have been startling, but Milah was ready as the arrow flew and hit the zombie in the head, exploding on impact just for good measure.

“By the Twelve…” She breathed, looking at the scattered corpses. Hundreds just here on the first floor, most wearing sailor uniforms or Maelstrom colors, all dead with the same shards of corrupted aether growing from their bodies.

Work cut out for her, Milah made her way through the pile. She shot each one, glad for her aether-imbued arrows meaning pretty much limitless ammunition in this case, and dragged the bodies outside to the beach. The ship that had come with her remained docked nearby, its sailors having their ears covered just in case and doing what they had agreed upon before hand; taking the bodies and making sure they were stored safely for transport back to the mainland so they could be given proper burials. Unfortunately most would never be identified since Milah quickly learned that the only way to ensure they remained unmoving was to destroy their heads, but some had other means of identification on them and that would have to do.

Before she was done the ship had to leave, but Milah pressed on. She was sure that the further up she went the fewer there would be, and in some senses she was right. Fighting a ship captain so warped by the corrupted aether wasn’t easy, and same went for the hounds he summoned, but she pressed on. More and more the creatures were clearly monsters and less humanoid, even when she tried to sneak past a nesting zu that really had nothing to do with what was going on and ended up having to fight it when it didn’t like how close she got to its babies.

Onward and upward, until she reached the top and there it was; the siren. A large and imposing creature in more ways than one, and as it tried to sing Milah let it. She was immune to whatever magic it was weaving to enthrall the living and the dead, which seemed to confuse the creature more than anything. An opportunity Milah took to fire an arrow straight at its chest, which she didn’t expect to kill it but that move gave her another opening to rush in and start some more hand-to-hand combat. Just from what it had already tried Milah figured it wasn’t much good in up close fighting, and she was right. Her bow shot down the zombies the siren tried to raise and her body otherwise served as a weapon delivering kicks and elbows to the creature until at last it fell upon the floor too battered to get up. Milah pulled her bow one last time, letting the arrow pierce the siren’s head and blow it apart just like everything else.

Sweaty and exhausted, Milah pushed on. She dragged the bodies of those at the top down the stairs and outside as the ship returned, and when she was done with that she dragged down the body of the siren too. The sailors burned it and she watched as its ashes floated into the air, the flame met with celebratory cheers for the defeat of the monster.

For Milah, however, it wasn’t a celebration. She had saved lives, yes, but at what cost? The siren, like so many others, was doing what it needed to survive. It fed on the corrupted aether, and on the aether of those who ran aground on the shores of the island. The siren in and of itself was likely a smaller form of the many Primals she had fought; something born of a sufficient quantity of aether and the belief in a creature luring people to their deaths and given form by both. She had only killed the result of that, and it always made her wonder; what made her any different? Was people’s belief in her as a Warrior of Light the only thing that gave her power?

With a heavy heart and mind she returned to the ship to wait for the return to shore, then she went to find Dawna. With hope the woman could soothe her tired body and give her some kind of distraction from it all.

******

Limsa was nice and all, but why did it have to be so bloody warm? Milah tossed and turned, feeling the sweat building on her skin as her body tried desperately to cool off. It was well into the small hours of the morning now, but it felt as hot as a noonday sun and she just couldn’t take it anymore.

Throwing on a tanktop and some shorts, Milah made her way out of the apartment building and down to the shores of the housing ward. The crashing of the waves was soothing as she waded out into the cold water, feeling the shiver up her spine as everything instantly cooled.

She swam out to where the water was easily at her chest at her standing height and then let herself go, floating on her back as the cool liquid around her began to lower her body temperature. Even the part of her that was exposed felt nice now, the sea water drying on her skin and helping keep everything nice. Eventually she fell asleep like that, waking only as the morning sun began to rise and the light shone into her eyes.

Another hot day was upon them, and Milah groaned as she swam back to shore and made her way to her apartment. Tiredly she dried off and dressed a little warmer, closing her eyes and focusing on where she wanted to go. In the blink of an eye she found herself in Ishgard, the cold snow falling around her a relief from Limsa’s heat. She trudged off to the nearby inn, grabbing a room before falling into the bed and all but passing out. At least here she could sleep a bit more comfortably, and perhaps for at least a few hours forget everything that was happening around her.

******

Milah sat quietly at the table, keenly aware of everything around her. The crackling of the torches nearby, the sound of the guard just outside the door, and her own discomfort at being where she was in that moment. Even something as simple as dinner was now just a whole affair that had to be managed, and what should have been a relaxing evening was causing her more stress.

“Milah, may I ask you a question?” Aymeric sat across the table, noticing her unease and trying to break the silence. When there wasn’t clear objection he poured another glass of wine and gave her a look somewhere between thanks and pity. “I feel as if perhaps no one has ever asked you this, but what do you want? Beyond slaying the Primals, beyond being the savior of Eorzea and Ishgard and whatever duties may call you away next? What is it that you want to do with your life?”

The question caught Milah off guard and she found herself staring at him while the half bite of food she had taken seemed to quickly turn to ash in her mouth. To give herself a moment to think she reached for her own wine glass, taking a drink to wash the taste out and hope that perhaps the alcohol would dull her senses enough to give him a coherent answer.

“You’re right, no one ever asked me. But even if they did, I think….my answer would be the same; my life isn’t mine anymore. Ever since I killed that first Primal, ever since I discovered I have Hydaelyn’s blessing, that I’m a Warrior of Light, that I got involved with the Scions…..everything I do now is spent in service to others.” She tried not to seem sad at that, but she couldn’t help it.

“And what if you weren’t all those things? What if you were just Milah the adventurer?” Aymeric pushed, as much as Milah had hoped he wouldn’t.

“I think….I would just like to marry Dawna, settle down with a Free Company and be adventurers. None of this saving the world, none of the weight on my shoulders, just going out and protecting people on a more basic level without nearly as much responsibility.” Milah shrugged, but she knew right away that answer would not suffice.

“So even if you were not bearing the title of Warrior of Light you would still want to protect others?”

“Most likely. I can’t say for sure, but I did join the Adventurer’s Guild long before I was known by that title and I was helping protect people even back then. Being a Warrior of Light isn’t so different at it’s core, it’s just a lot more complicated on the surface.”

“I see.” Aymeric seemed to leave it at that, but Milah knew the man well enough to know he had something in mind.

For his part, Aymeric could see that Milah was just tired. She tried to hide the dark circles from not sleeping well, if at all, and the way she carried herself when the rush of combat wasn’t a factor was a dead giveaway to the exhaustion creeping into every last piece of her.

They ate in silence for a while, both stuck in thought. But it was a comfortable silence, each secure in the other and knowing that their presence was enough for the time being. When it was over, however, Milah found herself not wanting to go. Not wanting to leave Aymeric.

Her relationship with Dawna was a sweet one, but also an open one. They were committed to one another but not bound, and Dawna had made it very clear that her work as a dancer at the Gold Saucer wasn’t going to change and that Dawna too desired to see other people sometimes. Even still Milah found herself hesitating; Dawna would not care at all if Milah spent a night with Aymeric, but somehow she still felt guilty about it.

“Milah?” Aymeric’s voice broke the cycle of her thoughts, and Milah looked up to see him standing next to her.

“I….Sorry, I guess I just got lost in thought for a moment.” Milah shook her head, standing up and giving a polite bow. “Thank you for dinner. It was...a nice reprieve.” She smiled, even if it was just a small, tired smile.

“You don’t have to go, you know.” Aymeric didn’t move, slightly blocking Milah’s ability to get to the door.

“I know, but I really should. Alphinaud will be expecting my return to House Fortemps, we have much to discuss about our next steps and-”

Milah found herself cut off as Aymeric took a single step to close the distance between them and she understood just on instinct what it was he wanted. She had enough time to react, to say no or step back or push him away, but she didn’t. Instead she leaned in, kissing him just as much as he was kissing her, finding some comfort in his body so close to her own and the feel of strong arms wrapped around her.

“Stay.” Aymeric said just that one word as they parted, and Milah knew by the way he said it that wasn’t up for debate.

“As long as you have a knight send word to Alphinaud. If he doesn’t hear from me he’ll be worried sick and come looking, and we don’t need him interrupting.” Milah was half joking, but she also knew that Alphinaud worried for her and at the very least would be nosy until he found her if she didn’t come back.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Master Alphinaud does not bother us over the course of the evening.” Aymeric smirked, and Milah found herself oddly at ease with the situation. Aymeric was taking control from her even as she tried to assert it, and that felt somehow freeing.

She waited a long moment as Aymeric took a step back, heading to the door and poking his head out briefly. Keeping true to his word, telling the guard to have someone head over to House Fortemps and tell Alphinaud that Milah would be staying the evening. Alphinaud would likely want to question her about it in the morning, but Milah was pretty sure the message would appease him enough to leave her be.

When that was done Aymeric closed the door, took Milah’s hand, and led her away to his chambers. While Ishgard was cold and unforgiving in most circumstances the people did know how to warm their houses and with a flame roaring in the fireplace nearby Milah felt an odd sense of comfort. Part of it was possibly also the alcohol talking, but she found herself having little problem removing the clothing she had chosen to wear for the dinner; carefully folded and put aside, of course, as Tataru had made the outfit and Milah did not want to get on the woman’s bad side by ruining it.

Then Milah helped Aymeric out of his armor. Not that he couldn’t get out of it himself, but with help the process did go at least somewhat faster. Knowing the general form of the elezen race Milah wasn’t surprised by how slender Aymeric was all things considered, but she also knew that for how strong he was the lithe body was deceiving.

Both bore their share of scars from combat, and Milah found her fingers tracing his carefully as they stood for a moment. Teeth and claws from dragons, weapons from his countrymen fighting on the side of the heretics. Each scar told a story and she could almost imagine them, knowing in turn Aymeric was studying hers. Attacks from Primals, the beast tribes, dragons in defense of Ishgard, and common individuals among others. Most were just scars on top of scars on top of scars, though for the moment Milah did find herself glad that the scars of battle covered up those from before she decided to become an adventurer. Her people took pride in competition and courage, and the lack of either was seen as disgraceful so she had grown up knowing nothing else and that tended to leave marks as well.

Aymeric had never struck her as a harsh man, despite his position. He handled everything with a sort of kindness, understanding and grace that reminded her of Minfilia, as much as the thought of that made her heart ache for her lost comrade. But something about the way he looked at her now, she knew that he was perfectly capable of dominating the situation in ways that required none of those things.

“Part of my job is to study people.” Aymeric started, reaching a gentle hand up and brushing his fingers against Milah’s cheek. “To know what they want, and then to calculate how best to go about giving it to them. And I can see in you that there’s the weight of the world on your shoulders; every day you need to make decisions that impact the lives of everyone around you. Not just your fellow Scions or those in high positions, but the common folk who have nothing to do with any of this and are simply living their lives day to day. So what you need, for a change, is to not be in charge.”

Milah looked back at him, tilting her head a little bit. She didn’t fully understand what he meant, not really, and seeing that in her Aymeric decided to elaborate.

“You need someone to tell you what to do in a way that doesn’t involve risking the lives of others. So if you want, whenever we are behind these closed doors I can provide that for you.” He smirked again, and Milah found herself blushing as everything clicked into place in her head.

“I….I don’t know.” She mumbled, finding herself trembling a little in nervousness.

“How about this, then; we’ll establish a safe word, and if you ever want to stop all you have to do is say so. But once that word is established I’ll go forward as if you had said yes, and until either you say the safe word or we come to dawn tomorrow you will do as I say.” Aymeric was being reasonable, Milah knew, and some part of her wanted this so deeply she wanted to say yes. But all she could do was nod at him, standing there filled with a mixture of excitement and fear.

“I...I know the safe word is supposed to be something you wouldn’t normally say in situations like this.” Milah managed after a moment, finding some level of composure. “How about….Gridania?” Names were a bad idea for a lot of reasons, or at least people’s names, and mundane words just seemed awkward to her. But thinking about the beauty of Gridania and the Twelveswood, of the people she had met there and warm nights under the stars – that made it seem like as good of a word as any.

“Gridania it is then.” Aymeric agreed, giving Milah a moment to process before he leaned up to kiss her again.

It was different this time, more aggressive. Standing in their undergarments, bodies mostly exposed, the warmth of flesh on flesh and the electric sensation of Aymeric reaching a hand up to grip her hair to hold her closer. Milah felt a shiver run down her spine, because that sort of commanding presence wasn’t something she was used to. But there was power in knowing that as long as she said the agreed upon safe word whatever was happening would stop. She could get dressed and walk away and…

“You’re already wet.” Aymeric’s voice again brought her from her thoughts, and Milah looked down to see that his hand was already between her legs. Even through her smallclothes just the thought of the night ahead had her worked up and Milah found herself blushing with embarrassment.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Could she really face Aymeric in a professional setting after a night like this? Her mind was torn, because he knew exactly what she wanted and needed and was willing to give it to her and they had already come this far, but anything further just seemed too much. Especially when she thought of Dawna and…

Milah moaned, feeling warm fingers press into her. She hadn’t said the safe word and Aymeric seemed too familiar with how to bring her out of her own head. The surprise of it made her brace on his shoulders, amazed that he didn’t seem bothered by the extra pressure. Then again for as tall as she was Aymeric almost matched her in size, and he was much stronger than his form let on. That bracing also didn’t last long, Aymeric using his weight and training and the fact that Milah was off balance to gently push her back into the nearby wall so she had something to support herself with. Milah leaned back, her hips bucking slightly into Aymeric’s hand as he continued to finger her, skilled in a way that Milah wasn’t used to.

Sex with Dawna was an affair unto its own, and while Milah was no stranger to sex with men she knew that most were only interested in themselves when it came down to it. Aymeric, however, was oddly attentive to her needs. Tender, almost, his other hand bracing the small of her back and pushing in a way that seemed to amplify the sensations she felt. He kept going, seeming to know just where to push and touch until Milah hit orgasm and then rather than simply stopping he slowed his pace to help her come down off the high before pulling back entirely.

“You needed that.” Aymeric chuckled, helping Milah stay upright as the sensations washed over her.

“Yes….Yes I did.” Milah managed with ragged breaths.

After giving her a few minutes to recover Aymeric reached out and began pulling at the last of her clothes, leaving undergarments discarded for them both and knowing that now no barrier stood between them. Milah’s head was still swimming a little so she didn’t resist, but she was glad when Aymeric led her to the bed and pushed her onto her back. He was taking charge and she didn’t have to think, though her mind still wanted to drift to other thoughts.

As soon as Aymeric saw that look in her eyes that said she was thinking outside the moment he kissed her again, bringing her right back into it. One hand rested on her inner thigh, pushing as a signal to spread her legs and she obliged. His dick pressed into her and she moaned loudly, though it was stifled by their mouths still being connected. Aymeric wasted no time in moving, pulling back only to push right in again, a slow and almost torturous rhythm. Milah also realized he had been paying more attention than she realized, as each thrust was angled slightly differently until he rubbed against something that made her back arch as the pleasure started to flood through her. Then his hands locked onto her hips and he pulled back, pushing into that same spot again and drawing moans from her lips so easily if Milah had more of her senses about her she’d have been embarrassed.

Aymeric kept that up, drawing Milah into another orgasm. And another, and another, and every time she thought she couldn’t take any more he would keep going. When he finally pulled out she fell flat against the bed, wondering for a moment what felt off before she realized Aymeric hadn’t cum inside of her. He turned quietly while her high wore off, finishing himself before slowly making his way to lay beside her.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know.” Milah mumbled, staring at the ceiling for a long moment.

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” Aymeric laid his head on her chest, snuggling close as the sweat began to cool them both to almost chilly despite the fire going in the room.

After a long moment he moved the blankets and pulled them up, giving some much needed warmth to the situation. Milah still had a hundred thoughts in her head but she couldn’t seem to focus on any of them and opted instead to close her eyes, drifting off into quiet sleep.

She would wake in the morning with Aymeric still next to her, though some time in the night she had rolled onto her side and pulled him against her and he didn’t seem to be objecting. As the memories of the night before hit her Milah bit her lower lip, taking a deep breath to try and collect her thoughts. Thankfully Aymeric seemed sound asleep, so once she had her head together a little more Milah was able to get up, put a few more logs on the fire and stoke the dying flames back to life, dress and be on her way.

Milah wouldn’t have known what to say to Aymeric anyway, so she just bid a guard to tell him that she had returned to House Fortemps for now and made her way through the streets of Ishgard back to home that was harboring them for now.

“Good morning Milah!” Tataru chirped happily as Milah wandered in, giving the taller woman a good look.

“Good morning, Tataru. I’m sorry I was absent last night, but I trust word got to you as well.” Milah reached up and tried to fix her hair a bit, though she knew it wasn’t going to get much better than it currently was.

“That you stayed the night with Ser Aymeric? Yes, I heard. Alphinaud couldn’t seem to understand why you would do such a thing.” Tataru was almost teasing, putting a blush back on Milah’s cheeks.

“Well, he is still a child after all.” Milah shrugged, putting her hat back on and lowering her head a bit so the brim at least shadowed some of her face.

“Indeed he is. I hope you at least had a good evening.”

“I did. I don’t know if I would do it again, but we had a very lovely dinner.” Milah had been about to say something else when she noticed Alphinaud coming into the main room of the house, dressed and ready and clearly coming to investigate the source of the conversation.

“And dinner was all you were supposed to have. We had important things to discuss, remember?” Alphinaud crossed his arms, but Milah just shrugged.

“And I needed a night off, spent in good company getting drunk for a change. You’ll understand when you’re older.” She really didn’t want or need his attitude at the moment, and harsh as those words were Milah found that she didn’t regret them.

Alphinaud seemed a bit put off, but recovered quickly as he shook his head.

“Fine, I suppose so. But now that you’re here we really should discuss our next steps.” He insisted, motioning for Milah to follow him. She rolled her eyes but did as he asked, though she knew she’d be too distracted to be of much help for at least the remainder of the day.

******

Milah had been to seem Aymeric on and off since they slept together, but it had never gone into the bedroom again. Milah was worried they wouldn’t be able to maintain professionalism after getting so personal, but Aymeric was perfectly capable of it and his ease in addressing her with formality set her back on the right track when they had met afterwards.

And for the most part, Milah had been happy with Dawna – after Aymeric had taught her what she truly needed when it came to sex getting Dawna to understand and take that role when needed hadn’t been difficult. She’d also slept with Thancred, tried with Urianger and a few members of the Free Company with no luck, and had a small series of one night stands with individuals she barely remembered the morning after. It wasn’t self-destructive, she just indulged where she wanted to and moved on when it was all over.

But now things were serious. Papalymo was dead; he’d sacrificed himself to help contain a Primal, and they had precious little time to figure out how to defeat the thing before it breached containment. Yet for now there was absolutely nothing she could do; everyone else was trying to find the way, she just had to be on standby to help make decisions and fight if necessary.

Milah went to find Urianger, not caring what strange looks the Elezen gave her. The weight of that death was too heavy to bear alone after everything else, after Moenbryda and Haurchefant, after everything else she had lost.

“I’m going to Ishgard. You can get me on the linkpearl if it’s urgent.” She turned around before he could say anything, walking back out and grabbing her chocobo from the stables before heading for the nearest aetheryte. She held the reigns in her hand as she focused on the crystal, willing it to take them to Ishgard.

There she put Mooncolor in the stables and went to find Aymeric. He’d told her how to reach him now that his station had changed, but it still felt awkward walking in and looking at the knight standing guard outside the door.

“I need to see Ser Aymeric.” Milah pulled herself up, able to put on the face of Warrior of Light for at least a few moments.

“Ser Aymeric is in a meeting currently. You are welcome to wait if you would like.” The knight motioned to the nearby tavern, but Milah found herself shaking her head.

“That’s fine, thank you. I won’t be here long, I was hoping perhaps to catch him when he wasn’t busy but I see luck isn’t with me.” She forced a smile, giving the knight a bow before walking away.

Stupid, she thought to herself. Stupid and selfish to assume he’d be available whenever she came wanting him. He hadn’t tried to push their relationship any further, and he hadn’t tried to have sex with her again though Milah could tell sometimes when they were together he wanted to. Why he never asked her again was something she couldn’t comprehend, but neither had she done anything to invite him any further.

That was her fault. She knew what he wanted, and she knew her relationship with Dawna was open and the Au Ra didn’t mind. But something in her felt like that was a betrayal, because Dawna deserved better. She deserved the loyalty after everything she had been through.

Lost, confused and blaming herself more than anything Milah wandered out of Ishgard. No one stopped her as she had her head up and looked like she knew where she was going. Most of the knights or guards knew her by her appearance alone and it wasn’t in them to question where she was going, something she knew she could use to her advantage.

Milah just wandered, farther and farther, until she finally collapsed in the middle of the frozen wastes. She turned her head and buried her face in the snow, screaming as loud as she could and knowing the fluffy, cold substance would muffle it so there was no chance any passing patrols might hear her.

“So that is it then? You will simply lay down and die?” A familiar deep, draconic voice echoed in her head and Milah tilted her head slightly before making a disgusted noise and closing her eyes.

“Go away.” She mumbled, having no desire to deal with the tiny floating dragon.

“No.” Midgardsormmr vanished for a moment before reappearing in a slightly larger form. He laid himself next to Milah in the snow, using his wing to shelter her from the biting winds.

“Let me die.” Milah sobbed, not caring that her tears froze almost instantly.

“No.” Midgardsormmr said again.

Milah grumbled but otherwise made no objections, curling up and letting the cold take her. Even with the dragon’s wing keeping away most of the wind chill Coerthas was still just achingly freezing, and while it would take her longer to freeze to death with him standing guard it would still happen if that was all he did. So she gave in to the blissful blackness, where there was no pain and no suffering and no beating herself up about the people that had died because she wasn’t strong enough to save them.

“Ser Aymeric.” The knight gave a salute as Aymeric exited the meeting, drawing his immediate attention.

“Yes?” He inquired, exhausted after hours spent discussing the various important topics on Ishgard’s reform and renovation.

“Milah was here. She asked to see you, and when I told her you were in a meeting but she was free to wait she said she wouldn’t be in town long and wandered off.”

“Hm.” Aymeric stood there a moment, looking at the knight after a long moment. “And she didn’t say where she was going?”

“No ser, she just headed for the gates and out into the snow. But I thought you might want to know she had been by.”

“I see, thank you.” Aymeric nodded before heading off, reaching up to activate his linkpearl and reaching out to Milah.

When there was no response after a few tries Aymeric knew it was time to worry. Nothing the knight had described was characteristic of Milah, and he had known her long enough and well enough that this was a major red flag.

“Master Alphinaud?” Aymeric made another call.

“Ser Aymeric? This is an unexpected surprise.” Alphinaud answered.

“And I fear it may not be a good one. Pray tell is Milah with you or any of the other Scions?” Aymeric tried to keep the worry from his voice, but he knew that was an exercise in failure.

“Urianger heard from her some hours ago saying she was headed to Ishgard, I presume to see you. I can ask around, but I have not yet heard of her return.” Alphinaud now also sounded worried, not liking the implications of Aymeric’s words.

“A knight informed me that she was here asking after me, but I was in a meeting and could not see her at that moment. When told this the knight said she informed him she would not be staying long and then she left the city.” Aymeric frowned, already turning on his heel to head out to the knights.

“I will ask and see if anyone has seen her since she departed for Ishgard, and I will try to reach her.” Alphinaud too was already moving, knowing where he could start asking for Milah’s whereabouts.

“I called you because I tried her first and she is not answering. She can’t have gone far, I will fetch some knights to aid in the search.” Aymeric sighed, letting the worry come through full force in that sentence but not caring.

“I see. Very well, I will ask here anyway. If no one knows where she has gone then perhaps she confided in someone about why, and that could lead us to some answers.” Alphinaud waited a moment, but when Aymeric said nothing more he cut the call and began his search.

“Milah!” Aymeric shouted, hearing his own voice echo in the snow – joined by that of the knights that had come with him, all searching for Milah.

Midgardsormmr raised his head, looking at the knights in the distance and then lifting his wing. Milah had stopped crying some hours before, presumably too exhausted to continue, but her breathing had become ragged and unstable as the life slowly leeched from her body in the icy environment.

He stood then, shaking off the snow and making the loudest roar he could muster without using the full weight of his power. Enough to draw the knights rushing towards him; an unfamiliar dragon that could easily be part of Nidhogg’s brood was enough to draw their attention and bring them forward with weapons at the ready.

Once they were within easy line of sight Midgardsormmr took off, blowing the snow back from Milah’s body as he fled. The knights were somewhat perplexed at this, and none sought to stop Aymeric when he rushed forward and pulled Milah up from the snow. He carried her back to Ishgard himself, refusing to leave her side as the chirurgeons worked to get her out of her wet, cold clothes and raise her body temperature.

“We’ve done all we can.” One finally told Aymeric some hours later, her face looking at the still unconscious Milah while trying to mask her emotions.

“Will she wake up?” Aymeric asked, not taking his eyes off Milah.

“We don’t know. She was dangerously close to death, she must have been out there for hours. There are no signs of external wounds so she wasn’t hurt, and outside of her low temperature we can’t find any signs she’s ill. I think at this point it’s up to her if she wants to come back.” The chirurgeon wouldn’t say it, but they all knew where the signs were pointing.

“Thank you.” Aymeric held Milah’s hand a little tighter, feeling how cold she still was despite the efforts of the chirurgeon. “Milah…..please come back.” He whispered, settling himself to wait.

Over the next few hours he slowly informed the relevant parties of what had happened. While none could spare time to head all the way to Ishgard, they trusted she was safe in Aymeric’s care and tried to carry on as best they could while waiting for updates.

Milah was in blissful darkness. Thoughts came to her sometimes, but they didn’t stay long enough for her to get a grasp on them. It was just oblivion, stretched out forever before her, and a sense of calm she hadn’t known in what seemed like forever.

Then an eruption of light that made her eyes hurt, and she found herself staring up at the ceiling. The weight of warm blankets pressed in on her, and the feeling of someone holding her hand. Everything felt sluggish, and it took far more effort than it should for her to squeeze the hand in her own.

“Milah?” Aymeric’s panicked but familiar voice reached her ears and she put effort into squeezing her hand again, feeling him holding on to her like a tether keeping her from slipping back into the darkness.

“Please hold on. Please….” He sounded so desperate, and it took her a moment to realize he was crying.

The darkness took her again, but it wasn’t like before. Now she dreamed, now she felt the pain of the losses that had sent her into the cold abyss and she wished for that oblivion. Yet that never returned, and she found herself waking again to the sound of a quiet conversation.

“And that was a few days ago?” She recognized Alphinaud’s voice.

“Yes, but the chirurgeons say she’s stabilizing. Her internal temperature is rising at a slow but steady pace and she hasn’t been getting worse.” Aymeric’s voice, which made Milah turn her head away almost out of shame.

“I see. Please keep us apprised then, we will do what we can about everything in the meantime.” Alphinaud waited a moment and then Milah heard the sound of his footsteps heading down the hallway away from her room.

The door opened and Aymeric came back inside, resuming his place at her side and holding her hand gently. Milah turned her head towards him and opened her eyes, managing to smile just a little bit. The relief on his face and the way he squeezed her hand before he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to her lips was enough to keep her there, for now. Whatever abyss she wanted to sink into was gone now, replaced only with a want to sleep, recover, and then do what she could to make a proper apology to everyone once she was better.

******

It took Milah days to recover from her time in the snow, but even then she seemed...distant. Some said apathetic, and others questioned if she was still fit to be called a Warrior of Light and help in all the ways they needed her to with that title.

Milah didn’t care. She still wished for death, despite Aymeric and Dawna being there for her. It was all too much – would she lose them, too? Lose everyone she cared about? How bad would it get if Dawna fell in the field, or if Aymeric was killed by a dragon? Those were the thoughts on her mind during times like this, and it led to all the rumors circulating.

“Come on, you have to eat something.” Dawna held out the bowl of soup, watching carefully as Milah took it.

Milah said nothing. She hadn’t uttered a word since that day when they found her in the snow. She just stared at the soup, and the steam rising up off the warm surface, before slowly eating.

“Is she still not talking?” Aymeric poked his head in for a moment, looking at Milah before looking at Dawna.

“No, hasn’t said a thing. I don’t...I don’t know what’s going on with her. I don’t understand.” Dawna was clearly upset, and Aymeric shook his head.

“The chirurgeons say she’s fine, physically, but she did…well, you know. I think you two just need to spend some time together, she’s fine to travel so once the weather clears you should take her home. I think that will be more help to her than staying here.”

“You’re probably right. Thank you, Ser Aymeric.” Dawna watched as he walked off, no doubt on his way to some important meeting, and she sighed as she looked back at Milah. “Will going home really help?” She asked, not expecting an answer and in turn not receiving one. There was just the silence that sat heavy between them, Milah refusing to talk and Dawna not sure how to get her to open up, and everything else going on making the whole situation that much more complicated…