#but... he misses his best friend. and he hopes estinien misses him too <3

[tenebriism]

Do you have any headcanons or thoughts about Aymeric's relationship with Estinien?

// I do, yes. Aymeric and Estinien's bond took some time to become a favorite of mine, I'll admit, and that's likely because it took me a while to understand and warm up to Estinien himself. How close they really, TRULY are didn't hit me until the scene where Aymeric is sitting at Estinien's bedside, and then I went 'oh. OH,' and proceeded to cling to the idea of them from then on.

They're so different from each other. They share the same values and wants, but it's like the golden retriever puppydog with the stoic, clad in shadow wolf.

Aymeric is the guiding light, the leader, the one who steps forward and does not hesitate to be the face of hope and strength for his people and his friends, while Estinien fights for the very same thing, but from the shadows. He's often posted off to the side, in the corner or against the wall, just listening. Observing. But, best believe if you need him? He's also there, just like Aymeric. They are so ALIKE but so different at the same time, and I absolutely eat UP that sort of dynamic.

There are also a lot of complexities, too. Estinien is Aymeric's best friend and most cherished confidant, besides maybe Lucia, and even then, his bond with HER is largely professional. He longs for and greatly enjoys Estinien's company, even despite knowing his best friend isn't one for idle chitchat or opening up; Estinien LISTENS, though, and listens well, and Aymeric is comfortable being vulnerable in front of Estinien, where he can't be vulnerable in front of anyone else (and for someone who's leading a nation that's still recovering and rebuilding, the need and opportunity to be vulnerable are CRUCIAL, lest Aymeric crumble beneath the weight of it all).

Their bond, understandably, is very tense in Heavensward, but when it all comes to a close and that new, hopeful chapter begins, paving the road to eventual happiness and prosperity in Ishgard, I think that sense of longing that Aymeric has (and does well to hide) almost hurts him, to some tragic and sad extent. He's proud of his friend and is eager to watch him grow stronger, to travel, to be more ESTINIEN than he is the AZURE DRAGOON, but... then he remembers how strained everything has been. How he almost lost Estinien MULTIPLE times (and Estinien almost lost him once, with the assassination attempt.) How he wonders how Estinien feels about him, if Estinien is proud of him, if Estinien would ever come to call Ishgard HOME just like Aymeric does. He thinks about Estinien quite often in both good and bad ways, and I'd say it almost consumes him.

fklwalkflkwa ahhh I'm RAMBLING, but I just... I feel so strongly about them both. ;_; It makes me want to play through Heavensward again so I can approach the expansion with this new mindset, and maybe even catch things that I didn't the first go-round. The fact that both of them still mention each other in the expansions that follow, even being regions upon regions apart, it just... UGGGGH, they're so important to one another and I'm CRYING.

[porta-decumana]

5.55 spoilers below:

The MSQ was good.  I’ve been pretty critical of the MSQ since 5.0 (it’s pacing has left a bit to be desired imo except for 5.3) and 5.5 did not feel like the hype train it needed to be but 5.55 rectified it somewhat.  I still feel as though most of my hype is from the 6.0 trailers/info from Fanfest, not from how the story is presenting the next expac.  But I still enjoyed it overall and thought it was def above passable.  Just lacking a certain ‘oomph’ aspect I feel would’ve made it better.  Definitely an A- in my book.

The solo instance was by far my favorite part of the MSQ and probably the best thing about 5.5.  I loved getting to swap between the characters and revisit spooky lunar versions of our old primal friends.  I was very excited to see Old Lord of Crowns back again when I got to play as Urianger.  I hope that’s a sign that they’re revising the cards again, at least to give AST something a bit more for DPS rather than Malefic, Gravity, Combust, and Earthly Star.  I really miss old Lord of Crowns.  Critting that felt good.

Poor G’raha was probably traumatized by my awful BLM play.

Aymeric with the “I beg your pardon” line had me actually chuckling irl.  I am glad we’re finally putting to rest the beast tribes as secondary, passive antagonists.  It feels like a plot point overdue in terms of needing to be wrapped up.

Estinien dodging Aymeric just to fail to dodge Aymeric = good shit.  I hope Estinien is also ready to have Nidhogg roar when he’s in my Trusts.  What is that Koji?  He wants to make sure he doesn’t go too hard and hurt us?  He didn’t seem to care during the Carteneau instance.  .__.

Fourchenault was very much what I expected.  I feel like he’s sus though for reasons the characters have stated.

I’m still waiting for Fandaniel and Zenos to do something that feels pertinent other than vague about things as they have for the past 3 patches.  It’s been nice and we did get a tidbit more with the roar from the tower but... I was wanting a bit more.  Just a smidge.  Also there’s no way that roar isn’t Anima.  Having just watched FFX footage, the roar sounds the same but louder in FFXIV.  Runner up thought: the roar is some primal embodiment of Garlemald which terrifies me more because what if that means a primal version of Solus?  Anima seems more likely though.

Venat being the person at Silvertear feels basically confirmed now with Hydaelyn-like dialogue to go along with it.  I question why nothing more is made of that scene.  The WoL at this point is probably seasoned enough to be like “hey guys... there’s some shit going down, I just saw a weird glowing lady over there that sounds like Hydaelyn” but I digress, maybe that’s me projecting a bit.

I’m not done with Bozja yet (gotta do the new instance) but some thoughts after hitting rank 25:

I’m ngl, once I would’ve been all for the Mikoto x Cid stuff but since I have a friend who ships her WoL with Cid, I’m just... hm.  It’s reaffirming the fact that I like having the NPCs having ambiguous love lives instead of having shipping in the actual quests.  I think Yoshi P has made good calls in the past about being as open with stuff like that as possible so people can headcanon whatever they want.  So seeing it up front... has me with mixed feelings.  

Where is Nero, where is my boy.  This entire experience would be improved if 1 Nero tol Scaeva was present.

Gaius getting namedropped was nice considering the entire Zadnor arc feels super ARR-esque.  Gabranth feels like a younger Gaius with less indoctrination and a different end goal.  Gabranth was my favorite character in XII and I’m excited to see more of him.

Oboro and Tsubame being in Zadnor were both pleasant surprises.  As well as the Nagxia lore from the field notes.

Overall, Zadnor being the exact same thing as Bozja is just... I mean, I expected this.  They told us this.  But that doesn’t make it any more palatable.  At least the level grind isn’t too awful (looking at you Eureka).  The first area was abysmally flat and uninteresting but the rest of the zone is okay.  I wish if we were gonna continue to get instances like that, they would be... less bland and flat?  It just makes the slog seem more sloggish imo.

SHEMHAZAI <3

Lilja is growing on me.  I wish her a happy be in more content in the future and a very live through all of it.

I continue to be conflicted about Misija.  I think if I resent her at all, it’s because she kicked my ass one too many times in DR.  I’m... intrigued about what will happen to her, I guess. 

Fran showing up again with the speeder and giving me big XII nostalgia.

Cid coming back for this arc of Bozja ALSO felt really good.  I was sad when he wasn’t around for the last few installments.  I’m glad he’s getting to resolve his feelings about the Bozja Incident.  

[starswornoaths]

We Swear by Rote - Commission!

A commission done for the always wonderful @thegildenheart featuring Allie and her loves! Thank you again for your patronage, my dear! <3

4.5 spoilers!

Allie wakes following the battle with Zenos in the last place she expected, but swiftly finds that that’s not a bad thing.

word count: 3,794

Commission info!

Win or lose, the path you walk leads to oblivion. The better path leads you here. To me.

The words rang in the space between Allie’s ears as the glittering, ethereal vision in her mind grew dark. There was a weightlessness in that ensuing stillness that unsettled her, made her feel adrift at sea with nothing, not even flotsam from a shipwreck, to cling to. The dark that encased her was such a deep, permeating shadow that she couldn’t even tell if her eyes were open— or if it would even matter. 

Eventually, she was pulled beneath that inky abyss by an unseen riptide, and at first she thought to fight it, to thrash and struggle, but then the pressure in her head lessened in that way it did when she floated closer to the surface of the sea— she was falling not deeper, but out, of the dark. It was a strange feeling to breach the surface of that abyss feet first, but that first gasp of crisp air tasted just as sweet.

Allie could only describe waking up as her consciousness sinking back into her body one drop at a time. It started with the pounding ache behind her eyes— ah, she had closed them— and slowly, feeling returned to her leaden limbs. Her whole body ached, pulsed with heat and pain, but with that agony came the relief of waking up at all.

Her body caught up with the rest of her at the last, when her eyes snapped open with a wide gasp, half against the pain, half to force her lungs to work through the burning. In a flash, it was as though she felt her soul click into place, and her nerves went alight with overstimulation. The scent of antiseptic burned in her nose, her skin itched from the scratch of bandages, and she was forcing herself upright before she had even realized she had moved.

Another gasp in the room— not Allie, she realized when she heard a chair skitter across wood. Even as the noise sounded too sharp for her ears at the moment, she looked at the source to see poor Honoroit staggering backwards in shock. Before she could remember how to form the words for an apology, he was dashing off through the wide doors beyond.

His presence here meant she was— ah, but this room was glumly familiar. She was in Ishgard, in the chirurgeon’s ward of the Congregation. In the very same bed Estinien had woken up in. Gods, but that felt like a lifetime ago.

The heavy thunder of footfalls fast approaching was enough to pull Allie’s focus back toward the door, though she couldn’t hide her shock at the figures that came into view.

Honoroit had left to fetch the Lord Commander and the Captain of the Watch, it would seem. All for her.

Faster than Allie could track with her eyes, Hilda closed the distance and practically slid the last half fulm of the wood floor on her knees to pull Allie to her, arms wound tightly around her hips.

“Allie— gods, you’re awake! We were—” Hilda’s eyes were wide, rubies glinting with the shine of unshed tears. 

Her hands seemed not to know quite where to settle until they found Allie’s face and held it in her palms. Her frenetic jittering stilled, save for the heaving in her chest, as her eyes darted over her lover as if in search of blatant injury.

Finally, she found her voice again, quieter, almost trembling. “You’re alright, yeah? You’re— you’re here, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Allie managed to croak, throat dry as the Sagolii. 

Though it was only for a moment, Hilda’s lip quivered. As if to hide the rest of her outburst, she wrapped her arms around Allie’s hips and curled into her torso, ear pressed as tightly to her chest as she could, as if she were burrowing down to her very heartbeat. 

“You don’t have to fret over me, Hilda.” She tried again after a heavy swallow.

“I’m not fretting.” Hilda lied, pressing closer.

It was a paltry comfort, holding the back of Hilda’s head and rubbing her thumb back and forth in an effort to comfort her, but it was all Allie could do. She hoped it was enough.

Distantly, she heard Aymeric murmuring to Honoroit— a request to notify House Fortemps that she had woken up, and more of those fading runner’s footfalls. The weighty clack of armored boots against the floor were slower, more measured, as Aymeric drew close enough that those ornate boots came into the peripheral of her vision.

“Thank heavens you’re awake, my friend,” he said around a relieved sigh.

When Allie looked up at him, she saw the heavy bags under his eyes— nearly as heavy as Hilda’s. She wondered how long she had been out, but feared upsetting them with the question. 

“What happened? Zenos—” Allie cut herself off with a frown, racking her brain for what happened and how she had managed to avoid death at the dancing corpse’s hands.

Hilda squeezed her arms tighter around her.

“You remember that, at least.” Aymeric said quietly.

As Hilda shifted to sit beside her, Aymeric explained what had happened— how Estinien had swept in at the last second to fight Zenos off and carry her to him, and how he had spirited her away. He went on to detail that Zenos quit the field after that, and the Imperials withdrew, allowing the Alliance to take back their position.

“But I have taken up enough of your time,” he said, and though his smile was tired, it was genuine. “I must needs return to the front— and I will be sure to notify Lady Ysayle once I am there of your condition, lest she fret herself into freezing the whole camp.” He paused halfway to turning and amended, “Before I forget, I was asked to deliver a message to you: when you are rested, you are to return home to the Rising Stones, where friends will be waiting for you.”

“I am home.” Allie insisted, and caught his hand in the one Hilda hadn’t had in a vice grip. “And friends were waiting for me.”

Aymeric’s smile warmed as he squeezed her hand faintly.

“Always, Allie.” He let go. “May we speak again soon, in happier circumstances.”

As she watched him leave and Hilda pressed all the harder into her side, Allie couldn’t help but think of the words that haunted her from that dream, the message that crossed space and time to reach her. Couldn’t help but dwell on the fact that she was watching so dear a friend walk back into the face of death, insisting that this was not her fight, and that she had more than earned her rest. He left for that darkness that Ysayle yet fought against, while she was left to wait and heal and pray.

Convalescing idleness rarely suited her in the best of times, and these were far from those halcyon days.

Win or lose, the path you walk leads to oblivion.

“C’mon. Tataru and the lot can wait a day at least. We’re gettin’ you home.” Hilda stood up abruptly, and held her hands out for Allie to take.

“You can stop fretting over me. I’m alright.” The Paladin reminded her, even as she accepted her lover’s hands and let herself be pulled to her feet.

“I’m not fretting,” Hilda insisted again, even as her hands came to Allie’s hips to steady her lest she stumble. “Home with you now, lass. There’s blankets and jim jams waitin’ with your name on ‘em.” 

“I’m alright, really—”

“Allie.”

She froze at Hilda’s tone: low, firm, but splintering like firewood against an axe blade. Even in the cursory glances she had allowed herself as Aymeric had brought her up to speed, it had been clear how affected Hilda had been by what happened, but really taking her in with nothing else important to distract her highlighted how much Hilda was trying to put on a brave face for her. The near constant, worried upturn of her brow, the thin line she had set her lips in to try and keep herself together, the ever so faint tremble in her hands when she wasn’t moving, all of it spoke of how deeply this dark turn of events had rattled the otherwise unflappable Captain.

She needed for them to be home just as much as Allie did. If the Paladin couldn’t justify going home and resting for herself, she could always do it for Hilda. There was very, very little she would not do for her. 

When Hilda spoke again, it was soft, the words half choked back with her unshed tears, “Let’s go home. Just for tonight.”

The better path leads you here.

“With blankets and jim jams.” Allie acquiesced, and leaned forward to gently rub her nose against Hilda’s. “And you.”

“You’ve always got me, silly.” Hilda sniffed, and let her away from the chirurgeon’s ward toward the lift. 

Toward home.

Edmont had caught them outside the lift, and though he was no less fatherly in his concern and relief both, he ushered them both toward the door the moment Hilda mentioned they were heading home. It seemed all those dear to her conspired to shield her from the world, insofar as they were able. Perhaps with their combined effort, the realm could hold for a night.

The walk home was quiet, but far from cold for how closely Hilda pressed against her. Allie couldn’t help but feel like she were floating all the way to the front door— half in bliss for the intimate contact with her beloved, half out of the haze she still struggled to clear her head of. Even through that mental fog, Allie never feared something happening to them on the brief trip: there was no one in all the realm, save perhaps for Ysayle, that Allie felt safer with than with Hilda.

As Allie was ushered in ahead and Hilda took a moment to shut and bolt the door behind them, the Paladin wriggled her feet free of her boots and sucked in a deep breath. The scent of Ysayle’s flowers, well tended in her absence by what few staff came and went, filled her nose and sweetened that heady haze that yet clung to her mind. 

“House is quiet.” Allie mused aloud when she realized no one had come around at their entry.

“Must have just missed ‘em.” Hilda replied, half distracted as she worked at a buckle on her boot. 

With a grunt, the Mongrel was at last free of her shoes with one last insistent tug, and she haphazardly plopped them down next to Allie’s without a second thought. She seemed hellbent on getting Allie comfortable as fast as she possibly could, ushering her to the bedroom and pressing the plushest set of pajamas Allie owned into her hands.

“Hang on, let me help.” Hilda insisted, already working at the laces of her lover’s clothes.  

On another sort of night, Hilda might have done so with that flirtatious smirk on her face and peppered in suggestive comments and kisses alike, laughing all the while. Instead, she disrobed Allie as though she were afraid of what she would find beneath, those ruby eyes of hers darting around every scrap of skin revealed in search for a sign that Allie wasn’t as well as she said. Though the bruising that stubbornly remained on her skin made Hilda’s eyes darken with concern, she seemed satisfied enough with it to finish helping her dress and gently nudge her into bed.

Gone was that jovial optimism that had dogged the Captain, and Allie wondered how long ago it had left when she realized she couldn’t recall the last time she’d been able to be home long enough to rest. With everything that had been happening with the Scions, and the headaches, and that voice from beyond the rift calling, reaching out to her, she’d gone and gotten tunnel vision. Ysayle had been no less busy, eagerly assisting in Ala Mhigo to hold off the Imperials.

And that had left Hilda to stay behind and lead the Watch. To protect their home to ensure they had a home to come back to, putting on a brave face and not leaning on anyone else, most like, if Allie knew her lover even half as well as she thought she did. 

But this night was for Hilda, as much as she might argue otherwise, and the moment she had finished stoking a fire for them, Allie pulled her down to join her on the bed, ignoring the sputtering indignation from her lover.

“Hilda.” Allie said, matching that same soft, tentative tone that Hilda had given her before they had left the Congregation.

It had the same effect. Hilda stilled, lips wrapped around a word she hadn’t gotten to form, brows upturned in mild surprise. With care and reverence, Allie smoothed her hands down her sides, over the swell of her hips, and squeezed there to anchor them both. When Hilda looked a might less like she was wont to fall apart, Allie brought one of her hands up and pressed it to her own cheek. Hilda immediately molded her hand to its curve, thumb stroking along the apple of her cheekbone. Allie smiled as she leaned into the touch. After another moment, she took Hilda’s other hand and rested it over her heart.

“I’m here.” Allie said, and kept her voice soft. “It’s...it’s okay to not be tough right now.”

The smile Hilda gave her reminded her of broken glass. Those eyes shimmered faintly again, too bright and overfull with tears, but when Allie moved a hand up to brush her tears away, her smile eased into something gentler. With a quiet sniffle, Hilda melted against Allie, pressed every ilm of herself against her lounging lover, and softly rubbed their noses together. 

“Hey, you know me.” Hilda murmured. A laugh, watery but genuine, bubbled up in her throat. “I’m no good with talking. S’Ysayle’s whole bit, innit?”

“She is better at it than the both of us.” Allie readily admitted with an affectionate squeeze to bring Hilda those scant ilms closer.

“And...and I know we both have things we need to talk about. I don’t have to be Ysayle to know that. And we will talk about it all, I promise, but…”

With a huff, Hilda deflated entirely, head falling into the crook of Allie’s neck. Any attempt to look at her was met with her burrowing into the pillow.

“S’not the same without her. She has all the words, and I don’t know how to find any of ‘em. And I don’t want to start looking when she’s not home. We should all be here.” Hilda said half into the pillows.

Even if she insisted that she didn’t have the words, Allie could hear the emotion behind them, the bitterness, the frustration, and it was all the Paladin could do to hold her closer and lament the unfair hand fate dealt them. Ysayle should be here, warm and happy and safe, and the Scions should be awake and safe, and Allie shouldn’t have to leave Hilda tomorrow to go and fix the world again, and the three of them should just be safe but they weren’t and that wasn’t fair to any of them.

“I’m s—”

Sorry, Allie had wanted to say, but Hilda pulled back enough to kiss her quiet. Despite not having a talent for words, Hilda’s mouth was no less clever for it, and she took her time in properly kissing her lover until Allie was soft and pliant and utterly senseless in her arms. Once Hilda decided she had made her point, she pulled away to sit properly in Allie’s lap. Her hips fit perfectly in Allie’s hands, and it took nothing for her to mold her grip flush against them. Gone were the tears, and though it wasn’t near so energetic as it could have been, there was a playful smile on Hilda’s face.

“No words, right? Not while Ysayle’s not home.” Hilda chided. “Not with the big stuff, at least. S’not fair to not include her.”

“Hilda, I’ll be gone before—”

Another kiss, pressed firmer this time. A definite, if gentle silencing.

“I know.” Hilda sighed against her lips before kissing her again, softly this time. “I know. So let’s not have those words right now. Let’s just have tonight. We can just...just be us tonight. Can’t we, Allie?”

The subtle tension that lingered in Hilda’s shoulders eased when Allie nosed at her neck to press open mouthed kisses to the warm, flushed skin there. As she melted against Allie, went all but limp atop her in a pile of contented bones, her hands slipped up Allie’s nape, soft as feathers, and came around to frame her face. Allie could feel her smile press against her cheek when she turned her head to promise against her skin, “Just us. With blankets and jim jams— which I notice you haven’t changed into.”

When Hilda laughed, it was, at last, as bright and effervescent as it should be, as Hilda deserved for it to be.

“‘Course you’d say that as soon as I get comfy.” Hilda teased with an affectionate nuzzle.

“I imagine you’d be even more comfortable out of those clothes.” Allie said without thinking.

Hilda sat up then, eyes alight with mischief and merriment, her grin wide as a coeurl’s. 

“I’d normally ask for dinner first, y’know.” She teased, even as she reluctantly slid off of the bed and rummaged around for some sleepwear of her own.

There were at least a dozen other things that were going on that threatened to pull Allie’s focus away from this moment, things that she knew, in the back of her mind, that she would have to confront on the morrow. With the dawn, she would have to leave Hilda to be strong, alone, again, until Allie could piece the realm back together.

Win or lose, the path you walk leads to oblivion.

But such concerns were for the morrow. Allie need not walk a path at all, but take refuge in the dark. Right now, she was beholden to none but the women that she loved most in the world, and made a concerted effort to focus on nothing more than how gorgeous Hilda was as she shed her clothes and slipped into her soft sleepwear. Hilda seemed to be as acutely aware of how eager the realm was to tear Allie from her, too; she took no longer to change than was necessary, didn’t put on a show of flirtatious poses or lighthearted but suggestive flirting, but instead wriggling her way back against Allie’s side before anything could wedge itself in the space between them and vault the Paladin headlong into the next big disaster.

The realm wasn’t allowed to take her. Not tonight.

Tonight, Allie sat up on the bed and held out her hands to beckon Hilda back to bed. When she accepted those outstretched hands eagerly, Allie guided her into sitting down in front of her.

“Turn around.” Allie requested softly. At Hilda’s perplexed expression, she kissed her cheek and added a demure, “Please?”

“Oh look at you, battin’ yer eyelashes at me.” 

Hilda feigned a sigh of resignation, even as she beamed like the sun and turned her back to her. Pleased, Allie, pressed a kiss behind Hilda’s ear. She took her time to carefully undo the high ponytail and side braids that Hilda always kept her ebon hair in. With each careful pass of her fingers drifting through her locks, slowly freeing more and more of them from to tumble down, Hilda eased by degrees until she was practically leaned bodily into Allie, back to chest, making very soft noises of contentment. 

“There we are.” Allie gave a pleased hum, hands now idly, almost absentmindedly drifting through Hilda’s hair in gentle, slow strokes. “Cuddle with me in the blankets?”

When Hilda laughed, it was gentle, almost relieved. She tipped her head back to peer up at her lover for a long moment before leaning up to kiss her chin. She twisted in Allie’s lap, peppering more kisses along her jaw as she brought her hands up to cup her face.

“It ain’t often I get called on by glorious heroes such as yourself.” Hilda teased, and rubbed their noses together again. Her eyes drifted closed as she asked, voice little more than a whisper, “So tell me: what did I do to deserve you?”

“Being yourself.” Allie answered with a soft and unassuming kiss.

Hilda melted into her as eagerly as Allie drew her in, and it took next to nothing for either of them to sink down into the bed, against the pillows. The surrender was so mutual and so gradual it wasn’t clear who had led and who had followed, or if they had simply fallen in together, as they were wont to do, but as they took the time to bask in one another, they both decided that the hows and the whys of them being together in that moment didn’t matter. They never had. What was important was that they were, and that was enough. It was always, always enough.

Allie swathed them both in the downy soft blankets on their bed and burrowed down into the pillows with little preamble, and made a nest with her lover. Hilda practically laid on top of her, but let out a peal of delighted laughter when Allie used her strength to roll them both over and splayed half atop her, nuzzling into her with kisses and cuddles and a hand running through her loose hair. 

“I know you need rest.” Hilda admitted around another kiss. “But—”

“But I need you. And we both need this. So let’s be together, like this, until we fall asleep,” Allie countered, kissing the tip of her nose.

The better path leads you here.

“Mmm, how long d’you suppose we can keep that up?” Hilda asked playfully, even as her hands showed no sign of slowing down their gentle caresses of what she could reach of her lover.

“Let’s find out, and just hope morning never comes, yeah?”

“Yeah.” With a hum, Hilda kissed her firmly, hands fisting in the lapels of Allie’s sleepwear to keep herself tucked close. “I rather like that challenge.”

So they stayed in their little sanctuary, where the world couldn’t touch them, swapping kisses, caresses, and murmured words of love until they couldn’t anymore and simply fell asleep, pressed close and closer still, lingering in the sanctuary of the night.

[of-the-silver-lining]

The Blue in a Sea of Grey, chapter 1 preview

I stood quietly, trying to make sense of the whirlwind howling within me.

The morning sun was streaming in, tracing shafts of pale light in the airborne dust. Candles were still lit from the family’s night vigil and burning low all around the room. Flowers surrounded the bed where his body lay in this spare bedroom of the Fortemps Manor, his form eerily silent and still in the dim light. His hands were folded neatly over the cloth that covered the hole in his chest. His face, now clean of blood and grime, was frozen in time in an expression of serenity and content.

My life was different now; I felt even the past was rewriting itself. There was a story written between the lines that I had never bothered to see—his story. I was such a fool, so lost and oblivious. So self-centered and uncaring, just the same as I had always been. I saw it now. Only now, when it was too late.

Haurchefant. I remembered when I had left Ishgard for the journey that would end in the slaying of Nidhogg, at the behest of Alphinaud, with the blessing of Ser Aymeric, and the help of the Azure Dragoon. I’d seen Haurchefant that morning in the distance, but barely noticed. He was outside leaning on the railing in the cold and gazing out over the city and the mountains with a steaming mug in his hands. I was leaving the manor for Foundation, preoccupied with thoughts of the Ishgardian-Dravanian conflict, and eager to meet Estinien and Alphinaud and set out. Our plan was to find Lady Iceheart, and try to better understand and come to an end to the conflict between dragon and man. We had left Falcon’s Nest, heading out into the frozen wilds of the western highlands.

Alphinaud and I had talked a little, with an occasional word from Estinien.

“I am surprised that Lord Haurchefant did not wish to join us,” Alphinaud had said lightheartedly, “Of course I’m sure he has not the time to spare for such an endeavor, as he has other responsibilities likely in need of attending, but even so, generally his… eagerness to help is most irrepressible.”

Haurchefant. A twinge of guilt went through me when I realized I had forgotten about him.

“Perhaps he offered and you were obliged to decline?” said Alphinaud.

“I… don’t think I told him,” I said.

The boy turned to me in surprise. “You told him naught of our journey at all? Did you not bid farewell to him?”

Alphinaud had asked before we left if I had finished my goodbyes. At his suggestion, we had been to see Tataru, and that he meant any others simply hadn’t crossed my mind.

“I forgot,” I said flatly.

Alphinaud struggled to hide the mildly troubled look from his face. For a moment I thought he would fall to silence and let it go, but after a pause he smiled a little and said, “You would come and go from the Waking Sands and the Rising Stones with nary a hello or goodbye. Did you think no one cared for your well-being? You cannot possibly think that of Lord Haurchefant.”

Now that he mentioned it, I knew the times he was referring to. I was so used to being on my own that the courtesies friends gave to one another had been outside my realm of thinking for a long time. “It’s not that. I didn’t think of it. I… am an adventurer,” I said, unsure how else to explain.

“I suppose Tataru will tell him,” said Alphinaud, “But he’ll always be dismayed at missing a chance to join the Warrior of Light and fight alongside her.”

“Then perhaps it’s for the best,” I said, feeling irritation rising in my defense. “Haurchefant’s duty is to House Fortemps and to Ishgard, not to me.”

Alphinaud fell silent, and for a time the only sound was the cold wind and our boots crunching through the snow.

“I’ll make it up to him,” I said softly.

Now I stood in that cold room, looking at these regrets, like tracing the trails of water droplets. What did he think, when he discovered I was gone without so much as a word? How many days was it before he resolved to return to Camp Dragonhead? What if I had said I was sorry?

“My friend, of course, you were on the verge of embarking on an important mission, and one aiming to save our fair city from the Horde at that. I’d never expect you to delay your quest to seek me out for farewells. I’d not ask such a thing.”

He’d laugh it off and say something like that; that was his way. He made excuses for me just as I made excuses for myself. All the time.

I always intended to show how grateful I was, I told myself, to find a way to repay him, but there was never a chance. After losing the very foundation I stood on in the events in Ul’dah, I was barely on my feet again when I was moving on from one challenge to the next, never with a moment’s peace to learn how to say the words I wanted to. Excuses.

He was my beloved friend. I had to mend the situation, to find a way to live up to his faith in me, and save Ishgard. I wanted my deeds to make him smile, the way he always tried to make me smile. I would exalt his memory and return his kindness tenfold. If I must say goodbye now, I would give him a promise, to fix my mistakes and bring forth a brighter future.

Hesitantly I touched his cheek and gave his forehead a gentle kiss. But he was cold, icy cold, chilling me to my very core with cold tendrils of death.

What was I thinking?

I couldn’t make him smile. If there was a brighter future, he would never know it. It was too late to repay him, to give him kind words in return, or to make him understand how much he meant to me. There was nothing I could do for him, no words I could ever say, that would ever reach him now. I couldn’t even say goodbye. My chances were gone, and nothing I did mattered now.

He was gone. It didn’t matter at all.

Finally I saw clearly, as if a fog had lifted. All the things I never said, and never did, all that could never be undone—all my drops of regret pooled and formed a sea together with this final failure. I failed to save him. This was my fault.

Before I knew it, I was on my knees with my face buried in his hair, my whole body shaking with uncontrollable sobs.

But I came back, my friend… I folded my arms around him and my hot tears spilled onto his cold cheek. Suddenly, finality was crushing me, and grief from my sea washed over me like waves. “Haurchefant,” I whispered his name out loud again and again, “Haurchefant… Haurchefant…” as if trying to call him back, though I knew how foolish that was. “I’ll make it up to you. Don’t leave me, please… my friend.”

There was no answer. I was alone in the chill of that little room, calling weakly into the thick shroud of silence.

AN: Wow, thank you for reading! This is an excerpt from chapter 1 of my in-the-works fanfiction about my Warrior of Light and Haurchefant, which has been in the works for a tragic amount of time. I hoped to have chapter 1 done and posted somewhere before 3.5 even came out, but ha, well… At this point chapter 1 is finally almost totally done, chapters 2 and 3 are in stages of editing, and chapter 4 is about half written. I was writing mostly for myself and for practice–whether or not anyone would even be interested in a story like this is beyond me, and it’s very late on top of being very centered on my character Iris–but if anyone likes long-winded, slow-moving things and finds it fine to wallow in my character’s grief-stricken Heavensward state of mind for 3 chapters, or has a character whose story was similar and wants to place them in it, please look forward to it!

The title is inspired by lyrics from Adriana Figueroa’s Wanderer’s Lullaby.