#haurchefant simps asap

[nadana-vhet]

Hot Chocolate

WoL: Ahmi Vhelo, Keeper of the Moon Miqo’te

Pairing: WoL x Haurchefant Greystone

“Ah, there you are!” A familiar voice boomed behind her, confident and warm as it grew louder as he approached.

Ahmi turned her head to see Haurchefant, dressed in more casual attire as the night wound down and Camp Dragonhead slowly became still. She hummed a greeting towards him, not speaking for a moment as she had just popped a handful of Coerthan berries into her mouth. “You were looking for me - Is aught amiss?” She asked, concerned, after she swallowed. She dangled her legs over the balustrade that overlooked the camp, the highest point that she could climb without directly scaling the tall tower atop the main building. Since coming to Camp Dragonhead in search of the Enterprise, she found herself up here a lot. She enjoyed the calm of watching from above, as if nothing could touch or ground her as she let her thoughts wander.

“Oh, no.” Haurchefant shook his head, patting her blanketed shoulder in comfort. “All is well tonight, my friend, especially now that I have found you! I simply wished to chat with you, ‘tis all.” He winked, sitting next to her and reaching over to pluck a berry from her hand. She rolled her eyes at him playfully, which only led to a warm chuckle from the flirtatious elezen.

She relaxed her shoulders at the relief of knowing she wasn’t needed for something daring, for once. Her hand shifted, allowing the pouch of berries to sit on her knee closest to him as they ate in silence for a few moments, looking up at the night sky of Corethas and watching the moon and the stars through sparse, wispy clouds. It was cold out, so she had taken the precaution of wrapping herself in a blanket, but secretly she enjoyed the slight sting of the chill on her reddened cheeks.

“You seem quite at home here, it seems. Your friend, Alphinaud, has not become accustomed nearly as well,” he chuckled, glancing over at her through his silvery bangs as he mused, “I do not believe you have ever mentioned where you hailed from?” He suddenly seemed aware of this fact, and his tone was almost a hint apologetic, as if he felt bad for not asking before.

“Gridania,” Ahmi nodded, popping another red berry into her mouth before swallowing, “I had actually never left the Twelveswood until shortly before joining the Scions.” She handed the berries over to him, signifying she was done snacking, before moving her hands to rub some warmth into the tips of her ears. “I’ll admit, though – I hate how warm it is in Thanalan. I’ll take the cold over sweating any day,” she laughed softly.

“Ah, it seems we have that in common! I also, in fact, have never left my home domain. Do you think you have room for another in your ranks? If anything at all, I could be of use assisting the Warrior of Light in reaching things in high places.” His hand hovered over the top of her head, as if to emphasize her short stature.

Ahmi attempted to feign offense, but it was hard to hide her amusement at his warmth. “Unfortunately, Urianger already fulfills the needed top-shelf-reaching quota.” For emphasis, Ahmi reached a hand above her head to mimic the action. The simple gesture made Haurchefant’s heart flutter, but for once he didn’t have a witty, flirtatious aside for her. He simply stared for a few moments until she furrowed her brows at him. Halone preserve him, she had only been here a week and he was already faltering.

“Haurchefant?” She questioned, and with his name from her lips he shook himself from his stupor.

“Hm?” He hummed before blinking, realizing his blunder as he cleared his throat. “Well, how unfortunate. I suppose I must continue my existence inside these confining walls.” Haurchefant sighed dramatically.

Ahmi chuckled, though through her amusement she shivered at the growing cold of the evening. “I assure you, Ser Haurchefant, that you will be the first to know if the Scions are in need of another such individual.”

“I look forward to it, Miss-“ Haurchefant paused, noticing the fact that the miqo’te was beginning to suffer the consequences of the harsh Corethas wind. “Never mind that, I request that you let me escort you inside before you become a frozen statue atop my camp!” he offered, turning around and standing on the stone walkway before holding out a hand to her.

“I am sure I would be quite an unsightly statue,” she grinned, taking his hand gratefully before hopping down from the balustrade.

Despite both their hands being covered by gloves, Haurchefant couldn’t help but quietly marvel at how tiny her hand felt in his. He led her inside and practically begged to continue keeping her company, using the excuse that she needed to recover from the cold before he (a most proper and diligent host) would even consider leaving her alone.

The two made pleasant conversation as he lead her through the main castle, down stairs and hallways until eventually he turned a corner to a simple sitting room, having only been recently dusted due to the arrival of the Warrior of Light and her white-haired companions. He hurried across the room to light the fireplace, begrudgingly accepting aid from the miqo’te as she handed him kindling and crouched next to him. “I insist, Miss Ahmi – rest! You must be far too cold.”

“Mm, yes, but I will warm faster if I keep moving.” Ahmi quipped back with a smile.

Haurchefant tried to argue further, but it was useless against her wits. He simply gave in and allowed her to do whatever she pleased, which he began to appreciate as he watched her delicate hands pass over the matches. He continued to notice the small details (he wasn’t sure if it was intentional or not) like her eyes watching intently for any opening to assist further, or the way her blue waves contrasted with the firelight as it flickered to life.

Haurchefant excused himself before he said something too embarrassing, and when he returned he brought a tray with two mugs and two metal kettles, one with a painted blue top, and another red. He set it down on the table in front of the fireplace and gestured towards it with a flourish. “Fortemps specialty hot chocolate – the blue lid is without alcohol, and the red one with.”

“What kind?”

“Why, rum, of course. The only proper alcohol that is allowed to go in hot chocolate, lest I show up to remedy the mistake personally.” He smiled, picking up the mug closest to him and pouring some of the alcoholic hot chocolate into his mug.

Ahmi chuckled, “You sound very passionate about your hot chocolate, Ser Greystone.” She seemed to think for a moment before picking up her mug and pouring from the non-alcoholic kettle, “I hope you are not slighted at the idea of drinking alone, but I much prefer to try out your esteemed recipe unabated, first,” she smiled at him, blowing on the liquid carefully before taking a sip. Her eyes lit up happily, humming contently into the lip of the mug. “Oh my gods, this is the most delicious thing I have ever tasted!” She threw her head back dramatically, closing her eyes as she savored the taste.

“Oh? Well, I know plenty of other things that taste better. Perhaps they even reside in this very room.” Haurchefant’s eyebrows quirked upwards, which offered another giggle from his companion.

She leaned across the table and pushed his shoulder playfully, shaking her head at him, “Are you wont to seduce every adventurer that passes through Corethas?”

“Only the pretty ones,” he corrected, brushing his hair from his face with another wicked smile.

Ahmi rolled her eyes at him, settling herself back in the cozy armchair across from him. “Mm, likely story.” she pursed her lips, but behind the glint of her grey eyes there was a surprising glimpse of mischief, despite her otherwise unassuming demeanor. He wasn’t sure if she was teasing or serious, but even so, he wasn’t quite sure of his own intentions either.

She had discarded the blanket while he was off making their beverages, the fur draped across the back of the chair, her elbows propped against its arms. She wore a a simple enough sweater and skirt combo, with the former being tucked in at the waist to flatter her full figure. It had been about a week since her and her white-haired companions brokered for his help, and he had noticed that she had quickly adapted and bought some warmer clothes from the few merchants that occasionally stopped by to sell their wares. It seemed only practical, since it was unfolding that their stay would be longer than they were expecting – especially with how it was becoming increasingly difficult to procure information about the Enterprise. He would search tirelessly, however, because the one asking this of him was so captivating.

And she vowed to help Francel, of course.

“‘Tis true! And, Camp Dragonhead does not get many adventurers, so perhaps you have been the only adventurer I have attempted to seduce,” he winked again, though there was an inkling of truth to his defense. Of course he had seduced men and women alike, but Camp Dragonhead didn’t get many adventurers, and none of them were as beautiful as her.

“Mm, now I am wondering if you came to find me just to see if you could bed me, with all this obvious flattery. How predictable, the plight of men.” Ahmi teased, her laugh like the bells of the convocation, calling forth its congregation to worship.

“My chambers are open for you any hour of the day, Miss Ahmi,” he grinned, taking another long sip of his boozy concoction. Another jest, but it was absolutely not a joke. Not in the slightest.

Ahmi blushed a little deeper under her already reddened cheeks, still adjusting to the warmth inside the walls. “You cannot expect me to come that easily, foolish man. Perhaps I will indulge you once you have given me a reason besides your boyish charms. A backstory, perhaps?” She hummed at him expectantly, holding out her mug for him as if she expected him to oblige what she was asking.

“I am simply a humble knight of Ishgard,” he bowed his head, but she certainly was not going to take that as an answer. He could talk anyone’s ear off if he so chose, and she had figured that out very quickly. She watched him expectantly, egging him to continue on.

Haurchefant obliged, but not before making her promise to divulge some of her’s in return. He spoke of all the good parts – mentioned being a bastard, of course, as it was unavoidable when she realized he did not share the Fortemps surname. Beautiful and perceptive, he noted. He skimmed over the hatred of his stepmother, of how othered he felt as a child. Instead, he spoke of how hard he trained as a knight, of silly little adventures he had inside and out of the city, and of his young self getting into all sorts of trouble.

He even recounted the tale of trying to defend a woman from some grisly man. Haurchefant had only been a mere fifteen summers at the time, his voice cracking as he valiantly told the man to unhand the lady. However, to his embarrassment, she just laughed and explained that he was just her very affectionate, very drunk husband.

“I see you have been chasing after maidens since you were a boy.” Ahmi giggled, and by that time she was on her third mug of hot chocolate. She kept it without alcohol, which he noted, as she urged him to continue his stories. She felt so blissfully comfortable to talk to, asking questions at all the right places and making him feel like she was actually interested in his silly antics, so much so that he didn’t feel guilty talking about himself as he usually did.

Finally, he told her of Francel and their friendship that he held dear. He recounted the time Francel had gotten kidnapped by bandits, and how frantic and worried he was for his friend as he tracked them down with merely a hunting knife to defend himself. He left out the grisly bits, as he knew she was experienced enough with combat to fill in the blanks. It was then he revealed that it was this deed that finally awarded him his position as a Knight of Ishgard. He was fiercely proud of his position, and Ahmi could tell.

“T’would seem that you, of all people, should deserve the position the most.” Ahmi noted, a steep compliment to Haurchefant, but she spoke it as if it were a simple fact of life. “A true knight should fight for justice and the ones he loves, and it seems you hold the standard for that code.” She smiled brightly at him, and again Haurchefant’s heart threatened to burst from his chest. He knew it was no more than a puppy crush. She was a primal slayer, after all – a beautiful, kind, delightful primal slayer. However, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was in danger of it turning into something more.

“I… thank you, my friend. I appreciate the sentiment more than you know,” he smiled at her softly before glancing down at his mug. She is going to leave, ‘ere long, Haurchefant thought to himself, she has duties to attend to, and I mine. However, that does not leave out the possibility of more casual affairs, if she so chooses…

However, by the time Haurchefant had pulled himself out of his internal musings for yet another time that night, he had found that her eyes had drifted shut, her mouth slightly agape as she slept quietly, curled up in the armchair with the mug still held in her hands, though thankfully it was empty.

When Ahmi awoke the next morning, she was curled up in her own guest chambers, the same fur blanket she had the night before draped over her. The sun shone dimly through the curtains, and though she could tell it was far later than she would have liked to have woken up, her chest filled with a pleasing warmth despite the cold and she allowed herself to rest for a few moments longer.