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She hadn’t thought much about her soulmate during her life. It had been easy enough to eliminate all the usual suspects - no one else in her tribe felt that warmth upon their face during the rainy season, like the faintest kiss of sunshine. She had been perhaps fifteen summers at the time. It made her worry she would never meet her soulmate. The adults said it happened from time to time. Well, they’d heard a rumor about a man in a nearby settlement, two, perhaps three, generations ago... She tried to hide her disappointment, or maybe it was sometimes shame. Being the odd one out did tend to bring up that simmering emotion, warranted or not. But it hadn’t worked. Eventually she left, in part to avoid the looks full of pity. When she’d come of age, she’d gone to Eorzea and mostly forgotten her soul even had a match.
After the Calamity, she’d been struck with chills from time to time. She swore they must have been sitting in freezing waters. To what end, she believed she would never know. Every time she shivered in the warm Thanalan air, the idea of looking for her match was raised again. She tried to ignore it. She was working for the Scions now. A good number of them didn’t know their soulmates. Of course many people - many people’s soulmates - died in the Calamity, but not all. Papalymo once said he didn’t want to pull his match into the unavoidable danger of their job. Other Scions cited a lack of time, the beast tribes and their primals were ever restless. And some (Y’Shtola in particular) didn’t seem to care about the concept at all. If she met her soulmate, she had always assumed she’d realize it was them right away, or pretty soon after.
In the snowy lands of Coerthas, she swore frost was forming at the ends of her dark horns. Alphinaud said the claim was absurd. The damp cold wormed its way to the bone, made a home there. And no amount of sitting by the fire in the Observatorium could dislodge it. The overall difficulty to receive any aid in their search for the Enterprise did little to place the journey in the realm of pleasant. And of course she was pulled into a conspiracy about heretics and the zealous inquisition, just her luck. It wasn’t that she felt nothing for the poor, young Francel, but she was coming to the end of her patience.
No sparks flew when she met Lord Haurchefant of House Fortemps. He was tall, but that alone could hardly be considered different, especially with her short stature. He was rather handsome too, but she was getting distracted. She had work to do. Throughout the course of their cooperation nothing felt different, nothing felt special. He was by far the friendliest and most helpful Ishgardian she’d met - which went a long way to lift her spirits - but otherwise he seemed like every other remarkable person she’d seen on her journey. An ally, perhaps someday a friend, but unlikely anything more. She greatly appreciated his hospitality though. And for the first time since entering this snowy country, she felt a bit less cold.
Over the following months, she popped in at Camp Dragonhead whenever she was in the area (and time allowed). It seemed the only place she could feel truly warm in this frozen country. Sometimes she helped him train recruits. Other times he helped her feel alive - people were starting to see her as a powerful weapon before seeing her as a person, but never him. It was refreshing. They would chat over mulled wine - what she’d been assigned, his duties around Camp Dragonhead, the latest gossip, nothing very long. On occasion, mainly when she spent the evening at the camp, she swore it felt as though she was drinking a warm beverage, a warmth blooming from within. Haurchefant had once said, “A warm hearth and a warmer welcome shall be waiting for you,” when she had visited for official business, and she must admit it had always been true.
She thought of those words when she went to him for refuge after the disaster in Ul’dah and thankfully they still held true. That first night at Camp Dragonhead was one of the longest she thought she’d ever live through. She sat in the Intercessory, slowly sipping her hot chocolate as it cooled. Alphinaud and Tataru had gone to bed bells ago. She should as well - the fire was dying and her mug was now empty - but something was keeping her there.
“Is aught troubling you, my friend?” Haurchefant asked as he noticed her small form hunched in a chair by the fire. He had come to collect the empty mugs, expecting the room to be empty.
“Besides the fact I am wrongly accused of assassinating the Sultana? We were friends, you know,” she scoffed. "No, my mind was simply wandering.”
He brought a chair up next to her and sat down. “I would hear your thoughts regardless.”
“It’s silly.” She shook her head. “But my thoughts drifted to soulmates - I’ve always imagined mine must live someplace like this, someplace cold.”
“Perchance you will find them during your stay.” Haurchefant smiled widely.
“No. I think not. Even without the recent disaster, I think I am done with soulmates.” She swore something in her chest was being squeezed as she continued, “I’d hate to lead them into danger. Besides, I've lived without them for years. I think I can manage it for the rest of my life." Her mouth curved into a small smile, but the creases around her eyes revealed a hidden bitterness.
“A pity. They may be closer than you realize.”
He hadn’t realized immediately she was his soulmate. It hadn’t taken long though, shortly before her fight with Shiva to be exact. He had meant to tell her posthaste, except she had gotten busy, her social calls turning into official business. He’d thought to tell her that night if she had seemed up for it - a bit of good news after so much bad. But then she’d said that.
It did little to dissuade Haurchefant from providing any assistance he was able however. A quick explanation of the remaining Scions’ situation convinced his father to take them as wards of the house.
“You describe this Warrior of Light as ‘Hope Incarnate’?” the Count looked at his son skeptically.
“Indeed. Although she means much and more to me,” the knight looked away bashfully.
Count Fortemps merely gave his son a knowing smile, “Then their entry into Ishgard will be approved posthaste.”
Once within Ishgard's walls, the warrior started missing Haurchefant. She greatly appreciated being the Count’s ward, but she felt misplaced. Outside the Fortemps Manor, her horns, tail, and scales brought fear and malice - too reminiscent of their enemies. Inside the manor, Count Edmond was busy while Artoirel and Emmanellain ignored her for the most part. She wished for Haurchefant’s warm conversation. The halls of the manor felt lonely and cold, nowhere near as warm as the Camp Dragonhead hearth, even though the manor most certainly had better heating.
Thus, she was overjoyed when Haurchefant came to assist her in the Sea of Clouds. It was the first time she had seen him since her first night in the city. Although there wasn’t the time to show her happiness, between the increasing number of attacking Vanu Vanu and protecting the cowering Emmanellain. Luckily Cid had showed up at the last moment to spirit them to safety. She felt the strangest feeling before Haurchefant landed in front of her on the Enterprise, perhaps a swoon. She’d never swooned before, so she couldn’t be sure. All she knew was for a second, it felt as though she might not be standing on anything at all. She couldn’t help but look away, a slight blush in her cheeks as they rode back to Camp Cloudtop. She swore she could feel him watching her the entire way.
After concluding her business at camp, Haurchefant called to her. “All’s well that ends well, eh? To the airship landing then! We can speak on the journey home.”
Except they didn’t speak… She hid in her silent persona, her heart pounding the entire time. Poor Haurchefant was obviously confused, but he didn’t push her for an explanation.
At the Airship docks in Ishgard, they stood in awkward silence, until the knight broke it.
“I confess, I have always been rather fond of airship travel. The chill of the wind upon your face, the warmth of the blood pumping in your veins from the excitement…! I find the whole experience indescribably invigorating! Or mayhap it is simply the joy of having cheated death yet again! Ha ha! In any event, I must make for the Congregation and inform Ser Aymeric of all that has occurred. Emmanellain should have returned to the manor by now. Why not go and see if he has recovered from his ordeal?”
She nodded silently as he walked off, berating herself for getting so tongue-tied.
Taking advantage of trial by combat had been his idea, the only logical one, but still his idea. And Ser Grinnaux’s face when the Xaela entered the ring as Tataru’s champion was as he had said, priceless. She was undoubtedly more than a match for these two of the Heavens’ Ward, but as he stood next to his father, he couldn’t help his worrying. He tried to keep calm for her sake, giving the occasional cheer when he noticed her falter or hesitate. Although more often than not, he felt it before he saw it.
Afterwards, in his joy, he gave her his most prized possession, the chocobo whistle. It called a chocobo he had raised and trained himself, his favorite to be precise. Yet the moment he saw the look of wonder on the warrior’s face as the chocobo walked into the Tribunal, he knew he’d never regret that decision.
Being called back to Ishgard after freeing Raubahn worried her. Deep down she felt something was wrong, her heart felt as though it were racing. And of course, she was right. She entered the Fortemps Manor to see the Count and all three of his sons speaking in hushed, but urgent voices. Once apprised of the situation, she had volunteered to stay and fight. But Alphinaud had other plans, smarter plans.
She wished to speak with Haurchefant, at least before they departed, but to no avail. It had been so very long since she had been able to sit and have a proper conversation with the knight, not since before the incident with the Sultana. What Ilberd said about being used had upset her in a way she doubted anything but a nice warm mug of hot chocolate with Haurchefant could help soothe.
She continued to feel the lack of his presence during her travels in Dravania. She couldn’t help but wish for Haurchefant’s more amiable attitude when Estinien and Ysayle bickered. It felt endless. Alphinaud’s numerous attempts to stop them were an exercise in futility, he was still but a boy after all. Perhaps Haurchefant could have made his fellow elezen simmer down, at least for a few moments. If not that, then at least she’d have someone to commiserate with.
And she wondered how Haurchefant would react to all she was seeing. She wondered what Haurchefant might say to the peaceful dragons like Vidofnir and her brood. Would he find the moogles in Moghome cute? Would conversations around the campfire be as cozy as those at Camp Dragonhead?
She had hoped to see Haurchefant on her return to Ishgard. In fact, she planned to search him out after seeing Cid about the manacutter. But of course fate had to choose that exact moment for Tataru to bust in with news about the Sultana. Speaking with her dear friend would have to wait.
He heard about her departure from Ishgard at his desk at Camp Dragonhead. She was heading off with Alphinaud and the Azure Dragoon to bide time while Ishgard tried to prepare for Nidhogg’s rage. That was all anyone seemed to know. He was left to sit and wait. It was absolutely infuriating. He could feel her in combat at times. Where ever she was, it was dangerous. And thus he was condemned to wonder at her fate. At least before he had known where she was (even if six knights had prevented him from rushing to her side). This time, he didn’t even know how to reach her. He had called waiting for news on Shiva a veritable eternity. He could not even begin to describe this.
Making it all the more unbearable was a sliver of jealousy, like a shard of glass in the finger - invisible, yet clearly there. The Azure Dragoon, one of the best fighters in Ishgard, was her travel companion. Haurchefant knew there must be a multitude of reasons Estinien was more qualified for this job than he. Yet he could not help himself from asking why not him. And perhaps she preferred the taciturn man’s company. The thought haunted him till the wee bells of the morning.
When she finally, finally showed her face at Camp Dragonhead again - just popping in on her way from Mor Dhona to Ishgard she had said - she was distracted. She still didn’t say a word about her long absence or what happened. He could hardly ask why he had felt her in combat or what that mysterious fuzzy sensation had been, not without revealing the soulmate connection she seemed to ignore - or perhaps she did not feel it at all. No sooner had she finished speaking of her business in Mor Dhona had her linkpearl rung. The Azure Dragoon expected her arrival in Ishgard promptly. Haurchefant suppressed the urge to delay her, keep her in his presence just a moment longer.
He had so much to ask, to tell, but as she turned and left, he put all his feelings into a single sentence, “But remember, no matter how far you may roam, you may ever consider this place your home.” He could only hope she heard as she made her way back out into the Coerthan cold.
The next time he saw her, Ishgard was in turmoil, and she was standing next to a blood-covered Azure Dragoon as well as the heretic, Lady Iceheart. He supposed this was partially why she had been so secretive of her exploits; it still hurt though. Was there such a lack of trust between them? However, that would have to wait till after the heretics left the city.
The walk back to the Fortemps Manor had started in awkward silence. But it melted away quickly as they absorbed the surrounding atmosphere. They were walking through the Jeweled Crozier. The city lights reflected off minuscule flakes of snow floating by, making the air itself seem to shimmer. It seemed a vision out of a novel. She caught Haurchefant’s eye and felt a heartbeat alongside her own. It caused hers to flutter. He smiled and offered her his arm. She gladly accepted. They walked slowly, appreciating the peaceful night around them. She hoped it would be the first of many, many more.
As they approached The Last Vigil, Haurchefant stopped and broke their silence. “You once said you did not wish to find your soulmate. But what if your soulmate found you?”
“I had not thought of that. I suppose perhaps I would reassess my views, it would depend on the person.” She looked at the elezen with a small smile. “Were they an adventurer, or even simply well versed in combat, like myself-” she cut herself off as she noticed a figure running towards them.
When the figure reached them - a knight from House Fortemps - they announced, “The Lord Commander and the Azure Dragoon await your arrival.”
“I am certain we can continue this conversation later,” Haurchefant smiled as they followed the knight to the manor. “With the war now finished, we have all the time in the world.”
“Have no fear, Father! My arm will not falter; my shield will not break. I promise you: we shall prevail!” As Haurchefant soothed his father, he noticed the Xaela leave to find their new recruits. He wished to speak with her posthaste about what she had said earlier, but now was not the time.
After finishing his preparations for their assault of the Vault, he went in search of her. As fate would have it, she was easily found, what with the mob of knights fighting her in the middle of the street. He noticed a member of the Heavens’ Ward as well. Why was he not surprised. It just meant there was no more time to wait. They must go infiltrate the Vault now.
Their motley group stood at the doors of the Vault. It was decided. The party would be split, but Haurchefant was not worried. Before entering however, he pulled his cherished friend to the side. “I have aught I wish to tell you after this endeavor is concluded. Stay safe, my friend.”
“The same to you,” she smiled warmly at him as she rushed into the building.
With the vaunted Warrior of Light and her friends causing havoc upstairs, finding and freeing Aymeric had been a cakewalk.
The group of them stood at the airship landing, the Archbishop in front of them, ready to flee. Haurchefant looked to her and nodded. They both knew what to do and the two of them began running towards the airship. They would not let the Archbishop escape.
But then he heard a whizzing. “Look out!” He ran to her and put his shield up just in time to make contact with the bolt of light flying towards them through the sunset sky. Perhaps there had been time for both of them to have dodged, but he would not, could not, take that chance. Not only was she vitally important to the well-being of the realm, but a world without her was not one he wished to live in.
She whirled around and when she did, she felt an enormous pressure on her left forearm. She looked to her arm and then to him, eyes widening. It couldn't be... Her soulmate, the knight standing before her? But he had always been so close. It would have been much more obvious, right?
And then a crunch of metal, followed by a deafening crack, followed by an extreme pain in her abdomen as he fell backwards, landing at her feet, a mysterious glow emanating from the wound in his gut. Her legs gave out beneath her and everything else fell away.
Distantly, she heard an airship departing and someone, she didn’t care who, yelled.
“You… you are unharmed? F-Forgive me… I could not bear the thought of… of…” Haurchefant spoke quietly through bloody lips. He lifted a hand, which she immediately grabbed, tears threatening to spill out of her eyes.
“Oh, do not look at me so. A smile better suits a hero…” he rasped. She gave him the best watery smile she could muster, and he smiled back for a mere moment before going limp in Aymeric’s arms. The smile was softer than any she had seen from him before, more full of regret and of longing, but also of love.
As Haurchefant closed his eyes, she felt a chill descend upon her, then nothing. And then she screamed, the anguish drowning out anything she might have been saying. She stayed there for hours. No attempt could be made to move her or him. When she’d finally come back to her senses, the world felt less vivid, and she felt incomplete. Someone told her to go to the Fortemps Manor, she didn’t remember who. She barely remembered the walk back.
“A knight lives to serve, To protect. To sacrifice. There is no greater calling. Leave me to morn, and give chase. For my son, and for the nation he loved. Go,” Count Edmond ordered. She thought she had no more tears left, but she cried silently as the count sank to the floor in his own grief.
Over the following weeks, the Warrior of Light grieved. She was completely unresponsive, nothing seemed to affect her. She would only eat if someone pushed the food into her hands, only sleep when she was on the brink of collapsing. Alphinaud worried about her, speaking in hushed tones with a variety of their allies when he thought she couldn’t hear them. She could, but she didn’t care. Simply visiting Camp Dragonhead brought back too many memories for her to bear. Even the mere mention of her beloved knight could send her into tears for hours.
A few days after her battle with the Archbishop, Alphinaud and Tataru met her on a bluff overlooking the city. The weather was surprisingly clear and bright, yet so reminiscent of their late friend's personality. Alphinaud mused that perhaps it was the result of said friend's presence among them. He was full glad to see the Warrior of Light giving a small smile as she placed the pierced shield upon the headstone.
“Come, let us away to warmer places,” Alphinaud said as he and Tataru turned to leave. What he wouldn't do for a nice warm drink right now.
“I shall stay a bit longer I think,” the Xaela looked at them sadly. “I haven’t felt warmth since his death regardless.”
She always made time to visit Haurchefant’s grave overlooking Ishgard, but barely went to visit the city proper. Eventually the sorrow became a bit less sharp, but she was never the same. Her senses were forever muted, she never felt whole again, and she always felt a chill in the air.