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Since I was young, whenever I felt upset and unable to cope with something I always sought the highest ground I could find. Sometimes it was a tree, sometimes a hill, sometimes the roof of the house I grew up in… but it was always somewhere that gave me a good vantage point. It reminded me that there were other things in life than my problems, and gave me time to think over whatever was bothering me at the time.
As an adult, this hasn’t changed much. I’ve climbed the tallest tower at Camp Dragonhead and am standing on the balcony in the lightly falling snow, oblivious to the cold. It’s odd, I think, how there can be just enough clouds to pour snow down from the heavens and yet give way to the stars… and it’s breathtakingly beautiful. Looking up at the heavens like this, it’s easy to forget the nightmare I’ve just been through, at least for a moment… or, rather, to put it in perspective.
I only realize how cold it is when something warm settles around my shoulders, and I look up in surprise to see Lord Haurchefant looking down at me worriedly. It is, I realize, his cloak that I’m wearing.
“I was wondering where you went, my friend,” he says. “One of my knights said he saw you heading up the stairs, and so this seemed a logical place to look.” He smiles, then, and looks up at the night sky. “It’s beautiful, is it not?”
I nod slowly, still gazing upward. There’s nothing like the limitless heavens to make one feel insignificant, I think, and the thought is profound enough that I give it voice. I seem to speak without thinking around him, and yet he never makes me feel foolish for it- indeed, he takes everything I say seriously. Maybe it’s because I say so little… or maybe it’s because of another reason, one I’ve barely allowed myself to consider. It’s something that occasionally comes to mind in the warmth of his chamber, whereupon leaving I tell myself I won’t return- and yet I have, several times.
He smiles and nods in agreement. “I often think the very same,” he murmurs. “Though Ishgard is a punishing country to be certain, there is a great deal of beauty to be found if one is willing to brave the elements.” We stand quietly for a moment, and then he rests a gentle hand on my shoulder. “It is, however, very cold this night. If you’re determined to stay out here longer, I’ll come back and check on you shortly lest you turn into an ice statue.”
Staying outside doesn’t sound all that appealing anymore, and I shake my head. We walk back inside together, and somehow, his hand finds mine- and I don’t let go as he leads me. There is, I think, no real reason to… especially since, in the warmth of his room, we can be much more than we are outside.
Once the door is closed, he goes to the fireplace to make sure there’s enough wood and then sets a kettle over it. “There,” he says, satisfied. “We’ll have a mug of tea- you certainly need it.” He looks at me curiously. “How long were you out there?”
I pause, thinking it over. I’d gone upstairs sometime after dinner, and the sun was down- though that didn’t really say much. The sun is only up for a few hours, it seems, and it casts a weak light that doesn’t do much to warm the air. I finally smile and shrug, settling myself next to him on the plush couch when he sits and holds a hand out to me with a smile.
“You are quite the mystery, my friend,” he muses.
I raise an eyebrow at him, and unable to resist myself, I lift a hand and lightly tap him on the nose with my forefinger. “Not to you,” I say quietly.
His blue eyes brighten and he catches my hand. “No? I think you know a great deal more about me than I know about you.”
That’s probably fair to say, I think, given that his soldiers practically worship him and talk about him constantly. I shift a little, letting the cloak fall from my shoulders, and tuck one leg under me as I turn to look at him. I wonder what he wants to know.
“Take this, for example,” he says, still holding my hand in his. He turns it over so the palm faces upward and brushes his fingertips against mine. “Your fingers are callused, speaking of one who is well-versed in the art of weaponry… as, obviously, the Warrior of Light should be. I’ve seen you fight before. Why did you start down this path?”
I blink. That’s a rather loaded question, and one I’m not entirely sure I know the answer to. Perhaps it’s because I chafed at living in a small village, or perhaps I sought refuge from a large city… or perhaps it’s because I simply wanted to see the world and got sucked into something much, much bigger than myself. I choose the latter as my answer, maybe because it sounds better, but I think it’s also more accurate. I pause, then sigh faintly. At times like this it seems difficult to answer that question because of the direction the path has turned, and though I don’t regret it, I wonder how I’m going to go forward.
He smiles and lifts my hand, pressing a warm kiss to my palm. I feel heat rush to my face, but I keep my eyes trained on his. “Don’t despair,” he says quietly. “There are many in this world who don’t believe you would do the things you’ve been accused of, myself included.”
“That’s not it,” I say, sharper than I intend. I bite my lip and look down, then look back at him. He is patient, still holding my hand, not offended in the least at my outburst- which I’m thankful for. Every time I close my eyes I see Yda and Papalymo on the other side of a grate, locked in at their own will. I see Y’shtola telling us to run, see Thancred’s roguish smile… and I see Minfilia running back after a deafening roar, claiming that she was told to do so. It isn’t hard to imagine losing him as well, and I immediately turn my face away, closing my eyes tightly.
“Look at me,” he says, his voice gentle. Slowly, reluctantly, I do- and when he sees the tears on my lashes, he reaches up and carefully wipes them away. “We’ll do everything we can to find your friends- and once we do, you will all be under my protection. It isn’t much, but I don’t often exercise my authority beyond Camp Dragonhead- and I do have some at my disposal.”
I bite my lip. “But what if you’re gone too?” I blurt out, and then bow my head again.
He immediately lets go of my hand to draw me close, and I settle against his chest, eyes closed tight. “First of all, should something happen to me, you’d be under the protection of House Fortemps regardless- my father won’t allow any harm to befall you. You will have Ser Aymeric on your side as well, which counts for a great deal.” His voice is soft and soothing as he holds me, and I slowly let myself relax. “Even should I fall, I will never leave you alone.”
The tea kettle saves me from having to reply, and I move away- though a bit reluctantly. He pours us each a mug of tea and then smiles charmingly as he retreats to the other side of his room to shed his armor, which likely isn’t all that comfortable, I think. I’d removed mine before going outside, choosing instead to dress warmly in the comfortable clothes Tataru had made for me. They are, I have to admit, rather flattering. When he returns he’s dressed in a pair of soft breeches and a tunic, and I smile when he sits back down and I lean against him again. This, I think, is very nice… and very dangerous. My smile fades as I look into the fire, and I take a sip of my tea to keep him from wondering. I can’t imagine losing him, but if I do, I’ll have to figure out a way to go on- and right now, as attached as I am, I don’t know how I’ll do it.
“You seem very troubled,” he says quietly, and I silently curse myself for not being more stoic about all of it. These are things which are better kept to myself. “You’ve already lost a great deal, I know… but for now, you need not worry about losing anything more. The life of a warrior is a dangerous one, as we all know, which is why living in the moment and rejoicing in the present is so important.”
I tip my head and peer up at him. He is tall, even for an Elezen- taller than Ser Aymeric by at least half a head. He looks down at me and smiles again, and I notice the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he does so- and, once again, I am utterly charmed. Part of me wonders, however, how many people one can see die for their cause before the ability to rejoice in much of anything is completely lost. I sigh, then smile back, deciding not to worry about it any further. He’s right, regardless of how much I’d like to believe otherwise in the moment. I pause, then lean forward and lightly brush my lips against his. “Thank you,” I say softly.
I’m sure I’ve never seen him look at someone else the way he looks at me. He gently brushes his knuckles against my cheek. “You’re more than welcome. We all need some encouragement every now and then.”
A comfortable silence falls between the two of us, and I let myself relax once more. Continuing to deny my feelings is only going to cause trouble for me, I’m sure of that much- and yet… part of me continues to fear. When my mug of tea is empty I set it on the low table in front of us, and once he finishes his, our hands find each other and our fingers twine together. In this moment, I’m more than satisfied with where we are, and I close my eyes and smile faintly. Just as the heavens themselves are limitless, so too are we, I think- and that is more than enough.