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After tracing the pattern of snowflake #56 that had found itself blown against the window of her room, Hapi finally stood up from her chair. She’d made a game of it since she was stuck here, tracing the intricate designs of the snowflakes with her finger before the heat from the fireplace made the glass warm enough to melt them. As she stood she stretched her stiff limbs, careful not to sigh and make this day even worse.
She made her way from her room and into the hallway, passing by other closed doors before reaching the top of the stairs. She could already hear her coachman, Mason, guffawing. When she’d left him in the lounge to retire to her own room he’d already had a flagon of ale in his hand. And, judging by the increase in volume, it hadn’t been his last. She found him swaying back and forth near the lounge’s fireplace, dancing to some tune only he could hear and spilling the contents of his flagon with almost each step.
Hapi approached the bar, sliding a couple of coins on the counter and pushing them toward the innkeep. “I’d like an ale, too.”
The old woman laughed, wrinkles carving delicate lines into her face as she poured Hapi a drink. “Trying to get like your friend there?”
Hapi looked back and grimaced. “Not at all.” She took a long sip before continuing. “Now I’m just thinking he made up that whole story about the snowstorm so he could take a break and get drunk.”
The innkeep’s smile dimmed a bit. “Hm, I don’t think so… It’s not too bad now, but I wouldn’t risk it.”
“See little lady, I wasn’t lying to you!” Mason said, collapsing into the seat next to Hapi. “Might ash well enjoy yourshelf, don’t know how long we’ll be cooped up in here! Fill me up, again, Marna!” The innkeep shook her head ruefully but obliged him.
“I think I’ll go enjoy myself on the porch and see how strong this storm really is,” Hapi said as she slipped from her chair and headed toward the door. She grabbed her fur cloak from the coat rack, wrapping it around herself before pushing the door open.
Immediately the chill enveloped her, any early inebriating effects from the alcohol completely masked by the cold air that sharpened her senses. But it wasn’t the slap of chill air that made her frown; it was the languidly floating snowflakes that Mason had the gall to call a snowstorm that really upset her.
She was preparing to turn around and return to the inn when the whinny of horses caught her ears. It wasn’t Mason’s pair, who were currently taking refuge in the inn’s barn. The sound had come from the opposite end of the property, from the direction of the small road that wound its way through the outlying forest. Hapi turned around and made her way to the end of the porch, curling her fingers around one of the wooden columns that supported the structure. The bellow of the horses grew louder and louder until Hapi could see a carriage emerging from the wood. It slowed to a halt in front of the inn.
“Do you have any more space for three travelers tonight, ma’am?” the coachmen asked, his nose and cheeks reddened from the chill air.
Hapi brought her hands to her hips. But before she could let loose a retort, the carriage door slid open and a tall man emerged from it. “I doubt she’s the owner, Allen.”
Hapi stepped forward, making sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her. “Dedue! What are you doing here?”
“We decided to stop here to wait out the weather,” Dedue replied. He turned around to face the carriage, leaning in to grab his luggage from the seat.
“Oh, please allow me, milord!” Allen said, scurrying over to Dedue’s side. But Dedue had already grabbed both of his bags, hoisting them like they weighed nothing. The bags looked to be about her own size, easily.
“That’s quite alright. You and Colette can go get checked in with the innkeeper.” Dedue looked up to where Hapi stood on the porch. “I’ll join you later after I talk with Hapi for a bit.”
Allen nodded, loosing some of the snowflakes that found themselves caught in his dark beard. He walked around the side of the carriage and opened the door. A redheaded girl stepped out as Allen took her bags. The girl nodded nervously at Hapi as she made her way up the porch stairs, her pigtails bouncing with each step. Allen trailed behind her carrying their luggage. As he passed by Hapi he apologized for the earlier miscommunication, but she simply waved him inside.
“So, milord, where were you and your traveling companions headed?” Hapi asked as the pair disappeared into the inn. Dedue climbed the last few steps and placed his bags gently on the porch. The wood creaked in response, making Hapi wonder if the bags actually weighed more than she did.
He leaned against the porch’s bannister, brushing off the snowflakes that had collected there before resting his arms against it. “Well, I actually met Allen and Colette on my return trip.”
“A return trip?” Hapi prodded.
Dedue nodded. “I needed a ride back and they just so happened to be heading to Fhirdiad. Colette is starting at the School of Sorcery in a few weeks.”
Hapi chuckled. “So you somehow found Annie’s long lost sister on the way, huh?”
Dedue hummed. “I thought the exact same thing.”
“Kind of a shame to interrupt the trip over this little snowstorm, though. You’d make better time if you kept going.” Hapi kicked absentmindedly at the snow caught in between the bannister’s posts, sending the small pile tumbling into the garden below.
Dedue watched her for a moment before his eyes rose to the sky. “I’m not so sure. I’ve dealt with a few storms like this before. It’s better to avoid the roads for now.”
Hapi snorted. “For a few snowflakes?”
“For a few snowflakes that are already building another pile at your feet? I wouldn’t risk it.”
Hapi looked down, her eyes confirming Dedue’s words. Her knee twitched as she resisted the urge to kick the pile again.
Dedue shifted his weight, leaning against the bannister and receiving soft creaks in response. “But I’m sure you’ve dealt with more challenging setbacks than this before on your travels.”
Hapi raised an eyebrow. “What do you know about my trips?”
“Word travels fast when a former general goes off to foreign lands. Morfis and Dagda?”
“And here I thought that retirement meant that I wouldn’t have anyone watching my every move,” Hapi replied, folding her arms.
“My apologies, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“No, I’m fine,” Hapi responded, contenting herself by pressing her foot into the fresh pile of snow before her feet. The pile crumpled as it shifted to accommodate her foot. Eventually the delayed chill began to tickle her skin through her boots, pants, and leggings, the sensation distracting her enough to shift her focus from the twitching vein above her eye. She continued to twist her foot in the pile until she could no longer hear the satisfying crunch. “Nothing like this in Dagda. But if you replace this snow with sand then you’ve got Morfis.”
Dedue frowned. “I can only imagine that was worse, then.”
“At least it wasn’t cold.”
“I’d much prefer the snow; it melts on its own. But sand has a tendency to stick around much longer than you’d like it to.”
Hapi smirked. “What are you still trying to get sand out of, milor—?”
“Boots that I wore during one of our campaigns.”
Hapi rolled her eyes. “You could’ve at least made up a fun lie.”
Dedue held out his hand and caught a snowflake in his palm before turning to face Hapi. “Not much of a fan of lies.”
“How proper,” Hapi replied before kicking the pile of snow at her feet.
“So, did you at least find what you were looking for there? In Morfis and Dagda?”
“Wasn’t looking for anything. Just wanted to stretch my legs and leave Fódlan for a while.”
Dedue cleared his throat. “Well, are you leaving Fódlan again for this trip?”
Hapi shook her head before pointing a finger at Dedue. “Nope, not answering any more of your questions until you answer mine completely, milord. Where did you go on your trip?”
Dedue leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “I was visiting Duscur.”
Hapi shifted her weight as she leaned against the bannister, the words she planned to say caught in her throat. She brought her hands together, rubbing them but failing to make them any warmer.
Of course Dedue was the first to find his voice again. “Have you been back to your own home yet?”
“On my way back for the first time now.”
Dedue looked at her from the corner of his eye. “I see.”
Hapi buried her hands in the pockets of her cloak, turning her attention to the drifting snowflakes.
“This was my fifth journey back home,” Dedue said, breaking the silence.
Hapi looked down, carving patterns with her fingernail in the snow that collected on the bannister. “The war’s been over for almost a decade. Why only five times?”
Dedue sighed. “There was a lot of planning that needed to be done. And it was chaos across the entire continent for the first few years after the war.”
“Wouldn’t it have been better to go back sooner?”
“I wanted to, of course, but the situation was…delicate. I didn’t want to make it worse, especially not for everyone who’d already gone back to rebuild our home.”
He was so confident. So sure. He didn’t stumble or stutter over the word ‘home.’ He could easily let the words slip from his mouth as he continued to tell his tale. He hadn’t run off to Dagda or Morfis. He hadn’t failed to become someone else in those foreign lands, hadn’t been pulled back to this country by the very village he’d initially run away from. Instead he’d stayed here the whole time, planning and rebuilding so his people got the justice they needed, even if that job kept him from returning in person for years.
But for all he did right he didn’t seem to notice the way her jaw had tightened, or the way her hands had balled themselves into fists on the bannister.
Hapi reached out, taking his hand in hers. He stopped talking, bending his neck to look down at her.
“For the cold,” Hapi gave as an answer.
Dedue raised an eyebrow.
“Look if you’re going to tell me your life story while it’s freezing out here, at the very least you could keep me warm.”
“I…guess that’s fair,” Dedue replied. Infuriatingly he hadn’t even jumped at the sudden touch, instead continuing with his story as if no interruption had occurred. “The first trip was more difficult than this one. Some didn’t trust me. Not with this.” With his free hand he pointed to the crest he wore, marking him as a knight of Faerghus. “I didn’t expect it to be easy, I didn’t expect to be welcomed back home.” He smiled. “But in time, I was. Now I can’t leave without a bag full of farewell gifts.”
“Oh, is that what you have in those bags?”
Dedue chuckled, his fingers curling up around Hapi’s. And his damn hand had the gall to be warm. “There are others still living in Fhirdiad. I like to bring a piece of home back for them, too.”
“I get why it makes sense for you to stay, but why wouldn’t they leave the place that’s caused so much harm?”
Dedue squeezed her fingers. “I think it’s a little more complicated than that.”
Hapi squeezed back tighter. “You said that you were worried about going back home initially. About making everything worse…”
Dedue didn’t answer immediately, somehow sensing that Hapi had more to say. And Hapi was thankful for it now. She needed those few moments of silence to process the tears that started to make their way down her face, to loosen the tight grip that encircled her throat before she could ask her last question.
She interlocked their fingers.
“When did you know that you were ready to go back?”
Dedue took some time to answer. “When I knew that I could no longer live without going back, no matter what would be waiting for me there.” He punctuated his words with a light squeeze of her hand.
And it was the only right answer, the tight feeling in her chest proved it.
Hapi turned to face him, their eyes meeting. He unlocked their fingers then, but only to wrap his arms around her. Hapi returned the embrace, resting her head against his chest. She felt the rhythmic beating of his heart, but it was moving fast, faster than she would have guessed based on how confident each of his answers were. So when he buried her face in her hair not too long after and Hapi could feel the shakiness of his breathing, the way he tried to catch his sobs before they escaped him, she just squeezed back tighter.
Eventually they both pulled back. Hapi couldn’t tell how long they’d stayed like that, but when the chill air began to fill in the space between them, she thought it hadn’t been long enough.
“I…hope this was helpful. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
Hapi shook her head, wiping away a stray tear. Then she closed the space between them again, standing on the tips of her toes to brush a kiss against his cheek. “Not at all. Thank you, Dedue.”
He leaned down, brushing her hair away from her face before softly pressing his lips against her forehead. “I’m glad I could help.”
She smiled, turning to look out over the field. But before long she felt an arm settle over her shoulders, pulling her in closer.
She looked up at Dedue, eyebrow raised in question.
“For the cold, of course,” he answered, a smile playing at his lips. Hapi let out a soft laugh, leaning into his embrace.
She looked out across the field, now completely covered in snow. Star-shaped snowflakes danced in the night sky before falling and joining their companions on the ground. But now Hapi could only smile as she watched their dance, the weight of anxiety that had been building on her shoulders replaced by the warm arm wrapped around her.