Work Text:
Astoria didn’t remember many details of their first meeting. She had been rather distracted by the massacre at the Waking Sands. The days, or it could have been weeks, following she could only vaguely recollect, as if she was peering at them through a thick fog.
All she could recall was that he was smiling and didn’t tell her to get out of his way. Then she actually looked at him and noticed that he had bright blue eyes that stood out from the endless dreary gray of Coerthas.
Astoria would see him again, Lord Haurchefant, how strangely that title sounded on her tongue.
Life settled into a norm of sorts after Operation Archon. She patrolled the zones neighboring Mor Dhona, lending her hand to knights and researchers and people who were just trying to stay alive. When she would pass by Camp Dragonhead, she would show her face and be greeted with a cheerful welcome and a warm beverage, most times cocoa, sometimes something stronger.
Her primary job, too, continued. Primals would be summoned and she would be sent to dispatch them. And following the trail of heretics and their Lady Iceheart, she forced her way into their sanctuary, dealing with their summoned deity as was her duty.
“What were you thinking, Astoria!?” Haurchefant grasped her by the shoulders on her return. It surprised her, the genuine distress in his voice. “Wagering your life on a dubious theory which might allow you to enter Iceheart’s lair? Engaging the abomination in mortal combat!?” He let out a pained sigh. “Would that I had been there to fight by your side! Yet I was condemned to wonder at the fate of a dear friend for an eternity…”
I didn’t have a choice, she did not tell him. “I’m sorry for making you worry,” she said instead. “Perhaps next time we could fight side by side.”
For a moment she felt his hands tighten, then he let them drop. “I apologize, that was unbecoming of me. You are here now, and that is what truly matters.”
Astoria peered up at him, only then registering his height from the strain in her neck. Their gaze met through the loose curtain of his silvery bangs. He smiled at her, but it did not reach his eyes, which were dark like the ocean depths without their usual twinkle.
The following days their banter felt strained. Haurchefant smiled as always, but whenever she caught him from afar he would be looking into the distance with an unreadable expression. Perhaps the heretics continue to make a nuisance of themselves. Then duty called her from snowy Coerthas to sunny Thanalan, and she wasn’t able to see him at all for a time.
Astoria was following the path to Camp Dragonhead on auto-pilot, watching to make sure Alphinaud didn’t freeze in his flimsy attire as the storm raged around them. And though she could barely see the aetheryte through the flurry of snow, she immediately perceived him by the gate. Her steps halted to a stop in front of him, yet she couldn’t find the words.
Once again, on the cusp of having lost everything. Her people. Her purpose. Her hero’s mantle. Things that mattered and things that didn’t. Not now.
“Lord Haurchefant,” she found herself saying. “I wish to ask a favor.”
“Anything,” he responded. “But first, let’s get the two of you inside and warmed up.”
The rest of the evening passed in a blur. She watched Alphinaud curl up into a ball on his bed and ran her hand over Tataru’s hair, coaxing the tearful Lalafell into uneasy slumber. Once their breaths slowed to a rhythm, she stole outside. She perched herself on a crate under the central stone archway, feeling the droplets slowly dampen her hair.
Astoria saw him approaching, the glow of his lantern before his person. Haurchefant came to stand beside her, his light illuminating her hands, which she realized were full of nail marks.
“Would you like to join me for a drink? The kitchen appears to have made mulled wine tonight.” He proffered his hand.
“That… would be much appreciated. The winds blow strong tonight.” Astoria let her sleeve fall over her hand before placing her fingers in his palm. The heat of his skin was almost painful to the touch, so accustomed had she grown to the cold. Her joints too, she noticed belatedly, no longer wished to cooperate. She stood there for a moment, struggling to regain her faculties.
Then she noticed that Haurchefant was much closer than before, his body shielding her from the blizzard. “Please forgive this breach of etiquette,” he whispered, before pulling her into his arms.
Enveloped in his warmth, Astoria felt the frost on her eyelashes melt, forming droplets that slid slowly down her cheek. She shook her head. “... thank you for sheltering me from this cold.”
She felt the arms around her tighten. “Everything will be alright. I’ll make everything right.”
Their base eventually moved from the “Falling Snows” to the Fortemps Manor. There, Astoria met the esteemed Count Edmont, Haurchefant’s courteous but guarded older brother Artoriel, and his more questionable younger brother Emmanelien, and was granted a tour of the great city of Ishgard.
“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Haurchefant asked that evening, nursing a cup of mulled wine in the sitting room.
Ishgard was magnificent, in her towering stone architecture and numerous, storied sculptures. The weight, and stain, of history permeated the air. The vista at the Last Vigil overlooking the misty abyss below was stunning. “She is,” Astoria agreed, because the city was beautiful. It was also haunting, in the burn marks and scratches and decay that precluded the recent Dravanian attack which marred the walls of Foundation, and unwelcoming, from the calculating glances of nobles and the suspicious scowls of commoners alike.
“It’s been a while since I last spent the night here, with the recent surge in Dravanian activity. And every time I step foot in the city, I marvel at her beauty.” He put down his glass and placed his hand on the window, peering out into the night. “That had not always been the case, however. When I was a boy, there were days I found it so stifling here, that all I wanted to do was to get away. To anywhere. By any means.”
“But not anymore?”
He smiled faintly. “Those days are far and few in between now. Time and distance soothe many wounds. And I am not the child I once was.” He beckoned to her. “So I am able to enjoy the city as she is now. Come, join me.”
Through the glass of the large, ornate sitting room window, they watched the softly falling snow.
When Astoria returned to Ishgard, she found Haurchefant waiting at the manor. The smile on his face disappeared the moment Artoriel took his leave.
“I was with Father when he received the report from Lord Redmond. How the ward of House Fortemps saved the lives of several knights and valiantly pursued the heretics to their lair on her own.” She noticed that he was shaking. “I know you are strong, Astoria, but could you not at least bring some reinforcements with you? Artoriel, what was he thinking…!”
Astoria figured it wouldn’t be wise to tell him what Artoriel confessed to thinking. “Time was of the essence,” she offered weakly. It would be of no comfort to him to know how lost she felt in the snowstorm, with nothing but faint footsteps in the endless white to point her way. How even the heretics were a welcoming sight.
Haurchefant hesitated, then took her hands in his own. “Let me go with you to your next destination. If no one would have your back then I would fill that role.”
Astoria shook her head. “Do not worry so much. You know Camp Cloudtop is a peaceful outpost and not much should trouble us there.”
After a moment of silence, he let go with a gentle squeeze. “Let us pray you are right.”
Of course, she was wrong. Escorting had always been a test of her patience, which was quickly wearing thin. While the Vanu didn’t appear to be very threatening, their retreat was greatly hindered by the young lord’s fits of terror.
“Astoria!”
She hadn’t expected the reinforcements that Honoroit rang for to include Haurchefant. They displaced the remaining pursuers swiftly and herded Emmanelien away from the Zundu camp, but luck was not on their side. From every side the Vanu gathered, closing in on them in a circle. With Haurchefant watching her back, Astoria could have easily cleared a path out, but they were then distracted by the colossal creature that leapt from the clouds. Cid and the Enterprise came to the rescue and they were able to stew in the implications once safely onboard.
At Camp Cloudtop, Astoria watched Haurchefant converse with the Haillenarte knights stationed there and did not ask.
Soon after their return the politics of the city-state rudely made acquaintance of her, as they were wont to do. Astoria left the tribunal exhausted and frustrated with yet another exhibition of Ishgard’s judiciary system.The suppressive silence of the hall was broken by Haurchefant cheerfully congratulating her, a new feathery friend in tow.
“Oh, he’s gorgeous,” Astoria cooed at the black chocobo. “Your name will be Choco. It’s a shame that Cocoa was already taken, but now you two can have matching names.”
Haurchefant chuckled. When she looked over, he smiled apologetically. “Sorry, I rarely see you so animated. And Choco and Cocoa… very cute names.”
She pretended to glare at him, but broke into a smile of her own, the newly christened Choco chirping beside them.
“I never doubted that you would win.”
Astoria did not comment on the relief in his voice.
Ishgard would be going under siege. Alphinaud pledged the Scion’s support and went about making preparations for an attempt to parley peace.
That evening, as she was readying for the journey ahead, Astoria heard a knock at her door. Haurchefant handed her a mug of hot chocolate as he ducked into the room.
He glanced at her knapsack, a thin smile on his lips. “I was informed the Scions are embarking on another mysterious mission.”
“Alphinaud had an idea that we should try,” she told him, though it was no explanation at all.
“...were that Master Alphinaud’s ideas didn’t always risk your life.” He sighed. “I apologize, that was rude of me.”
Astoria shook her head. After a moment of hesitation, she reached for his hand. “Are we not always risking our lives? It is the reality we live in. Mine. And yours.”
“Were it not so.” Haurchefant placed his other hand over hers. Silence settled over them.
Astoria thought of the legions of slain knights on the Steps of Faith. Of the countless charred corpses, the screams of those thrown into the abyss. Of… the futility of their mission, and what was at stake. “Ser Estinien will be with us. I hope that will put your heart at ease,” she offered.
Haurchefant sighed.
“Will you close your eyes a moment for me?” In the dark, she felt his presence draw closer, then the barest hint of a touch on her forehead. “Good night, Astoria, and please. Come back safely to us… to me.”
She found her way back to him, to Ishgard. She crossed frozen rivers and barren plains, scaled tumultuous mountains and traversed sky-bound isles. Opened the Pandora's box of thousand-year lies and watched them scatter in the winds like dandelions.
And now, the battlefield was in the city, where words and deeds clashed. Through the gilded halls of the Vault they raced, to preserve the fire others would see smothered. Until at last ornate doors opened to the boundless sky.
In the glow of the setting sun, their eyes met. A smile and a moment shared before they ran towards the archbishop in unison.
Then there was nothing but blinding light and blood. And life draining slowly from that which she cradled in her hands. The hand that had been granting her warmth felt, for the first and last time, colder than ice. Glossy blue eyes stared into hers.
A smile better suits a hero.
And with those gentle chains she was shackled.
When Lord Artoriel offered her the House Fortemps shield she was seized by an inexplicable urge to knock it away. It looked wrong. All wrong . No gaping hole or jagged edge marred the pristine unicorn of their crest. Astoria swallowed the bitterness in her mouth and tried to smile. Gingerly, she lifted the shield from the steward. She… had found sanctuary with Haurchefant. She would be kin to all of House Fortemps too.
And for Ishgard Astoria would fight. And fight. And fight. With the vigor of a great wyrm’s eye she clashed with Nidhogg’s shade until she brought it to heel. Then all of a sudden, there was no one left.
The rancor surged around them, cackling with electrifying force. The aether of the shade, overwhelming even in defeat, tore at her where her hands touched the surface of the eye. And for a moment Astoria looked into the pupil and saw herself staring back. Around her lied naught but destruction.
In the glare of the setting sun, where a beam of light, brighter than the star itself, filled her entire vision. In the unnatural orange green sky, where unforgiving shrapnel shattered ice. In the quiet darkness of the aetherial sea…
Why? Why them? Why him? Why…me?
She felt Haurchefant’s touch on her hand once more and found resolve in its familiar warmth.
Astoria sat down, half-relishing in the burn of snow against her bare skin. In the distance dragons roared. She ran her fingers down the length of his shield as she gazed at his- their beloved city. And in his soothing embrace on this cliff she would linger, until duty summoned her away once more.
And her duty carried her across the realm, beyond the edges of Eorzea and across the boundless sea. Through time and space and into the heart of the star.
She should have expected to see him again, though Astoria had grown wary of expectations. A warm light pulsed around her, soothing her aching wounds and fatigued body. Her movements came to an abrupt stop.
“Lord Haurchefant,” she heard Alphinaud whisper behind her. Her fingers twitched and she longed to turn around. In front of her stretched a crystalline path, leading them deeper into the cold, dark expanse. And behind her…
She broke into a sprint.
“... Astoria! Are you alright?”
She startled awake and saw familiar red eyes. Behind, marble walls and wooden desks, overflowing with tomes of every kind. And crates. So many crates. The annex, she recognized. From her aching back she realized that it must have been at least a few hours since she had fallen asleep on this bench.
G’raha looked concerned. She supposed falling asleep anywhere reading was more of his thing. She tried to give him a reassuring smile, and as she looked up she felt wetness on her cheek.
Oh.
“You were shivering and I thought you were merely cold, but…” He started hesitantly. Astoria noticed belatedly that there was a fluffy blanket on her lap. She reached up and placed an icy hand on his bare forearm. He flinched but didn’t move away, instead covering her hand with one of his own. “Are you sure you are feeling well?”
Against her stiff fingers his skin felt like it was burning. “I was… cold. But thanks, Raha, I feel warmer already.”