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Chapter Text

It had been late when Aymeric pulled me aside.  We were all eating dinner at Fortemps Manor, chatting and drinking and generally having a good time, but I could tell something was on his mind the entire evening.

“I must ask a favor of you,” he’d said once we were alone, his voice low.  “I realize you have done more than enough, especially for me, but…”

I’d shaken my head and looked into his eyes.  “Ask,” I’d said plainly.  He is a friend, and for my friends, there is nothing I won’t do.

He’d been quiet for a few seconds.  “We do not know if this is even in the realm of possibility, but Hraesvalgar has spoken with you before.  I must know…” He’d trailed off and closed his eyes, then opened them again.  “I must know if we can have Estinien back,” he’d finished, his voice slightly rough.  “He is a dear friend, and I cannot stand to lose another, not- not after losing so much.”

I’d agreed immediately.  I wanted Estinien back as well, and more than that, I couldn’t help but remember shortly after Haurchefant’s death, when Alphinaud had asked how he was… his words, some wounds do not heal, had stayed with me.  I vowed, then and there, that I would do everything in my power to see Estinien returned, and so I’d set off for Dravania- alone- when the dawn came.  Aymeric had known that, by asking me, he was risking my life as well… but he also knew I was the only one capable, and I would have gone either way, with or without him asking.  It was only a matter of time.

As I find myself at Zenith once more, I stare up at the large structure that Hraesvalgar calls home and I wonder what he’s going to tell me.  I don’t think he’ll be particularly thrilled to see me, though Midgardsormr has vouched for me in the past.  I wonder, too, if he was affected at all by Ysale’s death.  I sigh a little when I think of her, and I shake my head slightly.  So many have died along this journey… and if I can keep it from claiming one more- Estinien- I’ll do it.

Once I’ve made my way to the top I slowly walk to the center of the large platform and look up at the sky.  I draw the horn out of my pack and take a deep breath, then sound the call the moogles had taught me what feels like a lifetime ago.  When that’s done I put the horn back, and I settle in to wait.  I close my eyes, feeling the wind caressing my face, tossing my hair… and for a moment- just a moment- I let myself relax.

When I hear the sound of wings I look up, and sure enough, Hraesvalgar lands in front of me.  I take a step back and hold my arms up to shield myself, then look at him with a small amount of wariness.  I don’t know what’s happened since Aymeric had vowed that his people would make amends to Midgardsormr- it’s possible the rest weren’t as willing to forgive.  Nidhogg certainly wasn’t.

“So,” the dragon rumbles, “thou hast returned, Warrior of Light.”

I nod cautiously.  I wonder if he’s heard what happened- I figure he probably has.  I shift my weight a little bit and then tell him my story.

To his credit, he listens without interrupting, even though I’m mostly sure he’s already heard it from Midgardsormr.  Once I’ve finished speaking, he lashes his tail back and forth, clearly considering his response.  “Thou seekest a way to return thy dragoon friend to his rightful form,” he summarizes, speaking slowly.  “A noble cause.”

I frown slightly.  That doesn’t sound promising- most people say “a noble cause” in the same breath as “a lost cause”.

He settles down, then, and looks at me thoughtfully.  “Thy friend was ever hot-blooded,” he remarks.  “It is no surprise to me that Nidhogg took advantage of that, when he did have the chance to do so.”

That’s certainly not a lie, and I nod in agreement.  Hot-blooded is one way to describe Estinien.  Y’shtola had warned me to keep an eye on him, as the rage inside of him threatened to consume him.  It seems to me, however, that he and Nidhogg had a great deal in common, and I voice this thought to Hraesvalgar, who bobs his head in agreement.

“Nidhogg was motivated by revenge, as was the Azure Dragoon,” he rumbles.  “The two are not so different.  I knowest not what my brood brother plans, but I know that even now, he summons those to his side who still believe the men of Ishgard will one day betray us again.”  His gaze never wavers from mine.  “Thou hast lost much since coming here.  Thy friends are growing slim, and yet thou press on.  Midgardsormr warned thee, when thou first arrived, to turn away- all that awaited thee, he said, was death and despair.”

I hesitate, then nod slowly.  It’s true- he did say those things to me, but I’d given him a cursory glance and gone forward anyway.  At the time, I thought he’d meant my death… and what I wouldn’t give to have understood, to have known what he knew, to have seen what he saw.

Hraesvalgar continues to study me.  “Does thou believe the Azure Dragoon worth the effort?” he finally asks, and I nod immediately.  “Good.  I would not have believed any other answer from thy lips.  Very well… hear me, Warrior of Light.  I will tell you what I know.”

I listen carefully, and by the end of his instructions, I feel somewhat hopeful.  The hard part is going to be finding Nidhogg, but once that’s accomplished, I’m fairly confident that I can handle the rest.  I cross my arms and bow my head as I think about it, then I look at Hraesvalgar and nod once.  “Thank you,” I say quietly.

The great dragon bows his head, then looks me in the eye.  “End Nidhogg’s suffering, and that shall be thanks enough.”

I am deep in thought as I slowly walk down the ramp leading back to solid ground.  I’ll have to take all of this information to Aymeric- it will be good to see him with more reason to hope.  I’m only glad there’s a way at all, and the rest doesn’t concern me.  It’ll fall into place at some point.

I’m so focused on my task that I fail to notice that I’m being watched until I’m nearly to the bottom of the ramp.  I whirl around, weapon ready, and scowl when I see who- or rather, what- is behind me.

It’s an Ascian.

It- I can’t tell if it’s male or female- had been following me down the ramp, and it could have easily done me serious damage… but it hadn’t, and I wonder why.  This one isn’t necessarily one I’ve seen before- it’s wearing black robes and the typical red mask, which renders them unidentifiable.

We stare at each other for a good sixty seconds, and I wonder what it wants.  It hasn’t made any move to do much of anything, really… and then a sickening thought occurs to me, and I grit my teeth.  It was eavesdropping on my conversation with Hraesvalgar- it must have been.

I’ve had about all I can stomach of the Ascians and their meddling, and I take a threatening step forward, brandishing my weapon.  If it doesn’t make itself scarce, I’ll make it sorry it ever crossed my path.

“Oh, don’t look at me so,” it says, and my heart nearly stops.

That voice…

I clench my jaw so hard I’m surprised my teeth don’t crack under the pressure.  The Ascians I’ve known have certainly sunk low, but I hadn’t expected one to sink this low… and I wonder what they know about me, what else they might have to use against me.

The Ascian reaches up and puts his hand on his mask.  “A smile better suits a hero,” he says, the words now mocking.  He lowers the mask, and I find myself staring Lord Haurchefant- or the Ascian who’s taken his form, perhaps- straight in the eye.  “Come now, my dear… we said forever, did we not?”

I can barely hear him above the rush of blood in my ears, and I see red.  For what must be the first time in my life, I leap forward without a second thought- I attack him in a blind fury.

He teleports out of my reach, further up the ramp, and laughs.  His laughter isn’t what I remember, not at all, and that only adds to my rage.  “Tsk, tsk… this isn’t the ‘welcome back’ I had hoped for.”  He sighs and shrugs, spreading his hands out.  “The Archbishop sought to betray us, but he was… rather short-sighted, wouldn’t you say?  He honestly believed he could get away with it- and I admit, he did take care of Lahabrea for you.  I would think that would have pleased you, given what happened to your comrade.”

I am shaking, and I clench my hands tight around my weapon.  I had wanted him back more than anything, but not like this- never like this.

He smiles at me.  I feel sick.  “I can see this has shocked you,” he murmurs.  “You must accept my apologies.  We will meet again soon, and perhaps then you’ll be more willing to hear what I have to say.”  He disappears into a swirl of black, and I am left alone.

I stand still for a long time, thinking of nothing at all, and then I reach for the aether.  I can't handle this- I need help.  I've never felt so off-balance, so weak... and so utterly, thoroughly furious.

Aymeric jumps up from behind his desk, eyes widening in shock when I storm into his office.  “What is it?” he asks, obviously alarmed by my appearance.  I dimly wonder what I must look like- I don’t think I’d recognize myself in the mirror.

I manage to tell him what happened in clipped tones, leaving my conversation with Hraesvalgar out entirely.  That has fallen to the back of my mind, though Estinien’s wellbeing is still important to me- it will have to wait.  There are more important things to focus on right now, first and foremost being how quickly I can have my hands around that Ascian’s neck.

“By the Fury,” he breathes.  Lucia, standing next to him, is white as a ghost.  He looks at her, then at me, bracing his hands on his desk.

Lucia lifts a hand to her mouth, then drops it to her side.  “Did anyone see him before he was buried?” she finally asks.  “Have we proof the body in his grave is his?”

Aymeric shakes his head slightly.  “I did not,” he replies, “nor did the Warrior of Light.”  He looks at me evenly.  “We must find out, immediately.  I am loathe to take this to Count Edmond- he will not look kindly on us for disturbing his son’s resting place, but best to inform him after if we find aught amiss.”  His expression softens.  “Perhaps you should wait-“

“No.”  I have to know, to see with my own eyes, whether or not what I saw was the truth.  I won’t be able to rest until I know for sure, and I have a feeling I’m going to be doing little enough as it is- I’m going to pursue that Ascian to the ends of Eorzea and beyond if I must.

“Very well.”  Aymeric looks at Lucia and nods.  “We three will handle this, then- and we will go under cover of nightfall.  I can only imagine what will happen if someone chances upon us digging up his grave.”  He closes his eyes briefly, then opens them again and shakes his head.  “I am certain he would understand, but the very thought shakes me to my core.”

We set off from Foundation a few hours after sunset.  Both Aymeric and Lucia have changed their armor into something that will make them harder to identify at a glance, and I’m wearing enough layers over mine that it’s hard to tell who I am, muffled like this.  This is the absolute last thing I want to be doing, and though sullen anger still burns in the pit of my stomach, there’s also anxiety and guilt at what we’re about to do.  There’s no other way to be certain, however, and as awful as it is, I need certainty- we all do.

It takes about an hour to get to his grave, and luckily, the night sky is clear.  I look up at the stars and picture the times he did the same with me, and I have to ask myself- was it a lie?  Did I miss something vital when I let this happen?  I don’t know- it’s a question I can’t answer.  The fact that he hadn’t raised a hand against me means little, ultimately.  My mind spins in nauseating circles as I numbly watch Aymeric and Lucia clear the snow away.

I should likely be helping, I think, but I can barely force myself to do much more than breathe.  The last time I was here I’d felt warm, had heard his voice- and I’m wondering, now, if I’d been hallucinating.  I hear Lucia say something, but I don’t know what- and I hear Aymeric say my name, worried.  I look up slowly to see the two of them gazing at me in concern.

“The snow doesn’t seem to have been disturbed,” Aymeric says softly, “but that isn’t saying much, given how often it falls.  The dirt beneath has not yet settled.  Are you certain you wish to be here for this?”

I nod.  It won’t be the first time I’ve seen him dead, I think grimly, and cold as it is, I doubt much damage has been done… if he’s there.

If anyone’s there at all.

I wonder when I’ll stop feeling so cold inside.

I do help this time, taking the shovel from Lucia about halfway through and digging mindlessly  until it hits the wooden coffin with a muffled thunk.  Aymeric signals for me to stop and looks up at the sky, then at Lucia with a nod.

“I’ll take it from here,” she says gently.

I grip the shovel tighter and shake my head.  I am not afraid.  Corpses give me no cause for concern.

She looks at me sympathetically.  “Even so,” she murmurs, “I wouldn’t want to see someone I cared for like that.  Both you and Aymeric should wait a few paces away until I’ve an idea of what’s happened here.  I didn’t know him as well.”

“Come,” Aymeric says, holding his hand out.  “There’s no shame in turning your back.”  I only hesitate a second before letting him haul me up out of the grave, and the two of us walk away.  He doesn’t let go, and neither do I.  I wonder, glancing at him, if he feels as sick as I do.

In the still silence, I hear the last of the dirt being cleared away, and I hear a cracking sound as she breaks the seal on the coffin.  It echoes across the ravine in front of us, and I close my eyes tight.  Next to me, Aymeric is tense, jaw set and eyes gazing into the distance.  We don’t move- we barely breathe.

It’s another moment before I hear the creak of the coffin opening and Lucia’s startled curse, and we both turn and rush back.  There is, indeed, a body in the coffin- but it isn’t his.  It’s dressed in white with dark-colored stains that I imagine are blood… and it has a dagger protruding from its neck. I stare down at it, my lips pressed into a thin line.

“By the Fury,” Aymeric swears, hitting his open palm with his fist.  “We’ve been had- this entire time… damn them!”  He turns away, then turns back to Lucia.  “Was there any evidence the grave had been disturbed before?”

“None, my lord,” Lucia replies uneasily, looking down at the coffin.  “We are the first to dig it up, of that I’m certain.”

Aymeric stares at the body in silence.  “We’ll need to take whoever this is back to Foundation,” he finally says, his voice oddly flat.  The anger I’d felt when I’d seen the Ascian appear starts to return to me- how dare they do this, how dare they hurt us this way- how dare they use him?!  “I want to know who it is and why his body is here instead of… instead of the one that rightly should be.”  He shakes his head, visibly upset.  “I held him as he died.  There was no mistake, no way of saving him!”

The anger gives way to nausea and I stumble away a few paces before I’m violently ill.  Everything catches up with me- the memory of him jumping in front of me, of his shield breaking, of him flying back… of his eyes falling shut.  I can’t breathe, I can’t think- I can’t do anything but kneel there in the snow, panting.

The two give me a moment before coming over to help me up.  I have the presence of mind to eat some of the fresh snow and clean myself, and we walk back toward Camp Dragonhead.  “Lucia, have a unit brought here from Dragonhead at once,” Aymeric orders.  She salutes him and rushes south, and he turns to me with a grim expression.  “We’ll hold vigil here until the unit returns to guard the area, and then we will return to Foundation and figure out what, exactly, has gone on here.”

The Ascians, I know well, can possess people.  They have no true form of their own.  I close my eyes and breathe deeply, then open them again and look up at the sky.  Thancred had been living, and I’d been able to save him after Lahabrea used him- but Haurchefant had died right in front of me.  If there had been an Ascian inside of him, I think, that should have forced it out to find another host… at least, from what I recall Moenbryda saying in Minfilia’s solar.

It feels like that was years ago.

I turn to Aymeric and give him this information.  He knows little about the Ascians and so I fill him in beyond what he’d learned thanks to his father’s meddling.  By the time I am finished, he is a mix of angry, pensive, and somehow thoughtful.

“If I’m understanding you properly, you were able to defeat the Ascian possessing your friend by simply overpowering him,” he says slowly.  “Thus, your friend survived- and was alive at the time of his possession.  Has he spoken much of what happened at that time?”

I shake my head.  He never wanted to think about it, and I think he was relieved that I never pressed him for more information.  I wish I had, now… though part of me is still glad that he hadn’t had to relive it over and over for the benefit of other people.  The fact that he isn’t around to ask anymore cuts me deeply.

“I suppose I can’t blame him,” Aymeric mutters.  He looks up at the sky and is silent for a little while, then lowers his gaze to mine before turning to the south.  “I do not have the faintest idea what I’m going to tell his father.”

That thought hadn’t immediately occurred to me.  I close my eyes briefly, then shake my head as I open them again.  I don’t want to tell him anything, honestly, but he made the arrangements for Haurchefant’s burial- and it’s important for us to find out if he saw him before the coffin was sealed.  I turn back and look at the grave, and I am silent.  There’s nothing more to say, not at this point.  Once we’re back in Foundation there will be much to do, but for now, out here under the stars, in the silence, Aymeric and I grieve once more without making a sound. 

Chapter Text

I feel numb when we return to Foundation, and we go to Aymeric’s office to regroup before heading to Fortemps Manor.  I sink down into a chair near his desk and close my eyes, bowing my head- and it’s silent for a moment until he kneels in front of me and offers me a mug of tea.

“Here,” he says, his voice gentle.  “I know I can’t get you to eat, but at least drink this.”

I take the mug and stare at it without really seeing it, but I do lift it to my lips after a few seconds.  That satisfies him, and he pulls another chair over to sit facing me.  I’m quiet for a minute, and then I slowly tell him what Hraesvalgar had told me- and how I believe that the Ascian was listening in.

Aymeric nods slowly, and a small smile curves his lips.  “Well,” he says quietly, “some good news is better than none, certainly.”  He clasps his hands and rests them on his stomach- a pose that’s comforting in its familiarity.  He clearly feels more in control of the situation now that we are back in his territory.  “I have to wonder why the Ascians are interested in Nidhogg… and what they stand to gain by keeping Estinien from us.”

My lip curls slightly.  You never know, with them- there’s no way of telling.  I glare down into my tea, then sigh and take another sip.  Anger can’t sustain me forever, and I have enough experience to know that in the end, it will only weaken me… but I have to let it run its course.  Given everything I know about them and what I’d experienced in Azys Lla, I can only imagine that what they’re trying to do right now is eliminate my support system- to destroy everything I care about in order to break me down, since they can’t seem to do so physically.

“I’m certain you aren’t far from the mark.”  He closes his eyes, seeming to relax, then opens them again and looks at me with an intensity that shows he is anything but tired.  “What they have done is vile, and we don’t yet know the extent of it… and you, despite all your deeds and accomplishments, are only mortal.  You are also fiercely independent- and I can’t blame you for that.  You alone have carried the weight of the world on your shoulders, and when you dared let someone else help you, he died protecting you.  I understand why, now, you are likely unwilling to repeat the experience.”  He hesitates, clearly choosing his words carefully.  “I would also understand, given this, your urge to push us all further away, but… please- do not let them win by doing so.”

I close my eyes and bow my head.  It’s hard not to want to, I think- my friends, my loved ones, all seem to be disappearing or dying.  It is dangerous for someone to care about me.

He reaches out and touches my knee, and I open my eyes, meeting his.  “Those of us who care about you do not concern ourselves with the danger,” he says softly.  “We concern ourselves with fighting by your side and being your strength when you have none left.”

That’s what they want, though, and I shake my head slightly.  They want me to lean on people so that they can strip them away, one by one, until I have nobody.  If I don’t do that, they can’t tear me down that way, and it makes more sense not to allow it.  Beyond that, Aymeric is now the leader of Ishgard- he’s far too important to be doing reckless things like that.

Aymeric smiles faintly.  “Be that as it may, I have no plans to leave you to face this alone, so for the moment, you are stuck with me.”

I sigh.

Taking that as consent, Aymeric’s smile widens and he nods.  “Good.  Now then…” He trails off and glances toward the door, then back at me.  “We have to go speak with Count Edmond.”

I don’t want to.  I would rather face down every primal I’ve ever brought low- all at the same time- than go tell Haurchefant’s father what’s happened.  On top of that, it’s still the very early hours of the morning, and I don’t want to wake him up… not with this.  Still, if we wait, it’s possible the Ascians will reach him first, and that’s not a chance I want to take.

We walk to Fortemps Manor slower than we probably could, realistically.  I know Aymeric doesn’t want to be here any more than I do.  We glance at each other as we approach, then he sighs and nods to the guard outside.

“We must speak with Count Edmond immediately,” he says.  “It is an emergency.”

The guard salutes.  “Wait in the solar,” he instructs, “and I’ll have one of the house servants fetch him.”

Aymeric and I wait as instructed.  I wrap my arms around myself, sick over what we’re going to have to do to the count- not to mention sick with my own grief.  Aymeric puts a gentle hand on my shoulder and smiles faintly down at me.  “Do not worry so,” he says quietly.  “We will get to the bottom of this, and you will not do so alone.  I choose to believe that the man I considered family in the absence of mine own is who I believed him to be all along- and I know that he would want it that way.”

I nod slowly and close my eyes, thinking back to the times Haurchefant and I had spent together.  It makes me feel better to cling to the belief that he had never lied to me- and I don’t believe he’s lying, not now.  I believe he’s being used.

Count Edmond joins us a few moments later, clearly very concerned.  “Ser Aymeric,” he says, “and the Warrior of Light- what’s happened?  Is the city in danger?”

Aymeric shakes his head.  “Nothing so dire as that,” he says quietly, “but we have some… difficult news to deliver, and difficult questions to ask.”

“I see.”  Count Edmond frowns, puzzled, but leads us to the couches where we all sit.

Aymeric looks at me, and I look at the count- and slowly tell my story.  I begin with Aymeric’s request to find Estinien and tell him about my conversation with Hraesvalgar, and then only falter a few seconds before continuing to tell him about the Ascian that had followed me… and who he’d revealed himself to be when he took his mask off.

Count Edmond’s face is white when I’m finished, and he slowly lifts his hand to his mouth before lowering it and looking back at me, then at Aymeric.  “How can that be?” he finally manages to say.

Aymeric shakes his head slightly.  “I do not know,” he says quietly.  “I realize this is incredibly painful for you, and I would not be troubling you with this if the need were not dire.  Did you see him before his burial?”

“No,” Edmond replies, his voice shaking a little.  “No, I- I preferred to remember him as he was, not… not like that.”

I can understand that, I think, closing my eyes briefly.  I have nightmares more often than not.  I do my best to remember him as he was, and I still strongly believe he is with me, or at least nearby- but that doesn’t stop the memories.

Aymeric bows his head briefly, then nods.  “We found another body in his grave- not his,” he says quietly.  “Please, forgive me for doing such a thing without asking, but had we found… what we expected, we would have known this for the vile trick it is and warned you instead.  As it happens, we found one of the temple priests with a knife in his neck.”

Edmond’s eyes widen in horror.  “By the Fury,” he breathes.  He puts his hand to his mouth again, then looks at me.  “Is he- is my son alive?”

I bite my lip hard.  I don’t know if he is or isn’t, but I don’t believe he could have survived his wounds.  I look at Aymeric helplessly, then look back at Edmond.

“We don’t know,” Aymeric finally says.  “I was… I was very certain that he was gone when we gave him to the temple priests in preparation for burial, and they checked him as well, I am sure.”

Edmond closes his eyes and doesn’t speak for a long moment, but when he does, his voice shakes a little.  “If they are using him to get to the Warrior of Light…” He trails off and then looks at me.  “You are in danger far more serious than you have ever been.”

I hesitate, then shake my head slightly.  I tell him my theory- how I believe the Ascians are going after the people I care about- and how I believe they’re doing this for that reason alone.  They can’t defeat me head on, and so they are going to try to break me instead… but what I don’t tell him is how terrified I am that this, above all, will work.

“If the Ascian that the Warrior of Light encountered is truly working toward that end, that explains their interest in Estinien,” Aymeric says darkly.  “I don’t know that it would be possible, but…”

It is more than possible.  I look at him and press my lips together.  Yes- if they wanted to, the Ascians could kill Nidhogg and destroy Estinien in the process.  I need to know everyone is safe, and I stand up, looking at Edmond sorrowfully.

Edmond stands as well and slowly walks over to me, taking my hands.  “No matter what happens,” he says quietly, “I do not blame you for it.  You are in a unique position for someone so young, and sometimes I think it’s very easy for most of us to forget that.”

I blink, then close my eyes briefly and bow my head.  It’s true- he’s right.  I am only a little younger than Haurchefant.  I could be one of his children.  There’s certainly never been a time I’ve been more tempted to run and hide… and that’s not the act of an adult, much less one on whom the world depends.

“That goes for you as well,” Edmond continues, looking up at Aymeric and shaking his head slightly.  “You have certainly earned your place, ser, but have a care for yourself as well.  If these Ascians are coming after the Warrior of Light’s friends, have no doubt that you will be on their list.”

Aymeric nods solemnly.  “I am well aware, and I do not plan to leave the warrior’s side,” he says.  “We will get this figured out, my lord- I promise you.”

Edmond smiles sadly.  “I know.  I have the utmost faith in both of you.  Whatever has happened… they will answer for what they’ve done to my son.  I have no fear along those lines.”

We depart a few moments later, when the sun is barely starting to light the sky.  Aymeric looks at it and sighs wearily, then turns his gaze to me.  “Come,” he says.  “You should sleep in my chambers tonight.  I’ve a couch I can sleep on with no trouble.”

I blink, then frown.  I don’t want people getting the wrong idea, especially given that we’ll be emerging sometime in the late morning or early afternoon.

He chuckles.  “Don’t worry about that.  I’ve no concerns therein.”  He walks back to the Congregation of the Knights Most Holy and leads me down a set of stairs I’d never noticed before.  His room is at the end of that long hallway, and he unlocks it before gesturing for me to go inside.  I only hesitate a moment before doing so.

I’m a little surprised to find a large suite that is warm and welcoming.  I’d expected something plain, like his office, but this is far different… and I find myself very comfortable almost immediately.  The couch he’d said he’d sleep on is in the main room, and I presume he wants me to sleep in his room- and I turn to him and shake my head, gesturing to the couch.

Aymeric smiles a little sheepishly.  “Actually, I usually sleep here,” he admits.  “I’m often needed on short notice, and I’ve learned to sleep well on the couch as opposed to the bed.  This way, we can be certain that you won’t be bothered if something arises that needs my attention… and I can be assured of your safety.  Come, I’ll show you.”  He leads me into the bedroom, which has no windows and no other doors.  It’s wonderfully warm in here, and I find my eyelids drooping almost immediately.  “Go ahead and get some rest.  Once you’re ready, we’ll go find your friends and see what we can discover from there.”

A million plans go through my mind in that moment, and I nod and smile briefly, gratefully- and I manage to get my armor removed once he’s left the room, and I fall fast asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.

Blessedly, I don’t have any nightmares.  I wake slowly, feeling well-rested and alert, and push myself up to stretch.  I wonder how long I’ve slept, and when I silently enter the living room, I find Aymeric already awake as well- and a platter of food.  He looks up and sees me, and when my stomach growls, he laughs softly.

“I felt much the same when I woke,” he says.  “Here, join me- we’ll devour this, I’m certain, between the two of us.”

I set onto the food like I haven’t eaten in weeks, and neither of us says much while we focus on that task.  I’m deep in thought the entire time, and by the time the plates are empty, I have a plan.  I look at him and nod slightly.  The first thing we have to do, I think, is go speak with Alphinaud, Tataru, and Y’shtola- and after that, we have to find Thancred.  He has personal experience with Ascian possession, and though I hate to make him relive it, I must- otherwise, we may not be able to free Haurchefant… assuming he’s alive.

Aymeric nods slowly.  “Your friend, Y’shtola- she’s the one who spirited them away from Ul’dah, is she not?”  When I nod, he tilts his head, then speaks thoughtfully.  “I could call upon the Elder Seedseer and see if she can be of any aid regarding his whereabouts.”

I’m about to nod when I remember exactly what it had taken to get Y’shtola back- we had her half-sister, Y’mhitra.  Thancred, as far as I know, doesn’t have any family… so if he’s in that position as well, there may be no way to recover him.  I frown, suddenly frustrated.

“We’ll just have to hope that is not the case,” Aymeric says.  “It is not outside the realm of possibility that Master Thancred escaped such a fate, and so we will work with what we have until we locate him.”

I nod slightly, thankful for Aymeric’s level-headed response, and we leave the room together.  I blink, surprised, when we pass by the windows upstairs- it’s dark outside.  I hadn’t thought we’d sleep that long, but when I think on it, I had been beyond exhausted… not to mention traumatized at what I’d been through.  I close my eyes briefly and pray that we’ll be able to recover him, or at least put him to rest- I don’t know what I’ll do if this drags on for too long.

The people of Camp Dragonhead had welcomed us warmly when we’d decided to continue on and take Haurchefant’s invitation to have our new home there in the camp, and when I return I am greeted with smiles and waves- and then surprised salutes when they see Aymeric.  He nods to all the guards as we walk toward the building Haurchefant had given us control of, and he looks at me with a faint smile.  “I have to appoint someone new to take charge here,” he murmurs.  “I’ve no idea who it should be.”

I pause, then smile.  “It should be Artoriel,” I say firmly.  Artoriel would be an excellent candidate- he had experience, though he still had a lot of room to grow… and I know Haurchefant’s knights would more than welcome him.

Aymeric brightens.  “That’s a wonderful idea,” he says warmly.  “I’ll see it done as soon as I’ve the time to do so- assuming he’ll agree, though I don’t see why not.”

The new headquarters of the Scions- named the Falling Snows in honor of Haurchefant’s suggestion to do so- is progressing quite well, and I am impressed when I walk inside.  More or less everyone who had been in Mor Dhona has joined us, and I smile a little as I look around.  It feels very familiar.

“There you are!” calls a cheerful voice, and I turn to see Tataru waving at me from her desk off to the side.  “And you’ve brought Ser Aymeric with you!  Welcome back, both of you!”

I smile warmly at her and nod.  It’s good to be here, I think… good to be home.

“Thank you, Mistress Tataru,” Aymeric replies, bowing slightly to her, which makes her cheeks turn pink.  I can’t help but grin at that, though I do so behind my hand.  Aymeric is a very attractive man, and that fact doesn’t escape many people… least of all Tataru, it seems.  “I wish we’d come with better news, but we must speak with you as well as Master Alphinaud and Mistress Y’shtola as soon as possible.”

Tataru nods and hops off of her chair, hurrying toward one of the doors and motioning for us to follow her.  “They’re studying in here,” she says, pushing the door open quickly.  “Alphinaud!  Y’shtola!  Look who’s here!”

They both look up from their books and smile, though they get up and bow respectfully to Aymeric.  “So here you are,” Y’shtola greets me.  “I’d wondered if you were going to stay in Foundation for a little while.”

I shake my head.  I’d been planning on coming back shortly with news of Estinien, anyway… and I have that to give, as well as the obvious.  I close my eyes briefly, and decide to give them that bit of good news first.

Alphinaud lights up at the prospect of getting Estinien back, and I can’t bring myself to say the rest, not yet.  “This is excellent news!” he says, excited.  “A small chance, perhaps, but a chance nonetheless!  Let us away and speak with Cid on how we might be able to gather more information.  It’s possible that we can get readings from the Aery, or other nearby dens.”

Y’shtola is watching me carefully, however, and she frowns.  “What is it?” she asks.  “There’s something you haven’t told us yet.”

I draw a breath and let it out slowly, then tell them what had happened, from the moment I’d realized I was being followed to digging up his grave, and the conversation we’d had with his father.  By the time I’ve finished, both Alphinaud and Y’shtola are somber.

“I cannot say this surprises me,” Alphinaud finally says slowly.  “I believe you’re right about their motives, but the question remains- how did they manage to pull this off?”

“I can think of several ways,” Y’shtola replies.  “This is the man who used to have charge of this camp, correct?”

Alphinaud looks at her with a sad smile and nods.  “The very same, and a dear friend to all of us,” he says.  “Lord Haurchefant has always been one of our biggest supporters, and his loss… was devastating.”  He glances at me, then looks back at Y’shtola.  “The Ascians have proven before that they have no issues doing whatever it takes to stop us.  This is merely one more step in their plan.”

Y’shtola nods.  “From what you’ve told me, the Archbishop was consorting with the Ascians, was he not?”  She looks at Aymeric.  “Do you think this was part of their plan all along?”

Aymeric frowns.  “To possess Haurchefant and use him against us?  I doubt that very much… but I don’t doubt the intent to possess someone, and so I can’t say it is impossible.”  He shakes his head.  “I don’t remember much of my torture, unfortunately… only when I was freed.  I can’t say for certain who was responsible for my injuries- but we do know who dealt Haurchefant a killing blow, and he is dead as well.”

“Let us start back in Foundation,” Y’shtola suggests.  “I’d like to have a look at the temple grounds… and from there, we will decide our next move.”

I speak up, then, voicing my intent to find Thancred.  Alphinaud looks surprised, but he nods in agreement.

“We can split up,” he suggests, but I shake my head vehemently.  There can be no splitting up- not now.  That might be exactly what they’re waiting for.  Alphinaud crosses his arms as he considers it, then nods and looks at Y’shtola.  “Let us go to the temple first,” he suggests, “and from there, back to Ul’dah.  It is possible, if we go to where you cast the spell, you might be able to divine something- right?”

“It’s possible,” Y’shtola agrees.  “Anything will help at this point.  Let us away, then.”

As we head back to Foundation, I’m left thinking over my options.  I look at Aymeric worriedly- I wonder if he really can afford to be here, if Ishgard can be left unattended while we deal with this.  I have to trust his judgment on the matter, and in a way, I think this is an opportunity for him to help us as we’ve helped him in the past… and moreover, a chance for him to get revenge for what was done to Haurchefant.

For now, that will have to be sufficient- I can’t allow any of them out of my sight, not for one second.  The risks are too great, and I’m not willing to gamble with their safety.

Chapter Text

The temple in Foundation is a large, sprawling building- it’s lovely, really… but I can’t stand to be anywhere near it.  There are far too many bad memories.  Still, I am resolute to find any sort of clue I can, and so I steel myself and push forward.  I can tell Aymeric is none too pleased to be back here as well, and I wonder absently if he’ll order the whole thing torn down in the name of the new society he’s trying to build.  I don’t think that would be a bad thing.

Y’shtola walks in front of us, silver eyes scouring the place.  “Very interesting,” she says quietly.  “The aether here seems… disrupted.  I suppose that would be telling of the Ascians’ presence, at one point in time.”  She looks back at Aymeric.  “Where were you taken when you were imprisoned?”

“This way,” Aymeric says quietly.  He leads us through the temple and into the Vault, down the winding staircase that leads to the dungeons.  I hadn’t been here, and now that I see it, I am very glad of that fact.  Imagining Aymeric in here is going to give me more nightmares.  He gestures down the row of cells.  “I was in the last one on the right.  I’m sure you’ll understand if I do not accompany you to have a look.”

I don’t much want to go either, so I stay back with Aymeric while Y’shtola and Alphinaud go back to examine the area.  I shift my weight a little and then look up at him worriedly.  If I were him I wouldn’t want to be anywhere near here, and the fact that he is only speaks of his strength and resolve.  I can respect that a great deal.

He looks at me and smiles a little.  “Don’t fret, my friend,” he says.  “I’m all right… so long as I stay where I am.”  He glances down the row of cells and then turns his back on them, shaking his head.  “I rather think I’m blessed with not remembering, and I’d truly like to keep it that way.”

I nod- I understand.  I’d like to forget this place, too.

He sighs softly and scuffs one of his boots against the ground.  “I don’t know what I’m to do with this place,” he mutters.  “The church has ever been the center of our society.  I want to make certain people can continue to worship as they please, but so many horrible things happened here in the name of faith that it is difficult not to be disheartened by the whole idea.”

I glance back over my shoulder at the cells, then look at him thoughtfully.  If it were up to me, I’d probably pack the place full of food and supplies for the needy, to be distributed when times are hard.  That would be one good deed to atone for the horrors that had happened, though I’m not certain that will outweigh them.

He makes a thoughtful sound.  “A storage facility of sorts?” he asks in response to my idea.  “That could be arranged… especially as we’ve no current place to store things like that.  It would be a good idea, I think, to stockpile supplies.”

Y’shtola and Alphinaud come back before either of us can say more, and Y’shtola looks at Aymeric with a slight nod.  “Let us continue,” she says.  “I’m sure you’re eager to get out of here- and I am as well.”

Aymeric leads us through the temple, stopping when Y’shtola wants to examine something or another.  I wonder what she’s seeing, now that she uses the power of the aether instead of the sight she’d had before her accident… and I wonder if Thancred will be the same.  I wonder if we’ll find him at all.  I close my eyes briefly and tell myself that I have to have faith, I have to keep going… but after losing Haurchefant, I lost half of myself with him.

I stop when we approach the airship landing.  The others go on ahead as though they haven’t noticed, and I turn my back on it, wrapping my arms around myself as though by doing so, I’ll keep myself from falling apart from grief.  His blood still stains the white cobblestones, and I can’t bear to take one step further.

It’s a few moments before I feel a gentle hand on my shoulder.  I don’t look up, but I know exactly who it is.  “Come,” Aymeric says softly.  “Let us leave this horrible place.  Your friends have this investigation well in hand.”

I am walking a tightrope, inches away from falling apart.  I let him lead me out, back into the open air of the city, and I summon all my willpower to keep a straight, calm face.  He keeps his hand on my back, a steady reminder of his presence and support, and I appreciate that more than I can put into words.

When we reach his office, he walks to his desk and opens the bottom drawer and pulls out a bottle of amber-colored liquid and two glasses.  He pours us each half a glass and offers one to me with a wry smile.  “While I don’t usually advocate drinking during the day, I feel this situation calls for an exception.”

I take the glass and thank him, and the liquor burns a fiery trail from my mouth clear to my stomach with just one sip.  I cough a bit, but the next sip is far better, and I settle into a chair across from him.  Drinking myself into a blind stupor sounds appealing, but there’s no time for that- I simply do not have the luxury of falling apart.  I had grieved his death, had clung to the belief that he truly was still with me, and now I’m having to face what looks like the unfortunate truth- the Ascians had planned this, and they are working to break me.

I can’t let it happen.

I don’t know if I’m strong enough to stop it.

Aymeric is watching me worriedly, but he takes a drink of his own liquor and says nothing about the mess I must look.  He’s about to say something when a knock at the door interrupts him, and he raises his eyebrows.  “Come,” he calls.

The door opens to admit none other than Haurchefant’s older brother, Artoriel.  He looks pale and haggard- much, I suspect, as Aymeric and I do ourselves.  “Ser Aymeric,” he says, closing the door behind him and walking over to the desk with the same brisk stride I’ve always seen him use.  “Father told me what happened- is it… is it true?  Is Haurchefant alive?”

“I don’t know,” Aymeric says softly, “and I know that isn’t the answer you want, Lord Artoriel.”  He sighs and leans forward, resting his forearms on his desk.  “The Warrior of Light encountered an Ascian who, for all intents and purposes, may have been him.  I’ve no reason not to believe their words, most especially since the body we found in his grave wasn’t his.”

Artoriel breathes a curse and grips the back of the chair next to mine to steady himself.  “You dug up his grave?” he finally asks, and I understand why he’s indignant about that- there’s really nothing he can say to the rest.

Aymeric nods.  “Had we found what we expected, we’d have replaced everything as it was and begged his forgiveness for disturbing his rest; however, the body in the coffin was a priest who looks to be some twenty years older.  This leads me to believe that what the Warrior of Light saw is true.”

Artoriel looks at me, his pain evident in his eyes.  “You’re sure it was him?”

I nod without hesitation.  I know him better than most, of that I am certain, and there’s no mistaking him for someone else… especially not in that moment.

Artoriel bows his head and is silent for a few breaths, then looks up at Aymeric again.  “I want to help,” he says firmly.  “I can’t let those bastards get away with using him, and if he’s- if he’s truly their prisoner, he must be set free!”

“I agree with you,” Aymeric says, “and there is something you can do, if you are willing.”  When Artoriel immediately nods, Aymeric continues.  “I need someone to take his place at Camp Dragonhead, and our friend here suggested I offer the position to you- and I think you are best suited to do so.  Camp Dragonhead is absolutely essential, and I cannot let it fall to ruin with nobody to watch over it.”

“I- of course,” Artoriel finally says, a bit flustered.  “Thank you, Ser Aymeric… if that is truly what I can do to help, I will see it done.”

Aymeric smiles gently.  “It’s the best thing I have right now,” he says, “but fear not- if I need you for battle or information, I will call upon you at once.”  He bows his head briefly, then looks back up at Artoriel.  “I will also share with you what news I have when I have it.  I know… that his loss hit all of you very hard.”

Artoriel looks away and closes his eyes.  “I hated him for the longest time,” he finally says, his voice strained.  “He was proof of Father’s infidelity- and that Father cared for him made it worse.  That he overcame all of it and grew up to be a man of compassion and sincerity is a miracle in and of itself.  He deserved far better than what he got from Emmanellain and myself, and though it is far too late to atone… if he’s being used to this end- I know, beyond any shadow of doubt, that he would loathe it.”

I close my eyes as well.  He would hate it, of this I am sure.  There’s no way- not a chance- that he’d lied to me that entire time… because the Ascians couldn’t have had the foresight to know that they wouldn’t be able to best me.  Their arrogance is staggering.  Given that, there’s no reason to believe that this isn’t the same situation we’d dealt with when Lahabrea possessed Thancred, and I am more determined than ever- and more impatient than ever.  I want to go to Ul’dah, I want to find a lead, and I want to find Thancred.  I’m still loathe to make him remember what he went through, but I know he’ll do so willingly when he hears how very important this is.

Aymeric and Artoriel discuss a bit more of what will happen at Camp Dragonhead when Artoriel takes over, and when the heir to House Fortemps leaves, we sit in silence for a little while… and then Aymeric speaks thoughtfully.  “You mentioned, regarding your friend who was also possessed, that you were able to free him through combat.  Have you any idea how strong this particular Ascian is in comparison?”

I blink, then shake my head.  It seems to me like they’re all the same, more or less- they’re strong in different ways, just like most people.  There are a lot of them, however, and I can’t say with any certainty that I’ve spoken with all of them… and then a memory comes to me, and I frown sharply.  There’s one Ascian that’s different from the rest, one whose true motives I have yet to ascertain, and I tell Aymeric about him- Elidibus, the white-robed Ascian who’d appeared to Minfilia and myself.

Aymeric listens intently.  “You haven’t seen him since then?” he asks, and when I nod, his frown deepens.  “Very interesting… and he made no move to attack you, either- that’s very unlike them, from what you’ve said.”  He grits his teeth and hits the top of his desk, frustrated.  “Would that I knew more of what their game was when my father tried to outwit them!”

I smile grimly.  Their game is what it’s always been- destruction.  The only difference is what type of destruction and who will suffer the consequences of being in their way.  Most recently it’s been me, and they have earned themselves no respite at all from my presence.

“You frighten them, clearly,” Aymeric murmurs.  “You said my father’s last words were to ask you who- and what- you are.”  He looks at me thoughtfully, then smiles.  “That is one thing that does not concern me.  I have no reason to doubt you are who and what you’ve always said you are.”

Y’shtola and Alphinaud return a little while later, both looking somewhat pensive.  “I didn’t learn as much as I’d hoped,” Y’shtola admits, shaking her head.  “There is certainly evidence that the aether has been twisted, but… I fear we’ll need Urianger’s expertise to see if there’s anything we can glean from it- or Matoya’s.”

I remind them both of Elidibus, who has been mysteriously absent since imposing himself on Minfilia, and Alphinaud’s expression turns thoughtful.

“He scolded you for raising your weapon to him, did he not?”  Alphinaud pauses, then spreads his hands.  “It’s possible that he’s behind this, as the rest seem to prefer to think with their weapons.”

“Possible, yes,” Y’shtola agrees, “but we have little to no certainty.  It’s a good theory, however, and one we should keep in mind.  For now, let us turn our thoughts to finding Thancred.  He, more than anyone, will be able to help us with this.”

Aymeric stands and nods.  “To Ul’dah, then,” he says, and pauses when all three of us look at him- and then he shakes his head.  “Oh, no.  I recognize that look.  You’ll not be convincing me to stay behind, not this time.”

Alphinaud raises an eyebrow at him.  “Oh?  Has aught changed from when Estinien prevented you- and me, as I recall- from going to the Aery?”

“Actually, it has.”  Aymeric grins, and I have to lift a hand to my mouth to hide my own smile in response- he looks like a child who’s found his way around his parents’ rules.  “Lucia has the exact same authority I had all along- she commands the Temple Knights in my stead, when something else needs my attention… and I think this is such a case.”

Alphinaud looks at me and I shrug, and he does as well before turning back to Aymeric.  “Very well, if you think your accompanying us is more important than your duties here,” he says.

“I do.”  Aymeric’s smile softens.  “You have all done a great deal for Ishgard… and this is a chance for me personally to help you- and not only that, but Haurchefant was a dear friend to me as well.  I am very invested in seeing this Ascian pay for what he’s done.”  He pauses, then glances down at his armor.  “Give me just a moment to change into something slightly less recognizable.”

Once he’s gone, Y’shtola turns to me with a concerned expression.  “Far be it from me to doubt your abilities, but… this is rather personal for you.  Are you going to be able to handle this?  As soon as they see you weakening they will take advantage.”

I look up at her from the chair I’m seated in, and dimly, I wonder if the entire world now knows.  It’s just one more indignity on top of the rest- taking my personal tragedy and displaying it for everyone to see.  Can I handle this?  I don’t honestly know.  I have to try, however- otherwise it’s a certainty that we will fail and I’ll be killed… or worse.  There’s nowhere for me to run to hide from any of this horror.  I finally nod- it’s the only answer I can give.  Yes, I will be able to handle this.  I will succeed.  I have no choice.

“My guess is this is another reason Ser Aymeric is joining us,” Alphinaud murmurs.  “We’re all worried about you, you know.”

I smile faintly.  I know.  This is exactly why I’d told myself, back at the beginning, that love wasn’t for a person like me.  It was too dangerous to let my heart get involved, too dangerous to let myself, for one fleeting time, be like everyone else.  Even had I not gone to bed with him, however, I’m still convinced that nothing would have changed- if anything, it would have been far worse, to see him die and realize that I’d squandered all that time to experience something magical… something that made me stronger.

When I don’t say anything, Y’shtola finally nods.  “Well,” she says with a quick smile, “I have faith in you, as I always have.  I’ve no doubt we’ll move forward to victory- the only question right now is how.”  She puts a hand to her mouth and frowns, suddenly deep in thought.  “I had thought, when I spirited Thancred and myself away, that we would end up somewhere safe- the original destination I had in mind was Limsa Lominsa.  It is possible that he’s there, somewhere.”

Alphinaud is quiet for a moment.  “And if he’s in the aether?”

Y’shtola doesn’t answer for a little while.  “We’ll cross that bridge when we reach it,” she finally says.  She doesn’t want me to despair, but I know as well as everyone that if we can’t somehow find someone of Thancred’s blood, we’re in trouble.

Aymeric comes back a few moments later in a suit of armor that isn’t that much different from what Haurchefant wore- it’s more or less the same as all knights of Ishgard, full chainmail with the trappings of whatever house they represent.  Aymeric has no insignia to identify him as who he truly is, nor does he have anything that signifies the support of one of the High Houses.  He smiles and shakes his head.  “I haven’t worn this in years,” he says, amused, “though I took care to keep it in good condition.”

Alphinaud looks impressed.  “You don’t look much like yourself,” he admits.  “And you’ve a bow and arrows?”

“I trained as an archer before taking up the sword,” Aymeric replies with a nod.  “I haven’t let those skills go to waste either.”

“Good,” Y’shtola says.  “Come, then, let us make for Ul’dah.  The sooner we have answers, the better I’ll feel about all of this.”

I agree with her.  Knowing what we have to do but having no way of getting there is wearing thin.  I stand and head out the door with the rest of them, making for the airship landing.  I’m looking forward not only to finding answers, but also to being back in a warmer climate, and I smile wryly to myself.  One day, when all of this is over, I’m going to settle down in the warmest place I can stand…

… though if all goes well and my dearest wish comes true, that will be Camp Dragonhead, more than likely.

I smile a little and decide to hold that hope close to my heart.  Anything is possible, I tell myself- anything at all.

Chapter Text

I’ve been back to Ul’dah since the whole unfortunate mess had taken place, but I’ve always felt like there are people watching me- and that feeling hasn’t changed much now.  One thing I’m very glad for is the warmth, though, and I shed my heavy cloak in favor of a lighter one that drapes my shoulders and flows down to my ankles.

“Welcome to Ul’dah,” Alphinaud says to Aymeric with a smile.  “Well… welcome back, at any rate, though I don’t know that you saw much of it last time.”

“I did not,” Aymeric admits, looking around and shrugging.  “It seems a nice place, if not a bit… hot.”

I look at him with a wry smile.  He’s likely the only one of us who thinks so- the rest of us are relieved indeed.

We head through the gates and into the city proper, and being that it’s the middle of the day, it’s bustling with activity.  I don’t pay much attention to any of it until I realize something has caught Aymeric’s attention.  I blink and look over to see what he’s looking at, then chuckle quietly.  There’s a group of scantily-dressed miqo’te dancing off to one side, and I’d be willing to bet all the gil I have to my name that Aymeric hasn’t ever seen such a thing.

I grab his hand and tug him along and he stumbles a bit before hurrying up to match my stride, and he looks at me somewhat sheepishly.  “I’m not used to seeing, ah… that.”

Y’shtola glances over her shoulder at him and smiles knowingly.  “Don’t worry, Ser Aymeric.  You’ll see many things you aren’t used to by the time you’re done traveling with us.”

Aymeric manages a weak smile.  “I suppose it’s good to be worldly if one is going to lead,” he says.  He glances back over his shoulder once, then looks ahead, turning his mind to our mission.  “Where are we going?”

“Around the city and into the aqueducts,” Alphinaud answers, holding up one finger as he explains.  “We’ll go in where the Warrior of Light escaped, and from there, backtrack until we find the place where Y’shtola cast her spell.”

I nod slightly.  I remember it well, and I’m able to lead the way there with no trouble.  Once we’re inside a bit I pause, looking back over my shoulder then ahead.  This is where Minfilia had turned back… and we’re no closer to finding her than we are to anyone else.  I can’t imagine what became of her, especially given that the only bodies found were those of the Crystal Braves who were after us.

Aymeric looks at me, concerned.  “Are you all right?”

I look at him and give him a quick smile.  For the moment, at least, I can hold it together.

When we arrive at the place Y’shtola and Thancred vanished, she and Alphinaud go forward to investigate while I hang back with Aymeric.  I look up at the ceiling of the cavern, then at him.  He looks thoughtful, and he’s watching the other two with no small amount of curiosity.  He sees me watching him and smiles.

“I never had much affinity for the arcane, if any,” he admits.  “It has, however, always fascinated me.  I often thought of how useful it would be to, say, turn an arrow to fire in mid-air instead of lighting them beforehand… and yet it isn’t something I, personally, can do.”

I tilt my head.  I hadn’t even known he was an archer beforehand, and I wonder about him, about his past and how he came to be where he is now.  He seems to have a thirst for learning that is unquenchable, and I find that very interesting.  As he watches them, I watch him, and briefly, I feel calm.

I turn away after a few seconds, scanning the tunnel for anything else that might prove useful… and I only manage to take one step before I feel a familiar headache hit me out of nowhere.  I’m aware of Aymeric quickly catching me as I stumble, then everything fades out in favor of the Echo.

I see Y’shtola and Thancred standing side by side, watching as the Crystal Braves rush toward them.  Thancred steps in front of her to defend her and she begins to cast a spell.  I see him attack one, then another- they fall to his knives like they’re nothing- and then he falls back when more appear.

I hear him cry out in pain, realize there’s an arrow embedded in his thigh, and he yells for her to hurry.

She says, “It is done.”

The ceiling above starts to give way, and Thancred smiles.  His last words are for Minfilia- “farewell”- and then the rocks tumble down… but not before the two of them vanish into thin air.

I come back to myself slowly and realize I have caught the attention of Y’shtola and Alphinaud- they’re standing next to me looking both worried and eager.  “You saw something?” Alphinaud asks.

I nod and tell them what it was… which, unfortunately, wasn’t really anything useful.  We already know Thancred is not dead- at least not here.  I frown and think back to the vision, wondering if there was something I missed, somehow… but I can’t think of anything, and I shake my head slightly.  Sometimes the Echo isn’t as useful as it seems, and that can get very frustrating very quickly.

“It may be a clue,” Y’shtola muses.  “As of now, however, all I can tell is that powerful magic was used here.”  She smiles wryly.  “That’s not much of a surprise to anyone, I fear.”

Something glinting on a rock nearby catches my eye and I turn, slowly walking over to it while the others discuss options for our next course of action.  I crouch next to the stone and slowly reach for it, and when I realize what it is, my eyes open wide.

It’s Haurchefant’s earring.

As soon as I touch it the Echo hits me again, this time sending me reeling.

Despite his wounds, it’s Aymeric who lifts Haurchefant into his arms to carry him back.  Estinien is right at his elbow should he falter, as is Lucia, but nobody says anything to dissuade him.  I am left kneeling on the cobblestones, and for the longest time I do not move… at least not until Estinien notices that I am not with them.  He turns back, then makes a sound and looks at Lucia.

“Look after Aymeric,” he says, and then he is running back to fetch me.

I don’t look up when he crouches next to me, nor do I do much when he gently eases me to my feet.  I walk, one foot in front of the other, out of pure instinct.

“Come now,” he murmurs, and his voice is as gentle as I’ve ever heard it.  “Let’s get out of here.  Those Ascians- and the Archbishop- have much to answer for.”

The vision shifts abruptly and I see Aymeric gently setting Haurchefant down on a bed in what must be a hospital of sorts.  The priests all around look somber, some upset.  “Take good care of him,” he says, his voice strained and near to breaking.  “His father may… want to see him, before he’s buried.”

“Of course, Ser Aymeric,” one of the priests says softly, stepping forward and putting a hand on his shoulder.  “Let’s see to your wounds now as well.”

In the corner I see the priest who’d somehow ended up in Haurchefant’s coffin, and I watch him as the other priest and one of his colleagues lead Aymeric out of the room.

The images begin coming faster.  I see Aymeric on a bed of his own, both hands over his face while the healers treat his knee, but he isn’t hiding due to pain- and his tears aren’t because of what happened to him.

I see Estinien talking with several of his colleagues- I see him turn and punch a solid stone wall.  None of them say anything, and he only bows his head.  The stone has cracked.

Lucia is standing outside The Vault looking bewildered and sad, giving orders to the knights who are still loyal to Aymeric.

I see Artoriel physically step back as though he can escape the words in front of him.  Emmanellain’s face pales dramatically- I’m afraid, for a second, that he may collapse.

Last, I see Haurchefant again… and two Ascians standing on either side of the bed he lays on.  The priest lays dead on the floor- and Haurchefant’s pale blue eyes slowly open.

Thankfully, blessedly, the vision comes to an end.  Aymeric is right behind me, his hands on my arms, keeping me steady.  I am gripping Haurchefant’s earring so hard that I feel the edges digging into my hand, feel the warmth of blood beginning to pool there.  It makes, I am certain, a horrifying sight indeed when I slowly open my fingers to reveal what I’d found.

“By the Fury,” Aymeric breathes.  “That’s…”

Alphinaud stares at it, and when he speaks, his voice sounds oddly flat.  “Lord Haurchefant’s earring, I think.”

Y’shtola frowns and looks around suspiciously.  “That means we’re being watched,” she murmurs, “or…”

“They’re a step ahead of us,” Aymeric says grimly.  “This being here can only mean that.  The Ascians knew we were coming, and they likely know why.”

“Thancred’s possession wasn’t exactly a well-kept secret,” Alphinaud says slowly.  “In fact, he was used against us to weaken us.”

Y’shtola nods curtly.  “This isn’t good news.”  Her silver eyes narrow as she looks at the earring, then she sighs and holds her hand over my own, healing the puncture wounds with a thought.  She looks at me, but I am staring at the earring.  I can think of nothing else.

Alphinaud steps back.  “We must away, and quickly,” he says.  “If Y’shtola thinks that the destination was Limsa Lominsa, there’s little doubt the Ascians are already on their way there.  If they make it to Thancred before we do, his life is undoubtedly forfeit.”

“Right,” Y’shtola says.  She looks at me again, then casts a helpless glance at Aymeric.

Aymeric signals for them to go ahead, and they do.  He says my name softly, and I slowly break out of the self-induced trance I’d fallen into.  I turn and look at him.  “We have to hurry,” he says softly.  “Are you well?”

No, I’m not, I think.  I don’t know if I ever will be again.

I nod and briefly put my hand to my head.  The Echo always gives me a headache and leaves me woozy- better he think that’s the reason for my reticence than the truth of it.

He pauses.  “What did you see?” he finally asks.  His voice is barely audible- he’s afraid of what he’s asking.

I close my eyes briefly, then open them and look back up at him- and I tell him, haltingly.  He bows his head, then looks back at me, his expression one of sheer determination borne of necessity.

“Let’s be off,” he says.  He sounds like his normal self this time, fully in control and confident.  He takes my hand and leads me along, and I follow.  If he can be strong, perhaps I can as well… but seeing something like that- it’s shaken me to my core.  I’m not sure I’m as strong as everyone needs me to be, and that’s frightening.

Once we’re on the airship I sit down away from the others and look out across the land as it flies by.  I close my eyes and think of nothing in particular, or at least I try to… but I see Haurchefant’s eyes opening and quickly open my own.  I don’t want to think about that.

A distraction comes in the form of Alphinaud, who sits down next to me and turns his gaze toward the passing scenery as well.  “I don’t know what to say,” he finally admits, bowing his head.  “I want to ask how you are, but that seems foolish- and I want to say something to cheer you up, but I don’t think that’s right either.”

I smile faintly.  Just having him next to me is helping, really… it’s at least taking my mind from the vision I’d seen, and that’s more important than anything else.  I wonder how he’s doing, though- and so I ask.

He looks at me, surprised, then smiles faintly.  “I’m well,” he says honestly.  “I’m worried, of course, but I’ve never had reason to fear since I met you.”  He frowns a little, suddenly pensive.  “I suppose I never thought the Ascians would do something so horrific, but… given who they are, I’m not sure why I’m surprised.”

I wish I could be surprised.  I shake my head slightly and look back out at the scenery.  They want to stop me, and they will try anything to reach that goal.

He’s quiet for another moment, then launches into a memory of something we’d done long before, and I smile as I listen to him.  He clearly wants to distract me as much as I want a distraction, and that’s a good thing… and, for a little while, I’m able to if not forget, at least believe things are less dire than they seem.

When we land in Limsa Lominsa I’m feeling a little better, and I immediately know where to go.  I turn to the others and remind them of Thancred’s background, and Y’shtola lights up.

“That’s a wonderful idea!  I’d thought of here simply because it’s easy to disappear, but- you’re right, Thancred spent a good deal of time here.  If he ended up here, there’s no doubt he would’ve gone back to his old guild.”  She nods, silver eyes shining with anticipation.  “Let’s hurry!”

We go to the lower decks and head toward the place I’d met up with the pirates last- I’m not sure pirates is the right term, but I don’t really know what else to call them.  I do know that Lady Yugiri is here, or nearby, and I make a note to see if we can find her as well.  I glance over when I realize Aymeric has fallen behind, and I smile a little to see him staring in awe at the sea.  In this light, with the way the wind tousles his hair, he looks much different… less like a battle-hardened soldier and more like the young man he actually is.  He’s older than me, I think, but not by much at all.

I slowly walk back to his side and look out at the sea with him.  When is the last time, I ask myself, that I really stopped and looked at it?

“It’s breathtaking,” Aymeric finally says softly.  “Before the Calamity, Ishgard was much different, but even still… I can’t ever remember having seen the sea like this.”

I look up at him and smile a little, and there’s an ache in my chest that hadn’t been there before.  All he’s known is war and sorrow and hardship… even before the Calamity, had he ever been able to simply relax and enjoy himself?  I don’t think so… and I don’t think Haurchefant had, either.  I remember taking him to Gridania and his wide-eyed wonder at the lake we’d passed, and I quickly lift my hand to my eyes, acting like I’m shading them from the sun.  I don’t want Aymeric to see my tears.

We stand there for just a bit longer when he turns to face me with a quick smile.  “Forgive me,” he says.  “We’ve urgent business to attend to, I know.”

I drop my hand and nod at him, now under control once more.  Y’shtola and Alphinaud are walking back towards us- running, really- and from the look on their faces, they have good news.

“He’s here,” Alphinaud says excitedly, skidding to a halt in front of us.  “He’s not in the aether!”

I sigh in relief and smile, then look at Aymeric before looking back at the others with a nod.  The sooner we can get this over with, the better.

Y’shtola pauses.  “There’s a catch,” she says slowly.  “He’s unconscious, and has been since his arrival.  He was found on the beach not far from here, and his friends recognized him immediately and brought him to safety- but, despite being in good health physically, he hasn’t woken.”

Aymeric frowns.  “What will it take to wake him?” he asks as we head back in the direction they’d come from.

“I don’t know.”  Y’shtola shakes her head.  “We may need to seek the Elder Seedseer’s help again… but for now, we know he is alive, and that’s a very good thing indeed.”

Thancred is resting on a bed inside one of the stone buildings, in a room that’s well-lit and cheerful.  If I didn’t know better I’d expect him to wake any moment, to grumble at us for disturbing him and then hop up with a smile, asking what was next.  I slowly walk to the bedside and look down at him, then sigh with a faint smile of my own.  “It’s good to see you again, my friend,” I say quietly.

Alphinaud comes up to stand next to me, looking down at him.  “I suppose it’s too much to hope that he’ll simply wake now that we’re here,” he observes.

Y’shtola walks over to him and holds her hands out over him, closing her eyes.  “They were correct when they said he’s in good health,” she murmurs.  “Even the wound he took to his thigh has healed, after all this time.  The question is, where has he gone…?”

“That can be asked of many people,” a new voice says- a heartbreakingly familiar voice.  To my right, Aymeric physically jerks a bit as though he’s been struck, and I can certainly understand the sentiment.  The air distorts on the other side of the bed, a black swirl that signifies the arrival of an Ascian.  Both Y’shtola and Alphinaud draw their weapons, but as soon as Haurchefant materializes, he makes a tsk sound and raises his hands.  All three of them are blasted across the room and pinned to the far wall, leaving me alone to face him across Thancred’s still form.

I grit my teeth and ball my hands into fists.

“You don’t look very happy to see me, my dear,” he says, reaching up and taking off his mask.  He smiles, and I am repulsed- that is not Haurchefant’s smile, warm and inviting.  It’s cold, cruel, malicious… just like all the Ascians.  “I’d hoped for a warmer welcome after introducing myself to you previously.”

What he’s going to get, I think darkly, is a beating- but as I reach for my weapon, he sighs and flicks his hand, and I find myself suspended in mid-air as I had been when the key to Azys Lla had been stolen.  It doesn’t hurt this time, but I can’t move all the same.

He looks down at Thancred, then, and his smile is a mockery of tenderness.  “And here lies the one who got away,” he murmurs.  “A pity Lahabrea wasn’t able to keep it up… if you’ll forgive my crudeness, it’s the best analogy I can come up with.”  He shrugs and spreads his hands helplessly in front of himself, still looking at Thancred.  “This one was certainly useful, however.  The depth of his knowledge is astonishing.”

I struggle against the invisible bonds that hold me, but it’s no use- all I can manage to do is turn and face the others, who are similarly paralyzed.

He walks around the bed, around me, and crosses his arms as he regards the others.  “And what am I to do with you?” he muses.  “You certainly can’t be allowed to continue interfering, and yet in some cases, you’ve been… well.  I suppose somewhat useful is better than not at all.”  He shrugs and walks over to Y’shtola.  “Silver eyes… you are a rare one, aren’t you?”

Y’shtola stares at him, unflinching.  “If all you intend to do is keep us here while you blather on, say your piece and be done with it,” she says coldly.

Haurchefant chuckles.  “Saucy, too,” he says, amused.  “I like a woman with some fire in her veins.”  He lifts a hand and holds it in front of her face, and I struggle more intensely as I see a black aura appearing around it.  With a snap of his fingers, the blackness shoots straight into her eyes, and her back stiffens as she lets out a scream- and then she goes limp against the wall, the only thing holding her up being his magic.

“No!” Alphinaud yells, struggling as well and staring at Haurchefant with his teeth bared.  “You’re a coward, just like the rest of them!  You can’t face us directly, and so you turn instead to torment!”

Haurchefant looks at him thoughtfully.  “We all fight with what we have at our disposal, Master Alphinaud,” he says.  “I should think you of all people would know that better than most… seeing as how your brilliant mind led you to form the Crystal Braves.”

Alphinaud flinches, and my heart breaks for him.

“Of course,” he continues, “not all ideas can be good ones… and that’s hardly your fault.  Your youth blinds you to the realities of this world.”  He turns his attention to Aymeric and walks over to stand in front of him.  “Just ask Ser Aymeric his thoughts on the matter.  Youth and inexperience can lead straight to disaster, left unchecked.”

Aymeric stares at him defiantly.  “If you think that by using the body of someone we cared deeply for you’ve got the upper hand, you are gravely mistaken.”

Haurchefant smiles coldly.  “I think I have the upper hand, at the moment, because… well, it seems I do.”  He glances over his shoulder at me, then looks back at Aymeric and draws a silver dagger.  “Your usefulness has run out, Lord Commander.”

“Kill me if you wish,” Aymeric replies, his voice icy cold.  “My death will change precious little.”

“Oh, but you forget,” Haurchefant taunts.  “You’ve all of Ishgard in your care, not just the Temple Knights.  Pray tell, who will succeed you?  Can you be assured they’ll keep your vow to Midgardsormr?”  He settles the dagger against Aymeric’s throat and presses hard enough that a thin trickle of blood appears from beneath the edge, and sapphire eyes widen when he realizes that Haurchefant is not bluffing.  “I suppose that need not concern you at this point.”

Red-hot rage washes over me and I grit my teeth.  Seeing the blood gives me strength I hadn’t known I possessed, and with a shout, I release it outward.  Whatever is holding me up breaks and I run forward, grabbing Haurchefant’s shoulder and jerking him around to face me- and that startles him badly enough to drop the dagger.  He stares at me, and for one wild second I consider kissing him, but instead I ball my hand into a fist and punch him hard enough to send him reeling.  Even though I know I should, I can’t draw my weapon against him.

He is up faster than I’d have thought and I am blasted backward.  I fall against the bed and hit my head hard on the footboard, and I fall to the floor, dazed.  He deliberately walks over to me, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth, then crouches over me and reaches down.  His hands close around my throat before I can even clear my vision, and I immediately reach up and grip his wrists as he cuts off my ability to breathe.

Something stops him, then- I’ll never know what- and he slowly loosens his grip.  His fingers drift upward, thumbs pausing to rest over the fluttering pulse beneath my jaw, and he studies me… and for a moment, there’s a look of horror in his eyes that I’ve never seen before.  My own eyes widen a little in response, but it’s gone as soon as it appeared and he shakes his head before frowning down at me.

“Are you afraid of me, my dear?” he murmurs.

I know what he wants to hear me say, but I’m not going to.  I’m not afraid of him- if anything, I’m afraid of myself.

He reaches down and touches the side of my head, and his fingers come away wet with blood.  The sight of it seems to startle him, and he quickly stands and shrugs.  “I think I’ve made my point,” he says coolly.  “When next we meet, I will not be as merciful.”  With that, he disappears into thin air… and I look up at the ceiling and watch as it slowly blurs and then fades into blackness.

Chapter Text

In my dream, I see Haurchefant standing on the battlement at Camp Dragonhead.  He is pointing at something in the distance, but try as I might, I can’t make out what it is that he wants me to see.  He looks at me with a sad smile and shakes his head, and when I reach for him, he disappears into thin air- and I am left alone in the blowing snow and freezing cold.

When I wake I find myself in a bed of my own, likely in the same building we’d been in.  My head aches fiercely, and I groan faintly, wondering if I’m going to be sick.  I hear a chair creak next to my bedside and a cool cloth is draped over my forehead.

“Don’t move,” a gentle voice says- Aymeric’s voice.  “You’ve taken a nasty head injury.  A priest has healed the worst of it, but you’ll have a rather impressive headache for awhile, I fear.”

I slowly open my eyes.  Everything is still blurry, even after blinking a couple of times.  I manage to focus on him, sort of, and see a bandage on the side of his neck.  I carefully lift my hand, but he catches it and shakes his head.

“I’m fine,” he says quietly, “thanks to you.  Had you not broken free…” He trails off and bites his lip.  “I owe you a great deal.”

I don’t care about any of that, only that he’s alive, and I smile at him.  I couldn’t stand to lose him- or any of them.  That reminds me about Y’shtola, and I struggle to sit, but he gently holds me down.

“You must rest,” he says, his voice a bit firmer.  I reluctantly obey, relaxing back down into the mattress, and he smiles.  “That’s better.  Honestly, you may be more stubborn than even Estinien.”  He pauses, then sighs and continues.  “Y’shtola is well- she’s resting, and Alphinaud is with her.  I don’t know what the Ascian did, but her eyes are green now, and she has no pupils- she is blind.”

That I knew- the aether had blinded her- but I’m surprised she can’t use it to see anymore… and I wonder what he did to her.  I close my eyes, as getting aggravated is making my head hurt worse.

“Alphinaud is also well,” Aymeric continues, “and he took no wounds… save, I think, to his pride.  He’ll recover, but I fear that barb brought back memories and feelings he would’ve just as soon forgotten.  Master Thancred has not changed.”

I sigh faintly.  We’ve found him, in any case, and that’s still a victory- a minor one, perhaps, but a victory none the less.  I turn my attention to Aymeric himself and open my eyes again.  He should go back to Ishgard- it’s clear that he’s at great risk.

He smiles.  “A soldier is ever at risk,” he points out.  “I’ve spent most of my adult years- and some of my teen as well- on the battlefield.  I’ve been thinking about the Ascian’s words, however… and I think he’s wrong in believing there is nobody to succeed me should I fall.  Lucia will pick up where I left off, and there are many who are loyal to me who will do the same.  I’ve no worries about Ishgard, at least no more than usual.”

I glare at him and shake my head.  He’d seen firsthand what happens to people who fight by my side- he’d nearly died, and would have had I been one heartbeat slower.  At this point I want all of them to stay away, to let me fight this battle on my own.

Aymeric looks back at me calmly, then slowly shakes his head.  “How many times have you been abandoned in the past?” he asks.

I stare at him in surprise.  I don’t know what that has to do with anything, because I’m not expecting it- I’m asking for it.

“And how many times have people done as you’ve asked?” he counters.  He sighs and sits back in his chair.  “When first I met you, I didn’t know what to think,” he says softly.  “Haurchefant had told me of you, had encouraged me to come and meet you for myself.  Any fool with eyes could see how in love with you he was, and at the time, I pitied him- because how, I thought, could Eorzea’s shining hero spare love for any one person?  I thought the worst of you before we even met.”

I blink and slowly shake my head.  That doesn’t upset me, nor does it surprise me.  I’d gone to fairly great lengths to hide my feelings for Haurchefant, not because I didn’t love him, but because I did.

Aymeric smiles faintly.  “I began to believe, however, when I saw the two of you together… and I was sure of it when he came to me that day going on and on about love and poetics.  I saw how fiercely protective of Alphinaud you were, when I was saying things to him that would have cowed any other man- and yet he drew resolve from you.”  He closes his eyes briefly, then continues.  “I’ve watched you risk your life over and over for my people.  I saw you go against the Heaven’s Ward as Tataru’s champion when she couldn’t defend herself against the unjust accusations laid against her, and that’s not even mentioning what Lucia told me you did at the Steps of Faith.  I had intended all along to use you, knowing of your plight, and you did everything I asked without question.”  He pauses, then snorts.  “Well, Alphinaud questioned.  You just… quietly did it.”

My hands are starting to shake a little, and I clasp them to hide it.

“I am here because I want to be,” he says, his voice quiet and fierce.  “How can I allow you to be tormented like this after everything you’ve already suffered?  What kind of friend would it make me to allow you to risk your life over and over for Ishgard and her people and then let you go off alone to face your worst nightmare?  I can’t.  I would’ve fought by your side all along had I been able to do so.  I would have gone to Azys Lla with you and been there when you faced down my father and the horrors he committed in the name of good.”

I see tears sparkling in his eyes, hear them in his voice as it shakes, and I slowly lift one hand to touch his cheek- and when his tears spill over, mine do as well, but I brush his away without care for him seeing the rest.

He says my name softly, then shakes his head and lifts a hand, pressing it over mine.  “Do not ask me to leave your side,” he breathes.  “I won’t.  I won’t ever.”

I am crying in earnest, something I haven’t done since shortly after Haurchefant had died.  Aymeric settles on the bed next to me and puts an arm around me, and I tuck myself against him and let him hold me while I cry.  It doesn’t make it better, but it helps, and that’s really what matters to me most in the moment.  I know they all care about me, but caring about me is a dangerous thing… and I don’t know what kind of friend it makes me allowing them to put themselves in harm’s way to help.

Once I’ve calmed down I lay quietly for a little while, simply not having the strength to move.  I’ve not been this close to anyone since Haurchefant, and I feel a little guilty now for being so… but I’ve found that, as much as I want to be self-sufficient, I am dangerously close to breaking.  Part of me is appalled that I’d let someone be so close, to hold me like this, and the rest is just too tired to fight anymore.  Aymeric is a good man, a good friend, and I know I should be more than thankful for his presence- and I am, when it all comes down to it.  The truth is, I don’t want to lose him, too… and I say that quietly, keeping my face pressed against his shoulder so he can’t see me.

“That makes two of us,” he replies just as quietly, “because I don’t want to lose you, either.”  He tightens his grip on me, and I close my eyes.

I must have drifted off to sleep, because when I gradually become aware of things again, the headache is more or less gone.  I’m also using him as a pillow, which explains why I can hear the calm, steady beat of his heart.  I know I should, but I still don’t want to move- this is more comforting than I can say.  When I finally shift a little and peer up at him I see that he, too, is asleep… and I smile a little before settling back down.  There’s no harm in waiting until he wakes, I think.

When he does, the two of us rise and leave the room without further conversation.  There’s really not much left to say, and I feel quite a bit better just from having had the chance to rest with him.  We walk to the room where Y’shtola is recovering, and I knock lightly before pushing the door open.

Alphinaud looks up from the chair he’s sitting in and smiles warmly.  “Ah, there you are!  It’s good to see you up and about!  How are you feeling?”

I give him a quick smile and a nod.  I feel well enough… mostly thanks to Aymeric, whose words still echo in my mind.  My smile fades a little as I look at Y’shtola, propped up on the pillows and looking towards us, but clearly not seeing us.

“I’m all right,” she says with a wry smile, “but… clearly not going anywhere for a little while.  I don’t know what he did, but my connection with the aether seems far weaker.  I’ll need to journey to Dravania to see Master Matoya before I can be of much more use, I fear- and we’ll need her expertise on how to wake Thancred as well.”  She sighs, shaking her head.  “I’d hoped all the commotion would be enough, as well as the energy that was flung around, but… it seems that whatever makes him who he is, is missing.”

“I’ve seen men in similar conditions,” Aymeric says thoughtfully.  “Not due to teleportation, but injury.  Could he have been wounded since arriving?”

Alphinaud shakes his head.  “His friends here say no,” he replies, “but I had wondered the same.  My only thought is that perhaps he was struck by one of the falling rocks before the spell had a chance to fully take effect.”

“In that case, let me take a look,” Aymeric says with a quick nod.  “I’ll be able to tell one way or the other.  Once we’ve figured that out, we may have a clearer course of action ahead of us.”

Y’shtola nods.  “Either way, I’ve a trip ahead of me, so I’ll prepare for that and be ready to leave once you’ve figured out the state Thancred is in.”

I follow Aymeric back to Thancred’s room, mostly because I’m curious as to what it is he’s going to do.  I settle on the bard’s bedside and watch as Aymeric carefully looks him over, gently opening his eyes and touching his neck- and I have to admit, after a little while, I’m impressed that he knows these things.

“These are the sort of things you pick up during times of war,” Aymeric says quietly, glancing at me with a quick smile.  “I learned- we all did- to assess an injury quickly… and, if necessary, grant mercy over a painful and lingering death.”

My eyes widen at that, and I bite my lip.  I can’t imagine having to do that for anyone- it’s never come to that.  The closest would have been Haurchefant, I suppose, but the wound was bad enough that he only lived a few moments more… and I don’t think I would have been strong enough to do the rest.

Aymeric makes a thoughtful sound and crosses his arms, looking down at Thancred, puzzled.  “Well,” he finally says, “his friends found no evidence of injury on him, but it seems to me this state is out of trauma, not something- else.”  He looks at me and shakes his head.  “I can’t say more than that, and I am certainly no healer, so if they say he is well…” He trails off.

I frown, then jump up and shake my head.  I rush back to Y’shtola’s room and tell her and Alphinaud what Aymeric found, and Y’shtola pauses before reaching out toward me.  I go to her and take her arm, and she smiles.

“Take me to him,” she says.  “I’ll have a look myself.  I’ll admit I didn’t get much of one in the time we found him and we were attacked.”

I lead her back to Thancred’s room, where Aymeric is waiting, and guide her to his bedside.  I take a step back and look at the sleeping bard, then at Y’shtola, wondering what she’ll be able to do.

“I’ll need your help, Ser Aymeric,” she says, and he quickly goes to her side.  “You know how to assess an injury, then?”

“I’ve had some experience,” he replies dryly.  “More than I’d care to, not being a healer myself.”

She glances at him and smiles quickly.  “Of course.  I forget that commanders have to get to where they are in some way, typically through experience.  Now, then… I need you to tell me how or if he reacts to anything I’m doing.”

Alphinaud and I step back so we’re out of the way, and he glances at me nervously.  “I suppose anything’s worth trying at this point,” he says, and I nod in agreement.  He smiles at me.  “You’re recovered from your own wounds, then?”

I nod.  My headache is mostly gone, and that was the worst of it.  I glance warily at the bed frame, seeing the smear of red where I’d hit it, and make a note to clean that off before someone else sees it and panics.

Alphinaud sees my glance and chuckles.  “I’m sure it’ll come out,” he says reassuringly.

I hope so.  I’d hate for someone else to come find respite here only to be sleeping in a blood-stained bed.  That’s undoubtedly an ill omen.

After a few moments, Aymeric makes a surprised sound.  “Whatever you’re doing, it’s working,” he says, and Alphinaud and I rush to the other side of the bed and stare down at Thancred.

After another moment, Thancred shifts ever so slightly and slowly, slowly opens his eyes.  Alphinaud and I both cry out as Aymeric cheers and pats Y’shtola on the shoulder, and Thancred gazes hazily at the ceiling before turning his eyes to the rest of us.

“Here, give him some water,” Aymeric says, carefully lifting Thancred up so he can drink.  I pour a glass from the pitcher on the dresser and then set it to his lips, and he drinks carefully.

“My thanks,” he says, his voice small and weak.  Alphinaud props up the pillows behind him and Aymeric gently settles him against them, and he smiles briefly before closing his eyes again.  “I felt like I was trapped in a dream that I simply couldn’t get out of…”

“You were,” Alphinaud says, shaking his head.  “You’ve been unconscious for months now, Thancred- but you’re all right, thanks to Y’shtola and Ser Aymeric.”

Thancred opens his eyes again and looks up at Aymeric.  “I thought I recognized your voice,” he muses.  “We’ve met in passing, haven’t we?”

Aymeric considers the question, then nods.  “I believe so, before the banquet in Ul’dah,” he replies, “and perhaps at Camp Dragonhead as well.”

Thancred nods slightly and then looks at me, and his smile widens.  “Of course, I needn’t have worried for the Warrior of Light… it is good to see you, my friend- and for once, you aren’t giving me that stoic look of yours.”

I take his hand and squeeze it tight.  I am beyond glad he’s awake and well, and not just because of what he knows- because he is a dear friend, and I have so few of those.

“Well,” he finally says, looking at the others, “what have I missed?”

Y’shtola snorts faintly.  “Other than the ripe opportunity to seduce a whole new country’s worth of women?” she asks, making us all chuckle.  “Let’s see.  The biggest news is that Ishgard has once again joined the Eorzean alliance- and Ser Aymeric, here, is his people’s leader.”

Thancred looks at Aymeric in surprise.  “I thought you were a military leader of some sort,” he says, confused.

“I am,” Aymeric replies, then pauses.  “Technically.  I suppose you can say I’ve been promoted for lack of anyone else to do the job.”  He smiles wryly.  “Ishgard’s caste system is quite complex, and in the absence of the Archbishop, we needed a leader who owes no allegiance to any of the four Great Houses.  I barely meet that requirement due to my long friendship with one of the lords of House Fortemps, but it seems good enough.”

“Ah, yes,” Thancred muses, wincing a bit and putting a hand to his head.  “The gentleman at Camp Dragonhead… an odd fellow, as I recall, but helpful- especially given that he’s the one who helped us acquire an airship- well, you, in my absence last time.”

Alphinaud glances at me, then looks at Thancred and changes the subject.  “So, now all we’ve left to do is find the others,” he says cheerfully.  “We’ve recovered you and Y’shtola, and Tataru is back at our new headquarters- which is, in fact, at Camp Dragonhead.”

Thancred raises an eyebrow at Aymeric.  “You’ve allowed the Scions to take refuge in your country after what happened?”

“Yes,” Aymeric replies, “but all that has been cleared as well, to my knowledge.  I would have regardless, seeing as how the charges were baseless.  The Holy See was happy to allow the Warrior of Light and the Scions into Ishgard once their usefulness was proven.”

I think back to the Steps of Faith and nod slightly.  When it comes down to it, I’ve nearly wound up dead in every state in Eorzea, and I sigh.  One of these days, I think, I’d love to go somewhere and not risk my skin in doing so.

Thancred nods and closes his eyes.  “I’m starving,” he admits.

“Ah!  Let us get you something to eat- and the rest of us as well,” Alphinaud says cheerfully.  “Come, Ser Aymeric, you can help me with that.”

“Of course.”  Aymeric glances at me with a quick smile and leaves the room with Alphinaud, leaving Y’shtola and I alone with Thancred.

Thancred opens his eyes again and studies us.  “Is he really trustworthy?” he asks quietly.  “Ishgard has been notorious for rejecting every offer made to them for entry into the alliance, even when it would benefit them.  Why now?”

Y’shtola sighs.  I help her settle into the chair by Thancred’s bedside and perch on the bed near his legs.  “A good question,” she finally admits.  “I think we can attribute most of it to the Warrior of Light, however.”

I shrug slightly.  That’s probably true, but I don’t think much of myself over it.  I simply did what I had to when I realized how badly they were struggling and how dire their need for aid was.

“You’ve made friends in high places,” Thancred observes.  “That could certainly be useful in the future… seeing as how I doubt we’ve heard the last from our friends in Garlemald.”  He looks at me again.  “There’s something you aren’t telling me, however.”

I look away.

Y’shtola looks toward me, then back at Thancred and shakes her head slightly, signaling him to ask no more on the subject.

Thancred raises an eyebrow, then nods slightly.  “I don’t understand why, having been asleep for this long, I’m still tired,” he grumbles.  “I’m afraid to ask how long it will take until I’m back at full strength, and I am mortally tired of “resting””.

“I would advise you to stop getting yourself into these situations, then,” Y’shtola says, amused.  “Our friend here had to find my half-sister to pull me out of the Lifestream- that’s where I took us both when the Crystal Braves confronted us.”

“The Lifestream?  Have you gone mad?”  Thancred stares at her in shock.

“It was the only alternative I saw at the time,” Y’shtola replies, shaking her head.  “We had to give Minfilia and the Warrior of Light the chance to escape, and we did.  I’ve only been back for a little over a month, now.”

Thancred regards her curiously as I look back at the two of them.  “And unless I miss my guess, you’ve gone blind,” he says.

“Yes,” Y’shtola agrees.  “I was using the aether to augment my vision, but an Ascian attack has temporarily ended that.  I’m going to visit my old master in Sharlyan to see what can be done.”

“Ascians,” Thancred growls, then sighs and lifts a hand to push his hair back- it’s longer, and needs to be cut if he wants it out of his eyes.  “I’d hoped we’d heard the last from those bastards, but apparently that isn’t the case.”

I tell him about how they manipulated the Archbishop- in a way, it was more of a mutual manipulation, at the end- and what befell Lahabrea.  At that, Thancred smiles a small, vicious smile.

“Good.”  He shakes his head.  “I’m surprised he survived what you did to him when you freed me from his grasp… but I’m guessing now he is well and truly gone.”

I pause, then nod slightly.  I hope so, in any case.  It’s hard to say with them, especially given that there was no white auracite involved.

Y’shtola stands and smiles down at Thancred.  “Well,” she says, “it is good to have you back, Thancred- however, we should let you rest.  We’ll come back once the others are back with our supper.”  I rise and lead her out of the room, and when we’re back in hers, she looks at me and nods slightly.  “This part of the story is yours alone to tell,” she says quietly.

I look at her for a long moment, then close my eyes briefly and nod.  He has to know at some point, and I’d rather tell him when it’s just us as opposed to everyone listening in.

He opens his eyes when I come back, and he grins hopefully.  “Surely you aren’t going to make me stay here, are you?”

I can’t help but smile and I sit back down on the bed.  After he eats, I think, we can help him up and see how his strength has fared, but for now he really should be in bed… and I have to tell him the rest.  I bow my head, then draw a breath and tell my part, speaking softly and hoping he doesn’t hear my voice shaking.  He will, of course, being a bard- but I doubt he’ll mention it.

By the end he is staring at me in a mix of horror and pity.  “Gods,” he finally says quietly.  “I-… I don’t know what to say.”

I look up at him and smile faintly.  I don’t really need him to say anything… just having listened is good enough.

He closes his eyes briefly, then opens them and looks away.  “Loving someone is hard,” he says, his voice slightly rough, “and losing them is the hardest thing yet.”  He takes a moment, then looks back at me.  “And now, the Ascians are using him against you?”

I nod, and tell him my theory as to why, exactly, that is- and he nods in agreement.

“I think you’re right.”  He sighs and shakes his head, and his eyes fall closed again before opening slowly.  “I wish I remembered more, but most of my possession involved Lahabrea manipulating the Empire and using me against all of you.  I saw one or two others, perhaps, but they never stayed long or said much… likely, I think, because Lahabrea knew I was still there.  He’d taunt me sometimes, just for fun.  I learned to ignore him.”  He quiets for a moment, then speaks softly.  “Once everyone is back and we’ve eaten, I’ll tell you everything I can.  It may not be enough, but if it can put an end to this mockery sooner… so much the better.”

I slowly take his hand and give it a gentle squeeze, and he squeezes back.  I hate having to do this to him, and I hate the Ascians all the more for forcing my hand, but I am feeling far calmer, far more in control now.

They’ve much to pay for, and I am rapidly coming up with a plan that will not only keep my loved ones safe, but force them into an impossible situation.  I’ve no intention of breaking, no intention of falling apart…

… at least not until all of this is over.

Chapter Text

My dreams that night make little sense.  I dream of rescuing Thancred from Lahabrea, which makes sense given the topic of conversation that evening, but somewhere along the line, Thancred turns into Haurchefant.  He reaches for me, but there’s a wall of flames between us, and I can’t reach him.  I cry out, calling for him, and I run into the fire without any thought for the consequences… and then I’m falling, and all that’s waiting for me are more flames.

I wake suddenly, sitting bolt upright, and I realize my forehead is sore.  I blink and frown, then look over with a gasp when I realize I’m not alone in the room.  Aymeric is holding his hands to his nose, and he smiles when he sees I’m awake… but there’s blood dripping from his chin, and I wince.

“I’m just fine,” he says reassuringly.  “I was more worried about you.  I ran here when I heard you screaming.”

The door opens quickly and Alphinaud runs in, disheveled and clad only in a pair of soft trousers.  “By the Twelve- are you all right?”  He takes one look at Aymeric and rushes to the washroom, then comes back with a cold cloth and hands it to him.

I draw my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them, peering at both of them from behind a curtain of hair.  I, too, need a haircut, it seems… but right now it’s affording me bit of protection that I don’t want to give up.  I mumble something about a nightmare, and apologize- again- to Aymeric.

Aymeric smiles and waves one hand in the air.  “I’ve taken far worse,” he says reassuringly, but his voice sounds thick and the cloth at his nose is turning crimson.  “Better to know there’s not an Ascian in here, I think.”

“Come, let’s get you to Y’shtola,” Alphinaud says, shaking his head.  “Your nose is broken.”

Aymeric lets Alphinaud lead him out and I flop back onto the pillows, putting my hands over my face.  I know I’m not going to be able to rest until something’s done about all of this.  I lay still for a moment before rising and arming myself.  There’s somewhere I want to go, and now that everyone’s distracted seems to be a good time to do so.  I write a quick note and put it on my bed, then close my eyes briefly and reach for the aether.

I reappear in the Shroud, and I am glad to see it’s still not close to sunrise.  Everyone in the camp I’ve teleported to is asleep, or most of them- the Gods’ Bow guards are vigilant, but only a few civilians are up and about.  I’m able to get out of the encampment and be on my way with no further issues.

My destination is the spring where Haurchefant and I had retreated what feels like ages ago, shortly before he’d been killed.  It’s no less magical at night than it had been during the day, and I slowly walk to the shore before settling down in the soft grass.  I close my eyes and tip my head back… and I wait.

I sense him approaching more than hear his footsteps, but I do not turn to look at him.  He crouches down behind me and puts his hands on my arms, and his breath is warm on my ear when he whispers to me.

“I’m surprised you’re here alone, my dear… it makes you seem vulnerable.”  He chuckles quietly, though, and shakes his head.  “I know better than to assume such a thing.”

I close my eyes.  When I can’t see him, it’s as if nothing has changed… his touch is still gentle, his voice is warm and full of affection.  He even smells the same, like cedar and woodsmoke and something unique to him.

He settles down behind me, one leg on either side, and gently drapes his arms around me.  I could get away very easily if I wanted to, and he knows it- it shows in how casual he is, how careless with the way he moves.  “Well?” he murmurs.  “What brings you here?”

I pause, then shake my head slightly.  I don’t know, honestly, but I do want to know one thing, and so I ask him: why?

“Ah, a loaded question,” he murmurs.  He rests his cheek against my hair, fingertips gently drawing up the side of my neck.  “You’ve become too powerful, my dear, and the balance between dark and light must ever be maintained.  Lahabrea became overzealous and threatened to tip the balance the other direction.  I am here to… convince you, as it were.”

I glance back, tipping my chin towards him, and glare a little.  The Ascians don’t want to convince me of anything, they want to torture me until I give them what they want.  I’m not stupid- and I’m not going to fall for it.

He laughs softly.  “No, you’re not,” he agrees.  “I should think, though… that you’d be vested in this as well.  I am here because, again, there must needs be balance- light against dark, love against hate.  Both are opposite sides of the same coin.”

Angry, I turn to face him.  He isn’t wearing his mask, and he’s smiling… but there’s something wrong about the expression, something ever so slightly off.  I want to ask him what he thinks he knows about it, what he plans on doing, but instead I lift my hands to the front of his robes and rip them open.

His expression turns to one of surprise, then he smirks.  “My, my,” he murmurs.  “I suppose, if this is what you want, I can oblige… I’m quite certain none of my colleagues can claim to have bedded the Warrior of Light.”

The thought sickens me.  I look from his face to his chest, and, unsurprisingly, the bandages wrapped around it.  Before he can stop me, I tear them away, too…

… and then I wonder if I’ll ever be able to stop screaming.

What finally stops me is someone yelling my name, and I jerk awake with a gasp.  I am back in my room in Limsa Lominsa, and Aymeric is straddling my legs and holding my arms tight.  Panicked, I flail and try to fight him, but he has the upper hand and uses his weight to pin me down.

“You’re safe, it was a dream!” he says firmly.  “Listen to me- focus on my voice!”

I do, and I manage to slowly calm down- sort of.  I am a shaking, sobbing mess by then, and once Aymeric is certain I’m no longer a threat he quickly releases me and gathers me into his arms.  The door bursts open to admit Alphinaud and Thancred, both of whom rush to the bed, and I am struck dizzy with a sense of deja vu- except Thancred hadn’t been there last time, and Aymeric’s nose was broken.

I pull back and stare at him, reach up to touch his face, and he shakes his head, confused.

“I’m well,” he says soothingly.  “This is the first time I’ve been in here.  I was up early and heard you cry out, and I feared you were being attacked.”  He lets go and I shake my head, putting my face in my hands.

Thancred gently rubs my shoulder.  “Can you tell us what you saw?” he asks quietly.  “Was it the Echo?”

I shake my head vehemently.  It wasn’t the Echo, that’s for certain… it was likely my own mind playing tricks on me.  Still, I draw a shaky breath and tell them about the first nightmare, how I woke to find Aymeric with his nose broken thanks to my hitting him when he leaned over me, and then how I left to go to the Shroud.  Now that I’m telling the story, I can’t remember why I’d wanted to go or what I thought I’d accomplish.  I hesitate before telling them about how he found me there, and what he’d said about things remaining balanced.

I leave the rest out, and they don’t ask further.

Thancred is quiet and thoughtful when I’m done, and the other two just don’t seem to know what to say.  “It seems to me they’ve gone on about balance this entire time,” he finally says slowly, “and to use Lord Haurchefant against you like this… well, as he said, it’s a balance between love and hate.  They’re assuming you won’t be able to act when it comes right down to it, due to your feelings for him.”

I’ve known all along that was the plan, but hearing Thancred say it just solidifies it.  There is nothing the Ascians won’t stoop to, and my hands clench into fists on my lap.  I’m going to have to be able to be one step ahead of them, and right now I think I know exactly what it is they’re after.

I look up and nod slightly.  We have to leave for Ishgard as soon as possible- we have to find Nidhogg before they do.  Out of everyone who’s missing, he’s going to be the easiest to find… and I just hope that his burning hatred for mankind will keep the Ascians from gaining access to him too quickly.

Alphinaud is quiet for a few moments.  “Y’shtola can’t help- she needs to get to Matoya’s Cave.  Thancred isn’t in any shape to go, either- and I’ve already told Y’shtola that I’ll aid her as long as she needs me.  That leaves you and Ser Aymeric to do this alone.”

I look at Aymeric, and he nods.  “I’ve no issues with that,” he says calmly.

“I do!”  Thancred is shaking his head.  “I’m perfectly capable of being up and about.  Aside from being a little tired, I’m fine.”

“You’ve been unconscious for the better half of a year!”  Alphinaud is staring at him in disbelief.  “How, pray tell, does that make you fine?”

Thancred shakes his head.  “It just does, and you’ll have to take my word on the matter.”

Aymeric shifts a little.  “I see no problem with Master Thancred accompanying us… so long as he knows his own limits.”  He looks at Thancred and nods.  “Assuming you’re willing to hide when we tell you to, or when you feel like you can’t keep up.”

“I’m well aware,” Thancred replies with a firm nod.  “There’s no reason for you to be concerned.”  He pauses, then his tell-tale grin reappears.  “Besides, you never know when I could come in handy.”

I smile faintly.  I’ll be glad to have Thancred with us- despite appearances and his every effort to prove otherwise, he is frighteningly intelligent… and sometimes I wonder if he isn’t the one who’s more than he appears to be.

Alphinaud doesn’t look happy with this development, but he shrugs and nods.  “Very well,” he says.  “We should all be off, then- and with luck, Y’shtola and I will be able to catch up with you.”

A little while later we have all said our goodbyes, and I turn to Thancred and Aymeric with a nod.  I am more than ready to get moving.

“Let us first return to Foundation,” Aymeric says.  “We can pick up whatever supplies we’ll need there, and that will give me time to ask around and see if there have been any reports on Nidhogg’s activity.  We can’t assume he’s back at the Aery, though that may well be the case- we’ll have to see how things play out.”

“And you’re confident your scouts will have returned with new information in the time you’ve been gone?” Thancred asks doubtfully.  “How long has it been since anyone has seen this beast?”

Aymeric pauses.  “It isn’t that I’m confident therein,” he finally says slowly, “but any chance greater than zero is a chance worth pursuing, and I’ve had them looking for Nidhogg for quite some time.  If the Ascians reach him before we do, we believe there’s a very good chance they’ll simply kill him outright, thus ending any hope of us having Estinien returned.”  He looks at Thancred with a wry smile.  “Ishgardians are born with a healthy dose of pessimism, Master Thancred- it often does one good to try and seek out positive news in the midst of negativity.”

“Only if you find it,” Thancred mutters, but he shrugs and nods.  “Very well, I’m not against the idea, and I’d like to see the city for myself.”  He looks at me and grins.  “You can be my tour guide!”

I sigh, but smile and shrug helplessly.  That actually sounds rather good to me- thinking of something else, and spending time with a good friend I haven’t seen in a long time.  Thancred is so full of random knowledge that I’ve no doubt he’ll distract me from my worries.

“Consider it a date,” Thancred continues, hooking his arm through mine and winking.  “I promise I’ve only the best of intentions.”

That earns him a bewildered stare, but I can’t help but laugh, and Aymeric chuckles as well.  Thancred has never shown an ounce of interest in me, and I don’t necessarily see him starting now… he’s just trying to cheer me up- and it’s working.  I can’t resist the urge to nettle him about the fact that I’m fairly the opposite of his usual choice of partner, and he shrugs, smile widening.

“A man can change his mind, can’t he?” he asks.  “Let’s be off- I’m eager to explore this new country of yours.”

When we arrive in Foundation, Aymeric heads off in the direction of the Congregation, and I look at Thancred with a faint smile.  He’s looking around in vague awe.  The city really is quite marvelous, I think, perhaps even more so due to the scars it’s suffered thanks to the constant dragon attacks.

A voice calling my name distracts me and I turn, then smile and wave when I see Artoriel de Fortemps walking toward us.  He looks quite a bit different wearing his armor- taller, more confident.  Thancred turns as well, and Artoriel nods to him and then looks at me, concerned.  “I’m glad you’re back,” he says.  “We’ve had some ill tidings around Camp Dragonhead- I was just about to go speak with Ser Aymeric on the subject.”  He looks at Thancred and smiles quickly.  “You must be a friend of theirs.”

“Thancred, at your service,” Thancred replies with a slight nod.  “Proud member of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn.”

At that, Artoriel looks relieved.  “Full glad am I to hear it,” he says fervently.  “Come, I’ll fill you all in on the subject at the same time.”

The three of us head back to the Congregation and find Aymeric in conversation with Lucia, but he immediately looks up- and his expression becomes a bit concerned when he sees Artoriel.  “Lucia was just filling me in on some of what’s happened,” he says.  “Is everything all right?”

Artoriel nods, but he looks uneasy.  “For the moment.  The knights at Camp Dragonhead welcomed me warmly and I’ve no concern therein, but… well, as I’m sure Lucia has told you, there’ve been sightings of- strange things.  Lights in the wood when there is nobody about, strange voices on the wind, and the sound of wings- hundreds of thousands of them, one night.”

Lucia looks at Aymeric and nods.  “That’s when I first heard of the trouble,” she says.  “Lord Artoriel sent a knight to Foundation to request aid, and the knight said it sounded like all the dragons in Dravania were set to attack the city… but when we called the alarm, there was simply nothing in the skies.  Some are saying…” She glances at me, then at Aymeric.  “Some are saying the camp is haunted.”

I press my lips into a thin line, but before I can say anything, Aymeric shakes his head.  “That is absolutely ridiculous,” he says firmly.  “Nobody who knew Lord Haurchefant would ever think him responsible for such a thing.  If anything, he would be playing pranks, not making everyone panic for their lives.”

No, I think… but the Ascian using him could very well be.

“I agree,” Artoriel replies, “as does most of the camp, but… there are still whispers floating around- especially now that word has spread regarding what happened with his grave.”

Aymeric pinches the bridge of his nose.  “That is my fault,” he mutters.  “I wish I’d had the good sense not to order the place guarded.”  He drops his hand and sighs, then looks at Artoriel and shakes his head.  “Forgive me, Artoriel- I’ve caused more problems for you than I’ve solved since putting you in command, I fear.”

Artoriel smiles faintly.  “You’ve nothing to apologize for, Ser Aymeric.  I’m honored to be where I am.  I’m simply concerned as to how we’re planning on moving forward from here.”

“That’s why we’re here,” Thancred says with a quick nod.  “You can rest assured that we’ll find an answer to… whatever this is.”  He looks at Aymeric and raises an eyebrow.  “Does Ishgard have any enemies other than the dragons?”

Aymeric shakes his head.  “There are scattered beast tribes and such, just like in the rest of Eorzea, but I doubt any of them are organized- or willing- enough to do something like this.  We’ve had our issues with primals, but the Warrior of Light has handled that, and…” He trails off, thinking hard.  “Well, there’s the heretics, but… unless something new has developed therein, I think Lady Iceheart put a sufficient end to that particular conflict.”

Thancred looks at me, then back at Aymeric.  “Do you have any enemies?”

“Watch yourself,” Lucia says in a warning tone, and Aymeric lifts a hand to calm her.

“It’s a reasonable question,” he replies, “and yes, I’m sure I do.  I can’t have made it this far without angering some, and there are many who believe I shouldn’t be where I am because I am bastard-born.”

Thancred looks briefly bewildered.  “What’s that got to do with anything?”

Aymeric blinks, then gives him a warm smile.  “A question I often ask myself,” he says, and I can tell that of the things Thancred could potentially hold against him, his birth won’t be one of them- and to him, that’s a relief.  “Unfortunately, being born a bastard in Ishgard is a black mark against you from the start.”

“I see.”  Thancred looks puzzled, then turns his attention to Artoriel.  “And you?”

Artoriel shakes his head.  “None aside from House Dzaemel, and that seems… superficial more than anything,” he says.  “Besides, my brother had no enemies at all- at least that I know of, given that he’s of the same birth as Ser Aymeric- and so I can’t imagine anyone framing him for such a thing.”

Thancred sighs faintly, clearly having hoped for more information, then turns to me.  “Let’s go see for ourselves,” he says.  “Nothing like a good haunting to get one’s blood up.”

I nod and look at Aymeric, who nods as well.  “I’ll meet you at Camp Dragonhead once I’m finished here,” he says.  “Hopefully, I’ll have good news to bring.”

Thancred and I teleport to Camp Dragonhead as opposed to wasting time looking around the city, which I can tell disappoints him- but at the same time, now that he’s got a mystery to sink his teeth into, he seems very happy indeed.  Once we’re in the camp, he looks at me with a faint smile.  “You’ll have to forgive me,” he says.  “It must seem like I’m being unnecessarily hard on your friend.”

I pause.  Thancred has seemed suspicious of Aymeric, but at the same time, he hasn’t had the chance to get to know him that I have- and Ishgard returning to the Alliance based on my actions seems to be bothering him.  I think, however, his suspicion is at least somewhat merited, and I shake my head.  I want him to find out Aymeric’s worth on his own, not based on what I or anyone else thinks.

“Good.”  Thancred gives me a quick smile.  “Come, then!  Let us see if we can’t find some evidence of ghosts… or, perhaps, the people setting us up to believe such a thing.”

The people of Camp Dragonhead know me well and are forthcoming with the information they have, which is more or less what we’ve already heard from Artoriel.  The latest seems to be a commotion coming from the cellars, but when investigated, there’s nothing there.  This seems to truly catch Thancred’s interest, because when he looks at me after hearing about it, the look in his eyes reminds me of a child at a festival.

“Now this is something we can start with,” he says triumphantly.

The steward leads us to the cellar doors and gestures, but he looks nervous.  “Please, do be careful,” he says.  “I know not what’s going on here, but I don’t want to see you hurt because of it.”

I give him a reassuring smile.  So far there’s been very little I can’t handle.  He hurries off as Thancred opens the door, and the two of us walk into the hallway and close it behind us.  I hold up a lantern- there are torches along the walls, but they’re not lit- and we head downstairs.

The first thing I notice is that it feels cold- being a cellar, it should, I think- but there’s something a little bit off about it.  Thancred is moving slowly and carefully, reminding me of a prowling cat, and he slips one of his knives out of its sheath as we progress.

“Do you hear that?” he asks quietly- it’s a steady dripping sound.

I nod and draw my own weapon, but I have a sinking feeling that whatever it is isn’t something we can attack.  The hair on the back of my neck stands straight up as we begin to descend the stairs.  I have never been one to fear the dark, but I am fervently glad of Thancred’s presence by my side.

The staircase is narrow and winding, and despite the frigid cold air, I can smell blood- and so can Thancred.  We are both tense as we head further down, and I hold the lantern up to the darkness-

- and immediately wish I hadn’t.

“Isn’t this lovely,” Thancred mutters, putting a hand over his mouth.  “How in the name of the Twelve would anyone say there’s nothing here?”

I wonder, absently, if I’m going to be sick.

Suspended from the ceiling, tied by his ankles and his wrists, is a House Fortemps knight with a wound not unlike the one that killed Haurchefant… but where the lance had burned through him and had mercifully made the amount of blood minimal, whatever weapon was used here was not at all the same.

I remember my nightmare and turn away, pressing my hands and face to the cool, unbloodied stone.  Deep, even breaths…

Thancred puts his hand on my shoulder.  “Go back upstairs,” he says softly.  “I’ll look into this myself.”

I grit my teeth and shake my head, pulling myself together out of sheer willpower.  No, I have to be stronger than this… and so I force myself to turn back.

The two of us walk the rest of the way down the stairs and into the cellar proper.  There is blood everywhere, which tells me that a good deal of torture went on before this poor man had died- but as Thancred had pointed out, how could anyone have missed seeing this?

I take another step forward and gasp, putting my hands to my head, as the Echo takes me with a force I’ve rarely experienced.

Something is dragging the knight down the stairs, but he can’t move- he can’t scream.  There are people in robes all around him chanting in a language that he doesn’t understand, and he can’t reach his sword.

They suspend the knight in mid-air and the chanting grows louder.  Two cultists come forward and unbuckle his breastplate.  He still can’t scream, can’t fight back, and when they begin to slice into him all he can do is squeeze his eyes shut and pray for this to end quickly.

It doesn’t.

I come back to myself with another gasp and hurry to the stairs, and I’m halfway up them before Thancred catches up with me, calling my name.

“What did you see?” he demands, gripping my arms gently.

I choke on a sob and tell him.  I know who did this- the heretics- but not how or why… at least, not until I have a moment to think about it.

By the time I’ve finished my story there are footsteps clattering down the stairs.  “What’s happened?” Artoriel demands. “I just arrived and was told you’d gone to investigate a commotion… dear gods.”  He trails off when he sees the wreck of the cellar.

“I think we may have answers to at least a couple of the lingering questions,” Thancred says grimly.  “What the scene doesn’t provide, the Echo will fill in.”

“How could this have happened with nobody seeing anything?” Artoriel shakes his head in disbelief.  I tell him what I saw, about how the knight in question was paralyzed and silenced, and he frowns sharply.

Thancred looks at the scene again.  “I’d say this is more of a statement than a cry for attention,” he says slowly.  “In fact, I’d be willing to bet quite a bit on that.  This is most certainly a warning.”

Artoriel looks at me again.  “And the cultists you saw… you think they were the same heretics you encountered in your journeys?”

I nod slowly.  The robes had looked the same, and though none of them had transformed, it seems highly likely that this is the case… and that leads me to one conclusion, one that sends a rush of anticipation through me.

This is Nidhogg’s doing, ultimately.

Chapter Text

There’s a flurry of activity after our grisly discovery, and I find myself sitting upstairs in the main room where Haurchefant had done most of his work- where Artoriel does, now.  Artoriel is handling things efficiently and confidently, and I smile a little as I watch him.  It’s very good that he’s getting this chance, I think- he deserves it.  Personality-wise he isn’t much like Haurchefant, but occasionally, he’ll take on an expression that looks similar enough to wrap a fist around my heart.  The rest of the time, it seems, he favors his mother more than his father- and Haurchefant looked a great deal like Count Edmond, I thought.

“As horrifying as that was, I do think it gave us a good idea of what’s coming next,” Thancred says quietly, looking toward the stairs.  “The problem is, there’s no real trail to follow.”

I cross my arms and consider the evidence.  What will tell us the most is where the man was taken from, I think… but how they managed to get him downstairs without someone seeing something is the true mystery.

Thancred nods thoughtfully.  “That may not be much of a mystery at all, in the end… I noticed a door in the back of the cellar- so if there’s outside access, that’s likely how they got him inside.”  He rises and paces a few steps away, then turns back.  “Not having Alphinaud and Y’shtola puts us at a disadvantage, but I’m betting with a little help from Lord Artoriel’s men, we can have this solved.  I don’t believe this is going to be the last incident, not now that the point has been made.”

I agree with him, and I nod slightly.  The problem is, now that they have our attention, I’m not so sure that the next attack- or warning, or however it’s being put- will take place at Camp Dragonhead.  In fact, it seems like it would make more sense for it not to, thus forcing us to chase them down a bloody path through Ishgard until we find them.

Thancred sighs.  “You’re probably right,” he says, “which means… either we stay ahead of them- if we can get that way in the first place- or we end up led by the nose until we end up where they want us… and I don’t much like that idea.”  He frowns thoughtfully- it looks to me like he’s onto something, so I stay quiet- and when he speaks, he sounds cautiously optimistic.  “Then again… you came here first, right?”  When I nod, he continues.  “If there’s to be a pattern here, my guess is that the attacks will take place in a line following your path through Ishgard.  The Azure Dragoon was with you for much of it, was he not?”

I bite my lip, then nod.  Every now and then I’ll remember something he said that made me laugh- usually something acidic towards someone or something he found annoying- and the memory brings a twist to my chest.  I realize, then, that we hadn’t told Thancred much of anything about him, and so I fill him in.  By the time I’m done, he’s chuckling quietly.

“Sounds like my sort of friend,” he says, amused.  “Once this business is done with, I’d like to visit an alehouse with him.”  He gives me his trademark charming smile, and I can’t help but smile back.

Aymeric joins us a little while later, looking harried and annoyed.  Those are not expressions I’m used to seeing on his face, and that makes me truly concerned.  “Artoriel sent a messenger to tell me what happened here,” he said, “but I was in a meeting and the message was delayed.  What happened?”

Though I’m sure the messenger had given a clear account, I give Aymeric my own, knowing that’s what he’d prefer.  He glances toward the cellar stairs and then back at Thancred and I.  “I suppose I should be shocked,” he finally says, “but after everything else, I simply can’t be.”  Something flickers across his face, then, a fleeting expression that I’m not quick enough to catch… but it looks something like regret.

Thancred puts a hand on his hip, gesturing with the other as he is wont to do.  “While we were waiting, our friend here told me of Nidhogg and the Azure Dragoon.  I think it’s probable that the next attack is going to be in the next place the two visited as they first traveled together.”

Aymeric’s brows come together sharply, but he nods.  “A good thought, and one I agree with,” he says.  “It’s better than having no lead at all.”  He looks at me, then, and smiles briefly.  “So- where was your next stop?”

I think about it, then nod slightly.  It’d be Falcon’s Nest, most likely… a place I first went with Artoriel, what feels like a lifetime ago.  Still, something about this whole thing is hitting me wrong, and I clench my fists.  I don’t want to be led around by the nose, especially when there are innocent lives involved- and it’s with that in mind that I insist we leave things to Artoriel and leave immediately.

When we arrive in Falcon’s Nest, it’s to a large commotion in the main square.  Aymeric curses softly and leads the way, and we run towards a group of people gathered in a circle.

“Make way for Ser Aymeric!” one of the knights yells when he sees Aymeric, and, startled, the people step aside.  I notice then that Aymeric has dressed himself in his elaborate armor- what I’m used to seeing him in- and I understand why.  In Ishgard, there’s no reason for him to travel in secret, as his true identity will undoubtedly prove more useful.

In the center of the ring of people is a charred corpse.  He gazes down at it, then looks at the commander grimly.  “What’s happened here?”

“My lord,” the commander says, saluting him crisply.  “The body was dropped from the sky approximately ten minutes ago.  We’re trying to figure out… well, to be frank, we’re trying to figure out who it is- and from there, we’ll give them a proper burial.”

Aymeric glances at the knights in the circle.  “Clear the area,” he says firmly.  “This poor person deserves better than to be gawked at.”

As the knights rush to do his bidding, I slowly walk forward and crouch down next to the body.  It’s certainly a gruesome sight, and I’m quite sure this, too, will appear in my nightmares- but it’s something I feel I need to see.  This person likely lost their life to get my attention.  I rise and stare up at the sky, jaw set.

If it’s my attention Nidhogg and his brood wants, they have it.

Thancred appears to my left, then crouches and peers at the corpse.  “Well,” he finally says, “I’m certainly no expert on such things, but wouldn’t it stand to reason that if this poor soul faced dragon fire, it would be in far worse shape?”

“You’re not wrong,” the commander agrees, and Aymeric nods as well.  “Either it was a glancing hit and the body was dropped here by accident, or else someone took a torch to them.”

That thought makes me feel sick, but I force myself to kneel and look for evidence of restraint.  The body is fairly badly charred, but sure enough, the worst of the damage is at the feet- and it works its way up.

Aymeric sees me waver and quickly moves to support me, but his attention is on the commander.  “See to it that you do figure out who this is- and if not, as you said, a proper burial is in order.  I want the guard here doubled, and see to it that if anything else out of the ordinary happens, Lucia is informed promptly.”

The commander salutes him and dispatches a knight to relay Aymeric’s order to double the guard, then walks away to fetch the healer to see if some of the damage can be repaired.  I turn my attention to Thancred, who nods slightly, and then slowly stand with Aymeric’s help.  Tailfeather is next.

Nothing seems amiss when we arrive, which is a relief.  Aymeric is quick to order the guard increased, but he turns back to us with a slight shake of his head.  “My authority here is not as great as it is in Ishgard proper,” he says reluctantly.  “The knights will listen to me because of who I am, but they either owe allegiance to one of the Noble Houses or simply to whomever is in charge at the outpost- and the further into Dravania we go, the fewer knights we’ll find.”

Thancred shrugs and looks at me.  “Well, that means we’re on our own,” he says.  He grins and winks.  “We’ve handled worse, haven’t we?  Never fear, my friend.  Come, let’s nose around and see what we can discover.”

I nod and walk to the gates of the city, peering out into the forest.  Dravania is certainly a beautiful place, if not still a bit colder than I like being.  Nothing seems out of the ordinary at all, and that could be what’s set me on edge.  I take my time speaking to the hunters I’d gotten to know the last time I was there, and none of them have anything unusual to report.  Frustrated, I return to Aymeric, who’s waiting by the Aetheryte in the middle of town.

He sighs, but doesn’t seem particularly surprised at the revelation.  “I suppose now we wait,” he says, and then pauses and looks at me thoughtfully.  “Or… we go to the Aery itself and see if aught has changed.  There was nothing among the reports I read, but I admit I didn’t take my time with them as I was eager to be off.”

I hesitate.  I don’t know that I want to leave this area- there will be another attack, of that I have no doubt.

“I know, and I believe Master Thancred’s theory is correct,” Aymeric says softly, “but… what good will it do if we aren’t able to stop them?  It may be inevitable, and going to the Aery may be our best solution.”

The problem, I think, is the Ascians.  It always seems to come back to them.  I scowl briefly, then look at Aymeric and bite my lip.  He’s spent most of his life in battle and certainly knows tactics and such better than I can claim to… but if I listen to him, that means more innocent people will die.  Then again, as he’s pointed out, we may not be able to stop it regardless, especially given that the poor soul that died at Falcon’s Nest was carried in from elsewhere.  I reach up and rub my forehead.

Aymeric smiles reassuringly at me.  “I know it’s a great deal to consider… and I know the choice isn’t easy- nor is there a right answer.”

I look at him again and shake my head.  There must be a right answer, and if I don’t find it, I’m throwing away the lives of people who have nothing to do with this.

He’s quiet for a minute, then gestures for me to walk with him.  We head to the outskirts of town and he looks at the river, thinking about what he can say to me that will ease my burden.  The problem is, there’s nothing- he knows it, I know it, and there’s little point in trying.  He looks at me again, finally, and smiles wanly.  “Long ago, I asked Alphinaud what sort of man he thought became Lord Commander of the Temple Knights,” he says softly.  “I told him the truth, but only part of it.  The rest lies in my ability to make difficult decisions, and do so quickly.  The problem therein is that no matter what path I choose, there will be some loss of life as a result.  I do what I can to minimize it, but there’s no avoiding it.”  He looks up at the sky.  “By going to confront my father, I put all of you at risk.  Was that the best choice I could have made?  It was the only one that felt right in my heart, and yet because of that, Lord Haurchefant was killed, and now here we are.”

The knife in my chest that’s been present since he died twists a little, and I close my eyes.  I still don’t blame Aymeric for what happened, though I know he blames himself for putting Haurchefant in that position at all- us coming to rescue him lead up to that.

Aymeric turns to face me, then, looking at me with a soft expression in his eyes that I haven’t seen much of since that awful day and the few days following it, where it seemed like all I could do was grieve… and he grieved with me.  “There is no right or wrong in these situations,” he says.  “All we can do is what feels right.  If you’d rather try to prevent these attacks, we can certainly do so- and if you want to try to head them off, we can do that as well.  We may fail regardless of which path you choose, but that’s a risk I am willing to take.”

I think his words over, then slowly nod and look him in the eye.  I want to do as he’s suggested- our path, I think, should take us to the Aery next.  I’m horrified and saddened at the loss of life that’s already occurred, but if he’s right, we’ll be able to cut it off at the pass before it gets worse.  That has to mean something, in the end.  The Ascians are still on my mind, however, and I close my eyes briefly before sharing my suspicions with Aymeric.

“They’ll follow us no matter where we go,” he agrees.  “We simply have to be ready for them… though, given my one confrontation with one of them, I fear I’ll be rather useless.”

I smile, a wry twist of my lips.  I wasn’t exactly useful either, not until I’d realized that unless I did something, I was going to end up watching Aymeric die.  He still has a bandage on his neck from the knife that the Ascian wielded.

Thancred joins us again a moment later, shaking his head.  “Nothing of use has come up,” he says, shrugging.  “It seems we’ve beaten them here- a bit of good fortune, I’d say.”

Aymeric nods.  “It is, and if we’re fast enough, we may be able to stop the rest,” he says.  “It’s possible that Nidhogg has resumed his residence in the Aery, and if that’s the case, we can confront him directly.  If he’s simply trying to get our attention, he has it- and he knows that we know where to find him.”

“That’s a risky gamble,” Thancred says warily.  He looks at me, concerned.  “There’s no way for us to be everywhere, of course- but I don’t know that I like the idea of leaving here when we’ve a good idea of what’s coming.”

“Nor do we,” Aymeric replies, shaking his head, “but we’ve no guarantee that if we stay here we’ll be able to stop what’s coming- and no guarantee there will even be an attack here, now that we’ve beaten them to the post.”

Thancred looks at me and I nod, and he sighs.  “I suppose you have a point,” he says, “and we were hoping to get ahead of them.  Have we any thoughts on what we’ll do if the Aery is a dead end?”

I hesitate.  I don’t have any plans if the Aery is a dead end, other than chasing more corpses across all of Ishgard and Dravania.  I look at Thancred and try to muster up an encouraging smile, but it falls flat.  If it’s a dead end, I think, I do have another option- but Aymeric and Thancred will have to stay behind, and I don’t know if I can convince them to do so.

Aymeric smiles and shrugs.  “Let us rather assume that the Aery isn’t a dead end,” he says, looking at me again.  “Do you think you’ll be able to do as Hraesvalgar bid you?”

I nod.  That, at least, I’m fairly certain of.  If I can stun the wyrm and take his eye- the one Estinien always carried- the spell will be broken.  The trick is going to be stunning him senseless without simply killing him.  What I don’t know, and what Hraesvalgar warned me about, is how strong Nidhogg will be with both his eyes.  I’ve felled many foes, and I know my way around the battlefield, so this doesn’t concern me too much… save the fact that I’ll be pulling many of my blows to spare Estinien’s life, and Nidhogg willl be trying in earnest to kill me.

It doesn’t sound like a good prospect either way, if I’m honest with myself.

“Let’s go, then,” Thancred says with a quick nod.  “We’ll use Cid’s mana cutters and see what we’re able to find out.”

The Churning Mists is somewhat of a disorienting place, and I’m not especially happy to be back as we fly toward the Aery.  The floating islands both here and the Sea of Clouds give me an unpleasant sense of vertigo.  As I recall, however, Haurchefant had seemed perfectly at home when he’d come to help me rescue Emmanellain, and I smile a little at the memory.  Not much fazed him, in the end… and my heart aches when I think of him.  I force them away, to the task at hand, and grit my teeth.  I have to assume he’ll be there when I attack Nidhogg… and I have to assume he’s not going to be helping me.  My foremost worry is for Estinien, and then for Aymeric and Thancred.  I must figure something out to keep them all alive.

As we approach the Aery, I look at it with a suspicious eye.  Not much seems to have changed, when one comes right down to it, and we land at the entrance without incident.  I look around and frown, wondering what it is that I’m smelling, and then it hits me and I grimace, quickly pulling out a cloth and holding it to my nose and mouth.

Having done the same, Aymeric looks forward grimly.  “This is certainly an ill omen,” he murmurs.  “The smell of a battlefield days after the conflict has passed… it’s unpleasant, to say the least.”

I had hoped the killing would have been limited to baiting me, but this… this is completely different, and perhaps why there was no attack at Tailfeather.  I draw a slow breath and start forward, praying that we are not too late.  If the Ascians have beaten me here, Estinien’s chances of survival are incredibly low… and I don’t know how I’ll be able to look Aymeric in the eye again, not after having promised to bring him home- and this time, it will be my fault that he’s gone.

Please, I pray, wondering if anyone is listening at all.  I pause, then let it remain at that.  I can’t think of anything else to say, and I barely know what I’m pleading for.

Please, let Estinien be all right.

Please, give me the courage to keep fighting, to not let them beat me like this.

Please… let Haurchefant go.

Chapter Text

Walking through the Aery in its current state is disturbing.  We keep the cloths pressed to our noses and mouths, though that doesn’t help much when we get close to one of the many piles of corpses.  Aymeric stops at the first and stares at it in a mixture of horror and disgust, then shakes his head.

“This did not happen after the Ascian approached you,” he says quietly.  “These bodies have begun to rot.  I’d say they’ve been here at least two days if not more.”

I nod slowly.  My best guess is that it happened while the Ascian occupying Haurchefant’s form approached me.  I clench my jaw when I think about it, and my hands instinctively ball into fists.  It seems my fears were founded- I have been led by the nose thus far.

Thancred takes a step forward, gazing balefully at the pile.  “I would suggest burning them, if not for fear of taking this entire place down with them.”  He turns to Aymeric.  “How hard is it to kill a dragon?”

“Hard,” Aymeric replies grimly.  “Very hard.  Even the smaller ones are difficult for a group of just a few men.  Dragoons tend to have less trouble with them, as that’s their specific focal point.”  He glances at me, then looks back at Thancred.  “When the Warrior of Light first defended Ishgard, ’twas against a giant wyrm called Vishap.  He walked up the Steps of Faith toward Foundation, intent on tearing down our wards and removing the shield around the city.  There were several squads of knights fighting, and many of them lost their lives.  Were it not for our friend here, Foundation would have fallen that day and we would not be having this discussion.  Nidhogg is far, far worse than Vishap.”

Thancred nods slowly, then looks at me with a quick smile.  “Ever the one to save the day,” he says, and I smile a little behind my cloth.  “So these piles, then…”

I nod.  The Ascians could certainly do this, especially if there were more than one of them.  After witnessing the power Lahabrea wielded with the woman he fought beside before King Thordan lay him low, I can’t imagine that even Nidhogg would be much of a match against, say, five or six of those.  I do not know who- or what- the Ascian possessing Haurchefant is.

“Let’s hurry,” Thancred says simply, and it’s a testament to how worried he is that he doesn’t give the corpses any further thought.

We walk through the ruin of Nidhogg’s lair, now splattered with blood and other things I don’t particularly want to dwell upon.  Whoever did this was brutal about it.  I look around as we walk up the steps toward where Estinien and I had first faced Nidhogg, and it is as I expected it to be- empty.

Aymeric takes a couple of slow steps into the main part of the lair and looks around.  “Well,” he says quietly, “now it looks like we’ve no choice but to wait.”

I’m not sure what we’re waiting for, honestly.  I step forward as well and look around, and a sudden sense of foreboding suddenly grips me.  I grab Aymeric’s arm and haul him backwards just in time for an Ascian to appear before us- and this one, I recognize.  I immediately put myself between my friends and him, and I snarl his name- Elidibus.

The Ascian ambassador smirks a little, though the expression is mostly hidden behind his mask.  “Such a welcoming face,” he says.  His voice is smooth as glass- it irritates me just to hear him speak.  Behind me I hear Aymeric and Thancred both draw their weapons, and Elidibus lifts his hands.  “Tell your friends to sheathe their weapons, Warrior of Light.  I’d hate to have a repeat of the last time we met.”

My fingers are itching for my own weapon, but I look back at the others and nod curtly before looking back at the Ascian.  He stands in the middle of the room, seemingly unaffected at the carnage and gore all around.  That doesn’t surprise me- Ascians have a very low opinion of living beings, it seems… and if this is their handiwork, then it strikes me as telling that he doesn’t seem to notice it.

“That’s better.”  Elidibus crosses his arms for a moment, then sighs and shrugs.  “I’m sure you’re wondering what has brought us here.  Some of my colleagues thought you wouldn’t be smart enough to come straight to the Aery, given that there’s been no sign of Nidhogg’s presence here.  Indeed… he hasn’t been.”

“What do you want with him?” Aymeric asks, his voice hard.  “He’s nothing that should concern beings such as you.”

Elidibus turns his attention to Aymeric and smiles.  “Ah, but he is, Lord Commander.  I’m interested in anyone and everyone whom the Warrior of Light calls ‘friend’, and I am well aware of whose body the dragon is currently making use of- despite his current form.”

Aymeric curses and takes a step forward and I immediately hold my arm out to keep him from moving any further, shooting him a look that tells him to keep his peace.  He glances of me, then turns his gaze back to Elidibus, jaw clenched tight.  “Again, I’ll ask you: what do you want with him?”

“I think the Warrior of Light can answer that question for you better than I can.”  Elidibus shrugs and tilts his head slightly.  “Surely you’ve figured it out by now, haven’t you?  Come, don’t give me that look!  We’ve returned to life the man you called ‘beloved’.  Isn’t that something to be thankful for?”

This time, it’s Aymeric who holds me back, grabbing my arm and holding tight.  “Don’t let him bait you,” he says quietly, though his voice is shaking with rage.  “That is undoubtedly what he’s trying to do.”

Thancred takes a step forward as well, spreading his hands and sighing.  “Listen, Elidi-whoever you are, all of this is really quite boring.  If you could get to the point, I’m sure we’d all be thankful.”  His voice holds an edge as well, but he’s more in control of his anger than Aymeric is- likely more than I am as well.

Elidibus ignores Thancred completely, his gaze focused squarely on me.  “As the ambassador, I have certain… privileges that the others do not,” he says thoughtfully.  “I wondered if you’d be interested in making a trade.”

All at once, I know why we’re here- I know why all of the dragons are dead.  My stomach clenches as the air in front of Elidibus warps into a strange pattern, and a body drops to the ground as the rift closes.  It’s Estinien, either unconscious or dead.  Even though I’ve never seen him out of his armor, I know exactly who it is.  I take a step forward, shaking Aymeric’s hand off my arm.

Elidibus smiles.  “Do you see?  We are not so cruel as to be entirely unfair.  Your friends are few, Warrior of Light, and we’ve restored another one of them for you- though admittedly, it took quite a bit of doing.  Dragons do have a nasty habit of resisting any command given to them by someone in a man’s body.  That is an unfortunate limitation I had when dealing with Nidhogg.  Suffice it to say that wrym will trouble you no longer.”

My attention is on Estinien, crumpled at Elidibus’ feet.  I don’t realize that someone is behind me until Aymeric lets out a shout, but when I turn, it’s too late.  Elidibus is smirking at me, and next to him now is Haurchefant, holding Aymeric’s arms.

“Do try not to struggle,” Haurchefant says to Aymeric, whose expression is a mixture of fury and helplessness.  “I’d hate to have to kill you right here, although as I recall, that should have happened when last we met.”  He looks at me from over Aymeric’s shoulder- he’s at least half a head taller, giving him the advantage- and smiles mockingly.  “You’re in no position to save the day this time, my dear, so I advise you to listen to Elidibus instead of recklessly charging forward.”

“This is the first of the choices I will offer you,” Elidibus says, his smile back in place as though nothing had happened.  “I’ll even give you assurance that whichever one you leave in our care won’t be killed… at least, not yet.  I have to say, though, it seems your dragoon friend here is not in the best of shape.  He may die even if you choose to take him with you instead of the Lord Commander.”

My throat tightens, and my eyes burn with tears that I refuse to allow to fall.  Thancred’s hand is now tight on my arm, offering what support he can- and making sure I do as Haurchefant bid me.  If I rush forward, both of their lives are forfeit, and yet how can I choose?

Elidibus crosses his arms.  “Make your decision quickly, Warrior of Light,” he says, dragging out my title as though to emphasize my helplessness.  “Both their lives hang in the balance.”

I see the game he’s playing at.  With Estinien near death- or so he says- I should rightly pick Aymeric… thus resting Estinien’s eventual demise squarely on my shoulders.  There will be no way of saying that his death wasn’t my fault.  With this move, he’s ripping one of my strongest supporters from my side and giving me someone who will be unable to fight.

I look at Aymeric, anguished.  He meets my gaze, then his expression softens into a smile.  He nods slightly, and I close my eyes before looking back at Elidibus.

“Very good,” Elidibus says, clearly beyond pleased with himself.  “As I said, the Lord Commander won’t be killed.”  He pauses, then glances at Aymeric and Haurchefant before looking back at me with a light smile- and Aymeric lets out a howl of pain as Haurchefant stabs him in the outer thigh, his magicked knife going straight through the armor he wears.  Not a fatal injury, but certainly a painful one, and Thancred has to grab both my arms to keep me back.  “I can’t guarantee he won’t be harmed, however, so I do hope you find our next meeting place soon.  Think hard, Warrior of Light… otherwise we’ll be forced to start leaving you clues again.”

Elidibus, Haruchefant, and Aymeric all vanish into the rift that opens behind them, and before I can do anything, it disappears entirely.

I feel sick.  I want to collapse to the ground and dissolve into sobs- but I can’t.  Thancred lets me go and we both run to Estinien’s side, and I carefully roll him onto his back and say his name- but he doesn’t respond.

Thancred reaches down and touches his neck, then nods once.  “He’s alive,” he says.  “Come, let’s get him back to the city quickly!”  He carefully lifts him up and I reach for the aether.  The scenery around me blurs, and I close my eyes tight, feeling the heat of tears on my cheeks as I teleport us back to Foundation.

There’s a flurry of activity when we bring Estinien to the healers, and they shoo us out of the way so they can do their work without us hovering.  I walk to the end of the hallway and stare blankly out the window.  I don’t know what to do next- wait for Estinien to wake?  Find Lucia and tell her what’s happened?  Should I even tell her at all, or should I let her continue to think that Aymeric is traveling with me?”

I lift a hand to cover my mouth.  Part of me feels numb, the rest just feels sick.

Thancred walks up behind me and says my name quietly, resting a hand on my shoulder.  “I’m sorry,” he finally says quietly.

I close my eyes, then open them and turn to him, smiling a little.  I have to try to put a positive spin on things- we do have Estinien back, though I fear to even think about what kind of condition he’s in.

“If you like, we can go to where Y’shtola and Alphinaud are,” he continues.  “It’s possible that Y’shtola will be able to rejoin us soon.”

I shake my head firmly.  Y’shtola and Alphinaud are far safer with Matoya than they would be with me.  Honestly, more than anything, I want Thancred to go join them.

He smiles and shrugs.  “I’ve no reason to be anywhere else,” he says.  “The Ascians don’t scare me.”  His voice falters ever so slightly, and I know he is lying… and that hurts more than anything else, in this particular moment.  He is frightened, and rightly so.

The two of us stand there in silence for a little while, then one of the healers walks over to us and smiles.  “Thank the Light you got the Azure Dragoon to us as quickly as you did,” she says happily.  “He’s whole and well, though weak- he won’t be able to journey with you.  He’s asleep now, but he’ll want to see you when he wakes, which should be soon.  Feel free to sit with him and rest awhile.”

Thancred and I hurry to his bedside, though after a few moments, Thancred quietly excuses himself and disappears out the door.  I’ve few worries about him here in Foundation.  I close my eyes, tucking myself deeper into the armchair that the healers have put by the bed, and the next thing I know a familiar, rough voice is saying my name.

I open my eyes and see Estinien looking at me with a faint smile.  “Well, well,” he rasps, “look who decided to re-join the waking world.”

I smile, though tears prickle at my eyelids again, and I take his hand.  That’s quite a thing for someone in his condition to say, I think.

He makes a soft sound that’s probably a chuckle.  “True.  I’m hardly one to talk.”  He grimaces and stretches, then looks up at the ceiling.  “My memory from the past little while is spotty at best.  You’ll have to fill me in on what I missed after Nidhogg- ....” He cuts off there, and I don’t blame him for it.

I squeeze his hand.  I don’t know what had happened to him either, if I’m honest- I’d heard Nidhogg’s voice, or so I thought, and then Estinien had screamed… and when I’d realized what was happening, Nidhogg himself was flying away and the Azure Dragoon was gone.  Midgardsormr had explained it to me on the way back from Azys Lla.

“So, how long has it been?” Estinien asks abruptly.  When I tell him, he curses quietly and lifts a hand to his face, then pushes his hair back and grimaces.  “Aymeric’s never going to let me live this one down, I’m sure,” he grumbles.  “Where is he, anyway?  I’m surprised he’s not here waiting to give me hell.”

My throat tightens and I bow my head.  Estinien grips my hand hard and stares at me, aghast.

“Don’t tell me he’s-!”

I shake my head quickly and fill him in on what had happened, from my conversation with Hraesvalgar up to the confrontation with the Ascians in the Aery.  Estinien stares at me in disbelief, then slowly turns his gaze up to the ceiling.

“I remember… men robed in black,” he says slowly, “but I thought they were heretics.  Most of the time, I was just… well, floating.  I wasn’t truly anywhere.”  He looks at me again, alarmed.  “Where is the Eye?”

I pause, then shake my head again.  I don’t know.

Estinien swears and closes his eyes, then opens them and stares at the ceiling again.  “So long as Nidhogg truly is dead this time, I suppose we don’t need to consider it,” he finally says gruffly.  “My plan was to hide them away so nobody would ever find them and take the risk- as well as the burden- that I carried all along.”  His lips twist into a grimace.  “I let my guard down at the worst possible moment.  My possession was entirely my own fault.”

Hesitantly, I give his hand a squeeze, and when he looks at me I smile faintly.  It’s not bad to dream of solace… and after everything he’s been through, especially now, I think he’s earned it.

He sighs.  “I suppose,” he says.  “I will retain my post, of course- I’ve no doubt there will be rogue dragons even beyond my lifetime.”  He looks at me and nods.  “Besides, you’ll need me when it comes time to recover Aymeric.”

I shake my head firmly.  The only place he’s going to be is right here, recovering from everything he’s just been through- I’m not planning on letting Aymeric linger as long as it will take Estinien to recover.  I just have to figure out where Elidibus wants me to go next, before the ‘clues’ begin.

Estinien glares at me halfheartedly, then sighs again and shrugs.  “You’re probably not wrong,” he mutters.  “I’m too weak to be of much use now, much as it vexes me to admit it.”

I smile at him and squeeze his hand again.  Before he knows it he’ll be up and about again, and the two of us can journey together wherever he likes- I owe him that much, at least.  For now, however, I have something else I have to do.  I rise and bid him a quick recovery, and while Thancred is distracted and I am alone, I reach for the aether.  I know where Haurchefant will be waiting for me- the spring, the same place I’d dreamed of him being before.

The sun is setting now, and I’m in no particular rush as I walk through the forest.  I’m prepared for whatever I may have to face, and I have to keep my focus on that as opposed to letting my anger get the best of me.  The Ascians think they have an advantage, and they well might, but I’m not going to let them know that if I can help it.  Aymeric’s absence is a knife in my chest, however, and I close my eyes briefly.

He never would have let me come here alone.

Still, this is a path only I can walk, it seems- and I will find a way, somehow.  I always have, and I always will… though after all of this is over, I’m sorely tempted to just go hide somewhere for a long while and pretend the world doesn’t exist.

I feel like I’ve earned it.

The stars are out by the time I get to the spring, and just like in my dream, I sit down on the grassy bank and look out over the water.  I’m confident that he’ll be here, even if this isn’t the place Elidibus had in mind- this Ascian clearly has access to Haurchefant’s memories, which gives me a small, wild hope that perhaps he is still in there somewhere, perhaps he truly can be saved.  More than that, however, the Ascians want to torment me, and I honestly can’t think of a better way for them to do so at the moment.  Luckily for me and unluckily for them, I am not in the mood to be tormented, nor taken advantage of.

I hear soft footsteps behind me.  “Well, well, my dear,” he says, his voice soft and silky, “I didn’t expect you to come here, of all places… then again, where else would we have the guarantee of privacy?”

Just like in the dream, he settles down behind me, his chest at my back with both legs on either side of mine.  He leans forward and rests his hands on my thighs, and I have to struggle with myself to stay still and composed.  He’s just answered a question I’d had a sneaking suspicion of all along- they’re watching my every move.  If I can continue to be calm, it’s possible I can get the meeting place out of him without having to struggle.

I’m reasonably sure he won’t kill me, and though it makes me feel a little queasy to do so, I lean back against him.  When I can’t see him, I can pretend nothing has changed.  His hands move from my thighs as he lightly wraps his arms around me.

“That’s more like it,” he murmurs.  “You see, this doesn’t have to be painful- it doesn’t have to be a struggle.”

I look up at the stars and the leaves between us and them.  Would he have respected me as much, I wonder, had I given in when things became difficult?  It’s not even a question in my mind- he would have been disappointed.  This is not the Haurchefant I knew and loved.

He sighs softly, breath warm against my neck.  “Perhaps you and I could simply disappear,” he muses.  “We could find a place where nobody can find either of us.”

That’s a little surprising, and I tilt my head slightly.  This isn’t Haurchefant, I remind myself, but…

The Ascian makes a soft sound that might be irritation or might be a small laugh.  “I know what you’re thinking.  There’s more of him in me than there is me in him, at this point… so struggled Lahabrea, when he possessed your friend.  Not even the greatest among us can block all the thoughts and desires.”

That, I think, works in my advantage.  If he wants to be here with me, that means he isn’t tormenting Aymeric.  I pause, then shift and turn so I’m kneeling and facing him.  He keeps his arms looped around my waist.  I hesitate, then reach up and lightly touch his temple, next to his right eye.

He hums softly and smiles.  It’s not his smile, but it’s closer than I’ve seen yet.  “You want to know if you can save him,” he murmurs.  “My dear, that isn’t what this is about.  As I told you in your dream- don’t look so shocked!- there must be balance in all things.”

I frown at him.  What good does it do, then, to torture Aymeric?  What balance is he throwing off?

“He’s one of your closest friends,” he points out.  “Even closer, I think, than Master Alphinaud, who’s certainly known you longer.  This is how war works.  Did Haurchefant not tell you the things he saw when he was afield?”

My frown deepens.  He hadn’t, as it happens, but he had nightmares on occasion- and he never told me what they were about, not really.  I’d left the subject alone and focused on calming him.

The Ascian smirks a little.  “He didn’t want to upset you.  How very valiant of him.  You know he was terribly young when he became a soldier, I’m sure… barely a man grown.  He was around Alphinaud’s age- and the Elezen age far slower than the rest of you- when he was allowed to enlist.”  He pauses, then reaches up and cups my face.  “How old were you, my dear, when first you killed someone?”

I flinch away from his touch, and from the memory.

“I’ve seen through your lover’s eyes for quite a little while now,” the Ascian continues.  “I saw the rage in you when you realized who’d struck him down.  How did it feel, I wonder, to have your revenge…?  Was it worth it?”

I quickly pull away from him and stand, hands clenching involuntarily.

He chuckles softly and looks up at me, then stands himself, spreading his hands.  “You’ve never been back, have you?  I’ve no doubt you’ll never willingly go there again, once our business is concluded.”

I take another step back, disgusted- but inwardly, I am cheering.  I have my answer, I know where we’re to meet next.  The place I lost him- the place where I may yet have the chance to have him back.

The Vault.

He smirks at me, and before I can react he reaches out and grabs my arms, pulling me close- then his lips are crushed against mine, and I feel my energy draining out of me.

“Get some rest, my dear,” he murmurs, lips inches from my ear as he speaks.  “You’re going to need all your strength.”

With that, he disappears and I am left alone.  I drop to my knees and cover my face with my hands, and for a moment- just a moment- I let myself sob.

The end, however, is in sight… now all I have to do is put one foot in front of the other until I get there.

Chapter Text

Every moment I hesitate is another moment the Ascians have to torment Aymeric, and so I waste no time getting back to Ishgard.  The thought of going back into the Vault yet again makes me sick, but I know I have no choice- if this is to be the next stop, then I have to face it.  As I walk in, however, the memories threaten to rise up and choke me.

This is just a place, I tell myself.  What happened here is in the past.  The past is where it is.

I wish I could really, truly believe that.  I close my eyes briefly, remembering the way the spear had shot through the air, remembering his warning shout and how he’d jumped in front of me- how he’d given his life for mine.

This time, however, instead of letting that cause me grief, I let it give me strength.  He gave his life for me so that I could continue on, because he knew then- he’d known all along- how important my mission was… and, much as I hate to admit it, even to myself, there is nobody else who can take my place.

It occurs to me, when I’m walking up the stairs toward the arena in which I battled the last member of the Heaven’s Ward, that this might very well be a trap.  There’s no way for me to escape, at this point- the only way out is straight down to my death on the pavestones, and I’ve no intention of going out like that.

I sigh faintly to myself.  I wouldn’t be terribly surprised if it were a trap, but it seems so obvious that I doubt the Ascians would insult themselves by trying.

I stop in the middle of the arena and look around.  Nothing seems immediately out of place, and it’s a couple more steps forward until something glinting on the ground catches my attention.  I kneel down and look at it, then gasp and pick it up.  Just like I’d found one of Haurchefant’s ear clasps in the underground of Ul’dah, so now is one of Aymeric’s here waiting for me.

This time, when the Echo comes, I give myself over to it entirely.

The room is small and lit by a single torch.  Aymeric is chained to the wall, stripped of his armor, wearing only his trousers.  He’s obviously been beaten, though you wouldn’t know it from the defiant look in his eyes, the way he sets his jaw as he looks straight ahead.  He chose this path knowing full well what it would entail for him- a bit of suffering on his part was worth Estinien’s life.  He would never be convinced otherwise. 

The door swings open, then, and in walk Elidibus and the Ascian possessing Haurchefant.  Aymeric presses his lips together, sapphire eyes narrowing.

“Oh, do relax, Lord Commander,” Elidibus says, lifting a hand and making a dismissive gesture.  “It’s not like we’re beating you to get information out of you.  I’ve no need for that.  This is all a show we’re putting on.”

“Don’t include me in this as though I have a say in the matter,” Aymeric snaps.  “I was glad to take Estinien’s place with the hope of saving his life.  All of us understood my reasoning.”

“All?”  Elidibus smiles, but it’s a cold, nasty expression.  “I wonder about that, Ser Aymeric.  As it stands, the Warrior of Light seemed to have a difficult time with it.  In essence, this was your choice.  You forced the warrior’s hand.”

Aymeric’s mouth twists.  “Nay.  You may tell yourself that as much as you wish, but the Warrior of Light is nobody’s fool.  The choice was obviously not a choice at all.  Don’t ply me with platitudes, Ascian- I see what you’re playing at.”

“Do you?”  Elidibus spreads his hands.  “Please, do enlighten me.  I’d very much enjoy hearing what exactly you think it is that we have in mind.”

Aymeric doesn’t answer him, his gaze instead going to Haurchefant.  The Ascian is leaning back against the wall, arms crossed.  “You couldn’t be less like him if you tried,” he says scornfully.

Haurchefant smiles and shrugs.  “I’m not trying,” he replies.  “As I’m sure I’ll have the opportunity to speak with the Warrior of Light anon- given the memories this unfortunate knight holds- I’ll tell you the same thing I’m planning on telling the warrior.  When Lahabrea possessed the Scion, Thancred, he too struggled a bit with maintaining his own identity.  It was far more difficult for him, as Thancred was alive at the time of his possession.  In my case, I simply bear witness to thoughts, emotions, and memories as opposed to having to wrench his mind into submission.  It takes a bit of time for the soul to leave the body after it dies, did you know that?”  He smirks, and Aymeric’s scowl deepens.  “I’ve no need to pretend, because most of it comes naturally, and I don’t mind.  It can be useful at times, and entertaining at others.”

“You have no business seeing those things,” Aymeric snarls, pulling at his chains though he knows he isn’t going anywhere.

“Maybe not,” the Ascian agrees, “but here we are, Lord Commander… and our dear Haurchefant was quite fond of you as well, did you know that?  You were one of the men he trusted above all.”

Aymeric stills, but his expression is still venomous.  “This I knew,” he says quietly, “and nothing you tell me will twist my opinion of him.  Lord Haurchefant was a wonderful man, and I’ve no doubt I’ll never see his like again.  The fact that you are using his body for this is clever, I’ll give you that… but no matter what you see, what you spy on, you will never be able to change the love we all bore him.”

I’m left reeling when the Echo fades, my head in my hands.  I know I’m not far, now.  I force myself up and the headache slowly dissipates, and I set my jaw and head up the stairs toward the airship landing.

I nearly falter when it comes into view, but I draw a breath and let it out slowly.  It makes perfect sense that they’d choose here for a confrontation- it’s the one place in all of Eorzea that has the possibility to knock me off-balance simply by virtue of being what it is.  It’s deserted, but I know exactly what I’m to do, and I close my eyes before opening them, setting my jaw, and walking forward.

As expected, when I reach the spot where Haurchefant had leapt in front of me and saved my life, I sense a presence behind me.  I face away for a few more heartbeats, mostly out of defiance- but, I have to admit to myself that I’m a little afraid as well.  Elidibus had promised Aymeric wouldn’t be killed while they had him, but that doesn’t necessarily extend to now, when I have the chance to get him back.

Behind me is, as I’d expected, the Ascian who’s been using Haurchefant against me this whole time.  He’s alone on the stone walkway, but I see Elidibus and Aymeric on the platform where Ser Zephirin threw the spear that took my beloved’s life- and half of my own.  A strange sort of calm settles over me, and I have the strangest feeling that someone is behind me with their hands on my shoulders.  I smile a little and close my eyes, then open them again and look at the Ascian.

“Well, my dear,” he says with a faint smile of his own, “here we are.  I do hope you don’t mind the location we’ve chosen.”

I stare him down for a few seconds, and then slowly shake my head.  They already know I’m unsettled- there’s no need to verify that for them.  I turn my gaze to Aymeric, then back to the Ascian, and my hands clench into fists.

He glances over his shoulder, and his smile widens as he looks back at me.  “You were worried about Ser Aymeric?  A promise is a promise!  He’s just fine… for now.”  He shrugs.  “Of course, you’ll have to go through me to get him back… and I’ve no idea what Elidibus has planned.  You know how he is.”

I do, unfortunately.  He’s the type to play both sides against the middle, to hide behind a veneer of diplomacy in order to keep his true intentions guarded.

“I have one more offer to make you,” the Ascian continues, smiling charmingly- it’s a disturbing expression because it’s so close to Haurchefant’s actual smile, but something is missing… something important.  “Well, I suppose I already made it.  Lay down your weapons, and we can leave this place far behind.”

The wind picks up, but it’s oddly gentle for Ishgard- and oddly warm.  I glance off to my left, then look down at the stones beneath my feet before lifting my gaze to the Ascian’s.

I draw my weapon and put one foot behind me, balancing lightly.

I will never give up.

A flash of disappointment crosses the Ascian’s face, and he sighs.  “Very well,” he says, and he slowly puts on the red mask that obscures his face- and a rush of adrenaline shoots through me.  He’s sealed his own fate by putting that mask on.  It’s far easier to simply see him as one of my faceless adversaries now, and I won’t hold back.

In my experience, most Ascians tend to fight with magic as opposed to physical weapons, but this one creates a sword out of thin air and charges me.  I can’t imagine why he’s giving me so many advantages- does he honestly think Haurchefant and I never sparred?  Does he think I didn’t pay close attention when we fought side by side, that I didn’t learn at least some of his style of swordplay?

If that’s the case, he’s sorely mistaken, and I’m going to give him cause to regret all of it.

Fighting him becomes somewhat of a dance, both of us agile and strong.  The narrow path makes things a bit more difficult, with the only way to win an advantage being to push forward.  Too far to one side or the other and that will be the end of it, and so I guard both my sides carefully, fighting more defensively than I usually do.

I’m concentrating so intently that I very nearly miss the warning shout from behind me, and I rush forward, shouldering past him and dropping into a roll before leaping back to my feet and spinning to face him.  Another Ascian stands there now, this one wearing a gray mask- and Haurchefant is nowhere to be seen.  I grit my teeth and charge forward, hand gripping my weapon tight.  Of course, I think, they have reinforcements- why wouldn’t they?

The gray-masked Ascian falls quickly, however, which tells me that they’re either a distraction or just fodder, and I spin around again to face Aymeric and Elidibus.  Haurchefant stands with them now, and I grit my teeth.  If I attack them, they’ll use Aymeric as a shield, and I can’t take that risk.

Elidibus crosses his arms and nods, and Haurchefant disappears, reappearing several paces in front of me- with Aymeric, this time.  I grit my teeth and take a step forward.

“Here,” the Ascian says, shoving him toward me with a smirk.  “He’s unnecessary, at this point.”

I curse silently.  They have made my job far harder.  Aymeric stumbles and manages to make it to my side, but he’s crouching and unable to stand.  I now have to split my attention, making sure I protect him from the gray-masked Ascians- not to mention the one in front of us- as well as keeping myself alive.  I reach down and touch Aymeric’s shoulder, and he looks up at me with a quick nod.  He’s all right, though disarmed and wearing the button-up shirt and trousers he wears beneath his armor.  I wonder absently where that ended up.  He’s not going to be of any help, however, and I close my eyes briefly.

“You can still take me up on my offer, you know,” the Ascian says, spreading his hands as if in a gesture of peace.  “I shan’t withdraw it.”

I give him a level stare and shake my head.

He sighs and looks at Aymeric, shrugging.  “How do you put up with such a stubborn person?”

Aymeric doesn’t answer, instead looking up at me.  It’s clear he has faith that I can win, but he also knows that he may die here- and I may die with him.  Either way, he seems peaceful, and that gives me strength.

The battle resumes again, and as I’d expected, this time it’s much more difficult.  I am able to ward off the gray-masked Ascians without too much trouble, but they seem endless, and I am only one person.  I am panting by the time Haurchefant attacks me again, but I force myself to continue onward.  There won’t be anything gained- and much lost- if I can’t defeat him.

It’s not until he teleports behind me that I realize I have an opening.  His attention is on Aymeric, and he’s clearly intending on dealing him a death blow, which will force me to leap in front of him to prevent it- the same way Haurchefant had died defending me.  

This time, I tell myself, things will be different.

I do leap in front of Aymeric, but I don’t have a shield with which to defend myself.  All I can do is counterattack, and I do, meeting his attack with one of my own-

and for a long moment, we are at a stalemate-

but my attack proves stronger, and it breaks his apart and hits him square in the chest, sending him flying backwards.

He hits the pavement hard, bouncing once and coming to land on his stomach.  I close my eyes and call upon the blessing of Light inside of me, removing my last piece of white auracite from my bags.  I fling it into the air over the Ascian’s limp form and darkness begins to swirl around it, and I hear a voice I don’t recognize howling in anger.

I grit my teeth, knowing I have no power at my disposal save my own, and I call upon all of it.

For a few heartbeats I’m not sure if it’s enough, and I can rapidly feel myself weakening, but the voice screams in fury and agony as the auracite becomes impossibly bright- and it shatters shortly thereafter.

In the silence that follows, all I hear is the sound of the wind… the same warm, gentle wind I’d felt before the battle began.

“Very clever, Warrior of Light,” says a voice from off to my right, and I turn to see Elidibus floating in mid-air.  He looks angry, and I realize that all pretense of diplomacy is about to be dropped- and I’m beyond exhaustion at this point.  He points at me, then.  “You have one final choice to make.”

Cracks begin to appear in the pavestones in front of me, and I shout a curse at him, fling my weapon at him- for all the good that does.  He laughs, a cold, cruel sound, and disappears.

On the other side of the cracks, Haurchefant is struggling weakly to push himself up.  He lifts his head and looks at me, and my heart nearly stops- it’s him, it’s not an Ascian and not a trick-

However—

The walkway is beginning to shake, and now I have one final choice, as Elidibus had said…

Either I save Haurchefant, and Aymeric dies-

or I save Aymeric and lose Haurchefant all over again.

In the end, it isn’t a choice at all.  I spread my arms and close my eyes, summoning the very last of my power.  I feel myself lifting from the walkway, and I pray I can hold it together long enough.

I hear Aymeric shout Haurchefant’s name as he forces himself up and forward, see Haurchefant hold a hand out to him… and then everything abruptly vanishes, and all I can see is blackness- and I feel myself falling into it.

I feel peaceful for the first time in a very long time, and I smile to myself.

When I find myself waking up, it’s with no small amount of surprise.  I’d thought for sure I’d died.  I draw a slow breath and let it out, then open my eyes carefully and find myself staring up at the ceiling in my room in House Fortemps.

“So, you’re awake at last,” a familiar, gruff voice says from my bedside.  I look over and smile a little to see Estinien sitting there, ankle resting on the opposite knee, still out of his armor.  He looks tired, but none the worse for wear.  “To hear Aymeric tell it, you may as well have single-handedly saved Foundation- again.”

I smile.  I don’t think it was anything quite that spectacular.  My smile disappears as I try to push myself up, suddenly frantic with worry for them, and Estinien quickly reaches out and pushes me back down.

“None of that,” he says firmly.  “You’ll actually rest this time.”  He shakes his head, sitting back again.  “I don’t envy Haurchefant, dealing with someone as stubborn as you.”  There’s a note of fondness in his voice to take the sting of his words away, and I look at him intently.  He nods.  “Yes, Haurchefant is alive.  He hasn’t woken up, but Aymeric swears up and down it’s actually him, and I believe him.  I’ve never really seen him cry before.”

I lift a hand and put it over my eyes, feeling tears welling up.  I don’t know how this could have happened, I don’t know how I managed to not only survive but win back my beloved… and I don’t know what the future could possibly hold for us now.

Estinien is quiet for a moment, and then he continues.  “The Scions have been in and out, worried sick- I finally shooed them off so you’d be able to sleep without being bothered.  Your friend Y’shtola healed Aymeric’s wounds and Haurchefant’s as well- and yours.  She’s managed to land in a bed, exhausted, as well.  Never have I seen a group of people push themselves as hard as you.”  He pauses, then smirks.  “You should all become dragoons.”

I smile a little.  I’m already uncertain as to when I’ll be leaving Ishgard- if ever, given that I have Haurchefant back.  I pause, then ask after Aymeric.

“He’s supposed to be resting as well,” Estinien replies, “but I doubt very much that he is.  I’ll go fetch him for you.”  He stands and pauses, then smiles faintly at me.  “Full glad am I that you’re well, after all that.”

I am too, and I’ll eventually come to terms with the fact that I have no idea how I ended up being well.

Aymeric comes in a little while later, a mixture of concern and relief on his face.  “You’re awake,” he says with a bright smile.  He hurries over and sits down in the chair Estinien had abandoned, then leans forward a little.  “How are you faring?”

I pause, then answer him honestly- I’m confused, but relieved… and more than glad this entire nightmare seems to be at an end.  What I truly want to know, other than how he’s doing, is how we’re all safe and sound.

He smiles gently.  “I’m fine,” he replies.  “Y’shtola healed me, as I’m sure Estinien told you.  As soon as I was convinced you weren’t on the brink of death, I sent one of my knights to find Master Thancred, who went to get the others immediately.  I was not badly wounded, I promise.”

I frown.  I saw the Ascian stab him in the thigh- how is that ’not badly wounded’?

“Oh, that.”  He pauses, then shrugs.  “Well, there’s no lasting harm done, so in my mind it’s all worked out.”  He sits back in the chair and exhales.  “As for how we’re all alive, I do not know.  The pathway was crumbling and you did something that held it together long enough for me to grab Haurchefant and haul him back to safety.  When the walkway crumbled…” He pauses and closes his eyes, then leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, bowing his head.  “When I looked back, you were gone.  I didn't have the strength to look for you myself, but the commotion brought many of my knights running, and I had them search until they found you.  By all rights, you should have been dead, but you were found resting on top of a large chunk of the pavement.”  He stops, clearly considering his next words, and I say his name- I want to know.  “It was… where he originally- where he fell.”

Oh.

I’m silent for a long while, then nod slowly and reach out, taking his hand and giving it a tight squeeze.  He looks up, and I smile at him.  As he’d said, it’s all over now, and it’s all worked out for the best.  Dwelling on the how or the why is probably not a good idea at this point.

He smiles at me and nods.  “You’re right,” he agrees, “but it’s good to have answers when they are available.  For now, I think your friends are eager to see you… and once you’re feeling well enough, I’m sure you’ll want to keep watch over Haurchefant.  He hasn’t woken yet- he passed out shortly after I was able to grab him- but the healers tell me he’s doing well.”

I nod quickly, and he squeezes my hand again before rising and heading out to tell the others it’s safe to come in.  I smile when they all pile through the door at once, and after a little while, we’re all laughing together.

I’ve survived one more ordeal, and it’s safe to say I am counting my blessings, one by one.

Chapter Text

It takes him five days to wake up.

I stay at his bedside, ignoring every request to get up and leave except for when I have absolutely no choice- and then I return almost immediately.  There’s a revolving door of people who come in to check on us, and I have to admit, I appreciate that- otherwise, I wouldn’t eat or drink anything for fear of something awful happening in my absence.

When he finally opens his eyes, I do end up missing it- I’m slumped over with my head pillowed on his legs.  I feel a gentle hand on my hair and hear whispering, but I’m so exhausted I can’t make sense of it, at least not at first.  I feel myself gently lifted and settled down next to him, and I fall into a deep slumber.

I wake to him gently stroking my hair and singing softly.  That’s not unusual- he often sings, or at least hums, especially when he wakes up before me and I’m having nightmares.  I lay still and listen for a second, and then it hits me- if he’s singing, he’s awake!- and I push myself upright to look down at him.  He smiles brightly, pale blue eyes shining, and I say his name and promptly burst into tears.

“Oh, my dear, it’s all right,” he murmurs, pulling me down and holding me tight.  “Everything’s all right…”

It takes me a little while to get myself under control, and when I look down at him, he’s smiling at me again.  I hesitate before touching my lips to his, and he only draws me closer.

When the kiss breaks he smiles at me again, the same bright smile he’s always worn- a night and day difference from when the Ascian controlled him.  “I hear you have quite a story to tell, my beloved hero… one I should be most interested in hearing, as I fear I’ve no recollection of what happened to me after that- unfortunate incident in the Vault.”

I sigh.  Leave it to him to understate what happened and call it an unfortunate incident.  I can’t help but smile, though, and I kiss him lightly on the cheek before settling down next to him.  The healers had all assured us that he was in perfect health despite everything that had happened, and though I don’t know how or why, what I do know is that we have a second chance… and that’s not something I’m going to even consider giving up.  I take his hand and lace our fingers together, and we lay quietly for a little while.

The door opens slowly to admit Aymeric, who’s smiling and carrying a tray of food.  “Estinien told me you were both awake, and so I came as quickly as I could,” he says.  “How are you feeling, Haurchefant?”

“I feel wonderful,” Haurchefant replies with a slightly dreamy smile, giving my hand a squeeze.  “Ah- but otherwise, I’m in perfect health… a bit tired, perhaps, but that’ll be resolved once I’m up and moving about.”  I shift away and he slowly sits up, putting a hand to his head before dropping it to his lap and looking up at Aymeric.  “What about you?  Have your wounds healed?”

Aymeric pauses.  “From the Vault, you mean?”  When Haurchefant nods, Aymeric nods as well.  “Yes, I’ve healed fully- from that and from our most recent ordeal.”  He puts the food down on the table next to the bed and we both help Haurchefant up so he can eat.  He does seem to feel better once he’s sitting up, I think, and I smile as I sit next to him, and Aymeric across from us.

Haurchefant takes a sip of tea and looks into it for a second.  “It’s odd, really,” he finally says.  “I don’t know what happened to me, and yet I know a great deal of time has passed… I can tell that just by looking at all of you.  Your hair is longer, Aymeric… as is yours, my dear.”

I blink, then push it back out of my face.  He’s right, I’m in dire need of a trim… or maybe something different entirely, I don’t know.

Aymeric chuckles quietly.  “I’ve let mine go on purpose,” he says, “though I’ll likely cut it soon.”  He looks at me, then at Haurchefant.  “It’s been nearly a year since I was imprisoned in the Vault.”

Haurchefant nods slowly, a pensive expression crossing his face before he relaxes again.  “Most interesting,” he murmurs.  “I remember… what happened to me, and I remember looking up at you-“ He looks at me and smiles faintly- “and that’s it.  The next thing I know I’m waking up in my room here with you sleeping on my legs and Estinien watching over us both.”

That answers a lingering question I’d had- who had made sure he was all right?  I smile faintly and take a sip of my own tea.

Aymeric smiles.  “He sat with you both for quite some time,” he says.  “He was worried- though, you know how he is.  He won’t admit it.  He came to get me after he settled you in to sleep.”  He looks at me, and I nod.  I couldn’t remember how long it had been since I’d slept more than an hour or two at a time.

Haurchefant casts me a warm look.  “I didn’t want to disturb you, though I was rather confused,” he admits.  “I decided to let things come in their time and enjoyed having you next to me.  After… that, I wasn’t certain I’d have the chance again.”

Neither was I, and I take a quick drink of my tea to hide the sting of tears.  I was certain I’d never see him again.  Once I’ve composed myself, I put the mug down and look at Aymeric, then back at Haurchefant, who’s watching me patiently… and I tell him the story, from when he fell in the Vault to when the Ascian possessing him was destroyed and I made the choice to sacrifice myself to save both him and Aymeric.

Aymeric sits back in his chair and watches Haurchefant, who looks absolutely dumbstruck.  “It’s a lot to take in, I know,” he finally says.

Haurchefant nods slowly, gaze still locked on mine.  “I- I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am,” he finally says softly, “but… perhaps that should wait.”  I nod, already tearing up again, and he looks at Aymeric.  “And so you are now the leader of Ishgard?”

“It seems that way.”  Aymeric smiles wryly.  “I certainly didn’t ask for it, but here I am… as are we all.  This is the chance I was hoping for to truly see a difference made.”  He looks at me and smiles warmly.  “Thanks to the Warrior of Light, we have Estinien back- and you, of course… and as I’ve appointed Artoriel to lead Camp Dragonhead, that leaves you wanting a command of your own.”

“Artoriel?”  Haurchefant smiles happily.  “Why, that’s outstanding!  I’m certain he’s doing a remarkable job.”  The rest of Aymeric’s sentence dawns on him, then, and he looks at him curiously.  “What sort of command do I need?  I should think being alive and well is more than enough, after everything else.”  He looks at me, and his smile gentles.  “Perhaps… being free to follow my heart is the best thing that could have happened.”

Aymeric tilts his head.  “Of course, if that’s what you want,” he says.  “If, however, you change your mind… I could certainly use your expertise in managing civilians as well as military personnel.”

“You will always have my help if you need it,” Haurchefant replies, taking my hand and squeezing it tightly.  “However… as I have the opportunity to do so- perhaps I shall join the Scions and serve not only Ishgard, but Eorzea at large.”

My heart leaps in my chest and I squeeze his hand back.  I would love nothing more than having him by my side, fighting with me and traveling everywhere with me.  The thought of how dangerous it is sobers me, however, and I realize that this is going to take some serious consideration… then again- I can’t keep him wrapped in wool.  He’s never dared try that with me, and I know my fear is coming from having lost him once.  I have to trust him enough to let him stand on his own again, otherwise I risk crippling him and the love we share, the love that’s based on mutual respect and admiration.

Aymeric smiles.  “In that case, I will wish you all the best,” he says, “and admit I find myself rather envious… this journey has reminded me of what it was like before I took command.  I shall miss you both dearly.”

I look at him and shake my head.  We won’t stay gone, this I know- Ishgard is Haurchefant’s home, and more than that, I owe Aymeric a great deal for all the support he’d given me… and, he’s one of my dearest friends.  I couldn’t stand to leave forever, even for more than a few months at a time.

His smile warms.  “Thank you,” he says quietly.  “I appreciate that more than I can say.  The two of you are among my closest friends as well.”  He looks at Haurchefant and nods.  “For now, though, you’ll need to stay nearby until the priests see fit to let you go- and eating will go a long way toward convincing them.”

Haurchefant smiles sheepishly.  “That’s true,” he agrees, and he turns his attention to the food.

Once that’s done, Aymeric stands and takes the tray.  “I’ll leave you two for now, and instruct everyone else to do the same.”  He smiles his quiet, gentle smile and nods to both of us before leaving, and I hesitate before looking at Haurchefant again.  At least, I think, we’re in comfortable surroundings- his room at Fortemps Manor- because I doubt most of what we’ll have to talk about is going to be pleasant.

It takes him a moment to look back at me, and he tries at a smile- but it falls flat.  “My dear, I don’t…” He trails off and bites his lip, then stands and holds his arms open.

I fly into them faster than it takes either of us to draw a breath, and he folds me to his heart and holds me tight.

“I don’t know what to say,” he finally whispers, face pressed against my hair.

I shake my head.  He doesn’t have to say anything- I don’t need apologies or anything else.  All I need right now is the sound of his heartbeat, the way he’s holding me, and time to let the shock of it all wear off.

We stand like that for a long moment before he gently leads me to the bed.  He props the pillows up and sits down, reclining against them, and draws me down into his arms- and I make myself comfortable settled between his legs, my head resting on his chest.  He lets out a slow breath and strokes my hair.

“I hope you aren’t angry with me for what I did,” he says quietly, and I push myself up to look at him… and kiss him to ease away the bruised look in his eyes.  When the kiss breaks he lifts a hand to cup the side of my face, and I tip my head into it.  “You are more important to me than anything, more than my own life.”  He smiles a little.  “That’s a frightening realization, but- in the moment, and even now, it feels right.  It isn’t because you’re the Warrior of Light, either… it’s because you’re you, you’re my beloved, and I couldn’t bear the thought of you being harmed when I had the power to stop it.”

I bow my head.  It had cost him his life, in the end… and the Ascians had swooped in to take further advantage.  I love him fiercely, but I’m terrified- and I don’t know what to do.

He gently shifts his hand and tips my chin up so I’m looking at him again.  “What do you want to do?” he asks quietly.  “What does your heart tell you?”

I smile shakily.  It tells me to cling to him as tight as I can and never, ever let go.  I just don’t know if it’s wise to listen to it.

He smiles.  “There’s nothing wiser,” he replies, his voice endlessly gentle.  “The best thing a person can do is follow their heart, my love- and I don’t regret following mine, not for a second.”

I close my eyes tight and swallow thickly, but I nod and open my eyes again, looking into his… and they’re shining.  I smile a little and he smiles back, drawing me down for another warm kiss.  I am his, forever and always, regardless of what the future may hold- and he is mine in the same way.

A little while later he shifts and chuckles quietly.  “Forgive me, my dear, but… I fear if I don’t take a bath, I’ll soon scare you away.”

I blink and consider that.  I haven’t bathed in a couple of days either, and I make a face.  I smell.

He grins and rises, then lifts me into his arms and winks playfully.  “Then we are quite the pair,” he says, and I laugh as he carries me into the bathroom and shuts the door behind us.

Once the water is drawn, he only pauses to strip out of his clothes before climbing in and sighing happily.  The tub is more than big enough for the two of us, and I only pause a second before shedding my clothes and doing the same.  His eyes are instantly on me, and I know he’s looking at the wounds I took during the fight with the Ascian- whose name I never really did catch, now that I think on it.

He sighs, then smiles and shakes his head.  “After seeing you this way so many times, and more… every time I see you undress, it’s like the first time all over again.”

I blink, then blush scarlet and splash water at him, which makes him laugh.  Leave it to him to say something like that, I think- he lives in his own fanciful universe… but, I can’t help but find it charming.  I always have.

He grins and leans back against the edge of the tub.  “You can’t fault me for looking,” he says.  “Why, that’s like putting a banquet in front of a man who hasn’t eaten in a week and telling him he still can’t eat!”

I sink into the water up to my chin and glare half-heartedly at him, but his expression just makes me laugh, in the end- that, and the ridiculous metaphor.  Two can play this game, however, so I shift and move close, and whisper in his ear a question that makes him blush scarlet- if I’ve been alone for this past year, does that mean he’s the banquet?

“Well, well,” he murmurs, hands coming to rest on my waist.  “I’m not sure I can argue with that.”

I’m glad to hear that, I think.  I smirk and press against him, letting him think this is exactly what I’m intending- and then I upend a bucket of water over his head, making him gasp and sputter.

He laughs and pushes his hair out of his eyes and then hugs me tight.  “I get the hint,” he says teasingly.  “Wash first, and pleasant distractions after.”

I hum softly to myself and reach for the shampoo, lathering it between my hands and then running them through his hair.  He closes his eyes and smiles, hands once again settling on my waist as I work.

“You’re going to spoil me,” he murmurs.  “I can’t recall the last time anyone washed my hair for me.”

I smile and kiss his nose, then continue.  His hair is always soft and shining, and I’m determined to see it that way again as opposed to lank and dull… plus, this is as soothing for me as it is for him.  I had no idea what I was to do with myself when he was gone, and now that he’s here I just want to be close to him- it doesn’t matter what we’re doing.

Once his hair is rinsed, he sits patiently while I soap a cloth and go about washing the rest of him… at least for a little while.  He finally reaches out and catches my hands, looking at me with a gentle expression.  “I’m all right,” he says quietly.  “I promise you, I’m none the worse for wear.”

I pause, then bite my lower lip hard when I feel it quiver.  Perhaps some of this is to reassure myself that he’s really here and well…

… all right, or most of it.

He smiles and brings my hands to his lips, gently kissing my knuckles before wrapping his arms around me and giving me a tight hug.  “Now then,” he murmurs, “let me spoil you in return.”

I sigh and do so, closing my eyes as he carefully washes my hair in return.  It feels good to be so close to him, and I make a quiet sound of pleasure.

“There,” he says after a few moments, smiling.  He carefully rinses the shampoo out of my hair, then draws me closer and gives me a long, warm kiss- and I huff out a laugh as his hands slip lower, gently batting them away.  He draws back and winks at me.  “You can’t blame me for trying…”

I smirk at him and drag my hands down his chest, and he catches my hands again and kisses my palms, then my inner wrists, making me shiver.  I quickly grab the soap and make sure the rest of me is clean, and as soon as he’s done the same, he lifts me into his arms and out of the water with another wink.  He sets me down carefully and wraps me in a large, fluffy towel, then drapes one of his own around his hips and sighs, shaking out his hair.

“I feel much better,” he says happily.  “It’s amazing what a bath can do for someone, isn’t it?”

I nod in agreement and dry myself off, and then I help him strip the linens off of the bed and re-make it with fresh from the cabinet.  This all feels very… normal, and I find I rather like it.  I sit on the bed cross-legged with my towel draped across my lap and watch as he finishes drying off, and he looks back at me with a grin.

“I do love it when you look at me like that, my dear,” he says teasingly.

I give him a serene smile.  I’m enjoying the view, yes, but I’m more enjoying the fact that he’s here to look at in general… and I think I’ll be feeling that way for quite awhile.

He flops onto the bed next to me and lays on his side, looking up at me with a gentle expression.  “You’re more beautiful than ever…”

I blush and lean down to kiss him, then smile and shrug.  I don’t think I look much different at all, really… in fact, if anything, I think I look worse.  My grief aged me.  I pause and think back to the conversation before, then look down at him curiously, wondering if he truly does intend to join the Scions.

“Absolutely,” he replies, his bright smile returning.  “Why would I not?  What an excellent opportunity- and not only that, but I’ll have you with me always.”  He draws me down as he rolls onto his back and gently tangles his fingers in my hair.  “I never, ever dreamed I’d be so lucky.  I thought I would always remain at Camp Dragonhead, watching you go off and praying for your safe return… and now, I’ll be able to accompany you and look after you myself.”  He pauses, then colors slightly.  “And, perhaps… if you’d be interested in such a thing… we could- make this permanent, what you and I share.”

I blink, confused- had it been less than permanent?  I don’t understand what he means, and I look down at him, puzzled… and then it dawns on me.

He wants to get married.

To me.

My eyes widen, and my face feels scorching hot… but, as I think about it, I find I like the idea.  I lean down and kiss him again, and he tugs me down next to him with a laugh.

“I’ll be sure to ask properly, then,” he says happily.  “I don’t even have a gift for you.”

I laugh softly.  I don’t need a gift or anything like that, I already have everything I want- but I smile and let him go on with his plan as he has it.  I’m sure it won’t be anything close to disappointing.

When he drifts off to sleep I stay next to him, thinking about nothing in particular save the future that’s now in front of me.  It’s one I most certainly like the look of, one I can’t wait to usher in, and I smile and hum softly to myself- a habit, no doubt, I picked up from him.

I’ve fallen into somewhat of a doze when he gasps and wakes with a start, and I immediately sit up and look down at him, worried.  He closes his eyes tight and puts a hand over his face, and I gently place mine over it- and when he calms enough, he lifts it and twines our fingers together, bringing them to rest on his chest.

“By the Fury,” he whispers, slowly looking up at the ceiling.

I’m almost afraid to ask what he saw, and I bite my lip as his eyes meet mine.  You’re all right now, I murmur, it’s all over- but I don’t know if that’s going to be nearly enough to erase what he’s undoubtedly going to remember, or already has started to.

He closes his eyes again.  “The worst part… was seeing the look in your eyes,” he finally breathes, and he tugs me down gently before wrapping me in a tight embrace.  “I knew I would undoubtedly start to remember, I just… I- I wasn’t ready to see…!”

I soothe him as gently as I can, nosing at his jaw and whispering softly to him, but he’s tense and shaking.  I say his name softly, and he slowly opens his eyes and looks at me.  I smile and draw my fingers gently through his hair and urge him to think about now, not about then.  Now is when we get to truly start our lives, when we get to be truly happy.  Then is only how we got here, and it’s in the past.

He slowly nods in agreement and draws a deep breath, then lets it out slowly.  “You’re right, my dear,” he murmurs.  “I knew I would have nightmares, if not of the rest, of… of what happened that day.”

I nod slightly.  That makes sense, given that I’ve had nightmares about it often as well.  I pause, then smile and lean down to kiss him.  It will be far better for both of us to wake up to one another, I think.

He buries one hand in my hair and wraps the other around me, drawing me over him and deepening the kiss, and I’m briefly surprised at the force of his need- but I answer it with my own, letting him know that it’s all right, that I’m willing to do whatever he wants, because I want it just as badly.  I can’t help but grin a bit, then, and I shift to purr into his ear, reminding him of the joke he’d made in the bath- and he rewards me with a breathless laugh, pressing his hips upward to show me how aroused he already is.

“Trust me, my dear, if all I had to survive on was you and the fresh air, I would be most pleased,” he says, his voice low and teasing and making me shiver all over.  He gently tries to roll me onto my back but I shake my head, bracing myself to stay just where I am.  His eyes widen a little, then he lets out a shaky sigh and his lips curve into a small, secret smile.  “Mm… so, you want to take charge?  Far be it from me to stop you.”

I do, and I take my sweet time with him.  By the time I am finished, I promise myself, he will have forgotten all of this, and all he’ll be thinking about is me.

My movements are languid as I shift, running my hands slowly down his chest as I kiss his neck, making him arch a bit beneath me.  He’s only let me do this once or twice- he likes to take charge, to be the one giving instead of the one receiving.  I had to learn to force myself to still, to breathe in the moment and savor it instead of struggling with myself.  It seems he’s learning the same as he relaxes into the mattress, focusing on the pleasure in the moment instead of what’s to come, and my mouth curves into a smile against his soft skin.  I never liked to be vulnerable, but he taught me how… and knowing that, it’s easy to teach him to do the same.

He is shaking by the time I’ve started scattering kisses across his hips and thighs, still not in any particular hurry- but the way he reacts to me makes me smile again, and I pause to look up at him.  His eyes are shut tight and he has one hand tangled in the blankets, the other stroking my hair or the bare skin of my shoulder- whichever he can reach at the moment.  I slide back up his body and kiss him, unable to resist, and he immediately winds both arms around me and kisses me back.

“My love,” he breathes into the kiss, “my beloved…”

Well.  I certainly can’t resist that.

Tears come to my eyes and I kiss him deeply once more before going back to my task.  The first night we’d spent together I was a bit intimidated by him, not only because he’s perfectly and gorgeously built, but because I’d been afraid of letting my walls down lest I find myself hurt.  When I had taken the risk and done so, I’d realized that hurting me was the very last thing he’d ever do.  I thought, surely a man like him takes lovers by the score and is of course fond of them, but never, ever allows them close- and that was true… except in my case.  He’d asked me if he was my first, and I’d answered honestly, telling him that he’s the only one who’s mattered, and when I saw the look on his face, when he held me tight and told me the same, I believed him.

My reward for that belief is the love we have now, and I smile.

His hands immediately tangle in my hair as I delicately touch my tongue to his skin, tasting how badly he already wants me and letting the rush of arousal I feel go clear through me.  I listen to the way his breath hitches, feel the way his hands shake, the way his body shifts as I go further.  He makes a quiet sound, then another, encouraging me onward.  I am careful and thorough, and he has to lift a hand to his mouth to muffle the sounds he’s making… and, eventually, the hand in my hair drops to my shoulder and gently pushes me back.

“Give me a moment,” he breathes, and I shake my head before taking his hand and pressing a warm kiss to the palm.  He looks at me with liquid blue eyes, and I smile and whisper back a request to let me do this, to focus on him alone.

He pushes himself up and draws me into his arms, giving me a long, deep kiss- which I gladly return.  I melt against him, shifting and brushing against him in just the right way, making him gasp as his hips jerk a bit… and I can’t help but bury my face in his neck and grin.  Being able to do this for him makes me feel drunk, and I want more than anything to keep going.  I draw back and peer at him, noting the flush on his pale skin, the way he’s still breathing hard… and I trail one hand down his chest, over his stomach, and carefully wrap it around him.  He lets out a low growl and presses his face against my hair.

“You are testing every ounce of self control I have,” he manages- and he sounds nothing like himself.  His voice is low and throaty, and though I hear the warmth of love in it, I also hear that said self control is about to snap.

I grin and nip at his ear, then trace the shell with my tongue.  Let me, I breathe, and he relents- I feel it in the way he suddenly relaxes, in the way he nods and holds me closer for a second before letting go so I can move downward.  He stays seated, leaning over me as though to shelter me, and I feel warm inside as I start again.  I am hyper-aware of him as he is of me, and I feel each shudder, each hitched breath, each pulse against my tongue as though they’re mine… and when he climaxes, I may as well have too for how powerfully I react to him.  Every nerve in my body sings as I take him in all the way, every breath feels magical.

Once I’m sure he’s finished I gently draw back and sit up.  He is still leaning forward, head bowed and silver hair hiding his face, breathing hard… but he looks up at me after a moment, and my heart aches swiftly for how incredibly beautiful he looks.  He slowly lifts a shaking hand and settles his fingertips against my lips, letting them linger there for just a few breaths before replacing them with his own, gently parting them with his tongue and kissing me as though he never has before.  He draws me closer yet, cradling me against his body as he reaches down and trails his fingers up my thighs… and I close my eyes and rest against him.

It takes him heartbeats to have me undone entirely.  That has never happened to me before.

I remain leaning against him, struggling to catch my breath, and I feel something in my chest slowly beginning to uncoil itself.  I take his hand, lift it to my mouth and press a soft kiss to his fingertips, then gently dart my tongue against them.  He shudders and holds me tighter, whispers my name and presses a kiss to my cheek, then my mouth.

A few moments of this and the fire slowly comes back to life between us, and when he gently lowers me to the mattress, I cling to him and draw him down with me.  There is nothing better, I think, than this perfect union… and I spend what feels like a blissful eternity wound in his arms, holding him tightly in mine.

One would think, after something like that, that I’d be tired- but I’m not.  I feel energized.  I’m content to lay with him as he relaxes, but after a few moments, he shifts and looks at me with a warm smile.

“I should be tired,” he admits, echoing my thoughts- and I laugh, brushing a kiss against his chin.  I sit up and stretch, then look down at him as he stretches as well and pushes himself up.  “I can’t help but feel like I’ve truly awoken,” he muses.  “My old life is over- I have a new one in front of me, one that I can spend with you by my side… I couldn’t possibly be any happier than this.”

I grin and lean up to kiss him on the nose, then draw back.  There’s really nothing limiting us now… we can do whatever suits us best.  He takes my hands in his and draws me close for another deep kiss, then winks.

“Come, my dear,” he says.  “Let’s dress and go visit with everyone else… and then perhaps you and I can escape somewhere and be alone for awhile.”

That sounds wonderful to me, and as I dress I can’t help but think how lucky I am- and when I look back over my shoulder at him, he’s smiling softly to himself.

Everything worked out for the best… and there’s nowhere to go from here but up.

Chapter Text

Every moment I hesitate is another moment the Ascians have to torment Aymeric, and so I waste no time getting back to Ishgard.  The thought of going back into the Vault yet again makes me sick, but I know I have no choice- if this is to be the next stop, then I have to face it.  As I walk in, however, the memories threaten to rise up and choke me.

This is just a place, I tell myself.  What happened here is in the past.  The past is where it is.

I wish I could really, truly believe that.  I close my eyes briefly, remembering the way the spear had shot through the air, remembering his warning shout and how he’d jumped in front of me- how he’d given his life for mine.

This time, however, instead of letting that cause me grief, I let it give me strength.  He gave his life for me so that I could continue on, because he knew then- he’d known all along- how important my mission was… and, much as I hate to admit it, even to myself, there is nobody else who can take my place.

It occurs to me, when I’m walking up the stairs toward the arena in which I battled the last member of the Heaven’s Ward, that this might very well be a trap.  There’s no way for me to escape, at this point- the only way out is straight down to my death on the pavestones, and I’ve no intention of going out like that.

I sigh faintly to myself.  I wouldn’t be terribly surprised if it were a trap, but it seems so obvious that I doubt the Ascians would insult themselves by trying.

I stop in the middle of the arena and look around.  Nothing seems immediately out of place, and it’s a couple more steps forward until something glinting on the ground catches my attention.  I kneel down and look at it, then gasp and pick it up.  Just like I’d found one of Haurchefant’s ear clasps in the underground of Ul’dah, so now is one of Aymeric’s here waiting for me.

This time, when the Echo comes, I give myself over to it entirely.

The room is small and lit by a single torch.  Aymeric is chained to the wall, stripped of his armor, wearing only his trousers.  He’s obviously been beaten, though you wouldn’t know it from the defiant look in his eyes, the way he sets his jaw as he looks straight ahead.  He chose this path knowing full well what it would entail for him- a bit of suffering on his part was worth Estinien’s life.  He would never be convinced otherwise. 

The door swings open, then, and in walk Elidibus and the Ascian possessing Haurchefant.  Aymeric presses his lips together, sapphire eyes narrowing.

“Oh, do relax, Lord Commander,” Elidibus says, lifting a hand and making a dismissive gesture.  “It’s not like we’re beating you to get information out of you.  I’ve no need for that.  This is all a show we’re putting on.”

“Don’t include me in this as though I have a say in the matter,” Aymeric snaps.  “I was glad to take Estinien’s place with the hope of saving his life.  All of us understood my reasoning.”

“All?”  Elidibus smiles, but it’s a cold, nasty expression.  “I wonder about that, Ser Aymeric.  As it stands, the Warrior of Light seemed to have a difficult time with it.  In essence, this was your choice.  You forced the warrior’s hand.”

Aymeric’s mouth twists.  “Nay.  You may tell yourself that as much as you wish, but the Warrior of Light is nobody’s fool.  The choice was obviously not a choice at all.  Don’t ply me with platitudes, Ascian- I see what you’re playing at.”

“Do you?”  Elidibus spreads his hands.  “Please, do enlighten me.  I’d very much enjoy hearing what exactly you think it is that we have in mind.”

Aymeric doesn’t answer him, his gaze instead going to Haurchefant.  The Ascian is leaning back against the wall, arms crossed.  “You couldn’t be less like him if you tried,” he says scornfully.

Haurchefant smiles and shrugs.  “I’m not trying,” he replies.  “As I’m sure I’ll have the opportunity to speak with the Warrior of Light anon- given the memories this unfortunate knight holds- I’ll tell you the same thing I’m planning on telling the warrior.  When Lahabrea possessed the Scion, Thancred, he too struggled a bit with maintaining his own identity.  It was far more difficult for him, as Thancred was alive at the time of his possession.  In my case, I simply bear witness to thoughts, emotions, and memories as opposed to having to wrench his mind into submission.  It takes a bit of time for the soul to leave the body after it dies, did you know that?”  He smirks, and Aymeric’s scowl deepens.  “I’ve no need to pretend, because most of it comes naturally, and I don’t mind.  It can be useful at times, and entertaining at others.”

“You have no business seeing those things,” Aymeric snarls, pulling at his chains though he knows he isn’t going anywhere.

“Maybe not,” the Ascian agrees, “but here we are, Lord Commander… and our dear Haurchefant was quite fond of you as well, did you know that?  You were one of the men he trusted above all.”

Aymeric stills, but his expression is still venomous.  “This I knew,” he says quietly, “and nothing you tell me will twist my opinion of him.  Lord Haurchefant was a wonderful man, and I’ve no doubt I’ll never see his like again.  The fact that you are using his body for this is clever, I’ll give you that… but no matter what you see, what you spy on, you will never be able to change the love we all bore him.”

I’m left reeling when the Echo fades, my head in my hands.  I know I’m not far, now.  I force myself up and the headache slowly dissipates, and I set my jaw and head up the stairs toward the airship landing.

I nearly falter when it comes into view, but I draw a breath and let it out slowly.  It makes perfect sense that they’d choose here for a confrontation- it’s the one place in all of Eorzea that has the possibility to knock me off-balance simply by virtue of being what it is.  It’s deserted, but I know exactly what I’m to do, and I close my eyes before opening them, setting my jaw, and walking forward.

As expected, when I reach the spot where Haurchefant had leapt in front of me and saved my life, I sense a presence behind me.  I face away for a few more heartbeats, mostly out of defiance- but, I have to admit to myself that I’m a little afraid as well.  Elidibus had promised Aymeric wouldn’t be killed while they had him, but that doesn’t necessarily extend to now, when I have the chance to get him back.

Behind me is, as I’d expected, the Ascian who’s been using Haurchefant against me this whole time.  He’s alone on the stone walkway, but I see Elidibus and Aymeric on the platform where Ser Zephirin threw the spear that took my beloved’s life- and half of my own.  A strange sort of calm settles over me, and I have the strangest feeling that someone is behind me with their hands on my shoulders.  I smile a little and close my eyes, then open them again and look at the Ascian.

“Well, my dear,” he says with a faint smile of his own, “here we are.  I do hope you don’t mind the location we’ve chosen.”

I stare him down for a few seconds, and then slowly shake my head.  They already know I’m unsettled- there’s no need to verify that for them.  I turn my gaze to Aymeric, then back to the Ascian, and my hands clench into fists.

He glances over his shoulder, and his smile widens as he looks back at me.  “You were worried about Ser Aymeric?  A promise is a promise!  He’s just fine… for now.”  He shrugs.  “Of course, you’ll have to go through me to get him back… and I’ve no idea what Elidibus has planned.  You know how he is.”

I do, unfortunately.  He’s the type to play both sides against the middle, to hide behind a veneer of diplomacy in order to keep his true intentions guarded.

“I have one more offer to make you,” the Ascian continues, smiling charmingly- it’s a disturbing expression because it’s so close to Haurchefant’s actual smile, but something is missing… something important.  “Well, I suppose I already made it.  Lay down your weapons, and we can leave this place far behind.”

The wind picks up, but it’s oddly gentle for Ishgard- and oddly warm.  I glance off to my left, then look down at the stones beneath my feet before lifting my gaze to the Ascian’s.

I draw my weapon and put one foot behind me, balancing lightly.

I will never give up.

A flash of disappointment crosses the Ascian’s face, and he sighs.  “Very well,” he says, and he slowly puts on the red mask that obscures his face- and a rush of adrenaline shoots through me.  He’s sealed his own fate by putting that mask on.  It’s far easier to simply see him as one of my faceless adversaries now, and I won’t hold back.

In my experience, most Ascians tend to fight with magic as opposed to physical weapons, but this one creates a sword out of thin air and charges me.  I can’t imagine why he’s giving me so many advantages- does he honestly think Haurchefant and I never sparred?  Does he think I didn’t pay close attention when we fought side by side, that I didn’t learn at least some of his style of swordplay?

If that’s the case, he’s sorely mistaken, and I’m going to give him cause to regret all of it.

Fighting him becomes somewhat of a dance, both of us agile and strong.  The narrow path makes things a bit more difficult, with the only way to win an advantage being to push forward.  Too far to one side or the other and that will be the end of it, and so I guard both my sides carefully, fighting more defensively than I usually do.

I’m concentrating so intently that I very nearly miss the warning shout from behind me, and I rush forward, shouldering past him and dropping into a roll before leaping back to my feet and spinning to face him.  Another Ascian stands there now, this one wearing a gray mask- and Haurchefant is nowhere to be seen.  I grit my teeth and charge forward, hand gripping my weapon tight.  Of course, I think, they have reinforcements- why wouldn’t they?

The gray-masked Ascian falls quickly, however, which tells me that they’re either a distraction or just fodder, and I spin around again to face Aymeric and Elidibus.  Haurchefant stands with them now, and I grit my teeth.  If I attack them, they’ll use Aymeric as a shield, and I can’t take that risk.

Elidibus crosses his arms and nods, and Haurchefant disappears, reappearing several paces in front of me- with Aymeric, this time.  I grit my teeth and take a step forward.

“Here,” the Ascian says, shoving him toward me with a smirk.  “He’s unnecessary, at this point.”

I curse silently.  They have made my job far harder.  Aymeric stumbles and manages to make it to my side, but he’s crouching and unable to stand.  I now have to split my attention, making sure I protect him from the gray-masked Ascians- not to mention the one in front of us- as well as keeping myself alive.  I reach down and touch Aymeric’s shoulder, and he looks up at me with a quick nod.  He’s all right, though disarmed and wearing the button-up shirt and trousers he wears beneath his armor.  I wonder absently where that ended up.  He’s not going to be of any help, however, and I close my eyes briefly.

“You can still take me up on my offer, you know,” the Ascian says, spreading his hands as if in a gesture of peace.  “I shan’t withdraw it.”

I give him a level stare and shake my head.

He sighs and looks at Aymeric, shrugging.  “How do you put up with such a stubborn person?”

Aymeric doesn’t answer, instead looking up at me.  It’s clear he has faith that I can win, but he also knows that he may die here- and I may die with him.  Either way, he seems peaceful, and that gives me strength.

The battle resumes again, and as I’d expected, this time it’s much more difficult.  I am able to ward off the gray-masked Ascians without too much trouble, but they seem endless, and I am only one person.  I am panting by the time Haurchefant attacks me again, but I force myself to continue onward.  There won’t be anything gained- and much lost- if I can’t defeat him.

It’s not until he teleports behind me that I realize I have an opening.  His attention is on Aymeric, and he’s clearly intending on dealing him a death blow, which will force me to leap in front of him to prevent it- the same way Haurchefant had died defending me.  

This time, I tell myself, things will be different.

I do leap in front of Aymeric, but I don’t have a shield with which to defend myself.  All I can do is counterattack, and I do, meeting his attack with one of my own-

and for a long moment, we are at a stalemate-

but my attack proves stronger, and it breaks his apart and hits him square in the chest, sending him flying backwards.

He hits the pavement hard, bouncing once and coming to land on his stomach.  I close my eyes and call upon the blessing of Light inside of me, removing my last piece of white auracite from my bags.  I fling it into the air over the Ascian’s limp form and darkness begins to swirl around it, and I hear a voice I don’t recognize howling in anger.

I grit my teeth, knowing I have no power at my disposal save my own, and I call upon all of it.

For a few heartbeats I’m not sure if it’s enough, and I can rapidly feel myself weakening, but the voice screams in fury and agony as the auracite becomes impossibly bright- and it shatters shortly thereafter.

In the silence that follows, all I hear is the sound of the wind… the same warm, gentle wind I’d felt before the battle began.

“Very clever, Warrior of Light,” says a voice from off to my right, and I turn to see Elidibus floating in mid-air.  He looks angry, and I realize that all pretense of diplomacy is about to be dropped- and I’m beyond exhaustion at this point.  He points at me, then.  “You have one final choice to make.”

Cracks begin to appear in the pavestones in front of me, and I shout a curse at him, fling my weapon at him- for all the good that does.  He laughs, a cold, cruel sound, and disappears.

I have seconds to act, but my choice is already made.  I look back at Haurchefant, and I know there’s nothing there to save.  This is not the first time I’ve seen a corpse, not the first time I’ve seen his, and this will simply add to my nightmares.  He lays prone, one arm flung awkwardly over his body, the other resting above his head, and his eyes are half open… but I can see the whites beneath the irises, and the pupils are wide and fixed.

I grit my teeth around a sob and turn, grabbing Aymeric and hauling both of us to safety as the walkway collapses.

Once again, I’ve walked away from a confrontation with the Ascians with my life- and once again, it’s cost me far more than I could have ever imagined.  The worst thing is that I know they aren’t finished with me, and I doubt they’ll give me much respite before coming after me again.

Aymeric and I sit together at the entrance to what used to be the airship dock, and is now nothing but empty air.  I haven’t forgotten that he is injured, but I am as well, and I’m not sure I can get us back through the Vault and into the Congregation of the Knights Most Holy for the help we are both in dire need of.  Neither of us is close to dying, however- at least, I don’t think I am, and I’m sure he’s not- so I decide that it’s prudent to rest a bit before trying to get anywhere.

Weakened by my grief and my wounds, I let myself lean against him a little when he puts his arm around me, and we sit silently and try to make sense of what we’ve just been through.

It’s not long until I hear a familiar voice shouting my name, and I push myself up and turn in time to see Thancred running towards me.  He stops short and stares at the ruin of the walkway, then looks at me- and it’s clear he’s about to say something, but he thinks the better of it when he sees the look on my face.

“Come,” he says gently.  “Let’s get you both out of here.”

He manages to support both Aymeric and myself as we make our way back, and by the time we’re at the entry to the Vault, Lucia and a swarm of Temple Knights are waiting for us- as well as several healers, who take one look at Aymeric and I and order us straight to treatment.

Once Aymeric is healed, he stubbornly remains at my side despite the healers’ insistence that he rest.  My wounds are more extensive and take more time to heal, but once they’ve been taken care of we’re left alone in the room.  I close my eyes, then tell him he really should be resting himself, after the beating he took.

He makes a soft sound that could be a laugh.  “I’ve had far worse,” he says simply.  “They wanted to scare you and had no vendetta against me personally, and so what I suffered at their hands is nothing in comparison to my imprisonment in the Vault.”

I open my eyes and look at him again, and I remember his words from shortly thereafter- some wounds do not heal.

He has no idea how right he was.

Neither of us say much after that, because there isn’t much at all to say.  Alphinaud and Y’shtola return shortly from Matoya’s hideaway and keep vigil with me, but though I won, my victory is tainted by the very fact that in this, there was no true way to win.  They did the damage they’d wanted to do, and now I have to figure out how to pick up the pieces and move on.  I’m not even entirely sure I can… and I’m not sure anyone would blame me if I simply disappeared.

In the end, that is exactly what I decide to do, and I leave Ishgard in the middle of the night.  I write Aymeric a note explaining my actions, but I know he’ll understand and that my explanation isn’t truly necessary- but I feel like I owe him that much at least for his support.

I don’t intend on ever returning.  The person I was is dead and buried beneath the collapsed walkway.

I reach for the aether and close my eyes, focus on somewhere far away- and I vanish without another thought.

It’s better this way.

Chapter Text

It’s been five years since I’ve returned to Ishgard.  I still hadn’t wanted to go back, but I’ve realized now that staying away for so long isn’t really doing me any good… and I’ve been neglecting visiting his grave, even though it’s empty.  All Ishgard holds for me are bitter memories, and I’ve wanted to be as far away as I possibly could have been- and, for five years, I’ve been successful.

Now, I find myself once again making the journey from Camp Dragonhead to the tombstone that now simply marks a memorial instead of an actual burial site.  It hasn’t changed much, I see… his shield is still here, and there are flowers here as well despite the snow.  I look up at the sky and take a deep breath, and, despite myself, I smile a little… when it’s clear like this, the color is the same as his eyes.  I still have far more good memories than bad, even when I think about what happened that horrible day- the day I’d turned my back and fled, never to return.

At least, that was my intent.  As it happens, “never” lasts approximately five years.

I crouch in the snow in front of the tombstone and brush some of the ice that’s stuck to it away, and I smile softly despite the ache in my throat.  These past five years have been torture- I’ve missed him so much I’m surprised I’ve been able to function… and for a little while, I didn’t.  My friends coaxed me back into action after six months or so, though I never returned to the Falling Snows.  They’d meet me elsewhere.  I’d even run into Estinien when he’d been in Gridania on business with the Lancer’s Guild, though I’d kept the meeting brief, and he’d seemed to understand at the time.  The only person I haven’t seen- in fact, I’ve been avoiding him- is Aymeric.  

I feel a small flutter in my chest when I think of him.  There is no reason why he should want to see me, not after that day.  He blames himself, and likely fears I blame him as well, though I don’t… the choice wasn’t a choice, after all.  Haurchefant was dead, Aymeric was not.  There was little point in bringing home a corpse and sacrificing a dear friend to do so, and Haurchefant would certainly not have approved of such a decision.

“You should go talk to him,” a soft voice says- his voice.  I still hear him sometimes, though I’ve all but convinced myself that he’s a figment of my imagination, now.  “He’s missed you, you know.”

I shake my head slightly and set my own offering down in front of the tombstone- a collection of flowers from the Shroud that grow by the spring we’d spent an afternoon at… and then I look toward Foundation.

“Come, my dear, I know why you’ve chosen this day,” he says, insistent as always.  “The celebration will be starting shortly!  You should join in, as you’re a large reason why we have any cause to celebrate at all.”

That is a complete coincidence, I think stubbornly.  I’m here because I had nothing else to do and I’d run out of excuses to stay away.

He chuckles softly, a sound that reminds me of far happier times.  “Coincidences often occur because one wishes them to, my love… and you’ve been alone far too long.  Go to Foundation and speak with him, and if you’re not happy with the results, we’ll figure something else out.”

I huff… but look toward Foundation again.  It’s tempting.  I stand slowly and look back down at the grave marker, then turn and slowly walk away.  I’ll think about it, I tell myself- and him- firmly, but I make no promises.

As it happens I think of several excuses to keep myself away from the city for a few more hours- I want to see what all I’ve missed, how other places have changed, and so forth.  I visit them but never linger, and finally the sun has set and the celebration has begun.  This marks the anniversary of the end of the Dragonsong War, including the fall of Nidhogg, and I smile a little bit as I slowly walk up the Steps of Faith and to the city proper.  There are fires lit everywhere, music, people dancing, lights strung about- it lifts my mood to see everyone so happy.

I’m fairly certain I’m not recognizable, at least not immediately- my armor is different, though I do still wear it, and my cloak has a deep hood which I keep up.  That isn’t out of place, given the bitter cold in the air, but with all the fires and such around it’s warmer than usual.  I slowly walk through the Jeweled Crozier and up toward the Pillars, and when a laughing young woman presses a mug of spiced cider into my hands, I smile and thank her.

It does taste good, I think.

The Pillars are much the same as the lower city, though here I risk seeing more people I know.  I glance over my shoulder toward Fortemps Manor, then press ahead to the cathedral.  Everything is sparkling, from the lights to the stars to the jewels the citizens are wearing, and I find it quite breathtaking, all in all.  I finish my cider and set the mug aside carefully, knowing it will be collected and cleaned for the next person who needs it, and then walk up the stairs and inside.

I can barely contain a gasp- it looks completely different.  It’s clearly open to all now, and instead of looking silent and forbidding, it’s decorated in warm colors of gold and white and is brightly lit.  People are talking and dancing and celebrating, and I keep to one side, taking everything in.

My heart nearly stops when I see Lucia, and I duck behind a pillar to avoid being seen- but she hasn’t noticed me.  She’s talking and laughing with a group of temple knights, and I don’t see Aymeric… at least not immediately.  My gaze wanders over the rest of the crowd, and I smile warmly when I see Estinien as well, leaning against the wall and gesturing as he tells a story of some sort to his fellow dragoons.  He’d reclaimed his title and his duties, and so far as I know, has been doing admirably as always.

I’ve nearly let my guard down when I do catch sight of Aymeric, and that flutter comes back- I’m nervous at the very idea of speaking with him.  He’s wearing more or less the same armor that he wore before, white and blue and suiting him very well… and he laughs as a young woman coaxes him out to dance with everyone else.

I close my eyes, then turn away and head toward the exit.  This is no place for me, I think.  All I’m going to do is bring back bad memories, and that’s not something any of them deserve.  They’ve moved on, and it’s best I continue doing the same.

I’m almost out of the temple when someone catches me by the elbow and I freeze, then slowly turn.  It’s Estinien- damn him, I’d forgotten how observant he is.  He likely noticed me just from the way I move.

He gives me a knowing grin.  “And where do you think you’re going?” he asks.  “Five years away and you think you’re going to just slink out of here?”

I stammer something about being too hot, and he laughs and pushes my hood back, then unclasps my cloak and sweeps it away from my shoulders.

“There,” he says, amused.  “I’m sure that’s better.”

I huff at him and cross my arms, and he just shakes his head, grin widening.

“Oh, no.  You’ll not be getting anywhere by giving me that look.”  He takes my elbow again and leads me to the dragoons, who all light up at the sight of me- I’m far more recognizable than I thought.  I manage to smile and be polite, and resignedly accept the mug of ale that’s passed to me.  Maybe, I think wryly, getting drunk isn’t a bad idea after all.

I catch glances of Aymeric now and then, and he always has the same woman with him, whether he’s talking to someone or dancing- with her, specifically.  I don’t understand why that bothers me so much, honestly, and I shake my head, turning my attention back to my ale.  This is my third mug, and it’s far stronger than anything I’ve had recently… and I blink when I notice that most of the dragoons are distracted.

I could escape.

I’m about to do so when Estinien comes back from wherever he’d been and winks at me, offering me a plate of food.  “Here,” he says.  “I’d hate to be the one scraping the Warrior of Light off of the floor after a run with too much alcohol.”

I sigh, but take the plate and thank him regardless… and I ask him, hesitantly, how he’s been.

“Well enough,” he replies, which isn’t much of a surprise- there are few dragons about these days, and they are, if not friendly, at least peaceful.  “The dragoons are learning their new place in Ishgard, which is part of the military at large instead of our own order apart.”  He shrugs and takes a sip of his own ale.  “It suits me well enough.  With Nidhogg gone, I’ve nothing to chase after, and I’m enjoying a calmer lifestyle.”

I smile at him.  After everything he went through, both before his possession and after, I think there’s nobody more deserving.

He smiles back.  “Much of that is thanks to you,” he says softly.  “I’m honored to have fought by your side.  Now that you’re back, you realize you’ll have to wait until the Lord Commander has a chance to catch up with you- if I have to deal with one more lovesick glance toward the windows, I’m likely to throw him out of one.”

I laugh, then choke on it and stare at him.  Lovesick?

“You get the idea,” he replies, gesturing with his mug before taking another drink.

I eye him suspiciously.  I don’t know if I get the idea or if he’s teasing me, or if he’s just alluding to the fact that Aymeric has missed my company.  He’d written letters for awhile, but in the past six or so months, I haven’t gotten one from him.  I raise an eyebrow- in any case, he seems to have a partner for the evening.

Estinien glances over my shoulder toward the dance floor.  “What, her?” he asks.  “Heh.  Not bloody likely.  Aymeric’s as chaste as they come- she’s been hanging around him for quite awhile, but if she’s hoping he’ll lift her skirt, she’s going to be disappointed.”

My cheeks burn and I take a long swig of my ale.  Here’s to Estinien, I think dryly, who is never afraid to speak his mind.

I turn, glancing back again, and it seems to be just the wrong- or the right- moment.  Aymeric looks up and over at me, and our eyes meet… and for a moment, it’s as if everything goes still.  My hands shake and I grip both plate and mug tighter in order to keep from dropping them, and his expression goes from happy to astonished… and then joyful as he abandons the woman he’d been dancing with and runs across the floor.

I quickly set both mug and plate down, having enough foresight to see what’s coming- and sure enough, he sweeps me into a hug that has us both staggering.

“Praise Halone, you came back!” he cries, and though his voice isn’t really audible to many above the music and laughter, I can see Estinien grinning as he sidles away.

I close my eyes and hug him back.  The awful ache that’s been in my chest for the last five years has slowly started to ease, and it’s with no small amount of shock that I realize why.  I have missed Haurchefant desperately, yes, but I have also missed Aymeric- and now that I’m with him again, the hurt is vanishing.

He loosens his grip just enough that I can look up at him, and he smiles broadly.  “I was hoping, but I didn’t think… well.  It’s far more than enough to have you back, my friend, if even for a short while.”

I nod, swallowing thickly.  There’s a lot the two of us need to say, I think, and now is not the time or place to do so.

“Come!  Lucia is going to be thrilled,” he says, and he leads me back across the dance floor to speak with her, and though she gasps and gives me a tight hug as well, all I can see is the look in Aymeric’s bright eyes.

It’s easy to get lost in the celebration, even when the woman from before comes back to cling to Aymeric’s arm, and I’m more or less able to ignore her as I talk to everyone else.  In fact, I lose track of time completely until people start to leave, and I glance over as Aymeric is being led away.

Aymeric makes an excuse of some sort to get away from her and hurries back, though she shoots me a poisonous glare before stalking off in the other direction.  I have no idea what sort of competition she thinks I am, but I’m glad of the chance to speak with Aymeric alone.  More and more I’m thinking that Haurchefant had been right, that returning was in not only my best interest, but Aymeric’s as well.

We go to his chamber in the Congregation of the Knights Most Holy, and I smile a little to see that it hasn’t changed at all since last I was here.  It feels like ages ago.  He closes and bolts the door behind us, then gives me a warm smile.  “I hope you aren’t too tired,” he says.  “Gods, it’s good to see you again- I want to hear all about your travels since you left.”

I intend on telling him- I really do- but as soon as we’re seated next to one another my ability to speak deserts me entirely.  I don’t know if it’s the ale we’ve both had, or the look in his eyes, or the flutter in my chest, but I find my hands tangled in his hair and his arms tight around me as I straddle his thighs and kiss him for all I’m worth- and he kisses me back with equal fervor.

That is not what I was expecting to happen… though looking back at the way Estinien and Lucia both grinned when Aymeric and I were talking- or just looking at each other- leads me to believe that everyone else expected it except for the two of us.

The kiss breaks and we are both left panting.  It takes me a moment to open my eyes, and when I do, I find him looking at me intently.  That look in his eyes is still there, maybe even more intense now, and I tremble when he slowly tightens his grip on me again.

“I can’t even tell you how much I’ve missed you,” he says, his voice slightly rough.  “All this time I’ve been… not waiting, per se, but hoping… that one day, you would come back.”

I bite my lip and slowly draw a trembling hand from his hair to frame his face.  I feel awful about it, now that I’m here with him… but it had hurt so badly- and I thought he’d be better off without me around.

He kisses me again and I kiss him back, feeling the tightness that had been in my chest since I returned starting to ease off as well.  I am still shaking a little, but he is gentle, holding me close as a fire I haven’t felt in a very long time begins to spark to life between us- and I never imagined, not for one second, that I would find myself in his arms.

I must have been blind all along.

He is careful as he finds the buckles of my armor, unclasping it and casting it aside as I do the same for him… and once it’s gone, I’m struck with how very familiar this feels- being held so tenderly by someone who truly cares for me, feeling the heat of his body from how close we are to one another.  It feels amazing.  He is looking at me with the same sort of vague awe that I saw in Haurchefant’s eyes, and I’m realizing now that it must be in my own, as it had been then, because this awe, this wonder… it only speaks of one thing.

I am in love again.

The thought is like a rush of fresh air, like rainfall on a dusty plain that’s been dehydrated for weeks… like a salve to my aching heart, which is rapidly healing now.

Our kisses grow more heated as we continue, as our hands explore what we can reach.  I shift and kiss his jaw, then his neck, and he tips his head back with a sigh of pleasure… and I gently nip at the racing pulse I find before pressing a long, warm kiss to it that makes him hold me even tighter.

I remember something Estinien said- Aymeric is as chaste as they come- and I can’t help but let out a soft laugh and tell him, breathing the words teasingly into his ear.

He laughs as well, low and velvety, enough to curl my toes just from that gesture- his voice has always done strange things to my mind.  “Chaste?  Perhaps when it comes to people I don’t want… which is, in fact, everyone in this world but you.”

I smile and nip at his ear, making him shudder.  He seems to like these light, gentle bites, and I’m happy to continue… but I draw back and look at him.  He’s smiling a little, sapphire blue eyes lust-darkened, and a gorgeous, dusky blush has spread across his cheeks and nose.  Everyone but me… I like that that thought, really.  I kiss him again as my hands seek the buttons of his collared shirt and then explore once they’re undone, roaming across soft skin and the hard muscle beneath.  He is deliciously warm, and I can’t get enough of that- I press closer yet as his hands slip beneath my tunic, and I start to tremble finely at his touch.

Once both shirts are discarded, he gently shifts and I take the hint, rising and holding my hands out.  He takes them and stands as well, then leads me to his bedroom and closes the door behind us.  There’s a fire burning low in the fireplace, though I don’t necessarily need any more warmth- and the soft glow from the fire casts a perfect light over both of us.  He kisses me gently and urges me onto the bed, and I lay back and draw him down with me, breathless.

He is endlessly gentle and thorough as he explores me, as I arch my back and make quiet sounds at each sensitive spot he finds.  He finds a spot on my side that makes me jerk and let out a muffled laugh and grins, leaning up to kiss me as he does it again just so I’ll press up hard against him.  It’s difficult not to anyway, with how badly I want him, and I’m fairly certain I’m going to fall apart as soon as he touches me.  When his hands reach my waistband he pauses and looks at me for permission, and I don’t even hesitate before nodding and lifting my hips to help him.  I tug at his trousers as well and he removes them hastily, then covers my body with his and kisses me deeply, so much so that I feel like I’m drowning- and he’s the air.

I trail my fingers along his thigh, slowly tracing the scar left there by the Ascian.  He smiles gently and kisses me, and I slide my hand up further, smiling to hear his breath hitch as I do.  I’m shy as I touch him, at least a little bit.  He sits back and leans against the wall, letting me straddle his legs again as I learn what he likes- and he does the same, taking his time.  I turn my face to press against his hair and make a soft keening sound, and he smiles, wrapping his other arm around me and holding me close.  I let him continue as long as it suits him, until he feels the time is right, and when he gently guides me, I follow… and as I sink down onto him, I kiss him desperately.

He holds me close until my shaking stops and I look down into his endless blue eyes… and when we find a rhythm that suits us both, I keep watching him, because I find I like the way he looks in this moment.  His lips part and he tips his head back, one arm wrapped securely around me and the other lingering lower still, making more soft sounds spill from me and driving me steadily toward the edge.  He makes quiet sounds as well, barely audible moans that make me hotter than I’d thought possible, and I kiss him fiercely- and then I’m falling apart, crying his name… and when he does the same, my name is like a blessing on his lips, and I drink it in as deeply as I can.

It’s a little while before I move away, falling back to the mattress with a soft exhalation and smiling when he moves over me.  I wind my arms around him and draw him down, kissing him again and again.  He nudges our noses together and kisses me once more, then looks into my eyes with a soft, gentle smile.  “I love you,” he breathes, “and I don’t care that it’s taken me this long to be able to say it- just… having the chance now means the world to me.  I am so in love with you that I can’t even go a single day without thinking of you.”

My eyes immediately flood with tears.  I draw him down and kiss him again, then press my face against his neck as I whisper those words back to him.  The ache in my chest has more or less vanished entirely now, and I am truly able to relax as he lays down beside me and pulls me into his arms, kisses away my tears and whispers I love you over and over.

I’m sure I’ll never, ever tire of hearing him say it.

We sleep for a little while, and waking up to him is the most amazing thing- he looks so peaceful.  I smile a little, then close my eyes briefly.  Not everyone can be so blessed, I remind myself, to be so loved by two amazing people… and though one is gone, the other is here with me, and all I want is for this moment to last forever.  He seems to sense that I am awake and opens his eyes slowly, and the look on his face makes me smile broadly and kiss him- he looks so surprised, so happy, to see me there.

“I thought it might have been a dream, at first,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough with sleep.  “I truly didn’t want to wake, if that were the case.”

I shake my head and nestle close to him, wrap my arms around him and hold him tight- and he does the same for me.  Dreams aren’t usually so sweet, I think, because eventually one has to wake… and that can be very painful, in my experience.

He nuzzles my cheekbone and makes a soft sound.  “The best dreams are ones you wake up to,” he murmurs, and I feel warm all over.  “Are you staying a little while…?”

At this point I can’t see a reason to leave at all.  I pause and then push myself up on one arm, studying his face as he opens his eyes and looks back at me.  I want to stay, if he wants me here… but after so long alone, I’m weary of it, and I don’t know if I’ll be content to be hidden.

“Hidden?”  He raises his eyebrows and takes the hand I’d rested on his chest, brushing a warm kiss to my palm, then my inner wrist.  “I think not.  I want you by my side always, not just when it’s convenient.”  He smiles gently and presses my hand to his heart.  “I’ve been alone a long time too, beloved.  I’m more than ready to settle down, as it were.”

I smile at him, relieved, and nod.  That sounds wonderful to me.  I think back to when I first arrived and hesitate, then lean down to kiss him.  I need him to know I don’t blame him, that it wasn’t his fault- that there was nothing any of us could have done.

He listens to me and smiles a little.  “I know,” he says softly.  “At least… I know there was nothing that could have been done.  I didn’t think you blamed me, but… some nights, laying here by myself- I wondered if perhaps you hated me for the choice you had to make.”

I bite my lip hard and shake my head.  I don’t hate him, and it wasn’t a choice- but I can certainly say I hate myself for letting him think that, even for a moment.

“Shh… don’t say that- and don’t think it.”  He smiles again and nudges our noses together, something unique to him that I’m rapidly finding I adore- a gentle symbol of affection, of reassurance.  “I like to think he’d be happy for us.”

I smile shakily and nod.  He is, that I know for certain.

Aymeric yawns and draws me down with him again, making a soft, contented sound.  “I could sleep for the next two days,” he murmurs.

I could too, I think, but eventually people will wonder where we’ve gone.  I kiss him on the nose and smile at him, and he smiles back.

“You’re right, unfortunately,” he replies.  “There’s much to be done today as always… well- perhaps not, given that I doubt there’s much of today left.”  He grins and kisses me playfully.  “Aside from that, I’ve a feeling you haven’t been eating well again.”

I blink and look down at myself.  I suppose I’m a little thin, but my physical condition hasn’t deteriorated.  I would, however, love to enjoy a meal with him, and I rise from the bed and stretch.

He stands as well and embraces me from behind, leaning down to kiss the side of my neck.  I immediately tilt my head and make a quiet, pleased sound, lifting my hands and resting them on his arms.  I can hardly believe my luck, that this can be my reality, my every-day normal… but, part of me thinks I’ve certainly earned it.  That someone as amazing as him loves me despite all the broken pieces, that’s the most incredible part.  He’s watched me love someone else, and he’s watched me lose that love to a horrible, cruel twist of fate… and he’s been there all along, quiet and unassuming, staying steadfast by my side even when I’d tried to tell him to leave.

That, I think, is what it means to be blessed.

I turn in his embrace and kiss him deeply, hold him tight- and when he sinks back down onto the bed, drawing me with him and mumbling something about food waiting for a little while, I smile and lose myself in everything that makes him who he is…

… and I don’t plan on getting un-lost any time soon.