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When you return, a warm hearth and a warmer welcome will be waiting.
I sit up slowly in the dark room, lit by the glowing of embers on the hearth, and slowly push my hair out of my face. It’s late- who knows how late, really, or cares at this point. I’ve been sleeping, but I never sleep particularly well… even now, I think with a wry twist of my lips, after a very long day.
It’s funny, I think to myself, how time can be measured. Minutes can drag on like days during a harrowing journey with no end in sight… or they can fly by in frantic heartbeats during battle. They ebb and flow like the ocean, like the never-ending tide. Hours can seem like raindrops or like eternities… and precious seconds drift through one’s grasp like sand through an hourglass.
He sleeps on his stomach, I note, and my wry smile softens into something genuine. His arms are tucked beneath his pillow, silvery hair falling over his face and brushing his shoulders- he looks peaceful as I’ve never seen him. Lord Haurchefant of House Fortemps is very rarely, if ever, sitting still. Even when sitting he’s constantly moving, sifting through papers or making notes or gesticulating wildly as he tells a story. His trademark smile is never far from his lips, nor is his laugh from his voice… but, as I recall, both were suspiciously missing when he invited me to his chamber. He was smiling, certainly, but not in the same way.
I remember how it felt to have his hands buried in my hair, to have his mouth crushed against mine as he pulled me tight against himself, and my own smile widens again as I lay back, gazing up at the ceiling. I am, unfortunately, wide awake… and I really should be slipping out so nobody sees me in the morning. Something keeps me, however, and I turn my head to look at him again, expression now somewhat pensive. His words from before I left echo in my mind, a warm hearth and a warmer welcome- and he certainly hadn’t been lying- but I don’t find myself in this position often.
As though he senses me watching him, he stirs a little and opens his eyes. They are pale blue, the same color as the winter sky when the clouds give way, and I have seen them just as cold and hard… but never, it seems, when he looks at me. Certainly not tonight. I feel a bit of heat come to my face and know that I am blushing, but he doesn’t seem to notice- or if he does, he brushes it off. “You can’t sleep?” he murmurs, his voice soft and a little slurred.
I shake my head slightly. I’m quiet by nature, preferring to watch and listen as opposed to speak, and that’s earned me no small amount of teasing- dismayed teasing, sometimes- from Thancred, who accuses me of giving him a ‘stoic nod’ all too often. My expression darkens a bit, as thinking of him takes me back to my nightmare, in which I relived the heart-wrenching experience of beating him to within an inch of his life to free him from the Ascian, Lahabrea, who’d taken over his body. That’s a fairly common thing I see in my dreams… that, along with things which might have happened had I done one thing differently, made one misstep, drawn one wrong breath at times.
He rolls over onto his back and holds his arms out, and as I lay down and he tucks me close, the nightmare fades away again. “Sometimes I can’t either,” he murmurs. I close my eyes halfway and smile a bit, listening to the steady beat of his heart and enjoying the sensation of simply being held. I don’t allow this, not even on the off-chance I have the time or inclination to take a random lover, as it simply never feels right and I can’t relax… but that hasn’t been the case with him, as I’d thought- and feared. Someone like me can’t afford this sort of attachment. “Love” is not something that someone like me should indulge in. Someone like me should be strong, should be independent, should be entirely self-reliant. Someone like me…
“Someone like you?” he asks, and I realize I spoke at least part of that out loud. I blink, struggling to remember exactly how much I’d said, but when the question lingers I assume those three words were all that had managed to worm their way out.
I exhale, not quite a sigh, and nestle a little closer. Love is weakness, love is distraction, love is what very nearly got me killed as I fought Lahabrea for Thancred’s life. I’ve come to love my friends, my fellow Scions, dearly- and because of that love, I’d been torn and tempted to hold back, to let Lahabrea go and find another way. Had I done so, had I let my desire not to harm Thancred overwhelm my sense of duty, I likely wouldn’t even be here anymore. The Scions are like family, he is a brother with which I hadn’t been born, and the tears that blinded me as I fought were proof enough that I’d gotten too attached.
And now… and now, this is something entirely different. There was no sense of the attachment siblings share with Haurchefant, there never had been. There was always something in the way he’d looked at me, something in the way I’d glanced back as I left for whatever task I was on about… something that nobody else had come close to matching. He seemed to know what he was doing, which was a relief, because I certainly didn’t- I was no innocent child, but hardly having two seconds to myself, I wasn’t exactly what anyone would consider a high-quality partner. He’d found that charming, I thought, or maybe he just hadn’t noticed because it was easy for me to mask inexperience with intense focus.
The silence lingers on for long enough that answering his question seems awkward, and he chuckles quietly. It’s a different sound from his usual laugh- it’s soft and warm, like the blankets we’re nestled under. “Someone like you,” he muses. “I can think of a lot of things to follow those words- and to precede them.” I push myself up onto my arm and raise an eyebrow at him, and he smiles, putting his arms over his head. “I’ve never met someone like you before. You willingly throw yourself into harm’s way as often as you can for the sake of those who can’t, and yet try as I may, I can’t think of anyone else who is someone like you.”
That, I think, is a load of dung, and he laughs when I tell him so. All the Scions are like that, and, as it happens, so is almost every knight and soldier I’ve come across. After all, isn’t that the entirety of the point? Don’t we all risk our lives for the sake of others in the name of duty?
“Is that what you think?” he asks, amused, and I realize I’ve spoken out loud again and silently curse myself. “I don’t think duty is what drives you.” When I raise my eyebrow at him again, he reaches up and touches my cheek. His fingers are callused from years of swordplay, and yet I wouldn’t have them any other way. “No, my friend, I think it is something else entirely. Duty is performed out of a sense of obligation. You are not at all obligated to go around killing primals and saving the world one step at a time, and yet here you are.” His smile softens, as does the look in his eyes, and I suddenly crave the taste of his mouth- and it’s a long moment before I draw away and let him finish his thought, though it takes him a moment to regroup. “I think,” he said softly, “you do what you do out of love.”
I’m silent as I study him, looking for any hint that he might be joking or that there might be more following that statement- but there’s nothing. He truly believes what he’s saying, and more than that, he’s not so narrow-minded as to think it’s love for any one person… and though I wasn’t sure it was possible, my opinion of him goes up yet another notch. This is the first night we’ve spent together, though not the first time he’s offered. Shiva is no more, Ishgard’s view of us has risen further yet, but I don’t care about any of that. I hadn’t taken Shiva on to prove Ser Aymeric wrong, nor to prove Alphinaud right… I’d done it because, as had been true in the past, there was nobody else who could- or would, perhaps. Maybe, I think, he’s right, in a way… although that’s more deep thinking than I truly want to indulge in at the moment. I nod slowly, and his smile widens.
“And that,” he says softly, “is why I’ve never met someone like you- nor will I ever again. There is only one you.”
I kiss him again to hide the tears that spring to my eyes, and it’s more than enough to let him draw me down once more. I focus on that and nothing else, on him alone, and for a little while it’s fair to pretend that nothing outside this room exists. When the sun comes up there will be more to do, and despite his words, it will be duty that causes us to part- his duty to his House and his men, and mine to the Scions and the world at large. Perhaps, however, as I’d thought before… perhaps he’s right- and wrong.
Hear, think, feel… and for now, in this moment, for this night- forever, probably- love.