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Chapter Text

Her first night sheltered in Camp Dragonhead, the Warrior of Light laid alone in her quarters unable to sleep. Minfilia, Y'shtola, Thancred, Yda, Papalymo... all of them, gone in danger's path to secure her escape, their fates unknown. The Sultana, a truly kind monarch who had given her so much hope for the future of such a corrupt nation as Ul'dah, dead, the light in her eyes snuffed out before her while she could only watch, powerless to help. She dared not imagine the state Raubahn must now be in, severed of both his arm and the charge he held dear, if indeed he had managed to leave the banquet with his life.

She was safe here, she had been promised, and she wanted to believe it. But she did not deserve to be safe, when so many faced danger in her name, slipping through her fingers like the sands that threatened to bury them.

What was the point of being Hydaelyn's chosen warrior if she could not even protect the ones she cared for?

It haunted her, like the many deaths of innocents that had followed in her wake. The many Scions at the Waking Sands, senselessly slain by Garlean troops pursuing her. Sweet, trusting Noraxia. Moenbryda, who had chosen her own fate yes, but whose very life she had been forced to wield as a weapon. She'd carried their lifeless bodies, felt the weight of their sacrifice in her arms as she laid them to rest.

The wind howled fiercely outside the fortress walls, but it did not drown out the churning maelstrom of grief and worry in her heart.

Lord Haurchefant had been extremely generous, as was his wont, and granted her, Alphinaud and Tataru each their own small but well-appointed room in the section of the barracks reserved for important guests. Her hearth was modest but warm, and her bed was spacious and comfortable. But she could not bring herself to rest.

Giving up on tossing and turning any longer, she got up and pulled on a warm sweater and her traveling cloak, hoping that perhaps a short walk in the freezing Coerthan night would either clear her head or leave her begging to return to her bed.

It was very late and the winding dimly lit corridors of the barracks were empty and silent, so when she turned a corner into the main entry hall and was met with a familiar face dusted with melting snowflakes, she nearly jumped in surprise.

"Oh!" Haurchefant exclaimed, holding a gloved hand to his chest in surprise. "My friend, what are you doing up and about at this hour?" He gave her a look over, taking in her traveling garb, and his face softened with concern. "Surely you aren't planning on departing? It threatens to storm something fierce ere long. While I have tremendous faith in your abilities, my friend, I fear even you may not make it far."

She shook her head emphatically, and he visibly relaxed. "No, I simply... well, sleep eludes me, so I thought I might walk around camp and take in the night air a bit so that I might have a chance to find it."

He showed her a sympathetic grimace. "Ah. Well then, I won't keep you from it. That said... if a supportive ear might lend you more comfort than the howling winds outside, I have two I might offer you." He gestured smoothly down the length of one of his pointed ears, and she couldn't help but chuckle, causing him to smile warmly at her amusement.

She hesitated, considering his offer. For as long as she had known this man, he had always had nothing but the utmost faith in her, clearly admiring her as both a friend and as the Hero of Eorzea. Would he think the same of her if she confided in him her doubts?

But the thought of leaving his kind, friendly face for the freezing cold outside suddenly seemed preposterous.

"If it would be no trouble," she replied with an embarrassed incline of her head.

"It could never be," he assured her, then quickly brushed the snowflakes free from his pale, messy hair. "I daresay the mess hall should be unoccupied at this hour, let us talk there."

She nodded in agreement, and he led her down a couple of unfamiliar, dimly-lit corridors before opening a door to a spacious dining room.

The room was, as suspected, empty and pitch dark. Haurchefant grabbed a flint from his pocket and lit a candle by the entryway, using it to light a couple of lamps before setting it on a small table. He pulled out its two chairs, gesturing for her to sit down with him. She shrugged off her traveling cloak and draped it on the back of the chair before sitting down, while he took off his gloves and used them to quickly dust the rest of the snow off his armor.

"What were you doing out this late, Haurchefant?" She found herself asking before she could think the better of it.

"Ah, just helping make preparations for the storm. 'Tis not expected to last longer than midday, nor do much lasting damage, but things need tying down, chocobos need warm blankets, that sort of thing."

She couldn't help but wonder if these sorts of tasks were something his subordinates normally let their commander assist them with, but she put the thought aside, nodding.

"But please, never mind that. Your recent troubles weigh heavy on your heart, do they not? It is plain to see."

She drew in a breath, looking down at the wooden tabletop. "You have the right of it. When... when I close my eyes," she began, fingers gripping the table's edge as if to brace herself against her memories. "I see them. All of them. The Sultana, she had invited me to tea. She spoke of a brave new future, her eyes shining with hope. And then she... she..."

A calloused hand silently covered her own, and she drew in a shaky breath, forcing herself to continue. "I saw the light in her eyes flicker and fade, Haurchefant. Her supposed champion, and I could do nothing but watch her die, unable to even cry out for help, twisting in agony as she fell. All that, and it is only by the ones I am meant to protect putting themselves in harm's way for my sake that I am still here. I..." she trailed off, then slipped her hand free from his tightened grip and into her lap, trying hopelessly to feign a smile. "Forgive me, I am not myself at the moment."

She felt his hands upon her shoulders, and instinct forced herself to look up from her lap and meet his gaze. He had bent his long torso over the table, and was looking at her with an expression of heartbroken sympathy. "A great hero you may be, but you are only one woman, my friend. You cannot always save everyone alone."

She blinked, biting her lip. "I know this, but..."

He shook his head decisively, gently pushing at her shoulders for emphasis. "What you have witnessed would threaten to break anyone. We are all powerless at times, no matter how strong. Pray do not blame yourself. Allow yourself to grieve."

She did not realize the tears were falling until Haurchefant had handed her a handkerchief, and then there was nothing she could do to stop herself from sobbing like a child in front of the kind man who had given her shelter when none else could. It had been years since she'd cried so openly in front of anyone, hesitant as she was to burden the other Scions with her grief when they all looked to her for hope. She cried for minutes, occasionally stammering half-formed apologies which the Elezen gently hushed, simply squeezing her hand gently from across the table and slowly anchoring her back into the present.

Finally she caught her breath with a sniffle, wiping the last of her tears with his now-damp handkerchief.

"Thank you," she said quietly, looking up at him with an apologetic smile that was no longer false.

"'Twas nothing," he dismissed, letting go of her hand. "Would that I could offer you more than mere words."

"But you have," she insisted. "Truly, you have done — are still doing — so much for all of us."

"If I did not aid my dear friend and her allies in their time of need, what manner of knight would I be? Please, pay me no mind. I am simply glad that you are safe."

The lingering ache of grief still stung bitterly in her chest, but looking to meet his eyes, care and relief writ plain across his features, soothed its sting. She offered him a grateful smile and he returned it, bowing his head slightly as if perhaps in thought.

In the wake of her catharsis, in the company of a true friend, she finally felt a wave of bone-deep fatigue set in, her eyes closing for a moment of their own accord. "I think I may be able to find sleep now," she remarked, still holding his damp handkerchief in her fist. "I will return this once it has been washed, if that is alright with you."

"Of course, take as long as you need."

He rose to his feet when she did, stepping ahead of her to graciously open the door for her, then pausing behind her to snuff the candle and oil lamps. "Shall I escort you back to your quarters, or do you know the way?"

She shook her head. "I will be fine, thank you."

"Very well." Haurchefant nodded, closing the door and taking a step towards the opposite way from which they came. "If you find there is anything you need — anything at all, please do not hesitate to call on me. I will come to your aid in a heartbeat."

Despite the despair and betrayal from others that had turned her world upside down, she knew that he would. What exactly she had done to earn this man's friendship she had never been quite sure on, but she found that, as ever, it warmed her spirit. "Pray get some rest yourself then, for me if naught else."

He laughed, a light, joyous sound. "Then so I shall." He bowed slightly, then turned to depart. "Sleep well, my friend. A brighter dawn ever awaits."

Chapter Text

Naught but a few fleeting days had passed since his friend and her companions' sudden arrival, and Haurchefant Greystone already was loath to imagine their eventual departure. Despite the dire circumstances which had brought the four of them here, all of them, the Warrior of Light and young master Alphinaud especially, found themselves immediately keen to earn their keep, heedless of his insistence that they were his guests and need do no such thing. After he had reluctantly given them tasks around the camp — monster extermination, reconnaissance, assistance with updating his long-neglected bookkeeping, careful healing of the wounded — Camp Dragonhead had not seen such a state of order and liveliness in as long as he could remember. He found this incredible, short on staff as they were due to the Horde's attacks on the capitol. It was remarkable just how much difference the assistance of four incredibly skilled specialists could make. The Scions and their allies were made of the stuff of legends, no doubt.

But none held a candle to the Warrior of Light, who in the past three days had felled six wyverns, two elite hunt marks, and a pack of ravenous wolves that had been attacking caravans attempting to deliver supplies to Whitebrim Front. How he wished he could have witnessed her heroic deeds in battle firsthand, what he would not give to once again fight by her side...! To be stuck behind fortress walls dispatching his soldiers and filing reports while she carved up the highlands was a terrible shame.

It was a shame, too, that after running into her in the barracks late that first night they had not had an occasion to speak alone again, despite how much he had wished it.

Truth be told, the tales recounted to him that day of how she had come to seek asylum in Ishgard had haunted him, enough that he had blustered his way into forcing his subordinates to let him deal with menial tasks around camp well into the night. It was a wonder and a blessing that they had run into each other when they did, and even more a wonder still that she had trusted him enough to lay her painful feelings bare like that before him. It endeared her to him even more; made the victories she had earned feel more real.

When he did catch glimpses of her alone from a distance however, he still saw the signs of lingering grief tugging down at her features. But surrounded by her friends in the mess hall, or reporting to him of her deeds in the field, Haurchefant could see the light of hope yet determinedly glinting, ever resilient, in her eyes.

It was after one such evening's report that he finally got his wish.

"Haurchefant," she began, after he had already cheerfully congratulated her on the day's exploits and reluctantly said his farewells. She took a step closer to his desk. "If you could spare a moment, might I speak with you privately?"

He perked up immediately. "Of course, my friend!" Rising to his feet, he dismissed his officers for the evening, leaving the two of them alone in the room. "How can I be of service?"

She chuckled adorably, shyly tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "Oh no, it's nothing worth all that. I was just wondering if... well, it seems as though the gates of Ishgard will remain closed for some time yet, yes?"

Ah. A pang of disappointment. "Aye, I am afraid so. The attacks on the capitol still show no sign of ceasing, even with Ser Aymeric leading the city's defense. At this rate I would venture a guess that it will be several weeks at best until officials of the Holy See are willing to listen to our petition for asylum."

She nodded thoughtfully, remaining silent for a moment.

"If there were aught I could do to speed the process along, pray have faith that I would—"

"No, no, that is not my concern at all," she interrupted, earnestly reassuring him. "I have just been thinking... if I am going to be here for some time yet, how can I make the best of this reprieve you have afforded me?"

"Oh," he blinked, mollified.

"I have been... remembering, the times where there were people I could not protect." Her eyes were downcast and sorrowful, head bowed, and something in him felt a powerful urge to reach out between them and touch her shoulder in a gesture of comfort, but he clenched his fist at his side and let her continue. "I have long found it necessary to specialize in destructive magics to counter the power of primals. But when it comes to battle techniques that could shield my allies, I am woefully unequipped." She bit her lip, considering, then looked up at him, directly in the eye. "I was wondering if you might be able to spare some resources to train me in the sword and shield, like you and your knights."

Oh. Now this was unexpected! The Champion of Eorzea, wishing to be trained like one of his own recruits? The thought was at once both immensely flattering and flatly ridiculous. She had slain gods and channeled their power to flatten her enemies, yet she still thought there was aught she could learn from him? Well, it was true that the skills he had learned were particularly well-suited to protect civilians from the draconic onslaught, an art hard-forged from enduring a thousand years of constant war... and the thought of being able to impart any knowledge that may grant her even the tiniest sliver of strength...

He felt bright enthusiasm welling up from within. "Yes... yes, I can certainly do such a thing! If you believe it will aid you in some way, I will gladly bestow upon you every technique I know."

She stepped back, seeming surprised at this. "Oh, no, I didn't mean to ask this of you specifically — I really lack the very basics of swordsmanship, and you are very busy with your duties, so if you could spare one of your lieutenants or—"

"Nonsense," he waved dismissively. "No matter your lack of particular experience, you are the Warrior of Light. I have witnessed your swift movements on the battlefield, have seen the heavy burdens you can carry in your arms; you are no mere fragile mage."

"Well," she conceded hesitantly, "this is true, but—"

"Besides, there is admittedly some self-interest on my part. Ever since you came to mine and dear Francel's aid at Witchdrop and I witnessed your skills firsthand, I have been aching to wield my blade at your side once more. My subordinates are fine soldiers who would I am sure instruct you well, but I would not relinquish this task to them. Pray," and here he ducked into a graceful, sweeping bow, tilting his chin upwards to meet her flustered face with a hopeful smile, "do me the favor of letting me do this favor for you?"

Was that a tinge of color at her cheeks? No, no, it must be a trick of the light.

"If you insist, then I would be grateful to receive your instruction," she replied with a small casual bow of her own, after only a moment's hesitation. Then she smirked. "Please don't go easy on me."

Oh. Oh dear.

Haurchefant Greystone, get your head out of the gutter. This is your dear friend and ally, not simply an alluring passing traveler you can afford to have improper thoughts about with her right in front of you.

"I would never," he agreed with an impish grin of his own, and she nodded approvingly, bright eyes glimmering with that spark of adventure he had sorely missed.

"If it is no further trouble, could we carry out our lessons in private for the time being? I know my presence attracts attention, and I would prefer not to have a crowd witness my every novice fumble."

"Worry not, I already had such a location in mind. Shall we meet on the morrow, at... a bell before dawn, perhaps? In the barracks' entry hall? I will procure you suitable equipment in the meantime."

She nodded vigorously, seeming heartened by this. "Yes, excellent. I will be looking forward to it."

"As will I," he wholeheartedly agreed, mind buzzing. "Truth be told, I am positively giddy with excitement. To train you, the Warrior of Light!" he exclaimed, tone breathless.

She rolled her eyes and laughed, an open and inviting sound that always stole his attention. "Yes, yes, you always do flatter me." She paused, then started as if suddenly remembering something. "Oh, yes, there was something else."

Haurchefant tilted his head curiously, watching her rummage through her pockets. She pulled out a square of white cotton with the House Fortemps insignia embroidered on it — his handkerchief, and took a step closer to offer it to him.

"Thank you again," she said with a shy shrug of her shoulders. "For the other night. It really meant a lot."

Looking at her truly grateful expression, Haurchefant felt his cheeks color with warmth a bit. He bowed his head in a nod, taking his proffered handkerchief and slipping it into his pocket. "'Tis I who am grateful, that I could be there when you needed me."

She looked up at him, eyes gone slightly wide. Ah— "N-not to say, I mean, that you needed me! Rather that I just happened to be present in, ah, your time of need."

She smiled then, poorly suppressing a small laugh at his apparent fluster, and he quietly let out a breath, relaxing. "Well, I doubt just anyone would have listened the way you did, without judgment. So, yes. Thank the Twelve you were there when you were, Haurchefant."

Despite his best attempts to keep his composure, Haurchefant positively beamed. "Thank the Twelve," he agreed, a mite sheepishly. "Actually, might I ask — how are you doing? Are you sleeping well?" He didn't want to pry, but he had been speculating on her state for days.

She brought a hand to the back of her neck, hesitant. "Ah, well... I'm certainly holding up better than I was. It just... it never gets any easier to see someone die, does it?" She grimaced, leaning back against the edge of his desk, hands braced on its surface.

He had seen many, friends and strangers alike, fall to Nidhogg's horde. Soldiers, civilians, fellow trainees barely old enough to hold a blade. All memories that, while dulled, still cut deeply whenever he dwelled upon them for too long. He joined her and did the same, his chainmail tinkling loudly against the wood. "...No, it never does."

She pinched her eyes shut, nodding slowly and letting out a heavy breath. "But there is, as you kindly told Alphinaud, so much left still worth fighting for." She smiled half bitterly, as if recalling something. "For those we have lost. For those we can yet save."

He turned to her, heartened. "You speak wise words, my friend."

"They are not mine, but Minfilia's."

The Antecedent, he thought, leader of the Scions. One of many missing in the attack. Surely she must be worried sick about her right now. He thought to speak some words of comfort to her, but she spoke first.

"I must have faith," the Warrior of Light continued, gazing at nothing in front of her, as if affirming this to the heavens. "In my friends and allies. In Hydaelyn. In this path we walk, even when we stumble." His eyes were fixed on her profile; tired, yet firm and resolute. The very portrait of a hero, but deeply human. Beautiful. He could not look away.

"Aye," he breathed, admiring. "And we shall keep our faith in you in kind."

She bowed her head then, smiling as if she had said something embarrassing. "I can hardly stay down for too long with that kind of support," she shrugged. After a moment's hesitation, she then pushed herself to her feet again and turned around to face him. "I shall see you on the morrow, then?"

He blinked himself free of his reverie and agreed, both of them nodding in farewell, before thinking better of it and catching up to her as she made for the door. "If you are headed to the mess hall, might I join you and your companions? I daresay meals taste better in fine company."

"Of course," she assented warmly, holding the door open for him until he had stepped partway through and caught hold of it himself, and he followed her out into the setting sun.

Chapter Text

Early mornings were hardly the Warrior of Light's favorite time to be expected anywhere, and yet she found herself waking energized and excited for the day. Haurchefant had offered to personally train her in the sword and shield, and remembering this, even her tired, sleep-addled mind quickly cleared with anticipation.

There was something about the man and his inexhaustible optimistic enthusiasm that was incredibly contagious. She doubted she was the only one who felt this way; when he had joined her and her companions in the mess hall for supper last night, they had all brightened, the Scions chatting away almost like they would at a gathering at the Rising Stones. Even Alphinaud had seemed less self-effacing. It was truly a blessing that their last remaining shelter was here.

Haurchefant had pulled her aside for a moment last evening to tell her their training would begin indoors, and not to dress too heavily, so she pulled on a couple of light layers and gloves suitable for combat training, snuffed out the lamp behind her and made her way to the entryway where her friend had agreed to meet her.

She found said friend waiting eagerly for her, looking for all intents and purposes like he had not in fact woken and made himself presentable a full bell before dawn. He raised a hand in greeting and smiled widely when he saw her, and she returned the gesture and found her own feet hurrying to meet him in kind.

He spoke her name and wished her a good morning, then looked her up and down in the dim light and nodded approvingly. "Good, you came prepared."

She laughed, gesturing dramatically at her plainly clothed body, absent of any weapon at her hips. "I brought nothing, just like you asked."

Though, eyeing him now, he also seemed to be similarly unequipped. The Elezen seemed to be wearing plain clothes rather than his usual chainmail, although the darkness of the entryway didn't allow her to get a good look at him. I don't think I've ever seen him without his armor before, she thought, intrigued. Well, she supposed they wouldn't likely begin their lessons in full mail.

"You brought your will, your wits and your form," he replied with a curt nod, though his eyes crinkled with amusement. "Anything else you may need, I shall provide. Are you ready?"

"I am."

"Splendid," he said brightly, gesturing for her to follow him.

The path he led her down was unfamiliar, even now that she'd had a few days to familiarize herself further with the layout of the camp. The halls were still dark so she followed him very closely, both of them taking extra care as they climbed a stone staircase to an upper level of the barracks.

Finally they came to a stop before an unassuming door, Haurchefant pulling out a ring of keys from his pocket and unlocking the door before entering. When she followed him in, the room was pitch dark, but he quickly set to work lighting several lamps that lined the walls.

She shut the door behind her and took stock of her surroundings as the room began to brighten. The room was on the smaller side but not cramped, with an especially springy floor mat laid out over the stone floor. One side of the back wall held a well-appointed weapon rack, and shelves stacked with enough pieces of armor to comprise a few full suits in varying sizes. The other side, now becoming illuminated as Haurchefant lit a final couple of sconces, held racks of weights and other exercise equipment. In the center of the wall hung a tapestry bearing the House Fortemps heraldry.

"This is my personal training room," he explained, watching her take in her surroundings with his hands on his hips. "We will need to take our lessons outdoors once we progress to full combat, but it should suit our needs for now."

It was a nice, clearly well-maintained space, and she was very glad to have this place to learn where only her trusted friend would be there to witness her inevitable fumbles. She nodded approvingly, eyes finally wandering back to Haurchefant and taking him in. He was wearing plain clothes. He wore belted trousers and neatly laced boots, and, she realized as her eyes traveled up him, a rather thin half-sleeved shirt. It hugged every curve of his torso and arms, which she realized suddenly she had never had much of a good look at, thanks to his usual heavy armor. She had always assumed the pauldrons and mail made the man look more bulky than he was, especially with how thin and lanky most Elezen tended to be, but... oh Twelve. Though he certainly had the lengthy proportions common to all Elezen, Haurchefant's shoulders were broad and rounded, leading to thick, muscular upper arms, and his bare forearms were littered with faded battle scars. His chest was wide and curved to a narrow waist, and even with the layer of knit fabric covering him she could tell he was very well-built underneath. Certainly she'd been aware of the commander's fondness for muscle training — the men who often gathered in his offices doing squats between their other duties made that rather obvious — but she found seeing the direct evidence of this firsthand a bit of a shock to her senses. The soft browns of his attire brought out the blue in his hair and eyes and made him look rather effortlessly handsome. He faced her with his usual fond smile in his eyes and she felt a small leap of panic in her chest. He was... well, she found him rather attractive, she realized with a bit of horror, and they were alone in this room together.

This is fine, she told herself, you are a warrior. You have seen more shirtless, ripped Roegadyn men in the taverns of Limsa Lominsa than you would care to count, and that never bothered you. This is a normal part of training, and he is your friend and ally, don't make things weird.

She tore her eyes upwards to meet his and put on a polite smile. "Alright. How shall we begin?"

"Well," he brought a knuckle to his lips, considering. "I must admit, I am used to training those brought up in the knighthood. 'Tis simple to assess what must needs be taught if one shares the same martial background, but it is something else entirely to instruct one whose capabilities are certainly immense, but ultimately unknown. I believe that first, I must take your measure."

She nodded, slipping into an unarmed grappling stance with ease. He started, eyes flashing with delight, before barking out a laugh and shaking his head.

"Peace, friend. You certainly are eager!" She dropped her stance and cocked her head at him, confused. "I would truly like nothing more than to spar with you, but all things in time. First I would hear your history with fighting, in words alone."

Ah. Right.

She nodded, and explained her background to him. She had been long trained in several martial arts, and even after taking up magic, had not lapsed in her physical training. She'd learned to wield fists, knives and greataxes, but never a sword. He listened to her explanation with rapt attention.

"A greataxe, you say," he said with a tone of wonder, looking her over. She was a fairly petite woman, looking more apparently suited to the magic she normally wielded than wielding a bulky greataxe at a glance, and was not surprised at this reaction, though his curious gaze felt somewhat intense. "Wielding such a heavy weapon requires a considerable amount of upper body strength, does it not?"

She nodded; it absolutely did. She had spent long weeks just building up the muscle necessary to lift the weapon, and many more getting her body used to the immense strain of wielding it in battle.

He bit his lip, an action that caught her attention. "...May I see?"

"My skills with a greataxe?" She asked. "I have brought none with me, and in truth it has been some time since I last wielded—"

Haurchefant shook his head, cutting her off. "No. Your body."

Oh. She flushed, unconsciously gripping a hand to her chest. Certainly he doesn't mean—

His eyes widened at her reaction, and he flushed, embarrassed. "I— forgive me, I only wish to examine your physique. The shield and armor are heavy, and normally take many months of physical training to adapt to, but if you have built up the requisite strength for a greataxe, then—"

Right. Right, yes, that made sense. "Oh, of course," she agreed, immediately unbuttoning her light leather armor and gauntlets, and slipping off the long-sleeved shirt she wore underneath. She had on a proper sleeveless shirt above her smalls, and so she stood rather comfortably in front of him, arms exposed.

The Warrior of Light was a relatively tall woman among her own people, but was rather short and petite next to the towering Haurchefant. Despite this, she was most definitely a warrior, and had carefully honed a body that, while still soft and feminine at first glance, concealed lean, powerful muscle. This became very apparent when she flexed, which she did now, lifting her forearm to show her instructor the strength she had built.

Haurchefant's mouth hung slightly open, eyes filled with what looked like admiration. "Splendid," he said breathlessly, stepping closer to get a better look. "And the other...?"

All this attention had her feeling a bit flustered, but she lifted her other arm and flexed it for him nonetheless, showing off her firm biceps.

"Absolutely marvelous," he murmured almost reverently, and she felt herself flush a bit under his attentions. "Yes, yes, this should do splendidly."

She only partially suppressed the smile that his praise drew from her as she relaxed, putting a hand to her hip. "Anything else you'd like to assess?"

He nodded eagerly. "Your endurance," he answered. "Maneuvering effectively in armor takes not only tremendous core strength but stamina as well. May I challenge you to a series of exercises to test your ability?" He smirked, extending a hand in offer to her.

She clasped his large hand firmly in hers and grinned. She loved a challenge, and from his build she had no doubts he was more than a worthy opponent. "You're on."

Haurchefant led her in a series of calisthenics, beginning slowly with short sets of warmup exercises to limber them both up. Some were slightly different than what she was used to practicing on her own, but many were exercises she had long made a part of her daily routine, to his delight.

"So," she huffed after another set of squats, catching her breath slightly with her hands against her thighs, "When do we get to the challenging part?"

He smiled down at her, leaning confidently with a hand on his hip. "Now that we have loosened up a bit, I would like for us to repeat these exercises. But this time, I would ask that you do as many as you can of each without faltering, to get a sense of how much strain your body can take. Of course, I will accompany you in this task. You are welcome to attempt to outpace me; I will be best pleased if you can."

She grinned, standing fully upright, then twisted from side to side in a limbering stretch. "I will give it my all."

It turned out Haurchefant wasn't kidding, and this most certainly was a challenge. Being the Warrior of Light may have exponentially increased her magical abilities, and lent her supernatural physical endurance during times when lives were on the line, but the Echo did not deign to strengthen her ability to best her charming Elezen friend at a battle of simple body weight exercises. Still, she did her utmost to make sure it wasn't an easy win for him, keeping up with him neck and neck for most of it, though she was only able to best him at the very first exercise. By the time she collapsed backwards onto the mat, unable to pull herself up for even another crunch, both of them were dripping in sweat, pulses pounding.

"Mercy," she panted, core muscles feeling as though they were nearly afire, the rest of her body aching.

Haurchefant groaned in exhaustion, bringing himself to do one more rep before gently falling backwards and joining her on the mat, breathing heavily. "By the Fury," he laughed, breathless. "I actually won."

She panted out a laugh, turning her head to look at him. He grinned back at her, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his sleeve, glowing with hard-earned victory. He looked every bit in his element to her, like he too came more alive the harder he worked himself, and she couldn't help but smile as she caught her breath.

"Congratulations," she praised, watching his chest puff up a bit at her compliment. "Though I daresay you likely have a few more in you," she teased, and he laughed again.

"Perhaps a scant few, but no more than that, I swear it," he said, waving his hand in the air dismissively as she wearily brought herself to a sitting position, bracing her weight backwards onto her palms. He joined her, running a hand through his messy hair to smooth it. "You gave me a challenge, truly. None of my knights would come close. You have certainly honed an impressive physique."

His pale eyes roved over her body in a way that didn't quite feel inappropriate, but would probably have made her blush if she wasn't already flush with exertion. She was proud of her body, her entire lifestyle only made possible by the abilities she had deliberately and persistently honed, but she was not used to this sort of attention to her form, only general praise of her strength. Unless she was being outright hit on, of course, but that was different. Haurchefant's gaze was always intense, almost like he could see through to the heart of people, and that gaze being fixed on her body felt a bit overwhelming.

"I could say the same to you," she returned, playfully giving his upper arm a light punch. Twelve, but it was hard, and the fabric of his sleeve was slightly humid from exercise. "If I had done that any harder I may have injured my hand," she laughed, leaning back on her arms again.

"I do my best," he replied nonchalantly, rising to his feet, but he clearly preened at the compliment, in a way she found endearing. "Well, clearly you should have no trouble going straight into training with full gear. Though I fear it must wait until tomorrow. I have tired you out already, and unfortunately our time before the morning bell shall soon be coming to a close..."

She started to climb to her feet and he offered her his hand. She gladly took it, letting him pull her up. He walked over to a table where he had prepared them both towels and waterskins, and they sat there together, toweling off their sweat and quickly draining their waterskins in their thirst.

"Ahhh, I needed that," she sighed after she'd drank the last sip, setting her empty container on the table between them. "As eager as I am to learn actual techniques, I very much enjoyed the workout. I haven't had a friendly challenge like that in quite some time, much less against a worthy opponent."

"I am full glad to be found worthy," Haurchefant intoned in a husky voice, smiling softly, and she felt an excited shiver down her spine and averted her eyes, idly patting down the back of her neck again with her towel.

Why was he getting her so flustered today? It was just Haurchefant, and although the man was at times a bit intense, it was certainly always in a way she found rather delightful. Yes, he was handsome, and charming, and an admirable knight, and well-built, and... well, attractive, but usually such qualities in her friends didn't interfere with her friendships. He wasn't even flirting with her, and even were it so, she'd been uninterested even in Thancred's blatant attempts at seducing her, and that man had other women falling all over him. It must be the endorphins, she thought, the high from our workout is getting to my head.

We are friends, she reminded herself. You do not want to ruin this important friendship for some silly passing fancy. Get your head on straight. She steeled herself, willing her embarrassment away, and hung her dirty towel over the back of the chair.

A loud rumble startled her out of her thoughts, and Haurchefant looked down at himself sheepishly. "I seem to have worked up an appetite."

She let out a laugh which he returned, then suddenly noticed her own hunger. "Yes, I suppose that was quite a lot before breakfast."

He nodded. "Not ideal, I agree, but until I am able to hold a meeting and rearrange my daily schedule, this is the only time I can meet with you privately without drawing attention," he explained. She'd figured that was the case when he'd suggested this time. "But I do train here every morning before breakfast."

He suddenly raised his hand as if remembering something, then dug around in his pants pocket and pulled out a key on a small leather cord, presenting it to her. "This is a spare key to this room. You are welcome to join me here any morning you like. For sword and shield training, or simply for a morning warm-up."

"That is very kind," she said, taking the key from him and closing it tightly in her fist before pocketing it. "I think I shall take you up on that offer quite often," she found herself agreeing with a broad smile, and he smiled back at her, eyes gleaming with delight.

"Splendid," he gushed, and she felt a bit dazed again in the sheer brightness of his enthusiasm.

Just then, the morning bell rang loud and clear, signaling the time for everyone to wake up and sleepily file in to the mess hall. She rose to her feet, pushing the chair in behind her. "Breakfast, then?"

He rose to join her, handing her her discarded extra layers, which she pulled back on as he went and strapped himself in to his armor.

"Breakfast," he agreed, and held the door open for them to leave.

Tataru Taru may not have taken her morning tea yet, drowsy as she was from a somewhat fitful sleep, but she still had keen merchant's eyes. Seated on a bench in the mess hall across from a half-dozing Alphinaud, she did not miss Lord Haurchefant and the Warrior of Light filing into the room together, both looking quite well-colored.

She was so startled, she dropped two extra sugar cubes into her tea with a rather audible splash, causing Alphinaud to blink blearily out of his stupor.

"Goodness Tataru, are you taking tea or making syrup?" He frowned, then dug a spoon into his hot porridge.

"Oh, clumsy me," she chirped nervously, pouring some extra tea into her cup to try and salvage it.

Alphinaud chuckled softly and went back to his meal, and she immediately searched the room for the pair she'd spotted. They were in line for food now, Haurchefant animatedly chatting away with the serving staff as he plated his food, while the Warrior slowly and calmly filled her tray with breakfast offerings a few heads behind him.

Perhaps she had imagined things? She really had not slept very well, and would probably need to take an afternoon nap...

She brought her cup to her mouth. Blech. Practically syrup, Alphinaud was right. She sighed, dumped it over her pancakes, then poured herself another cup of tea.

Chapter Text

By the time Haurchefant Greystone found himself in his training room awaiting his friend's arrival, he was practically beside himself with anticipation.

Yesterday's physical endurance test with the Warrior of Light had not left his mind since it had happened. Despite the fact that he was to be training her, she had truly pushed him to his limits, a high he had not experienced in some time. As commander, he was not often tasked with front line defense in battle, a fact he both logically appreciated and privately loathed. He secretly craved a challenge, a chance to test his full capabilities; an opportunity to defiantly prove himself despite overwhelming odds, a tendency he'd had long since his youth. With age and trained discipline he'd come to learn the recklessness of this impulse and had tamped it down. But facing off against the Warrior, his dear and trusted friend, meant he could feed this reckless desire of his without any real danger. He had seen that same defiant spark in her eyes, too, recognizing his own and silently urging him onward. And her body, beside him, previously well-concealed muscles straining as they were pushed to their own limits, droplets of sweat glistening on her exquisitely chiseled, bare forearms...

Fury chastise him for thinking of his friend's body so, but the memory made his pulse pound. She was truly a work of art. And to be granted the honor of sculpting her further, even if only the tiniest bit—

The rattling click at the door, and her sudden bright presence in the room as she entered, immediately snapped him out of his fevered imaginings.

"Well met and good morning, my friend," he greeted warmly. "You have come!"

"Good morning," she echoed, closing the door and approaching him, looking over his body then meeting his eyes with a smile. "You look quite well today, ser Haurchefant."

"I could be in naught but top form knowing you would be arriving for my instruction," he replied, watching her eyes break away from his with a self-effacing motion, but still clearly seeming pleased. He gestured a hand in invitation. "Shall we begin?"

His usual morning exercises were made many times more enjoyable with the Warrior of Light by his side. As yesterday, she stripped off her outer layer to reveal lithe and powerful bare arms, which she gladly warmed up beside him, following his lead and matching his every motion. It was absolutely invigorating.

Once they had warmed up, they both took a few sips of water and Haurchefant led her to the side of the room where he kept his armor and arms.

"Today our training begins in earnest," he said eagerly. "But first, I must outfit you with armor. Have you ever worn mail or plate before?"

She shook her head. "Not more than a pauldron over leather armor, no."

He nodded thoughtfully. "'Tis a challenge to don without assistance if you are unpracticed. I will gladly show you how."

He did not offer this help selfishly — she really would need it, this first time at the very least. But he could not help but feel excitement at the prospect of outfitting her, of tightening buckles and straps around her beautifully heroic figure. ...But these flights of fantasy would not do him good.

"Thank you," she replied, pulling her overshirt back over her head, then stopping midway, tangled in the fabric. "...I assume I should be putting this back on, right?"

"Yes," he said amid a mirthful laugh, and she giggled sheepishly as she pulled the shirt fully back on. "Unless you like the feeling of chainmail pinching at your skin."

"I rather think I wouldn't."

He picked up the first piece of armor, a reinforced padded jacket to go under her mail. "'Twas a challenge to find armor not sized for a typical Elezen knight among our stores, but I am hopeful that enough pieces among these sets I have gathered should suit you."

She nodded gratefully, allowing him to instruct her on how to put on the mail, and to offer assistance when necessary. He dedicated himself seriously to this task, firmly pushing any untoward thoughts from his mind. A buckle tightened just so here, an unfamiliar clasp mechanism there — occasionally a piece did not fit her, and he had to grab another. The sollerets were a particular challenge, as Elezen feet generally came quite large, but eventually they found a match. At last, she pulled on her gauntlets and fastened vambraces around her elbows, and the armor was complete.

Halone, but she cut a striking figure, every bit a dashing lady knight in gleaming silver mail. And there was something about seeing her dressed like one of his knights that threatened to overwhelm his senses. He inhaled slowly through his nose, gathering himself.

"How do I look?" she asked, striking a knightly pose, wrists clasped behind the small of her back, chin lifted to face him.

He started a bit, not expecting such a question or posture. "Absolutely splendid," he replied with full sincerity, and she smiled, looking pleased. Well. "Though I daresay a more elegant dress armor may even better suit a decorated hero such as yourself, I would be thrilled to receive such a knight among my ranks," he teased, and she rolled her eyes playfully, causing him to breathe in deeply with satisfaction. "More importantly, however - how does it feel?"

She hummed curiously to herself and made a few movements, twisting her hips and bending her limbs to test her range of motion. "Can I be frank?" He nodded. "I find it... rather stifling," she said with a frown, flexing her fingers in her new, yet-stiff leather gloves.

"That is to be expected," he conceded. "The armor will weigh on you and feel unnecessarily restrictive for a time. 'Tis crafted for the purpose of defense and not your usual quick dancing footwork, after all. But with practice, your movements will become light again, and you shall come to find it an incredible asset in your ability to withstand attacks meant for others."

She nodded, brow firm with a sudden air of grave seriousness. Despite the way she let herself get swept into his lighthearted banter, she truly was not approaching this undertaking lightly, he thought. The Warrior of Light fights for all Eorzea, he reminded himself. To protect people she did not know, even sometimes from city-states she didn't belong to, or from the beast tribes no less, she struggled and plotted and felled false gods. There was no sense in instilling the philosophy of knighthood into her. She already embodied the ideal completely.

"I will endeavor to get used to it quickly, then."

"I have no doubt but that you will," he assured her, then made to don his own armor. "While I prepare myself, why not do a few laps around the room to acclimate yourself?"

She gladly obliged, walking gradually quickening steps around the perimeter of the room as he strapped himself into his own armor.

The Warrior of Light felt more than a bit clumsy and awkward in her new gear as she paced, a feeling only augmented by occasional glances at her friend as he deftly equipped himself, a process that still took minutes even with his practiced precision. She had not realized just how many layers there were to such attire, each requiring careful attention to fit properly and allow full range of movement. He had fussed over the clasps at her torso and the back of her legs, making sure they were adjusted just so, and marking each adjustment with metal pins, so she would be able to easily reequip them. This had called for him to bring his head close to her body to observe his work, and once again she had found herself distracted and dizzy as her eyes were caught on long sweeping silver lashes underneath soft blue bangs, brow furrowed as he held a steel pin between his teeth.

She was, quite certainly, full glad to now be distracting herself from such mental imagery with exercise. From their very first meeting, she had found Lord Haurchefant to be quite charming, but there had certainly been far too much going on in her life at that point to be drawn in too close by his charms. And, undoubtedly, many of her friends and allies had been very charming and attractive, and she had never been particularly diverted by such qualities in them, general admiration aside. Not that she had not had lovers, of course, but such things were distant and fleeting memories at this point.

Regardless, she'd hoped the spark of flickering interest she'd felt was naught more than a heady rush from pushing her body to its limits alongside him. It was disconcerting that even now, with the serious task ahead of her of learning to fight in defense of her allies, she still found his finer features captivating.

Perhaps it was how his eyes followed her, always crinkled at the edges, smiling. Perhaps it was the open sincerity with which he always praised her, cheering her on, or the way his body seemed to expand with pride at her slightest compliment. Or perhaps it was how, at her lowest point, he had put his hands on hers and simply been there, fully accepting her pain and not thinking any less than the world of her for it.

She was not sure, but she knew that she needed to endeavor to rid herself of such preoccupations if she were to learn from him properly. He lifted an arm, clicking the fastener on one of his pauldrons into place, and she tore her eyes away from him and broke into a full run, focusing on adjusting to how the weight of the armor altered her kinetic energy.

He let out a cheer of approval at this, and she laughed, bringing her attention back to her run once again.

After he was fully dressed in his armor with sword and shield strapped to his body, and she had stopped to catch her breath, he stood before her and presented her with her own sword and shield. She partially unsheathed the blade to get a look at its well-honed edge before sliding it into the sword belt at her hip, then took the shield in her hands. It was of the same make as all the other shields at Camp Dragonhead, a dark steel kite shield emblazoned with the crest of House Fortemps, and it felt quite heavy in her grasp. It was certainly not the weight of a greataxe on its own, but alongside the sword and armor, it was very substantial.

He looked at her with approval as she hefted it. "I am sure you may wish to paint over our heraldry as you like when you are not acting in our name, but this equipment is yours to keep, and to use in battle however you see fit."

She started, taken aback. "Haurchefant, I can't simply take this from you—"

He raised a hand to silence her. "Nonsense. You can and you will. You have done great deeds in service of all of us at Camp Dragonhead; a spare set of armaments is the very least we can do."

Everything she'd been equipped with felt brand new, likely taken from the camp's stores of gear issued to new knights. She figured he intended to let her borrow the gear for their practice, not for her to keep it. "I have coin," she protested further, but he just shook his head, standing firm. She sighed, softening. "...If you insist, then I am very much obliged."

He smiled graciously. "If you wish to show your gratitude, then I would be well pleased to see you do so by applying yourself to your training," he said, a look of eagerness spreading across his face. She nodded seriously in answer, affixing her shield to its hanger at the back of her armor as she'd observed him doing many times. "Excellent," he remarked, approving eyes following the motion. "Now then, I shall begin by demonstrating the basic stances and proper ways of drawing and holding your weapons. Do try to follow along."

She did indeed follow along quite well, much to his delight. Haurchefant was an excellent instructor, doling out praise when appropriate and honing in on her flaws and correcting them in an exacting way that still felt just as supportive. It was no wonder the men and women of Camp Dragonhead were so loyal to him; not that she'd ever had any occasion to doubt why.

Their lesson moved on to swinging a sword in one of the stances he'd demonstrated, and she emulated his motion as best she could, frowning in concentration and then repeating the swing again.

"Ah," he breathed, stepping deftly behind her to the left, out of range of her blade. "That's almost right, but you will want to tilt your hip in just a little more, like so."

His gloved hand cupped her waist gently, adjusting her posture. She felt herself flush reflexively, his voice suddenly rather close to her ear. "Try it again," he encouraged, stepping back away again, and she breathed in, forcing herself to concentrate on her stance again and not on how Haurchefant's very large hand had felt repositioning her entire stance with ease.

She stepped forward once more and swung her sword, shield held firmly in front of her as he'd instructed, and she felt that same hand clap onto her shoulder.

"Impressive," he remarked, voice a close rumble. "Just so."

She was left trying to gather herself as he circled back in front of her, seemingly fully unaware of how easily he'd flustered her. Now that he was actually training her, there was an air of confident authority about him that paired a bit dangerously with the way he praised her successes. She had been trained by many others of course; it was becoming increasingly clear to her that this was an issue unique to it being Haurchefant.

Focus, she told herself, using her well-trained mental willpower to bring herself back into her body, returning to stance and swinging her blade yet again, then allowing him to teach her a full set of training drills.

By the time the morning bell echoed through the training room, she was sore and sweaty in her armor and incredibly ready to get out of it.

"You've done very well," Haurchefant said assuringly as she wiped her brow. "I should be able to spend longer hours training you soon, but until then — I would ask that you come back here in your free time and practice the drills I've taught you."

"I was already hoping to," she agreed.

"Splendid," he smiled widely. "Now, may I help you out of your armor? There are some tricks to it..."

She did appreciate the offer of help, but the thought of having him that close to her again made her hesitate. "I think I can figure it out," she assured him, bending down to unbuckle her sollerets. He seemed hesitant, but did not interfere. The motions were unfamiliar, but she managed to get out of the armor on her legs, arms and shoulders with relative ease. She began to remove her chainmail top, and just barely noticed Haurchefant reaching out his hand to stop her with a wordless sound of alarm as she pulled it over her head.

Oh.

Owww.

"Shite," she cursed, freezing mid-motion, the neck of her mail held awkwardly just above the crown of her head. "It's got my hair."

The fine links of chainmail had somehow grabbed hold of her hair as she slipped it off over her head, pulling at her scalp painfully, and her careful motions did not easily free it from its tangle.

"Pray allow me to assist," Haurchefant uttered in a bit of a panic, and she held the mail still as he reached in and delicately worked her hair free from its grasp with nimble fingers. She sighed in relief as she felt it fall free from its snare, but Haurchefant's sudden grip on her wrist made her freeze instead of continuing to remove the offending article.

"My sincerest apologies for not warning you," he said, remorse clear in his voice. "You were removing your armor so confidently, I didn't want to stop you, but... here, I will take hold of your mail, if you could pull your hood over your head to avoid any further tangles-"

"My thanks," she responded gratefully, doing as he suggested, and he slipped the mail off of her without further incident. She clutched a hand to her chest, letting out a sigh of relief.

Haurchefant peered down at her, brow furrowed in concern, and he brought up his hand again to gently touch the top of her hair, inspecting the portion that had tangled for any damage. She looked down at their feet, face suddenly hot.

This isn't anything, she told herself, he is just being helpful. Please, relax. But she found it very hard to relax with him so close to her face like this, touching her delicately to make sure she was alright.

"It seems you have made it out unscathed," he said, stepping away and surveying her, apologetic. "...Oh, dear, you seem rather overheated. Are you quite alright?"

She started, looking up at him suddenly. "Ah! Y-yes, I am fine," she stammered, resolving to continue removing the rest of her armor as calmly as possible. "I just... panicked, a bit." She laughed, a somewhat nervous giggle. Just doing so did help calm her slightly. "I feel rather silly, but..."

He nodded as if he understood, and again she felt relieved.

"'Tis no worry. I am sorry I subjected you to such a thing. Mayhap a hearty meal will help restore your good spirits?"

After breakfast the Warrior of Light did seem to be in much better spirits, much to Haurchefant's relief.

He felt bad that he hadn't warned her to put her hood up in time, although she had assured him that she felt no fault laid with him. He supposed her hair was rather precious to her. It was beautiful, and very well-maintained, he thought, recalling how easily it had slipped across the surface of his gloves. For a moment he had worried that his touch had crossed a line and had spooked her... but, hah! She was the Warrior of Light, a seasoned world-weary traveler, confident, kind, and just; she was not some blushing maiden.

If anyone was a blushing maiden here it was clearly him, he thought, recalling how his heart had hammered in his chest the entire time he'd been so close to her, despite normally being accustomed to such things. He worried that perhaps training her privately like this would be more excitement than his poor heart could take, what with how deeply he admired her and how striking he found her beauty. But he could not abandon a friend in need, especially not one as dear and true as her.

Sighing wistfully to himself, boots crunching in freshly fallen snow, he made his way to his offices to begin the day's work.

Chapter Text

The Warrior of Light's next several days were filled with constant training, long hours spent alone in Haurchefant's private training room repetitively practicing the drills and techniques he'd taught her, the endless exercise forcefully driving her worrying thoughts from her head. She worked at it hard nightly until bone-deep fatigue would sink in and a gloriously hot shower and the plush bed provided to her welcomed her with their comforting embrace.

Mornings were met with anticipation, Haurchefant evaluating her progress and rewarding her with well-earned praise and more advanced techniques to practice.

"It shan't be long until you are ready for us to move on to practice bouts," he assured her, after he had watched her execute a particularly complicated maneuver. "I can hardly wait."

"Neither can I, truthfully," she countered, smoothly sheathing her blade, her shield now almost a comforting weight on her arm. "It has been ages since I truly sparred with anyone, and I miss it dearly. 'Tis not exactly a safe option when one practices magicks."

"I would think not," he laughed. "I will endeavor not to disappoint."

She struggled to imagine him disappointing her, what with how lightly and effortlessly he traced artful arcs with shield and blade that left no room for an opening. The thought of being tested by sparring against one so skillful, falling and rising each time with more knowledge than the last, expanding her limits, fair made her mouth water with hunger for battle. He was much larger than her too, especially tall even for an Elezen, and there was a part of her that particularly reveled in testing herself against opponents whose build and reach outmatched hers.

The past days had been much less trying on her nerves, now that they were delving into the meat of combat techniques and had less occasion for close contact. She still had to avert her eyes from him sometimes as they performed their morning warmup exercises, and felt the occasional frisson of excitement when he came close and laid hands on her to correct her stance, or issued a quiet compliment in a lovely baritone, but it had not been as hard to deal with as the day her hair was caught in her mail.

"Although..." his voice broke her out of her thoughts, tone wondering with a slight hint of mischief. "I do admit the unarmed fighting stance you took on our first day's training has intrigued me."

She breathed in, looking up at him. "When I thought you wanted to test me in a fight?"

He nodded. "Yes. I am, of course, also trained in unarmed close combat, and although it would perhaps not be relevant to the task at hand..."

Her thoughts raced, considering. It would be exciting to spar hand-to-hand with Haurchefant. His movements were light enough in full gear, and she found herself wondering just how agile he might be in an unarmed fight, and what sorts of techniques Ishgardian knights learned for such scenarios. They did have the time. But thinking about having him that close, grappling, skin contacting skin...

But, well. She was a warrior, and her battle instincts would likely take precedence over such distracting, irrelevant stimuli. It would be silly to reject such a promising opportunity to test herself and learn what the commander was capable of.

"Consider me interested," she said with a grin, putting a hand to her hip confidently. "Though I do warn you, I am especially proficient unarmed."

His eyebrows raised at this, an expression of grinning delight washing across his face. "Music to my ears," he enthused, hand going straight to the buckle of one of his pauldrons. "Shall we?"

"We shall," she agreed with a smirk of her own, quickly setting to unequip herself as well.

They both rid themselves of their armor quickly. The Warrior of Light stretched her limbs back and forth, limbering up, and Haurchefant followed suit, keen eyes glittering with anticipation.

Free of the heavy armor she'd quickly become used to wearing, her body felt unusually light. Taking a deep breath as she finished her final stretch, she dropped down into a fighting stance, bobbing lightly on the balls of her feet. Haurchefant joined her, taking an unfamiliar stance that looked far more sturdy than she had expected. His eyes met hers, intense with an open, evaluating battle focus that heightened her own awareness.

"Ready?" she asked.

"As ever," came the reply, and she rushed forward and struck.

She came at him quickly, her powerful legs pushing off the mat with a force that had him scooting a few ilms backwards as he brought up his arms to block her blow.

Fury but she was fast, dancing backwards after his parry, ever so light on her feet, circling him, eyes sharp and analyzing him for an opening.

As he had hoped. Well, two could play at this game. He shifted from his defensive stance into something more light and open, finding a gap in her defenses and lunging for it. Despite his superior reach she tipped out of the way just in time, countering him with a forceful punch to his bicep that pushed him off balance before aiming a sweeping kick towards his legs. He barely managed to catch his balance and jump back before it could connect.

Both of them spun back into stance, her eyes meeting his with an eager, almost wild grin, and he felt an electric jolt of excitement run down his spine.

Her eyes narrowed and she sprung up at him, her smaller figure quickly sneaking its way into his personal space with an effortlessness that spoke of great practice, and striking him in the chest with a punch deliberately light enough not to harm him, but still firm enough to knock some wind out of him, causing him to gasp. She tried to follow it up with a second blow but he blocked with his palm, his large hand easily curling around her entire fist, trapping it in his grip. He smirked with delight and grabbed her torso in a grappling hold, flipping her to the mat below them and pinning her down.

For a brief moment she just stared up at him in shock, the sudden impact of her back against the mat leaving her temporarily breathless.

He breathed hard from exertion, holding her there, eyes unable to move from hers. His heart beat much faster than it should from such a quick tussle. He... well, grappling was what he was best at, but seeing her there trapped underneath him, flushed and breathless... Halone have mercy, such a sight...

She drew in a sharp breath and with a sudden powerful surge of strength, broke free of his grip and slipped out from under him in mere seconds.

He moved to jump to his feet but she was quicker, circling behind him before he'd fully found his footing and pinning him to the ground in a loose chokehold, strong thighs gripping firm around his waist. He struggled to kick out of this position, using his long powerful legs as leverage, but she gently tightened her elbow around his neck in threat, making him feel dizzy and lightheaded.

"I yield," he panted, and she let him free, rising to her feet. He breathed hard for a few moments before pushing himself up onto his elbows.

She looked down at him with a victorious smirk, then reached out a hand to help pull him up. He took it, her bare skin hot in his grip, and felt a thrill at how easily she pulled him to standing despite her shorter stature.

"Well that was a bit of an embarrassment on my part," he confessed, cheeks flushed for a whole myriad of reasons. It certainly hadn't been his best showing, but he also felt in awe of her, at how easily she'd bested him. And... that fleeting moment when he'd had her pinned...

"'Tis no fault of your own," she consoled him, eyes still gleaming with mirth. "Elezen are all simply so easy to pin," she said with an air of utter confidence, gaze traveling up his body.

He held his breath, momentarily overwhelmed. "Are we?" he managed to huff out.

She nodded, absentmindedly running her hand through her hair. "Those long, elegant limbs are so easy to tip off balance," she explained, still looking at him. He could feel her eyes on his legs, and his chest felt very hot though he was certain she meant nothing of it. "Being slight and fast gives me an edge against larger opponents, if only when both unarmed. Still, you almost had me there for a moment."

"I see," he answered, then paused, trying to gather himself. Heart yet hammering, face still hot, Haurchefant was unable to stop himself from humming curiously at this. "You think me elegant?"

The Warrior of Light froze, mouth dropping slightly open. "I— Well, that is to say—" she stammered, breaking eye contact, the corners of her mouth upturned nervously.

"As a son of House Fortemps, I do endeavor for nothing less," he remarked, bending low into his most sweeping formal bow.

She broke out into a fit of giggles, and he smiled up at her before returning to his full height.

"I do find you quite elegant, yes," she conceded, still laughing.

He beamed at her. Even if she may have just been playing along, it still felt wonderful for her to pay him such a compliment. The true compliment, after all, was that she was fond enough of him to follow along with his banter like this, even when slightly ridiculous.

Though the way her eyes had traveled over his body moments ago still made a little bit of him wonder if maybe there was more to it... but, no, he should not read so much into such things.

"Then I suppose we have both achieved a measure of victory this day," he said proudly, and she smiled at him with twinkling eyes that were clearly in on the joke.

It was so good to see her so full of mirth in his presence, despite the ordeals she had just been through and the struggles ahead of her. Every day she seemed to be in better spirits, her once dimmed light shining brighter and brighter in his presence. He felt awed. She was like a brilliant crystal, absorbing the ambient aether of the hopes of those around her and concentrating it into a blinding light.

"Truly, though, excellent work," he said more softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You bested me soundly, as I expected of the Warrior of Light. I am awed and humbled."

Her cheeks flushed at this. Had that been too much praise? He did have a tendency to lay it on rather thick, but he always sincerely meant every word.

"Show your appreciation by knocking me flat in an armed fight," she said abruptly, eyes focusing on his, confident and intense, but expression soft. "I learn best from my losses. I want you to trounce me."

Fury grant me strength, he begged silently, or this woman may be the end of me. He wanted nothing more than to give her the crushing defeat at his hands that she so brazenly asked for. He truly wanted nothing more - no, that was a lie, it was all suddenly very clear to him that he wanted her even more - but he wasn't about to jeopardize his connection to the most admirable woman he'd ever known.

Still. Though he would not make his more selfish desires obvious, if somehow this wasn't just an honest admission of her own desire to learn, he was not about to just throw away the opportunity and leave her wanting.

He smiled widely, removing his hand from her shoulder with a firm nod, then leaned in slightly closer. "That, I can promise you."

The Warrior of Light stumbled into the dining hall in a bit of a daze, lost in her own thoughts.

She thought she'd been doing a good job at keeping her attraction to Haurchefant at bay. She'd fallen into a comfortable routine, feeling more secure in their easy friendship, the way it had always been.

But then she'd decided to spar with him unarmed. She suppressed a groan as she waited in the meal line, squeezing her eyes shut. She should never have agreed to it, though she knew there was no imaginable world in which she would have turned down his offer.

She mindlessly took a plain bowl of porridge from a server and wandered over to sit to eat it, completely forgetting about taste or nutrition.

She could still feel some of the thrill she'd felt when he'd pinned her, the memory refusing to leave her body. He'd all but frozen, eyes wide and dark, shadowed as they were by the lights above them, his face mere ilms from hers. Of course he was just waiting for her to catch her breath, or otherwise reveling in the shock that he had indeed managed to pull off such a maneuver, but, Twelve. In that moment, no small part of her had wished he would just press his mouth down on hers and kiss her as he held her there.

She'd managed to snap herself out of it and break free and win their match, but in the high from her victory she'd let herself be led by her desire, teasing him with words that he seemed, she surmised, to rather playfully deflect.

But the way he'd reacted when she'd told him she wanted him to defeat her in an armed match, with a subtle step in towards her, his sharp blue eyes downcast and a smile ghosting his lips, voice rumbling low and close with a promise...

Had he read her tells and responded in kind, or was she just imagining things?

Considering the way he'd just seemed his normal lighthearted self as he strapped himself back into his armor and she properly put away hers, and gave her a friendly farewell as they each left to go to breakfast, she was fairly certain it was the latter.

But. But, gods.

She needed to get her head on straight. Nearly all she had right now was thanks to Haurchefant, and while she trusted the man with her very life and knew he wouldn't cast her out if she made any unwanted advances, the thought of doing anything to make him uncomfortable or to diminish his considerable respect for her was unthinkable.

But yet, if... if his words of promise had not simply been the plain battle taunt they'd seemed on the surface...

She was startled out of the swirling fog of her wonderings by the sudden clatter of a tray being set across to hers on the tabletop, and she looked up to see Tataru clambering up onto the bench to sit across from her, small shoulders barely visible above the table's edge.

"Good morning," Tataru said brightly, greeting her by name.

"Good morning Tataru," she returned politely, still in a bit of a daze.

"Are you... quite alright?" The Lalafellin woman asked, setting down her fork and peering up at her closely. "You seem rather lost; you haven't even touched your porridge."

The Warrior blinked down at her bowl, which was indeed untouched, and was also far from the thickly steaming bowl she'd sat down with. It was plain? Had she really gotten herself plain porridge? She frowned at it, then looked up to see concern writ plain on the other woman's face.

"Ah— ah, no, I am fine, thank you for your concern. I went for a spot of morning exercise and I think perhaps I knocked a few screws loose, is all." She lifted her spoon, grimacing gratefully. "Eating should help, I am sure."

Tataru smiled sympathetically and scooted two small carafes of maple syrup and cream halfway across the table towards her. "It might help better with some of these," she suggested. "They do always give me far more than I need. Elezen portion sizes," she scoffed with amusement.

The Warrior nodded and took her offerings gratefully, pouring some of both and mixing them in to her bowl before scooting them back to Tataru. After she'd gotten most of the way through her meal and was starting to feel a better semblance of calm and grounded, Tataru spoke in a quiet tone laced with implication.

"So? Early morning training with Lord Haurchefant?"

She sputtered, narrowly avoiding choking on her porridge, swallowing the bite down in a panic. "W-what? How did you—"

"The two of you have been arriving at breakfast together nearly every day for over a week now," Tataru explained calmly, taking a slow sip of her tea. The Warrior felt her cheeks grow hot. "I had been wondering what the two of you had been up to. But it is just training, hmm?" Tataru sighed, sounding possibly disappointed.

"Yes, I asked him to teach me swordsmanship," she admitted, still caught off guard. She supposed it didn't really matter if any of the Scions knew what she was up to; she had only withheld that information because of how fun it would have been to surprise them all by showing up to their next adventure dressed head to toe in armor, with brand new skills to show off. But there was something about Tataru's tone that implied something that set her off-balance. "Why, what had you assumed?"

"Well," the younger woman began, seeming slightly abashed. "The both of you had been arriving in such good spirits, and so well-colored, I could only venture a guess..."

The Warrior's face flushed hot, eyes wide. "Tataru!" she hissed, the smaller woman avoiding her gaze and folding inward bashfully to take a long sip of tea.

"What's all this, then?" came a young voice from behind her, and the Warrior turned to see Alphinaud and Yugiri both approaching the table, seating themselves on the bench next to each of them. "You two seem awful lively this morning."

"The Warrior of Light was just telling me about her morning lessons in swordsmanship with Lord Haurchefant," Tataru piped up, eyes focused on refilling her empty teacup.

"Oh?" Alphinaud asked, turning to the Warrior, visibly intrigued. "That is heartening news; none of us here are particularly skilled at defense," he noted with a tinge of unwarranted self-consciousness. "He is truly instructing you himself? How go your lessons?"

"He insisted on doing so. It is going well, but I'm still learning the basics," she admitted, still reeling over Tataru's assumptions. The woman was a dear friend, but keenly perceptive and perhaps a bit too fond of scandalous gossip. She only hoped none of the others around camp had come to such a conclusion. "If you could take care not to spread this knowledge outside the Scions for now? I am trying to keep my efforts private for the time being, lest unwanted observers witness all my beginner's mistakes."

"My lips are sealed," Alphinaud promised with a smile, speaking more quietly. She looked across the table to Yugiri, who nodded, seeming pleased by this news as well.

Her eyes then moved to Tataru, who simply looked up at her innocently and nodded, sipping her fresh cup of tea.

Honestly.

Still, if Tataru thought it possible, then perhaps... Well, no, she had no real grounds to assume such, did she?

She returned to her meal, glancing around the room as she ate, while Yugiri explained some Doman winter traditions to a fascinated Alphinaud.

A flash of ice blue hair caught her eye and her breath caught as she saw Haurchefant carrying his tray to the receptacle several yalms away. He set it down and turned away, task done, then started as his eyes met hers across the room. Upon seeing her, his formerly thoughtful expression melted into a warm smile, and he raised a bare hand to greet her.

She returned his smile and nodded back to him, and he bowed his head gracefully and left the room, off to tend to his duties no doubt.

She shoved the last large bite into her mouth, doing her best to shove down the racing feeling in her chest as well.

Chapter Text

It was not long until Haurchefant Greystone had to admit there was no more he could teach the Warrior of Light within the walled confines of his training room. She had picked up the movements and stances incredibly quickly, flowing from one to the other as smoothly as if she'd trained for years, thanks no doubt to her vast well of prior combat experience. All that remained was synthesizing these skills in actual one-on-one swordfights, somewhere outdoors where the sounds of clashing steel and the occasional blade sent clattering against a wall would not alarm or harm anyone.

Having now faced the Warrior in battle, his pulse raced at the thought of her eagerly coming at him once again, battle instincts flaring and face blazing with ambition. And when he sent her to the ground again this time just as she'd asked, would a look of defiant resolve or of gratification grace her beautiful features?

He steadied his breath, willing his blood to calm. Ever since that day she'd sparred with him, she had haunted his every thought, even going so far as to appear in his dreams, tempting him with even more cryptic, teasing words that aroused him but didn't reveal her own interest. He had hoped that perhaps if she was yearning for him as he was, she might make that obvious one of these mornings. He had even begun wearing a sleeveless shirt during their morning warm-ups, citing unseasonably warm weather, but if her eyes had lingered on him more than usual he hadn't noticed.

At a soft click from across the training room, he turned from where he was seated to face the Warrior of Light as she entered the room, smiling warmly and raising her hand to him in greeting.

He called her by name and did the same, rising from his seat to meet her in the center of the room.

"Lord Haurchefant," she said with a flawlessly mimicked curtsy, though of course she wore no skirts. It had been moons since he'd insisted there be no formality between them in private, long before her arrival seeking asylum, and the unexpected joking appellation made him smile widely with mirth. "I have been brushing up on my Ishgardian manners with some of the local ladies, you see."

"Very well done, although I struggle to imagine you will be spending your time in the Holy See wearing heavy noblewoman's gowns."

"I tried to tell them as much," she huffed, "but they insisted, 'a lady must know how to curtsy.' In addition, I have learned far more about the trade agreements between the High Houses than I would have ever wanted to. Serves me right for accidentally interrupting their tea," she laughed, wincing. "You must certainly have your hands full with all kinds of exhausting matters relating to House Fortemps, I don't know how you do it."

He hummed thoughtfully before replying. "Well, being a bastard son with few noble responsibilities does have its advantages."

She blinked at him, clearly surprised. Had she not heard talk of this? True, his knights were loyal and had never been known to speak ill of him, and he had earned a decent amount of respect in this region of Coerthas, but she had dealt with some of his house's political rivals, who he was sure were likely to have mentioned it. But she looked at him with concern, as if he had just said something worrying.

"...Oh, did you not know? Pray do not let it trouble you, I have long made peace with my station. And I assure you, it will not stop me from ensuring that your asylum is granted. But, yes, the fact remains that I am not trueborn. I am the product of Count Edmont de Fortemps' sole indiscretion, if you will. 'Tis in part why it was so easy for me to choose the path of a knight."

"I see," she replied, looking thoughtful. "Well, it certainly matters none to me," she said, gently placing a hand on his forearm and meeting his eyes with a caring smile, and he felt a tugging in his chest. "If anything, it is a relief to hear that you don't have to worry over all those awful trade agreements." Her eyes narrowed, and she pursed her lips in a pout. "If I never hear another word about grain production it will be too soon."

He laughed warmly at this, and she smiled. "As commander of this fort I do unfortunately still have to deal with grain procurement," he admitted, and she put her hands on her hips and made a face that caused him to laugh even more. "But it is heartening to hear you are learning more about Ishgard. It can be a political quagmire even at the best of times, and I am gladdened to see you are equipping yourself with knowledge. Though of course I will make sure that any gaps in that knowledge are filled upon your arrival."

"I am most grateful," she replied, looking up at him with a sincere, open expression that caused him to softly hold his breath for a moment. "You know," she began, eyes flitting downcast, "I really do owe so much to you, Haurchefant. I can't help hoping for some way I can repay the favor."

"Nonsense," he protested, tone soft yet firm. "You owe me nothing. What else do friends do if not look out for one another? Besides, I know you and your companions will undoubtedly do many great things to benefit my countrymen."

She shook her head, insistent, meeting his eyes with a look of fierce determination that shocked him. "Of course I intend to help the people of Ishgard in any way I can. But you said it yourself, what are friends who do not look out for one another? I only wish to look out for you, Haurchefant, like you continue to do for me." She paused for a breath as he simply stared at her, dumbfounded. "If there is ever aught that troubles you, or that I can do for you personally... pray tell, and I will endeavor to aid you as best I can."

He murmured her name, touched by her passionate plea. "...If that is your wish, then I cannot help but intend to grant it," he pledged, strong emotion swelling within. "But I must admit that your mere presence does much to sweep any minor troubles I may have had clear away." What true concerns could he have, with the Warrior of Light — no, this remarkable, resilient woman he was blessed to call his friend — at his side willing to help him face nigh impossible odds?

Her cheeks tinged pink, and they both glanced away from one another, embarrassed. "Know that I will call upon you if ever I am in need. I give you my word," he promised, and she nodded gratefully and met him with a pleased smile.

"Now," he began, placing his hands on his hips and meeting her with an eager glint in his eyes. "As for today, there is but one thing I require of you."

"Oh?"

"Your readiness to prepare for combat," he continued, and her posture straightened with clear enthusiasm. Excellent. "Naught remains I can teach you within these walls, so I have arranged to make it possible to meet with you outdoors during lunch rotations when only a scant few guards remain on duty," he explained, and he could feel the excited tension rising in the air between them. "Starting today. I trust you are ready?"

She nodded, expression eager, punching her fist into her palm. "Oh yes," she grinned. "I do think I am."

The Warrior of Light's steps felt light despite her heavy armor as she snuck her way around the edges of camp to the place Haurchefant had told him to meet her. She had taken an early lunch alone, something that was already a fairly common occurrence on days she had business outside the camp, and with the addition of a full helm Haurchefant had provided her for this purpose, hoped that none would recognize her quite yet. Indeed, she was spotted at some point by a patrolling knight, who just politely nodded as they passed one another, much to her relief.

It was finally time for combat practice. Finally. She felt ready, her muscles itching to synthesize the new skills that had been drilled into their memory through sheer repetition.

Their morning practice had been especially energizing today, although once again she had to work not to stare at his impressively powerful bare arms as he did push-ups beside her. It was in fact very modest of him to keep covered with a shirt at all, she reminded herself, thinking once again to the shirtless men she'd seen doing calisthenics in his office. Likely he only wore one at all to avoid making her uncomfortable, aware as he must be that he was spending time alone with a woman more-or-less in secret. Ishgardian propriety and all. She found the implied consideration rather gentlemanly of him, and she certainly did not mind that he'd now forgone sleeves, as she had done the same from the very beginning. And yet it surely did not make it any easier to keep her mind on the task at hand.

Nor did his insistence that her presence alone brought him relief from his troubles. Finding out about his status as an illegitimate son did worry her, but only because she could not help but wonder if such circumstances had brought him great hardship. It made her want to learn more about him, to know his past and how he had shaped himself into such a generous and optimistic soul. She hoped that he really would someday come to her with his personal troubles. From the soft sincerity he'd displayed, she believed that he would, and she found the feeling warmed her.

Still, his enthusiasm was as ever infectious, and he had psyched her up before they broke their training to go to breakfast, then offered words of challenge.

"I'll not make it easy for you," he'd assured her with an air of utter confidence, latching his sword to his belt in a smooth, practiced motion.

"Ensure that you don't," she'd returned, their eyes briefly meeting with uncharacteristic ferocity before she'd turned and walked out the door.

As she crunched through the new dusting of fresh snow, she could not help but dwell on the hungry intensity she thought she'd seen in his eyes in that brief moment. Her nerves bristled with anticipation.

She turned a corner around the disused storehouse he'd indicated, only to come face to face with the man himself, leaning against a stone wall. When he spotted her, he rose to his full height, and spoke her name in a calm tone that sent a jolt of levin down her spine.

"Haurchefant," she replied just as calmly, drawing her blade and taking shield in hand. He watched her carefully and did so too, and silently they began circling one another, their sollerets making thick boot prints in the snow.

Haurchefant made the first move this time, charging at her with incredible force, his long powerful legs allowing him to close the yalms of distance between them before she could even blink.

She barely managed to put up her shield and block his strike, the force of the impact sending her scooting back a couple of fulms. With great strain she pushed back against his blade with her shield, deflecting it.

"Good!" he cried, grinning, before swinging at her again. This time she parried with her own blade, but his reaction time was much quicker, and he came at her again and again, movements seamlessly flowing from strike to strike with an expert's finesse.

She had assumed he planned to ease her into real combat training just as he had done with the basics, but it seemed he had taken her taunt seriously. She struggled to keep up, only barely able to fend off his relentless attacks, with no time at all to read for an opening.

His vivid blue eyes shone brightly as he pressed the attack, delighted at her tenacity, shouting taunts and praise in equal measure with an eager voice filled with battle lust. "Yes, splendid! How long can you endure? Don't disappoint me!"

His wicked enthusiasm thrilled her, putting all of her senses on edge.

She felt herself being continuously pushed backwards against his onslaught, the shadow of a looming wall closing in behind her, and she gritted her teeth, trying and failing to gain traction in the fresh snow as she desperately defended herself. He gave her no quarter, and she was soon nearly overwhelmed. Her heart raced and her lungs gasped in the cold winter air.

If I could just get in one strike...

A familiar wave of awareness pulsed out from her like an aura of aether, and for a split second she saw it. A gap in his defenses, mere seconds from now. She simply knew that it would appear, in the mysterious way that the Echo sometimes fed her battle knowledge.

Every muscle in her body coiled with anticipation. First he would strike from the left — yes, she thought, lifting her shield to block it, his blade clanging loud and sending shockwaves up her arm. Then he would strike low — she bent her knees halfway into a crouch and parried it. Then, lastly, he would come from the right, but have an opening in his center, right above his heart — she stood taller, matching his motions, and with a leap she swung her blade into the gap where she knew his sword wouldn't be, his shield still too low to block—

—and just like that, it was over. Fast as coursing levin, Haurchefant had seen her strike and changed tack, bringing his sword down onto hers and sending it out of her hand with a clattering spin and a long scrape across the frozen ground below.

Struck silent, she panted, eyes fixed on Haurchefant's blade, now pointed directly at her face. Slowly realizing her defeat, she brought her hands up in the air and let her shield thunk to the ground at their feet.

She met his eyes, which were boring holes into her own with a force that silenced her, before she realized she was grinning wickedly, and she let out a delighted, exhausted laugh, falling to her gloved hands and knees in the snow. He lowered his blade and laughed as well, breathing hard.

"Did I meet your expectations?" he asked, and she lifted her head to look up at him. His handsome face was both flushed from their fight and red from the cold, and he wore an expression filled with overwhelmed pride that sent a sizzle of energy through her, even as she struggled to recover.

"Yes," she answered with ardor, and his eyes fluttered shut as he braced himself on the grip of his sword, falling into a crouch. "Did I?"

He let his head hang there for a moment, seemingly catching his own breath, before looking at her and reaching a hand out to help pull her up. "Yes," he replied, voice thick with intensity.

Haurchefant spent the next couple of bells coaching the Warrior of Light in two-person training drills: showing her how to stay anchored in snow, helping her practice parrying attacks, and letting her lead the offensive while he took defense, teaching her to find his openings.

It was satisfying, enjoyable work, and as always the Warrior took to it with eager determination.

Yet after they said their farewells and she left to disarm in his training room no doubt, he found himself swaying as he stood, weak-kneed.

Their fight. It had just been a fight, correct?

Yet it had felt like so much more than a mere sparring match. The tension that crackled between them, the sheer ferocity in her eyes, the way she simply gave it her all for him despite knowing she was fighting a losing battle, there was something there.

He was not immune to the thrill of battle — he had never been, not since he'd recklessly thrown himself into the fray as a mere boy wielding nothing more than a knife against grown men in his only friend's defense — but this was not like that. What he'd experienced fighting her was akin to sheer passion and delight, reflected and returned to him measure by measure.

And the look on her face, after he had defeated her just as promised... well, it was akin to an absolutely wanton, lustful grin one might display while reveling in the utmost throes of passion. He shuddered involuntarily simply remembering it. It had been all he could do upon seeing it, then hearing her delighted laughter and ardent response, to drop to his knees and bite his own tongue to silence a groan, so strongly did it stoke his desire.

Fury grant me strength, he pleaded, clenching his fists at his sides and forcing himself to stay upright. How am I supposed to forget this?

He wouldn't. He knew he wouldn't. But he had to keep it in, unwilling to let his heady attraction to her get the best of him. This was most certainly not the type of personal troubles she had so kindly pledged to aid him with.

And yet he knew full well he would have to face her again in a match like this on the morrow, and again the day after that. Like himself, the Warrior of Light was a single-minded woman, relentlessly throwing herself into the fray until she'd achieved mastery. He was her instructor in this endeavor, and she had said herself that she learnt best from failure. It would be doing her a grave disservice if he did not bring his all to bear for her in this matter. And truly, he wanted to face her again - he had felt true, joyous gratification at unleashing himself in battle upon someone who desired nothing less.

Yet, her face, flushed and satisfied, far more real and tempting than he could have ever imagined...

"Halone have mercy," he groaned, forcing himself to retire to his quarters where he could sort himself out properly.

Chapter Text

The Warrior of Light had never felt quite so alive. Mornings were now spent muscle training with renewed intensity, pushing her body past its limits in hopes of besting her dear friend and instructor. Haurchefant himself seemed to take her hastened vigor as the invitation it was, and responded in kind, driving them both hard until they were covered in sweat and gasping for air.

Breakfast and late mornings offered a reprieve, a hot shower, and quality time spent with the remaining Scions before an early lunch. The closer the lunch bell approached each day, the more she felt her anticipation mounting.

When they arrived each day in their secluded corner of the grounds, it would begin the same way. Her eyes met his, a blazing sapphire blue, and without more than a nod or word of greeting, they would draw their weapons and fight with all that they had.

Haurchefant was a joyous, indomitable force of a man, fighting with an unfettered passion that sent purely electric joy singing through her veins even as he crushed her completely. Each day he left her disarmed on the frozen grounds, thoroughly at his mercy. Each day their eyes met, a heady, nearly erotic fulfillment reflected in one another's eyes. Each day he extended his hand, pulling her back to her feet and then teaching her everything he knew about how she could learn to take his defenses apart.

Every time they clashed, she came closer and closer to beating him. She could feel her strength building day by day, her reflexes becoming more and more automatic, her instincts sharpening. He saw it too, recognizing every careful observation of her hard-earned progress with delighted praise that only filled her with a longing to earn more.

As the weeks passed, defeat by delectable defeat, the Warrior of Light found it nigh impossible to think about anything else but her dear Elezen friend. She felt a mounting tension between them that, despite the kind fondness and easy, joking comradery they both displayed between these matches that defrayed the intensity of their training somewhat, she found increasingly difficult to ignore.

Sometimes the way his eyes met hers, euphoric, half-lidded and panting after their duel, sent shivers of pleasure down her spine that she recalled alone in her chambers late at night, her tired body aching for his touch, wondering if he felt this way too.

But the way he greeted her each morning, ever warm and welcoming with a friendly smile, willing to listen to any stray thought that troubled her, always made her hesitate to cross the line and risk their friendship to find out.

Often now they took their morning and evening meals together too, the other Scions quickly becoming rather fond of their new friend and benefactor.

"Thank you for your help with the wounded today, Master Alphinaud," Haurchefant said with a look of sincere gratitude, sitting down across from the Warrior of Light at the communal table with his plate. It was dinner time in the mess hall, and the Scions and Lord Haurchefant had gathered together at their usual table to eat a simple yet delicious highland meal of roast karakul and mashed popotoes, accompanied by hot steaming mugs of cocoa. The night of the week the mess hall served cocoa was a favorite among the knights of Camp Dragonhead, and their excitable chatter echoed around them. "Some of our newer recruits have been a bit reckless as of late, distracted by concerns over their loved ones in the capital. It is truly a boon to have such a skilled healer such as yourself on hand during these troubled times."

Alphinaud, seated between Haurchefant and Yugiri, shook his head politely. He appeared faint, clearly low on aether. "'Twas the least I could do. I only wish that I was better up to the task and did not reach my limits so soon."

"Nonsense. I daresay you gave it your all, much and more than any one of our chirurgeons could. Pray eat, take your rest, and regain your strength for the morrow." He smiled, gently clapping a hand on Alphinaud's small shoulder, and the boy nodded, slightly embarrassed but clearly gladdened by his encouragement, and began to dig in to his meal.

The Warrior smiled watching this, and took a sip from her mug, finding her sore shoulders relaxing from its comforting warmth. Haurchefant was right to favor the beverage, she thought, finding that something about it put the heart at ease.

He saw her watching them and met her gaze with a warm smile, his blue eyes glinting in the lamplight. She acknowledged him with a slight incline of her head then looked down at her plate, busying herself with cutting her roast into bite-sized chunks.

They dined in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, taking their time to savor their food, before Tataru, seated next to the Warrior of Light, spoke in a conspiratorial voice just loud enough for their group to hear. "So, how goes your training?"

The Warrior blinked, mouth full, and looked down at Tataru, who was looking between her and Haurchefant and awaiting a response with a friendly smile laced with what she thought might be an edge of mischief.

The Warrior swallowed, preparing to respond, but Haurchefant spoke before she was able.

"It proceeds apace," he replied, wearing an expression of pride as he glanced at her. "She continues to exceed even my most hopeful of expectations."

She flushed a little at this, and took another sip of cocoa to clear her throat.

"My, that's wonderful news," Tataru enthused, beaming. "I had suspected as much, given how much taller she has been carrying herself as of late."

It was true, of course, but...

"I—" The Warrior began.

"'Tis true," Yugiri agreed, nodding. "I have noticed a lightness to your step these past days, my lady. Undoubtedly from your recent acclimation to heavy armor?"

The Warrior nodded, relieved. "You have the right of it, Yugiri. I must admit my usual attire feels nearly feather light now that I am used to fighting in mail. Though I do still have a ways to go until I am fit to wield these new arms in real battle, I fear."

She looked at Haurchefant, who was mid-sip with his brow softly furrowed, considering. "Perhaps 'tis not as far off as you think," he said simply, meeting her eyes with a hint of challenge she was sure only she and perhaps Yugiri perceived.

"Well, it will be most heartening to have you defending us on the front line of battle when the time comes," Alphinaud remarked gladly.

"I am full glad to hear so," she replied, meeting the young man's cautiously hopeful look with appreciation. Truly, not all wounds had healed in this short time, but seeing an expression of faith on Alphinaud's face brought her no inconsiderable measure of relief. "I shall do my utmost to protect you all."

Tataru Taru frowned to herself, holding a massive mug of cocoa in her two diminutive hands. The others had slowly finished their meals and left the table, and only she remained, endeavoring to finish every drop of the precious beverage, despite how recklessly it had been overfilled.

It was plain, very plain to her that something was going on between the Warrior of Light and Lord Haurchefant, though what exactly she couldn't quite get a firm grasp on. Throughout their meal — like every meal they had shared recently, come to think of it — she had caught the two of them stealing glances at one another, while the other looked away unawares. And when their eyes met, there was a warmth and a sense of mutual understanding that spoke volumes, at least to Tataru's keen eye. More than once she had spied a healthy flush on both of their cheeks, long after they had recovered from their exercises. Yet every time she had inquired upon their time together, she was told naught but facts of their training that failed to illuminate any greater part of the picture she was seeing.

She didn't want to pry, but... well, she wanted to know.

"Ah, Tataru. Are you retiring soon? I can continue with our origami lessons tonight, if you wish," Yugiri offered, leaning an elegant scaled hand on the tabletop and bending down to look at her. Yugiri's brow creased as she took in Tataru's expression. "...Is aught amiss?"

"Oh!" the Lalafell exclaimed, momentarily surprised at Yugiri's sudden presence. "No, 'tis nothing of consequence, really," she excused, then let out a sigh and leaned in towards the other woman, this time speaking in hushed tones. "Oh, alright. Don't you think Lord Haurchefant and our Warrior of Light seem to have become awfully fond of each other?"

Yugiri blinked, clearly not expecting this. "Well, yes..." she began hesitantly. "But I suppose they would be, given their similar dispositions and their dedication to their training." She paused, taking in the unimpressed look on Tataru's face. "...Is that not what you meant to ask?"

Tataru shook her head quickly. "No, no, I mean to say... isn't there something in the air about them? A deeper connection they aren't telling us about? It is simply driving me mad with curiosity!" she confessed, exasperated not at Yugiri but with herself.

The black-haired woman looked thoughtful, then nodded solemnly. Tataru perked up. "I dare not share this with the others because 'tis not rightfully mine information to divulge, but..."

"Aaaaah, please, tell me! I will not share it. You have my word!"

Yugiri sat down, cleared her throat, then leaned in closely. "...Well," she began, "In my patrols I have once chanced upon them during their training."

"Oh...!"

"Two more fiercely matched foes in battle I have never seen," the Auri woman said seriously, her hazel eyes blazing with quiet admiration. "They came at one another with all they had, steel flashing bright, crying out in a clamor of joy and fury, neither ceding but an ilm to one another. Truth be told, I... I fled the scene immediately, so ashamed I was at witnessing a scene so intimate without invitation." She put a hand to her face, her pale cheeks reddening at the thought.

Tataru stared, then sunk back down into the chair, dropping her mug down the small distance onto the table in a hushed clatter.

"I... see."

Yugiri nodded, eyes closed, apparently still lost in the memory, seeming wistful. "So, yes... it seems they have struck up quite the close rivalry."

These warriors, Tataru thought with resigned exasperation. I suppose that teaches me not to come to Yugiri for talk of romance.

"Thank you, Yugiri," she answered, offering her best look of gratitude, before standing and taking her dirty dishes in hand. "I suppose I am done here. I would much enjoy continuing our lessons tonight, that sounds lovely."

The Auri woman came out of her reverie and met Tataru with a gracious nod. "It would be my pleasure."

Haurchefant Greystone was all but certain that he had begun a steady descent into madness.

As he waited alone in the snow, wind whipping around his armor, heart pounding with the anticipation of the Warrior of Light's arrival, he found himself wondering yet again how much more of this he could endure. Every day for the past two weeks he had fought her at his full strength, every well-honed muscle in his body fully alive and buzzing, every onze of power and technique he had earned in his eleven years of service to Ishgard pouring out of him in an overwhelming rush. And she returned it all back to him with the full amount of willpower and Hydaelyn-blessed aptitude she possessed, brilliant, beautiful eyes flaring with a captivating light of defiance and hope that he found himself inexorably drawn to like a beacon.

She was learning incredibly well, dedicating all of herself to the task of mastering the techniques and strategy he taught her. She aimed for nothing less than to strip his defenses and lay him bare, student overcoming instructor — he knew this, he sensed this, he wanted this. He could not have ever conceived of a more viscerally fulfilling challenge.

And yet. And yet, it was not just lust for battle that consumed him.

The way her eyes met his, with fondness and high esteem, as they greeted each other in the mornings. The way they easily fell into sync with each other as they trained, her seemingly boundless ambition spurring him on to chase her to new heights. The way her whole demeanor brightened when she caught his eye across a room, even when she had been brooding and serious, hearing word from Tataru that there still had yet to be any news of her missing comrades. The way they had learned in these few weeks of nigh-constant closeness to communicate much to one another with only a mere glance.

The way she'd looked pinned beneath him, flushed and breathless. The way she reveled in her hard-resisted defeats, gazing up at him with the utmost shameless satisfaction, breath gasping in the sharp Coerthan air. How at these times, he swore he could feel the very energy between them, charged with invisible tension, right on the verge of coalescing into something more.

He felt as though he might tip over the edge at any moment and fall into an abyss there was no escaping from.

Did she know? Could she feel it too?

He could not help but dare to hope. This heat inside him sustained him, kept him warm in the frozen air of his Calamity-ravaged homeland. But it also burned, flames of unfulfilled desire lapping at his skin and threatening to immolate him completely.

He could not risk telling her how she consumed his every thought, not now when she was so close to mastering the skills he had taught her. He could not put that burden on her, not when she met him with naught less than the truest friendship, his quick instinctive trust of her upon their first meeting proving to have been one of the best judgments he'd ever made.

He was a knight, and knights were taught to endure, to be steadfast, to put their duty above all else. And yet, every time she sidestepped his blade with a triumphant smirk; every time she stared up at him, disarmed and spent from their duels, wantonly grinning and eyes smoldering as though nearly daring to invite even more from him somehow; every time she simply laid a hand upon him gently in a gesture of care, he could feel his will to endure this any longer begin to crumble.

He was a knight, yes, but he was also merely a man. There was only so much more he could take, of seeing the sweat drip down her exquisitely toned arms, of tasting the heat and salt of their exertion on the training room's stuffy air, of seeing himself recognized, cared for, and reflected in the eyes of this honest-to-gods hero of a woman, before he knew he would find himself begging at her feet, entreating her to please take from him all that he had and more. His own hands soothed the burns, but could not extinguish the flames.

At the selfsame moment the harsh winds died down around him, he saw her stepping in to the clearing. He swallowed thickly, willing his heart to remember its place, and drew his blade.

The Warrior of Light found that no matter how many times she met Haurchefant in battle, no matter how well her eyes and her reflexes had been trained in on targeting this one man's weaknesses and withstanding his strengths, each clash felt delightfully brand new.

After weeks of battle, however, she was finally starting to crest the edge. He struck at her relentlessly, yet she skillfully parried with both sword and shield, unwilling to give in to his assault. She read his movements — his weight ever-so-slightly shifted back to his left foot, and she knew he would come in from the right and sidestepped his next attack, bringing her sword down towards the pauldron at his shoulder.

One strike. One strike to disarm, or to hit the body, and she would finally be able to claim victory. She saw the panic in his eyes as she dodged his attack and her blade swung through the air towards him, nearly meeting its mark—

"So close," he cried, twisting out of her reach just in time. "Come on now, push yourself further!"

The expression of heated glee he wore urged her forward. Without a moment's hesitation, she gritted her teeth and leapt towards him, her sword crashing against his shield with incredible force, his boots sinking backwards into the snow beneath him. She did not falter to revel in her gained ground and unleashed a flurry of sword strikes, building up speed with each swing.

"Yes, good! Use your momentum!" he yelled, inching slowly backwards as her attacks drove on. He parried each one, blocking with sword and shield in turn, but with her trained eye she could see him slipping, less and less able to keep up. Her arms ached, muscles screaming for relief, yet here was her chance, victory in sight as he chased her blade, eyes wide—

"Is this all you have for me, Haurchefant Greystone?" she taunted, pushing on, single-mindedly driving towards his defeat—

Without warning, he thrust forward and smashed his shield against hers, pressing her backwards with a surge of devastating might and a deafening, resounding clamor. Shockwaves rippled up her exhausted arm, and she stumbled back, almost failing to parry his next attack.

His eyes met hers, burning with a dark intensity, as if her taunt had stirred something within him. He recognized her sudden show of weakness and smirked. Levin crackled through her, making her heart pound, and even mustering all her strength she barely managed to withstand his following blow. The next five drove her back.

She did not sense the wall behind her until her body stumbled backwards and hit it, gasping with the sudden impact. Haurchefant's blade hit the stone behind her, wedged between the bricks, mere ilms from her neck.

"No," he panted in answer, leaning on his blade, arms all but trembling, energy spent. She dropped her sword and shield to her sides, where they softly fell into the snowbank that had built up against the wall.

Tilting her chin up to meet his gaze, her body froze. His eyes, half-lidded, searched hers with bewildered restraint. She felt a flush seep up her neck underneath her armor. He was close, maybe a hand span away, and their frozen breath puffed clouds around them, mingling.

As much as it had plagued her fantasies and still very much pulled the bowstring of her body tight, always drawing the tension between them so thick she could nearly taste it, she had started to become accustomed to meeting his satisfied, wanton grin after their battles.

But this, this look on Haurchefant's features, as if... as if after crushing the victory out of her grasp so thoroughly, there was still yet more he desired...

Was his heart racing like hers was? Was his mind suddenly clouded like hers was, intoxicated by his presence?

Her eyes searched his in turn and he started, lips pressing together, brows furrowing—

A loud crunch of boot on snow sent both of their heads swiveling in its direction. From her vantage, the Warrior of Light could see nothing, but by the way Haurchefant leapt backwards away from her, turning to face the noise, weapon still in hand, she knew someone was there.

"Lord Haurchefant!" came the surprised call from beyond her range of vision, the vaguely familiar voice of one of his male knights. "Is aught amiss? I was passing through the area and heard shouting—"

"'Tis no cause for alarm," she heard her friend reply placatingly, his sword sliding back into its scabbard with a sharp metallic sound.

She did not stay to hear the rest, her legs carrying her swiftly between a gap in the storehouses and out of sight. Her pulse raced, her mind reeling from what she had just experienced, her exhausted limbs scrambling on instinct for an escape, for somewhere to be alone with her rushing thoughts.

Somehow she managed to make it to her quarters undetected, by the mere lucky grace of most of the camp's residents being mid-meal. Still clad in armor, weapons and helm carelessly missing, left at their training grounds without a moment's thought, she bolted the door behind her and slumped against it, breathing heavily.

Had... had Haurchefant nearly kissed her? If they had not been interrupted, would he have? Would she have?

Her whole body trembled, recalling the intensity of his eyes on her, expression complex and nigh-unreadable. His lips, flushed pink from their duel, pressing together as if bracing himself against something, her body slack with fatigue but surging with sensitivity, his sword still ilms from her bare throat...

Gods be good, she thought, biting her lip. Her body felt afire, smoldering excitement making her knees feel weak. It was all she could do to remove her gloves and collapse to the floor before unbuttoning her trousers and reaching a hand into her smalls, desperately seeking relief, his eyes still on hers in her mind as she reached her peak.

--

It was far from the first time she'd given in to lustful thoughts of him in the privacy of her own quarters, but as she came back to herself and began to remove her armor piece-by-piece and make herself more comfortable, she could not help but feel a stab of guilt twisting in her gut. The scent of their fight still lingered on her skin, his image fresh, his voice recalled clear and resonant. She had never felt quite so harried, so desperate for him that her only recourse was to flee the scene and pleasure herself to avoid making an unsightly scene in front of one of his knights.

And although she had surely felt a tension between them, seen some sort of complex interplay of thoughts and feelings in Haurchefant's passionate azure eyes, what exactly she had sensed was ultimately unclear to her.

He had been a kind, gentle, relentlessly good friend to her. If he didn't want to think of her in this way, if he simply thought of her as a comrade, would he be discomfited to know that she had sunken into depravity longing for him in such a way? Would he be disgusted with her, disappointed in her?

She hated to think of a world in which she did not have his fervent approval and support. He had heretofore accepted all of her she had displayed before him without judgment or question. She gripped the knees of her trousers tightly, curled into a ball atop her bed. She needed him to accept these desires of hers too, she realized. But would he?

Truth be told, she had no clue. She groaned in frustration, sprawling out on top of the bedspread. It had been so incredibly long since she'd taken a lover of any kind, if that was even what she would have called them. As an ordinary adventurer, she had indulged in a tryst with a handsome stranger here, had a rival turned occasional bedmate there, and experienced the infrequent brief stirring of feelings for a member of her party inevitably swept under the rug by a coming conflict. Ever since joining the Scions, she had forgone such distractions, so caught up was she in working to preserve the Eorzean people from further destruction.

Yet she'd never felt this way for anyone before, much less a close friend. She had no idea what this was, much less how to go about it. Or even if she should do aught about it at all. Soon, in a mere handful of weeks or even days if tides turned, she would make her way into Ishgard, and undoubtedly be drawn into their local conflicts as she searched with the remaining Scions for their missing comrades. It was ever the way of things for her now, as the Warrior of Light.

She sighed, squeezing her eyes shut, still at a loss as for what to do. Haurchefant would surely be wondering what had become of her, after she so abruptly departed leaving her equipment behind and the rest of their training abandoned. But she did not feel ready to talk to him, her mind still swirling. Not yet.

Eventually, she forced herself to rise, and left to freshen up in the showers.

Tataru Taru was on her way to grab her knitting needles from her chambers when she stumbled across the Warrior of Light in the hallway near their rooms, carrying a tray of food and seeming most preoccupied with clouded thoughts.

She called out to the Warrior by name, and the woman abruptly came to a stop, nearly spilling her bowl of soup as she did.

"Oh, it's just you, Tataru," she observed, letting out a breath of relief. "Forgive me, you gave me quite a fright."

"It's no trouble," Tataru assured her, then frowned with concern as she looked the Warrior over. "Are you quite alright? You seem troubled."

"Ah," the taller woman started, pausing briefly. "No, I am well. Just feeling a bit out of sorts, so I thought I would take a quiet early meal in my room." She shrugged, grimacing in a way that seemed an attempt to appease her worry. It did not.

"...Did something happen between you and Lord Haurchefant?" the Lalafell asked, and the Warrior's eyes widened.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" she replied slowly, staring down at her tray. Ah. Yes, she had surmised as much.

Tataru flashed the Warrior of Light a sympathetic smile. "We crossed paths a bell or two ago and he seemed rather out of sorts as well," she explained. She hadn't spoken to the man, which was the oddest thing about the encounter. Instead he had completely failed to notice her as they walked past one another in the barracks' entrance hall, not even gracing her with his usual friendly hello.

The Warrior looked down at Tataru, meeting her gaze. "Really?" Tataru nodded. "I see," she frowned, evidently finding this even more of a cause for concern.

"Would you like to talk about it in private?" Tataru asked, hopeful. "You can take your meal in my chambers if you like," she suggested, gesturing towards her bedroom door across the way.

She took a breath in, hesitating, and for a moment Tataru was certain her friend would politely refuse her offer. But after a long moment, she nodded, meeting her eyes gratefully. "Actually, yes, I rather think I would," she answered, and the two of them made their way to her room.

Tataru's quarters were immaculately clean and comfortable, much as they had been at the Rising Stones and Waking Sands, when they had met there on occasion to chat over tea and share tales in private. The furnishings here were much the same as in the Warrior's own room, only with the addition of some step stools to facilitate the Lalafell's easier access of amenities. There was not room for entertaining guests, but Tataru gestured for her to sit at the desk, and as for herself, clambered up onto the nearby end of her bed, small feet dangling off the edge.

The Warrior of Light felt nervous at the prospect of telling another about her predicament, but Tataru was a close friend and easily the best option she had available.

She picked up her mug of evening tea and took a sip, suddenly not very hungry but seeking the warmth of the beverage to calm herself.

Tataru watched her, observing that she made no move to touch her food yet, then spoke. "What troubles you?"

The Warrior drew in a breath, lowering her mug to her lap. "I... I'm not rightfully sure where to begin, Tataru," she admitted.

"Did Lord Haurchefant do aught that unsettled you?" Tataru asked, round face drawn tight with serious concern.

The Warrior blinked, then shook her head vehemently. "No, not at all!" she insisted, and Tataru visibly relaxed.

"I truly didn't think so," the Lalafell admitted with a tone of apology, "but I did have to make sure."

"No. No, he is and remains a wonderful friend," the Warrior continued. "It is just..."

"It is just...?" Tataru echoed, gently urging her on.

The Warrior squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, feeling her cheeks redden despite herself. She was a grown woman of the world, not some innocent young girl, and yet confiding something so simple to even a friend made her this embarrassed, and that fact itself was... well, it was embarrassing. "It is just that he is... rather handsome," she trailed off, looking down at her cup.

"Oh...!" Tataru softly gasped.

"And further, he has been unfathomably kind to me, and has offered up his all in training me, and continues to do so much for the Scions, and I..." she hesitated, setting her cup down on the tabletop and gripping the tops of her thighs. "I keep finding myself so preoccupied, thinking about... about him, as perhaps not simply a friend." She felt herself flush further, the intensity of her emotions rising with every word that passed her lips. "But I have my duty as the Warrior of Light, Tataru, and I owe him so much, and—"

"Don't be ridiculous," Tataru chided firmly, the sweet tone of her voice causing the Warrior to fall silent and meet her eyes. "Not one of those is remotely an excuse not to fall for him," she added, looking at her pityingly.

She started, gaping at Tataru. "Well... well I suppose not," she frowned, feeling as though she might combust. Fall for him? She almost let out a laugh, giddy with panic as she felt. "But try as I may I cannot tell whether he feels the same way," she lamented.

Tataru spoke her name with such a scolding tone and deadpan stare it sent a jolt of fright down her spine. "The man cannot keep his eyes off of you. The star itself turns around you as far as he is concerned."

The Warrior of Light felt a surge of optimism that threatened to overwhelm her. And yet—

She opened her mouth to protest, but Tataru silenced her even before she could speak. "Yes, really. I've seen him gawking at you like a lovesick puppy when you're not looking. And I've seen you do the same, in fact. Neither of you are exactly being subtle." Her voice was sweetly teasing, eyes glimmering with mischief.

"You are... you are sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure," the Lalafell insisted, her patience clearly tested. "And before you start talking about your duty to the Scions or to Hydaelyn again, you are our guiding light. It will only make things better for us all if you allow yourself a measure of happiness, especially in these dark times. After everything you have done, you most assuredly deserve it."

The two of them chatted for a while longer as the Warrior of Light finished her meal, still embarrassed but feeling all the lighter for having consulted Tataru on this. Tataru's words had touched her, remaining in her heart, bolstering her.

If... if she was right, and the look she had seen in Haurchefant's eyes was not simply friendship and admiration, but something more...

As she lay in her bed that night, thinking of how she'd greet him on the morrow, she could not help but to hope with all her heart.

Chapter Text

Haurchefant Greystone sat nervously in his training room, busying himself with polishing a scuff off the surface of the Warrior of Light's shield. He breathed deeply to calm himself, but his thoughts yet rushed with worry.

His duel with the Warrior of Light yesterday afternoon still replayed sharply in his mind. She had come at him relentlessly, pushing past the limits of her own stamina, and his heart had raced with pride as he felt himself nearly overwhelmed. Would she finally best him? Would all of their training at last bear such long hungered for fruit?

But then, on the very precipice of her victory, eyes flashing with frenzied anticipation—

"Is this all you have for me, Haurchefant Greystone?"

Her words had burned straight through him like a sparking fuse, igniting an explosion of energy inside him he hadn't known he had. He had not held back, he had never held back in their duels, and yet those words. Those simple words, undoubtedly merely a taunt uttered in the heat of battle, had awoken in him the unforeseen power to drive her back, sending her against the stone wall of a storehouse and forcing her to disarm herself beneath him, fully at his mercy.

She'd looked up at him then, so close he could see his own dazed and hungry reflection in her eyes, see every crease in her softly parted lips as her heavy breath puffed icy clouds around him, drawing him in. And then when she'd met his gaze, not with a joking deflection or embarrassment, but with something complex, as if she was searching for something in his eyes, something he hoped desperately she would find—

They'd been interrupted, and she'd fled. He'd put the alarmed knight who had chanced upon them at ease and sent him on his way, and waited for the Warrior of Light to return for the rest of their training, but over half a bell had passed and she hadn't shown.

He would have gone looking for her if it wasn't for the desire and shame burning traitorously in his gut. Had he truly come so close to giving in? Another moment together alone, and would he have imposed herself upon her, unable to resist capturing her lips in his? Oh Halone, he was weak.

He'd returned to his duties but spent the rest of the day in a daze, trying to determine how grave of an error he had made. Did she not return because she was upset with him? Had his intensity frightened her? The thought of anything frightening the Warrior of Light into immediately fleeing on her heels seemed laughable on its face, but he knew firsthand how much seeing the unexpected hidden intentions of a trusted comrade could strike fear into one's heart.

She had not shown herself by dinner either. Worried, he'd approached the Scions' table where he often shared their meals, only to be told by Tataru that the Warrior of Light was not feeling well and had retired for the night rather early.

"Not feeling well? Is she ill? I shall call one of our chirurgeons—" he'd begun, only to be cut silent by a firm shake of the Lalafellin woman's head.

"There is no need for such concern. She will be fine, she just needed a bit of extra rest," Tataru had reassured him, eyes sincere and appreciative. "Pray put your mind at ease. I am certain you will see her in the morning, hale and hearty." She'd given him what seemed to be a knowing smile, although what exactly the small woman knew, he could only but guess.

He'd nodded, relieved she was not ill but otherwise still anxious. The other Scions did not seem overly concerned, Alphinaud remarking that he'd known her to take some space for herself from time to time, and not to worry.

Yet he could not help but worry. He'd tossed and turned in bed for hours before finally finding sleep, unable to get the image of her underneath him, flushed and searching, out of his mind's eye. Fury strike him down, but he wanted her, wanted to be near her, to touch her, to do anything, anything that could please her, if she would only allow him to try. He had never wanted anyone this badly, never had anyone embrace the full range of his intensity in battle with a hunger that felt to him, if not to her, all but blatantly erotic. Yet he could not bear the thought of losing her friendship over such selfish, carnal desires. When she looked at him fondly, eyes full of trust, he felt a sense of belonging he had not ever felt from any other, be they dearest friend or treasured lover. He felt seen by her, in his entirety. This only made him want her all the more, he was certain. It made him want to bare his whole self before her. He felt as if he was going mad, torn between two opposing needs that he was terrified could not be met at once - if at all, were he to voice them.

He knew he could not hold on much longer, however. He'd come so close to breaking yesterday, to just simply taking her in his arms without a word of request or warning. That was the last thing he wanted to do - to indulge himself unwanted, to bring her any measure of pain or shame. It went against all that he stood for, as both a knight and as a mere man. He could not live with himself if he lost control and forced a kiss on her that she did not want. Yet he had already tightened his reins to their very limit, and knew it was only a matter of time before he would simply break.

He had to tell her what he was feeling, and he had to do it soon. There was no other release from this suffering he could see, no way to simply tamp it down. He would give her an easy way to let him down, to spare them both as many hurt feelings as possible, but he would have to do it. Their training came first, but if another situation like this happened, with her so close and disarmed... he would have no choice but to tell her right then, regardless of what it meant for their lessons.

That was, of course, all assuming he hadn't already screwed everything up and caused the Warrior of Light to confine herself to her chambers until she left for Ishgard.

The faint, distant sound of armored footsteps brought Haurchefant up from his spiraling thoughts with a surge of relief. He looked up sharply towards the door, and after a moment, the knob turned and the Warrior of Light walked through, clad in her armor and looking no worse for the wear.

He stood, setting her shield down, and made to greet her.

"I'm sorry—" they both stammered out at the same time, then stopped abruptly, locking wide eyes.

"No, please, I—" "The fault is not—"

They stopped again, and half-smiled half-grimaced at each other, clearly both realizing what a ridiculous exchange this was. The Warrior nodded deferently, and Haurchefant spoke up once more.

"The fault is not yours," he repeated firmly, clenching and relaxing his fist at his side, breaking eye contact out of shame. "I am truly sorry for my misconduct. I... was overcome with fierceness for our battle, and I apologize sincerely if I have made you uncomfortable."

She gaped a moment, looking taken aback. "Haurchefant, no," she insisted, raising a calming hand. "You did nothing of the sort."

He frowned, looking her in the eye. Her expression was firm and earnest. "...Are you certain?" he asked tentatively, and she nodded.

"You have faced me in battle countless times, Haurchefant. You know I desire nothing less than your full ferocity."

He met her serious gaze and stiffened, feeling relieved but also more than slightly tortured. If only she knew what effects such words from her lips have on me, he thought, willing his heart to slow itself.

He nodded slowly, eyeing her carefully. "If... if I did not offend, then what happened? Are you alright? I heard you were not feeling well."

She inclined her head in acknowledgment, brows furrowed. "Yes... that is the right of it. I think perhaps I gave too much of myself in our match, for as soon as I was out of sight I started to feel in dire need of rest. Pray forgive me for so carelessly abandoning you and the gear you entrusted me with without a further word," she entreated him earnestly, seeming genuinely remorseful.

The sorrowful look in her eyes tugged at his chest, and he shook his head firmly, giving her an appeasing smile. "'Tis no trouble at all," he reassured her, looking her over. She seemed well, skin a healthy tint and free from the signs of fatigue he'd learned to read in her face. "Are you quite alright now? You look rather well to my eye, but..."

She nodded. "I am," she answered, then met his eyes with a fond expression that had him holding his breath. "Thank you for worrying after me, Haurchefant."

He felt himself flush a bit and bowed his head in a nod, smiling gratefully, his heart beating quickly despite his best attempts at maintaining his calm. "I could do naught else," he replied simply, then met her eyes. "Full glad am I to see you in fine form today. Have you come prepared for training?"

She nodded, then looked down at her gloved hands and started. "Ah... yes, but first I should probably remove my armor. I wore it up here so I wouldn't have to carry it piece by piece, cumbersome as it is," she explained.

He agreed, and brought her sword and shield over to the area where she stored her armor, newly sharpened and polished.

"Did you... did you repair my weapons?" she asked upon seeing him crouch to set them down, halfway through unbuckling a gauntlet.

"Oh, not more than a little simple maintenance," he brushed off. "You did leave them in my care, and my hands were eager to busy themselves with aught other than filing more paperwork, you see."

She paused for the briefest of moments, then set the gauntlet gently to the ground and continued with her work, unfastening pauldrons and shedding boots. "I see. I also enjoy such work with my hands," she commented idly, pulling her hood over her head and then slipping her mail and overshirt off to reveal her training clothes. She ran a hand through her mussed hair, brushing it back into place. "'Tis excellent stress relief."

He blinked, slightly bewildered. She... she was speaking about weapon maintenance, yes? She most certainly was not speaking about such things as the overwhelmingly lurid imagery which his mind immediately went to, no. He inhaled quietly, replaying her words in his head again. A perfectly normal thing to say, on its face. Weapon repair was a calming, meditative task.

"It is indeed," he agreed, suddenly wishing for another sip from his waterskin.

She smiled at him, then bent down to inspect her shield. "Thank you, in any case," she said, then ran her fingertips over the smoothed surface. "This is beautiful work," she added, tone admiring. "I can hardly tell you've spent weeks battering at it with all your strength."

Haurchefant felt a surge of pride at this, and stood a bit taller. "I do know a thing or two about equipment maintenance," he divulged, as if it weren't obvious. He watched her as she simply nodded, looking fondly at her shield and then at him, rising to her feet.

Was it just his imagination, or was there a different air about her today? She seemed... gentler, kinder perhaps. No no no, that wasn't to say that she wasn't always a kind and gentle soul, always leaping headfirst into danger to help those in need, always treating him with the care and respect of a truly good friend, but... it was almost as if rather than being put off by his behavior as he'd imagined, something had happened to perhaps endear him to her a little bit more. Though he couldn't imagine what, so mayhap he was just reading too much into it?

"Well... shall we begin?" she asked, rolling her shoulders. The strong muscles and tendons in her neck strained beautifully in motion, and he had to tear his eyes away from admiring to nod and lead them over to the exercise mat.

Their morning warm-ups and muscle training proceeded as usual, with the Warrior and Haurchefant both goading each other into pushing further, working harder. It brought sincere relief to Haurchefant's heart to see that she was, indeed, still in top condition. Her usual mischievous smile met his own as they trained, and it eased his mind very much to see that she truly was quite untroubled by his behavior.

When they were done, both collapsed exhausted onto the floor and toweled off sweat, bodies aching but grinning with endorphins.

"I cannot believe I never tried starting my days like this before," the Warrior remarked, dabbing at her neck. "'Tis so invigorating. I wake up every morning now so eager. Have you always done this?"

Haurchefant sighed, delighted at hearing her satisfaction. "Isn't it just?" She made a sound of agreement, and he flung his towel around his neck, leaning back against his palms. "No, I did not always train this way. Though I have long been fond of vigorous exercise as an outlet for... unwanted emotions, 'twas not until I became a knight that my schedule became this regimented. At first early mornings simply happened to be the only time I had for such solitary pursuits, but I quickly found morning exercise to improve my whole day," he explained, tilting his neck to look at her. She was nodding thoughtfully, towel tossed across a shoulder.

"...Unwanted emotions?" she asked softly.

"Ah, well. As often is the way of things in Ishgard, the harsher truths of life were not always the easiest for me to bear, especially before I found my place among the knighthood," he admitted. "As a boy I held a lot of anger and resentment towards forces I could not easily change. Throwing myself heart and soul into my training helped to ease those burdens and allow me to face others more as the man I wanted to be, rather than the man inertia and circumstance seemed to dictate I become."

The Warrior of Light listened to him with thoughtful concern, then inclined her head. "I see," she said, bringing her hands together in her lap. "I do not know what hardships you have faced, but if this is true then I cannot help but admire you more," she continued, and his breath caught. "I have never met a man more determined to see good in the world and in others. To hear that this did not come easily is... Well." She trailed off, flushing slightly. "You are a remarkable man, Haurchefant."

He felt his cheeks redden, chest expanding with her words, a feeling of soft yearning spreading through to his limbs. She... admired him? Truly, she had always shown him the utmost respect, and freely bestowed praise upon him when she saw fit, but...

He was a garrison commander, assigned to a border outpost that saw comparatively little conflict, and she was... well, he knew her well enough by now that he certainly saw her as more than such, but she was a hero. And yet she met him with sincerity in her eyes and told him he was remarkable and that she admired him.

"...I cannot say how much it gladdens me to hear you hold me in such high esteem," he replied earnestly, feeling warm to his core. "Though I fear the reality of this man you see before you does not always measure up," he confessed quietly. There were many times in his life when he had given into anger, doubt, distrust. To passions less constructive or benign than those he favored.

"You admire me too, yes?"

The sudden question brought him starting out of his thoughts. "Of course I admire you," he said quickly, unflinching. "You are—"

She held up a hand, shaking her head softly, and he found himself silenced.

"I fall short of the ideals you have praised me for all the time," she explained. "I think... I think we are the same in this regard," she continued, reflective. "Is it not the fact that we keep taking the next step towards them regardless that determines who we are? At least, that is what I see in you."

He stared at her openly, awestruck, feeling overwhelmed with emotion at her kind words. She met his eyes for a moment then looked away, reticent.

"Sorry. A bit much?"

"Yes," he breathed. "I mean, no. No. Thank you," he asserted, voice thick with emotion.

She bowed her head in a nod, seeming glad.

By the Fury, this feeling in his breast... He found himself longing to reach out to her, to move closer to her, to confess all his passions for her and more. He fairly ached for her, with a feeling of fullness in his chest that insistently demanded to be shared. But he did not. He could not, not yet. Not until their training was complete. Not until he had fulfilled his duty and imparted her with all of his strength.

The morning bell then rang out, signaling the time for them to ready themselves and head to the mess hall for breakfast. He drew in a breath and rose to his feet, and she followed him and did the same.

She waited patiently for him as he strapped himself into his armor, trying to choke down his feelings all the while. It was only when their eyes met after she'd taken an audibly refreshing gulp from her waterskin that he recalled he had something to tell her.

"Oh, yes," he said as soon as he remembered, snapping his remaining pauldron into place. "I should tell you, I have a meeting with officials from Whitebrim Front this afternoon, so I have been made to move my schedule around. Can you meet with me again for training around dinner time tonight instead?"

"Of course," she replied, nodding agreeably.

On their way towards the door, the Warrior of Light stopped abruptly. He turned to face her, and her eyes met his. The sudden intensity he saw there locked him into place. "Today, Haurchefant, I will rout you," she swore, eyes smoldering with confidence and challenge, chin lifted. "Do try your best to keep up until the end."

He drew in a breath, feeling a grin sweep across his face. His pulse pounded, suddenly charged with anticipation. "I sincerely hope you do," he intoned lowly, voice laced with threat. She smiled dangerously and nodded, satisfied.

Fury have mercy, he truly hoped she did.

The Warrior of Light felt imbued with higher purpose as she equipped herself in preparation of their duel.

Ever since waking this morning, Tataru's words taken to heart, she felt... lighter, freer, somehow. She had chosen to believe her friend's perceptions may hold truth, that the fondness and passion Haurchefant displayed in her presence may not be merely that of platonic friendship between two warriors, but something more. Something about merely entertaining this possibility gave her courage. She'd allowed herself to simply speak her thoughts and feelings about him as they came, heedless of what he may think, and to observe his reaction.

And he'd... he'd treated her as a friend, as she had treated him, but the flush at his cheeks, the way he averted his eyes at times, spoke of a struggle to keep his composure. She wasn't sure whether this was simply due to being unused to receiving such unguarded praise from those he respected, or because she had stirred feelings in him, but in full honesty, either possibility excited her. She wanted to see him smiling and satisfied in her presence. Regardless of what came next, that on its own stirred affection and pride in her chest and was certainly only a step in the right direction.

And it was true. The more she learned about the man, the more she found herself admiring him. Not simply physically, or for the sheer kinetic joy of their clashes and banter, but merely as a man who fought and strived and greeted each challenge with undying hope. Although the tension of their parting words of challenge still crackled sparks of anticipation down her spine for those things as well.

She had declared her victory in advance. She was not often one to do so as aught but strategic bluster, but something in her had felt exceptionally bold and sure of herself. After weeks of being clouded by one-sided longing, her mind felt exceptionally clear today, though she still ached to tell him how she yearned for him, to touch him, to taste him. But the hope her friend had given her seemed to momentarily free her up to focus on the task at hand.

She would defeat him this day. She would lay him low. And then maybe, just maybe, with the courage that victory earned her, she would find out whether he yearned for her too.

She slid her sword and scabbard into their belt, hung her shield at her back and made for the door.

Chapter Text

When the Warrior of Light stepped softly into the clearing, the first tendrils of dusk had begun to swallow the setting sun. Thick clouds covered most of the sky, leaving the scene for their confrontation largely lit by lamplight and the bright reflective white of packed snow.

She saw Haurchefant's shadow, long and looming across the courtyard, before her eyes found the man himself. He met her gaze, sized her up, nodded in acknowledgement, and drew his shield and blade.

Like every other time she'd faced him in battle, she felt intense and charged as she drew her weapons, every muscle in her body coiled and ready to strike. There was levin in the air between them, the electric tension of two warriors, both at their peak, each staking everything on this clash between them. Unlike the other times she'd faced him, however, she also felt strangely at ease. The path she had chosen was right, her rise inevitable. She would show him her all, and she would not be found wanting.

He struck first, with flawless decisive movement that left no opening. She blocked with her shield, then parried the strike that followed, ducking and twisting out of his reach. As he spun to face her again, eyes sharp and wild in the lamplight, she coiled and swung. He parried with his blade, locking it against hers, but she made contact before he could find the stable footing of his proper stance, and he slid backwards in the snow. He pushed forward against her blade with incredible might to counter his backward momentum, and she had no choice but to jump back and reorient herself, shield held ready. They eyed each other for a moment, slowly circling.

"Impressive," he uttered, pale blue hair glowing orange in the light and fluttering in a sudden gust of wind. "But not enough—"

She cut him off with a sudden incursion from below, leaping to cover the distance between them in an instant, blade slamming against his shield, wind at her back. He counterattacked with expert precision but with eyes wide open she found she knew his movements, his tendencies — and although he too knew hers, she was faster.

Their eyes met as she dodged his blow, Haurchefant's mouth curved into a wicked grin, which she could not help but meet instinctively, challenge rising within her.

"Give me all you have," she incited him, body thrumming with excitement as she spun to parry another strike, shoving his blade away with her shield.

"Gladly," came his answering shout, eyes gleaming with delight and cunning, and he did not cease. He rained countless relentless blows upon her, flowing together with escalating speed and power, and it took all she had to keep up, blocking and parrying with every ounce of awareness and training she possessed.

She weaved out of the way of his chain of strikes to answer with her own, and they traded blows in a seamless flow, swords slicing sharp shining arcs through the whipping wind, shields moving to block and push apart, neither of them gaining or losing ground for more than a fleeting moment. We are equally matched, she realized with both thrill and despair.

It was instances like these, stuck in a stalemate against an opponent who countered her every move, that the Echo liked to offer her its advantage — that and times when she was blatantly overwhelmed, coming within an inch of her life. She had attempted to use it to best him before. But facing Haurchefant today, body sore and panting and increasingly struggling to keep up, seeing the same signs of fatigue in him, she found herself actively willing the Echo not to manifest.

She wanted to defeat him with naught but her own skill, the skill which he had granted her. She wanted to show him how much she truly valued his training, his lessons - how she had made it into a part of her very being.

She drew in a deep breath of freezing dusk air and felt power welling up inside her.

Letting out a primal shout, the Warrior of Light put full force into her blade, thrusting it towards him in a piercing arc at blinding speed. Haurchefant brought his sword up to parry, shield readied behind his blade, but she shifted the angle of her strike so quickly that she caught the guard of his sword with her strike, tipping it free from his grasp. In one brilliant, breathless moment, Haurchefant's blade flew through the air and landed with a crunch in a pile of frozen snow, piercing into the hard ground below.

She stood before him, standing tall and defiant in her victory, and softly lifted his chin with the tip of her blade. His shield clattered to the ground, hands raised in defeat as he looked down at her with wide astonished eyes.

"Finally," she sighed in satisfaction, panting hard, heart pounding with exertion. She shut her eyes for a moment, breathing hard, hand steady on her blade. When she opened her eyes to look up at him, he was staring at her, face reddened from the cold, expression awed. When their eyes met, a deeply gratified grin spread widely across his face, and he tilted his chin up further, exposing more of his long, vulnerable neck to her, almost as if reveling in his defeat. A wave of some intense overwhelmed feeling swept through her at this, freezing her on the spot, immediately transfixed.

"Finally," he agreed in a low, breathless rumble that carried to her ears even as the winds yet whistled around them.

Staring down at the Warrior of Light, the flat of her blade hovering right underneath his chin, Haurchefant had never felt quite so alive. He was wholly exposed, had leaned in to her unexpected gesture of power and laid himself even further at her mercy, and yet his heart beat with a mix of adrenaline, pride, and steady trust. If she deigned to, she could easily take his life in one swift stroke. But of course, he knew she wouldn't.

Her eyes met his with a look of questioning wonder, her gaze trailing down to the blade she held at his neck and back up again. Fury but she was beautiful, wide eyes gleaming with flashes of orange lamplight, face flushed in the freezing air, heavy breaths escaping her mouth in thick plumes of fog that twisted up and around her on gusts of strong wind. She had stood radiant in her victory, disarming him with a skill and speed that amazed him, but now her brilliant joy had condensed into something akin to awe, seemingly hypnotized by the line of life and death that connected them, the delicate thread of fate that she held him by.

He, too, could think of nothing else, feeling the thrum of power exchanged between them. He opened his mouth to speak, eyes fixed on hers, but a heavy gale suddenly buffeted at his back, pushing him slightly forward. In a moment of sheer panic, he felt the flat of her blade touch the underside of his chin again, cold as ice, and he momentarily feared the gods themselves would do him in — but fear struck her eyes too, and she quickly withdrew her blade, sheathing it at her hip. He fell to his knees, the energy to stand leaving him in a rush, head reeling with a mixture of terror, heady relief and pure adrenaline.

He heard her shield drop beside his with a hard thunk and she raced over to him, kneeling before him, gloved hand on his upper arm.

"Are you—" she asked desperately, peering close, trying to get a good look at him.

He lifted his head and ran his fingers down his neck and throat, feeling no pain at the scale of his worn leather glove dragging against his skin. "I appear to be fine," he panted, still a bit unsteady. He heard her take in a shaky breath. "I am wholly unharmed," he insisted, meeting her eyes and seeing the wild panic in them soften to a look of intense regret.

"Why did you— no, why did I— oh gods, I am sorry—"

He shook his head slowly, reaching up and grabbing her hand in both of his, squeezing it tightly in a gesture of comfort. "It is alright," he assured her, voice as calming and level as he could keep it. She met his steady gaze with a look of concern, brow furrowing, lips pressed into a tense line and nodding slowly as if trying to accept his words as truth. "We both got carried away, and I daresay a storm seems to be starting." The wind howled around them, piercing cold through the gaps in his mail, and he felt them both shiver, her hand shaking in his grasp. He smiled at her. "Shall we go celebrate your victory and warm up inside?"

She nodded eagerly, he released her hand, and they helped each other stand and gather their weapons, hunched against the now raging winds. They took a winding path towards a back entrance to the barracks along the edges of buildings, skirting corners to avoid bearing the brunt of the freezing gale, now raining down thick flakes of snow. By the time they made it indoors, out of breath and shivering, their armor was ice cold and had snow caked into all its crevices. They ran up to his training room and removed their gear, assisting each other with numb fingers, then both still stood shivering in their sweaters and trousers, the barely tepid air of the room not enough to warm them.

"We should find a hearth," the Warrior said, rubbing her palms together. "The one in the dining hall should still be lit, if dinner hours are not quite over," she suggested.

He inclined his head, considering, even as he ran his hands back and forth against his own cheeks to warm them. "I have a room in my quarters for entertaining guests," he offered. "It is nearby, and the hearth is still left warm from this afternoon's meeting. I can ply you with some hot cocoa?"

He smiled hopefully at her, and she met him with a look of eager relief. "That sounds wonderful," she replied just as eagerly, and for a moment his pining heart forgot her words were likely only meant for the hearth and hot beverage. "Please, lead the way."

--

Haurchefant's personal chambers were simply right down the hall from his training room, a fact he had not previously found a reason to divulge. His meeting room served as an entrance to them, a living room of sorts to a well-appointed suite of bedroom, baths, kitchen and study; a privilege afforded to him as commander.

The meeting room itself simply held a large, inviting hearth, a half-circle of comfortable armchairs and a sofa, facing the fire; an area for preparing light refreshments, and a long, low table for sharing drinks, playing games, and plotting out plans. Everything was high quality, befitting a son of House Fortemps; richly dyed fabrics, finely carved woods, soft velvet upholstery.

Both of them let out an audible sigh of relief as they stepped into the space, suffused with warmth as it was. They both instinctively drew close to the fireplace to bathe in its heat. The fire itself was gone, only slow-burning yet still hot embers remaining, and Haurchefant grabbed logs and kindling from his nearby stores to replenish it. Soon he had stoked a large, crackling blaze, heat washing over them in intense, comforting waves as they knelt on his thick yak fur rug.

"Much better," he sighed, full feeling returning to his hands as he warmed them, and she nodded and sighed too beside him, touching her newly hot hands to her neck and shuddering with relief.

He looked at her to find her watching the flames. "I can scarce believe how cold it got so quickly," she said, stretching out further before the fire, relaxing. "The winds of Coerthas are certainly not to be trifled with."

He nodded in agreement, stretching out as well. "'Tis true. When the winds are stilled it is a simple matter to stay warm with thick underclothing. But when the winds blow this strongly... well, it can become deadly in a matter of bells, and no manner of insulation alone will protect you," he explained, and she met him with a look of solemn understanding. "But we are safe indoors now, and my hearth is as ever yours," he offered, smiling warmly, and she returned it with a warm smile of her own.

Seeing her there, sprawled out comfortably on his rug, luxuriating in his hearth's blazing heat, looking up at him fondly, made his heart begin to beat faster again. He rose to his feet, suddenly anxious to busy himself with a task. "I promised you hot cocoa," he reminded her, inclining his head, and she nodded agreeably. "Pray take your ease however you like."

Haurchefant occupied his hands with the task of heating milk over a small gas stove in a corner of the room, following his family's recipe for hot cocoa that had been committed to memory for decades. His mind, however, raced a bit, thinking of his companion.

She had bested him, finally, just as she'd said she would. It was exhilarating and humbling to see his student overcome him, though having witnessed the strength of the Warrior of Light in her element firsthand, he knew it was only inevitable that she would. Yet the speed at which she disarmed him... the lightness of her movements, pure and focused... it nearly made him tremble to remember.

Her blade at his throat had sent an incredible thrill through him, foolish as it had been on both their parts. His life in her hands, bared for her eagerly — that much had felt right to him, had felt indescribably intimate. His heart surged with affection as he remembered how she'd panicked when the winds kicked up, desperate to see that she had not harmed him. How she'd come to his aid without a moment's hesitation, her fair features full of concern and caring for him. How she'd calmed and stilled in his hands.

She was finished with her training now. He hoped dearly that she'd want to continue meeting with him regardless, but now that she'd defeated him and been taught all he'd had to teach, he felt a powerful sense of relief, and also a feeling of foreboding nervousness. He knew he had to tell her what he was feeling towards her. How he longed to be close to her. How he wanted her so badly that sometimes her mere presence made him feel weak.

But when was the right moment? Surely not now, now was a time to celebrate her victory. He should be offering his congratulations, not jumbled up in his head like this. Yet her victory itself, like everything else he'd experienced with her, had affected him more deeply than he'd even expected.

He poured a measure of maple syrup and spices into the warming pot of milk, and a wonderful familiar creamy smell steamed up from it, rich and comforting. The scent soon evidently reached her as well, as he heard what sounded like a sigh of hungry longing and turned to see her rising to her feet and approaching him.

"How does it smell so good? You haven't even added the chocolate yet," she said with a tone of wonder, peering into the steaming pot.

He smiled, proud. "Secret family recipe," he divulged, not explaining himself further. "Though, I am about to add it, if you would like to watch."

She nodded, and he picked up a rasp and a block of fine chocolate off the counter and began to grate it into the pot. He watched her as she watched the shavings fall and instantly begin melting once they hit the hot liquid, releasing a delicious fragrance. Once he'd finished grating he went to stir it in, and a wonderful rich scent began to bloom all around them.

She closed her eyes in apparent pleasure, inhaling deeply, and he couldn't help but flush a bit watching her.

"That smells divine," she said as she opened her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief.

It did smell wonderful. It was one of his favorite things. And yet, watching her enjoy herself so thoroughly simply observing him prepare it...

"It's all but finished now," he told her, eyebrows lifted. "You need but take a seat and wait a mere moment, and we can enjoy."

"You don't have to tell me twice," she responded, hurrying over to the center of the room and making herself comfortable at one end of the well-worn sofa that had the best view of the fire.

Haurchefant finished stirring the cocoa together, put a lid on the pot and poured it carefully into two large mugs. He checked the temperature on his - it was perfect, nearly too hot to drink but not quite. He approached the Warrior and handed her her steaming mug of cocoa, which she took gratefully in her hands.

"Congratulations," he declared, beaming. He sat down beside her on the other end of the sofa and lifted his mug towards her in a toast. "To your victory," he said, meeting her gaze.

She met him with a brilliant smile. "To making me work for it," she laughed, tapping her mug against his with a loud clink, and he laughed with her.

They drank at this, Haurchefant drinking deeply, savoring the warmth it spread down through his whole body, relaxing further back into his chair.

"Twelve this is delicious," she swore. "You spoil me. The hot cocoa in the mess hall has nothing on this."

"I didn't know you were so fond of the beverage. Had I known, I would have offered you some of my own make much sooner."

"I'd never had it before arriving here," she admitted. "But I have always been partial to hot beverages. And this, it's... rich, decadent, uniquely Coerthan. I like it very much." She took another sip, eyes closed and clearly savoring the flavor, and despite having just imbibed nearly half a mug's worth of cocoa himself, Haurchefant's mouth felt dry.

"I am full glad," he said, grip tightening on his cup. "It is my favorite."

"It may be becoming one of my favorites, too," she said, looking up at him sweetly through thick dark lashes.

Oh Halone, did she know what she was doing to him?

He could barely even taste the rich drink on his own tongue as he looked at her, seeing her so thoroughly enjoying every sip of the decadent beverage he'd prepared for her, her face full of unguarded pleasure. They drank in shared silence for a while, and his pulse raced, certain that the hearth and the hot drink were not the only reasons he felt so nearly-stiflingly warm.

By the time he'd drained his cup, he was just about sweating.

He watched, transfixed, as the Warrior of Light, reaching the end of her own mug, carefully enjoyed her final, extra-rich sip, flicked her tongue out to catch any stray drips that remained on her lips, and gently placed the cup down on the table with a soft ceramic clack.

Her eyes met his, then flitted away, looking at her hands as they rested in her lap.

"Haurchefant," she asked softly, "Have you been watching me drink?"

He started, freezing stiff in panic. Had he been so open, so brazen with her? Still, it... it was not so strange of him, was it?

"Ah— Yes," he found himself forced to admit. "Forgive me, I— you just seemed to be uncommonly enjoying yourself, and there's a certain sense of pride in seeing someone appreciate your efforts so thoroughly..."

"It is alright," she replied, a soft smile tugging at her features. "It was... very, very good. All the moreso having seen you make it for me," she added, seeming nearly bashful.

His mouth fell open slightly, and he searched her face until she looked back at him and he smiled nervously out of reflex.

Heavens forfend, was she...? Did she realize how... how forward she was being, how completely her words beguiled him, his heart aching to draw her close to him?

Did she...?

And... what if she did?

"You deserved a reward," he breathed, voice low. "Would that I had more to offer you that was as like to your taste."

His heart pounded as he watched her lips softly part, then curve into a small smile, eyes partly lidded and staring straight back at him. "Do you not? From where I am looking, it seems you have plenty," she said, eyes raking over his chest and shoulders before returning to his face.

He hadn't realized he'd crossed the distance between them until he had, his knee touching hers, his large Elezen hand coming up to cup her face and the side of her neck. Her skin was hot underneath his touch, and so soft it practically begged him to not part from it, and he brought up his thumb to gently trace at her lower lip.

She shuddered at his touch, panting a hot breath against his thumb. "Haurchefant," she keened needily, looking at him with fervent desperation, and the last vestige of restraint in him snapped.

Haurchefant's eyes were hot on hers, gleaming with open hunger, as he bent down and pulled her in by the chin. Their noses brushed, shallow breaths puffing hot on each other's faces, and Haurchefant only hesitated for the briefest of moments before pressing his lips to hers.

Nothing about his kiss was tentative, nothing about it held any doubts. The Warrior of Light found herself swept away in his sudden passion, bringing her hands up to his neck as she kissed him back, her body drawn towards his as if by magnetism, chest aching, heart pounding. He wrapped an arm around her back and brought his hand to the crook of her waist and drew her closer as they kissed, his large hands on her neck and waist sending hot bolts of levin coursing through her from where they touched.

They parted only briefly enough to breathe before his lips were on hers again, her mouth opening eagerly for his insistent tongue, flicking her own tongue against his longer one as it invaded her mouth and filled her senses, making her body ache with pleasure and weakness.

He tasted of hot cocoa and smelled of fresh pine and something uniquely him, and she whined softly and threaded her fingers up through his silky hair as she inhaled his scent through her nose, so satisfying and exhilarating and real. He met her whine with a low groan that rumbled against her tongue and sent her shuddering as he kissed her even deeper, before releasing her lips softly with one last flick of tongue, brushing his lips lightly against hers as he broke the kiss.

He panted her name as he caught his breath, eyes half lidded and face flushed all the way to the tips of his beautiful pointed ears. Her eyes took him in with lustful wonder as she panted for air, sweeping one hand forward from where it tangled in his hair, to under his ear, then cupping his flushed cheek. He searched her face, his expression overwhelmed with desire, eyes lingering on her lips which had swollen red from where he had so passionately kissed her.

He was so handsome, she thought, brilliant blue eyes searching hers, disheveled and flushed, trying to catch his breath.

What had she wanted to tell him? How much she wanted him, how much she'd yearned for his touch? All of that felt apparent now, now with their hands still on each other, the taste of each other on their lips.

And Haurchefant... he, too, apparently felt much the same, by the way he'd kissed her. She'd never been kissed anything like this before, with such decisive desirous longing, as if he'd wanted to sear his passion into her body itself so that none other could live up to the memory.

"Was that," he asked, looking her over, "a worthy reward?"

She nodded slowly, drawing their foreheads together, gazing into his bright cerulean eyes. "It was," she breathed, brushing her nose against the handsome curve of his own. He closed his eyes and drew in a shuddering breath, and when he opened them he smiled, so plainly relieved and overjoyed it made her heart suddenly ache.

"Splendid," he whispered to her with feeling, and the only proper answer she found within herself was to meet his lips with another kiss.

Chapter Text

Haurchefant Greystone could scarce believe his good fortune as he looked into the Warrior of Light's dazzling eyes, mere ilms from his own, her forehead pressed to his.

He'd kissed her. Oh by the Fury he'd kissed her, her needy cry of his name cleanly severing the only tenuous thread that held him back. Heart hammering, body burning with surging desire, he'd taken her in his arms and tasted her mouth, felt her pulse racing under his hands, met her with the full force of his passion. And she'd returned his kiss with apparent hunger, melting into his touch, her hot hands at his neck and in his hair, flicking her soft tongue against his, blessing his ears with a sound of her pleasure, greedily drawing him even further in until he was forced to breathe.

Had she... had she wanted him too, this whole time? He didn't know, but all that truly mattered was that she apparently wanted him now. His heart soared, a smile spreading across his face unbidden.

Her eyes searched his, face flushed and awestruck in a way that made his heart leap, before pulling him down onto her lips again, hands at his cheeks.

She kissed him with a nearly tender passion that sent an elated shiver down his spine, pressing her tongue against his lips. He gladly parted them to let her in, caressing her tongue with his own as she explored his mouth, running her thumbs over his cheekbones.

He felt a swell of affection at her gentle touch and pulled her closer, wrapping both of his arms around her until her slight frame was surrounded by him on all sides, his hands at her waist and upper back. She was hot underneath him, skin burning through the weave of her sweater, and she sighed a warm breath against him as his grip tightened on her. She nipped lightly at his lower lip, causing him to chase her forward for a moment with a gasping sigh as she broke the kiss, breathing heavily and letting her hands fall down to his collarbones.

They watched each other a moment, catching breaths, eyelids heavy.

"My friend," Haurchefant began, "'Tis your victory. Your reward. Yet you would have us celebrate by rewarding me with such passion," he said, eyes wandering over her face. Her eyes, lustful and longing. Her cheeks, flushed scarlet. Her lips, swollen a deep red and so appealing, his doing, a knowledge that made him ache. "What could I ever have done to stoke such desires in you?"

What had he done to make her want him in this way? It was a question that felt plainly absurd to her, gently caged in his arms and held like something delicate he yet longed to devour, his beautiful blue eyes gazing at her awestruck, his face full of glorious heated color.

No, he had not to her knowledge done a single thing to make her ache for him. She wanted him because everything about him was irresistible to her. The way he met her challenges with his utmost unbridled passion, the way he tenderheartedly cared for and comforted her when she needed it most. The way sometimes he smiled so brightly for her it alone instilled her with radiant hope. His handsome, expressive features, his decorated ears she wanted so badly to touch and tease, the long, seductive expanse of his throat... The shape of him, the way he moved, lithe and nimble and sinuous, the way even his warm winter sweaters clung to his sculpted body and practically dared her to bid him reveal what was underneath.

He need not work to earn her desire. He was her desire, simply by virtue of being himself. Her body yearned and ached under his gaze, her heart racing of its own volition.

But this was all too much, too overwhelming for her to voice, what with how new the warmth of his still-clothed body felt under her hands. The heat of his passion, engraved upon her lips, beat hard and fast under her skin, tempting her to lose all reason.

"Gods, Haurchefant," she marveled, hardly able to look him in the eye without pulling him onto her and beginning to beg for anything more than a kiss. "How am I supposed to do anything but want you when you look at me like that?"

He breathed out a shuddering breath at this, mouth dropping open. "By Halone," he groaned, biting his lip. "If you do not wish to— to think less of me, to see me prove myself far from a gentleman, please... please do not speak of me so," he cautioned, his grip on her tightening. "I have... for far too long I have thought of naught but you, in ways that I fear risk our friendship, and I— you mean very much to me, and I could not—"

They had truly suffered this same aching need together? The Warrior of Light felt a surge of courage sweep through her. "You mean much to me, too," she assured him, bringing gentle fingers to his chin. His eyes swam with emotion, searching hers. "I would not think less of you," she continued earnestly, then took a breath, meeting his eyes with a face that now felt burning hot, "If you would not think less of me, for knowing I was so utterly lost in imagining you ravishing me at swordpoint that I once fled the scene of our battle entirely, for fear of being unable to control myself..."

A mixture of shame and pure, overwhelming arousal flooded her as she spoke, only building as her words hung in the air.

Haurchefant drew in a quavering breath, and she met his eyes. They were dark, pupils blown dangerously wide, and she felt a shiver shoot down her spine upon seeing them.

"...You mean to tell me that while I spent that night aching for you, praying to the Fury for the will to endure, in shame and weakness for so nearly giving in, you... you wanted me to..." He choked out hoarsely, looking down over her torso, sucking a hard breath in and swallowing.

She nodded slowly, mind hazy with lust. "I want you, Haurchefant. Twelve, please, you can't kiss me like that and then hesitate—"

His large hands gripped her tightly and pushed her flat against the sofa, before suddenly his mouth was on her in a searing kiss, teeth nipping at her lips before utterly devouring them, tongue pressing into her hard. She whined eagerly and kissed him back with utter abandon, arms thrown around his back, hands seeking to feel the curve of his body above her through his thick sweater. He straddled her hips, hovering above her, hands on either side of her neck pressing her down... then as soon as they both ran out of air, gasping for breath, he looked at her, eyes wild, then furrowed his brow and bit his lip.

"Not here," he said quickly, forcing himself with apparent great effort to push himself off the couch and kneel next to her, hooking his arms underneath her. A thrill of excitement rushed through the Warrior of Light as she was suddenly lifted in his arms as though she weighed nothing. "I would not deny you any comfort as I unravel you."

His words, articulated strong and deliberate, sent a scorching heat down between her legs. Even though they were still fully clothed, even though they had done naught but simply kiss — she breathed hard and nodded, wide-eyed, and he offered her a lusty smile before carrying her across the room and through a door.

After a few quick steps, she was set down gently on a soft mattress as Haurchefant quickly flicked on a pair of dim gas lamps on either side of the bed. This was clearly Haurchefant's personal bedchamber, sparsely but tastefully decorated, with the centerpiece of the room being a large, four-poster bed with a warm, incredibly soft duvet she found herself laying upon, her head resting comfortably amongst a veritable nest of pillows. The bed faced a roaring fireplace, evidently the same one they'd lit in the other room but on the other side of the wall, allowing the flames to bathe the room in firelight and warm its normally sleeping occupant.

But neither of them were asleep now, not in the least, as the large Elezen man crawled atop the bed and loomed over her on hands and knees, eyes raking over her body hungrily in a way that she could nearly physically feel.

The Warrior of Light reached up and threw her arms around Haurchefant's neck, pulling him down on top of her, her lips at his throat. She gave him a soft kiss underneath his earlobe and he gasped against her neck, then gave him another, harder this time. A shiver of levin coursed through him at her kiss, and he let his hands wander down her sides and around her waist, feeling the shape of her. She squirmed into his touch, clearly eager for more.

She was here, on his bed, underneath him, practically begging him to touch her. She wanted him, Fury there was naught more important than that she wanted him, and yet he could not find it in himself to merely strip her bare and ravage her, satisfying to his base desires as that would surely be. He was determined to take his time, to truly savor every second of this. But at the same time, every bit of him ached to lift her sweater, to finally see the beautiful contours of her finely honed body, to taste her skin under his tongue... his fingers ran down to the edge of the fabric, teasing at it—

He breathed in sharply against her neck as she traced the long lobe of his ear with a thumb and forefinger, feeling a shiver of pleasure roll down his spine. His nose filled with her scent, a heady mix of mint and steel and wildflowers, and he groaned out a strained breath, lifting his head to look her in the eye.

"Fury, my friend," he said warningly, "Have you not been with an Elezen before?"

She shook her head, clearly both overwhelmed and extremely gratified at his reaction.

"The ears are... they are quite sensitive," he explained, moving his lips closer to her own ear. "If you tease them like that... or like this," he murmured, taking the soft edge of her ear in his lips and sucking it softly, gently mouthing up the shell of it with his lips and the tip of his tongue — she panted out a soft sound of pleasure that thrilled him — "...ah, I see it is somewhat similar for you." he hummed smugly, nosing against her ear.

"That is... that is not fair," she pouted. "You can't simply do that to me while you're still fully clothed... without the heat of your body on mine..." she complained, face red and nearly petulant.

Gods above, she was irresistible, adorable, charming. He would give her what she wanted, oh yes, that and much more, but teasing her was so unexpectedly rewarding. Yet... yet hearing that she longed to feel his body made him draw in a breath. "'Twas exactly the point I was trying to make," he said, rising up onto his knees above her, straddling her hips. The way her eyes stuck firmly to the hem of his sweater did not escape his notice.

Haurchefant smiled down at the Warrior of Light, and pulled his sweater off over his head and discarded it carelessly in one swift motion. The man who towered over her now was... gods, he was... Haurchefant's torso was long and lanky like all Elezen, but through his rigorous daily training he had carved out a sinuous body of the likes she had never seen on such a frame. His long, graceful neck led to broad shoulders rounded with thick muscle, his collarbones stood out sharp and delicate. His torso was... well, it looked powerful, not the starved, sharp musculature of a bodybuilder nor the hulking build of a Roegadyn, but his wide chest sloped to a slim waist and hips, all packed with the chiseled yet soft muscle of a man who used his strength daily. As proof of this, his skin was marred with scattered scars, some curving over his clearly defined abdominal muscles in a way that she felt was nearly obscene.

His hip bones peeked out over the waistband of his trousers, and a faint dusting of pale blue hair led invitingly down from his navel. She could see signs of his arousal restrained below, under his clothing. Her eyes slowly traveled back up his body, and, salivating at the sight of him, she swallowed and fixed her gaze on his.

"Do you... like what you see," he said in a low, breathy tone, more as an observation than a question. His face was fully flushed. She suddenly realized she must have been staring at him with incredible intensity, but she felt no shame at this, only sheer arousal. She nodded slowly, letting her eyes take in all of him once more.

"Gods yes," she marveled, sitting up and reaching towards him, placing a hand on his bare chest. He was so warm, and he let out a hard, open-mouthed breath and leaned into her touch as she ran her hands over his firm pectorals, the thin lines of his collarbones, finger tracing the jagged line of a thin scar that marked his chest. "You are... incredible. More than I even imagined," she admitted.

"You imagined me," he said, putting his hands at her shoulders and pushing her back down into the pillows, lips at her neck. She let out a soft gasp as he kissed her softly there, then hard, then nipped lower where her neck sloped down to her shoulder. She breathed hard, running her hands up and down the hot, muscular expanse of his back.

"I did," she sighed, as he pulled down the collar of her sweater to let himself kiss at the divot between her collarbones. "Did you— did you imagine me?" she found herself asking, knowing in the shake of his breath and the fisting of his hands into the sides of her sweater what his answer would be.

"Every night," he choked out, eyes intense on hers, and her heart clenched in her chest, cheeks flushing pink.

"Then..." she began, sliding her hands down off of him and to the lower hem of her sweater, beginning to tug it upwards. Haurchefant let go of her and stilled, watching in awe as she moved back and forth underneath him, slowly pulling her sweater up over her shoulders and head, tossing it off the side of the bed, breast band and all. "How do I compare to your imagination?"

The absolute moan of her name that escaped from his lips was the single most gratifying response she could have possibly imagined.

Hot lips fell upon her chest, kissing nearly devoutly over the swell of her breast. A large hand traced its way up her stomach, feeling the contours of her hard-earned, visible abs, making her squirm under his attentions. Haurchefant breathed heavily, watching her. "Your body... Fury, your body," he groaned, hand running up to cup her breast gently and then squeeze, making her whine and shiver into him as his thumb flicked over her soft nipple, causing it to stiffen at his touch. He drew in a breath and ran his hand lower again, tracing a winding line down her stomach, bringing his other hand to tease at her other breast. "Your soft, velvety skin... the hard, chiseled contours of your warrior's physique... your divinely beautiful curves..." He brought his lips to her chest again and licked a sweeping arc around her areola before sucking the whole nipple into his mouth, the tip of his tongue teasing the hard nub as he did. She could not help but moan at this, hands fisting into the duvet, chest arcing up towards him. A hand grabbed at her waist, feeling how she moved beneath him, as he let out a shuddering breath through his nostrils, flicking her nipple with his tongue just a bit more, relishing the sounds it wrung from her.

He looked up at her, face scarlet in the firelight, looking utterly overwhelmed. "And so responsive," he admired, hand and face moving to her other breast, ghosting hot breath over her nipple and watching her meet him with a look of desperation. "Even my most indulgent imaginings do not measure up."

His mouth was on her breast again, lips and tongue gently tugging at the nub, licking decadent sucking swirls around it as he kneaded at her flesh with his hands, which were large enough to cover her breasts completely. She could not help but whimper and moan at his ministrations, his skilled tongue sending waves of heat down to pool in her belly. She felt a smile against her chest after she let out a particularly loud sound, and looked down to see pleased blue eyes gleaming up at her through long lashes, his mouth stuffed full of her breast in a way that made her own imagination begin to run wild.

Twelve, if his mouth felt this good at her breasts, would she just simply die if he went further south?

"H-how am I supposed to not respond to this?" she asked, squirming underneath him as he moved back to her other breast, making sure it received just as much attention in the same slow, deliberate, torturous way. He seemed to read her movements exceptionally well, knowing just how hard to tease before it became overwhelming. "By Menphina— you are too good at this," she groaned, shuddering as his teeth grazed a gentle nibble against her chest, then began kissing back up towards her collarbone in a series of sensuous, admiring arcs that made her heart pound.

"Am I?" Haurchefant met her gaze to ask hopefully, eyes half-lidded, reddened lips curving in a both confident and gratified smile that dizzied her to see.

She nodded and threaded a hand up through his hair, cupping the back of his ear, and he shivered into her touch. With another hand to his shoulder she pulled them both down onto their sides on the bed, facing one another, and pulled his head in for a kiss.

His lips were now hot and puffy, and as she kissed him with an open mouth she could still taste the faint seductive flavor of cocoa on his tongue. He kissed her back, long and languid, his tongue and hands and fingers all caressing her and pulling her closer in towards him, until they both shuddered at the wave of heat as their chests and stomachs pressed together. She could feel his heart pounding against her, strong and fast, and his hands clutched at her back and waist, keeping her pulled tightly against him.

There was a strangely warm feeling building in her chest as they kissed, slow and deep and suddenly unhurried, unexpectedly finding herself lost in him, in the heat and smell of him, in the way his lips and tongue met hers with a slow enfolding embrace, in the steadying weight of his arms around her. She cracked one eye open to see his brows knitted upwards as he kissed her, eyes closed but full of some sincere, unguarded emotion she could not name, making her chest feel heavy and her limbs feel weak.

She traced her fingers slowly along the edges of his exposed ear, firmly caressing the soft skin and cartilage, and he shuddered and moaned into their kiss, breathing hotly through his nose, eyes flying open to meet hers.

He groaned her name against her lips, and she kept touching his ear, grazing around the metal of his ear cuffs, slowly working her way all the way down to his ear's delicate point. His ear was somehow incredibly soft to the touch despite how surely it had been so often exposed to the elements, and she found herself absolutely enraptured by the way he shuddered and writhed against her, watching her with eyes wide, their kiss steadily interrupted by his heavy breaths.

Something about seeing these clear signs of pleasure on his face, feeling his stuttering movements and breaths vibrating through her, sent a sudden spike of heat burning down to her core.

"You really are sensitive there," she wondered, pulling away from their kiss and ghosting a breath over his ear. He trembled, clinging to her. She stroked all the way down the top edge of his ear, admiring. "Your ears are so beautiful, too," she said, pressing a gentle kiss to the lobe. "It's so hard not to touch them."

"By the Fury," Haurchefant hissed out the Warrior's name, then interrupted himself with a gasp before he'd barely begun to speak. She teased up the lower edge of his ear with her lips and tongue as he had done to her, sending a shower of sparks down through him as she did, heat pooling quickly below. The sensation was overwhelming, but not something he could come from alone, somewhat akin to having his nipples teased. Hearing that she found his ears beautiful, though, made his chest leap even as he writhed at her touch. If she wanted to touch them so badly he would let her do so as much as his rapidly weakening body could bear, until he was begging for relief.

As he thought this, some of his longed-for relief suddenly came in the hot wave of her thigh suddenly pushing between his, pressing tentatively against his arousal. He hissed in a breath and jerked his head to face her, eyes wide and meeting hers to find them equally wide, lips fallen open.

He closed them with a kiss, hands weaving into her hair, her open mouth meeting his with a hum of pleasure through her nose, and he gently pushed her back until he was atop her on his bed, his legs straddling her thigh. She stroked gently at both his ears, a sensation both exciting and intimately comforting, and his heart raced, building with emotion. Halone, but she was captivating, making him feel a way even he hadn't expected. The Warrior of Light was a caring and considerate friend, of course, but when full of passion in battle she was nothing but hot intensity, grinning confidence and determined grit. With how she'd met his first kisses with a desperate hunger, and with all the sheer power she possessed, he hadn't expected her to be so eagerly receptive to his touch, so easily caught up in his slow, intimate kisses, her hazy eyes lost and reveling in every expression of his pleasure. It made his chest ache.

He'd loved others before, he'd thought — felt a fond affection, a soaring limerence, a pure sorrow upon parting. He fell easily, mourned briefly, recovered swiftly. This felt different, somehow. He wanted her in a way that felt almost dangerous to him — a way that had been dangerous, her blade at his willingly bared throat, an expression of his need to give himself to her. And yet underneath the raw edge of desire laid a soft affection, caring, a yearning for her comfort and closeness, stoked further by her soft moans and gentle touches. He did not know what to call this feeling growing inside him. It was all-encompassing, overwhelming. As he drew closer, slowly pressing his clothed arousal into her thigh, and his thigh in between hers, dragging it softly against her core, he watched open-eyed as she threw back her neck and let out a shuddering gasp. She gripped firmly at his ears, the combination of this and the friction at his groin making him whine.

"Haurchefant," she breathed heavily, eyes vulnerable and heated as they met his, trailing a hand down to his neck, and another over his chest, gently brushing her thumb over his nipple, making him bite his lip. "I— gods, I—"

"I know," he groaned, bending down to claim her exposed neck in his lips, shuddering at the sheer heat he felt as this caused her to buck her hips up into him, pressing his hard, still-clothed length against the seam where her hip and thigh joined. "I— I feel it too," he said, cupping the side of her face in one hand, running the other up over her torso, feeling her stomach tighten under his touch, squeezing at her breasts.

In a moment of sudden heat, neither knowing who lit the match, both Haurchefant and the Warrior of Light began kissing hard at each other's necks, rutting against each other like touch-starved teenagers. Her heated hands roamed wildly over his chest and stomach and back as he arched over her, grinding sensuously against her, both of them panting and moaning against each other's necks. Haurchefant flicked his tongue against her racing pulse and she whimpered, clinging to him, neck tilting into his mouth. In a flash of selfish indulgence he brought his mouth down firmly against her skin and sucked hard, teeth gently nipping at her hot flesh.

"Yes," she cried, grinding hard against him, the building pleasure making his vision waver. "Gods yes, please—" He sucked harder, trailing his ravenous mouth slowly down the curve of her shoulder and tasting the heat of her skin, spurred on by her relentless motions and a loud string of moaned encouragements.

By the time he broke for air a long patchy trail was forming on her neck, and something in him ached seeing that he'd marked her, that she'd begged for it, that now she was near shaking underneath him, trailing her hands down his sides to his hips, making him shiver. His trousers had become painfully tight, and he looked down at her as her hands came to rest on his waistband, looking up at him questioningly with a hunger in her eyes, opening her mouth to speak.

He bit his lip and inhaled, bracing himself, calling her by name. "I fear if you touch me any more right now I— I might well disappoint you," he confessed, a wide-eyed look of understanding flicking across her face. "If you would first grant me an indulgence..." he trailed off, bending down and kissing down her chest, maintaining eye contact the entire time, watching the dawning realization of where he might be going with this wash over her, feeling a sense of intense, intimate tension. His lips and light flicks of tongue traced over the tight muscles of her stomach, worshipping every ilm of her and reveling in how her body moved underneath him, his pulse building faster as he went. He planted a long, hot kiss under her navel and smiled up at her, hopeful, eyes lidded with arousal. "I would taste you, first, if you'll allow it."

"Please," she begged, gazing at him with bewildered, ecstatic longing, and he brought his hands to the fastening of her trousers with a hungry fire in his eyes and an ache in his belly.

Chapter Text

The Warrior of Light could not take her eyes off Haurchefant as he deftly undid the buttons on her trousers, his eyes heavy with desire. He'd kissed and laved and teased her whole torso all the way down to the edge of her waistband with nearly reverent lips and tongue, and after all their desperate grinding she found herself nearly begging for release. Yet the way his eyes lingered on hers for silent confirmation as he began to slowly pull her trousers down, the way he watched her shimmy her hips to wiggle out of the unwanted clothing and discard it, the way his mouth dropped open and his breath caught at the sight of her in nothing but her simple white smalls, had her slowing down to savor every moment of his attention.

He looked back up at her, meeting her eyes with another questioning glance, and she nodded, feeling her face grow hotter. At her cue he gently ran his fingers down the front of her smalls, cupping and caressing the heat of her, and she arched her hips into his hand with a hissing sigh of relief, watching him. His fingers curved further back, pressing flat over her entrance, and they both let out a shiver. He suddenly withdrew his hand, rubbing his fingertips together, and gasped.

"You're so wet," he choked out, looking at her with wide, blown-out eyes. She flushed further, rubbing her thighs together instinctively. "No, no, it is... oh Halone give me strength, to imagine that I could do such a thing to you..." He looked outright hungry, like it was all he could do not to bring his dampened fingers to his lips, like he wished to rip her smalls straight off of her.

And by the Twelve, she found that she wanted him to.

"I imagine you could do much more to me, Haurchefant," she retorted with a breathless smile. "And I would be ever, ever glad for it—"

Before she could so much as blink, something in her companion had snapped, and she found her smallclothes being roughly dragged down to her ankles, then discarded at the foot of the bed.

He crawled up the bed towards her, pushing her knees up as he did, until his head hovered between her raised thighs. He took in the sight of her laid bare before him with a look of reverent, starving awe, and groaned out her name. The air between them was thick with anticipation as he tore his face away from where her legs met to kiss up the inside of her thigh with an emotional intensity that sent her panting and aching for him more and more the higher he went. Finally, his breath puffing hot over her, he met her slick heat with his tongue, curving around the edge of her clit and dipping all the way down, spreading her lips apart in one long, slow stripe. He breathed in as he went, deeply inhaling the scent of her, and the sheer intimacy of it all made her head spin. He sucked at her entrance, lapping up the wetness gathered there, brows knitted together in an expression of total ecstasy, then licked his way back up, eyes rising to meet her gaze as he did.

"You are— gods," he panted her name, "You taste divine," he said with utter aching sincerity, licking a patch of her slick off his lips with utmost relish. "I—I wonder how you will taste, coming apart on my lips—"

She reached a hand into his hair at this, gently pushing his face down onto her, and he gasped, delighted, and met her with a passionate, devouring kiss. His lips engulfed her clit, tongue dancing tighter and tighter circles around it until he finally brushed it with long, gentle strokes. She moaned and writhed against his face, overwhelmed with the sharp, bright pleasure suddenly searing through her.

He feasted upon her like a man starved, working her in deliberate motions, bringing her closer to her peak only to dip down and nose lazily at her clit while he drank deeply at her entrance, his large hands caressing her and kneading at her thighs.

She felt so obscenely wet now, with his tongue on her, and her body hungered for him, his tongue teasing at her entrance making her desperate to be filled with something, anything. In another fit of passion she pushed his face down onto her once more, forcing his tongue further inside her, and they both cried out at the sensation.

"H-Haurchefant, I'm so close, please, your fingers, don't you want to feel me come—"

That was all she had to say before she was met with a long finger slipping inside her effortlessly, immediately followed by another. She shuddered with relief as he pushed them deeper inside her, working her open, making her moan and spread herself apart even further before him. His fingers were long, and worked at her with expert precision, stretching her open and curling inside her, brushing against parts of her that made her writhe and grab at the bedcovers.

"Oh," he moaned, clamping a hand to his glistening mouth, scarlet all the way to the tips of his ears. "Oh gods, the way you feel..."

Haurchefant spent a few moments simply watching her in awe, seeing his fingers disappear inside her, watching her struggle with desperate pleasure. His eyes met hers and he suddenly snapped back into focus, diving in to work at her clit once more, his tongue and lips wringing molten hot pleasure out of her as he fucked her with his fingers in earnest now, finding a rhythm that made her tremble.

Gods, she'd never felt like this, the way she did as she looked down between her legs to see Haurchefant, pale blue hair a wild mess, mouth full of her pussy, face flushed with an expression of utmost desire. She let out a moan at the sudden stretch as he added a third finger, and he looked up to meet her gaze, hazy blue eyes peering through thick pale lashes to pierce through her, and her heart surged with some strong emotion that had her releasing her grip on his hair and sliding her hands down to the sides of his head.

Thighs trembling, chest aching, pleasure building steadily upwards, she found herself unable to tear her eyes from his, overwhelmed with a deep affection. "You're... you're doing..." she panted, "so, so well—" she praised, gently stroking his flushed pointed ears, and she watched, absolutely overwhelmed, as Haurchefant's eyes rolled shut and he let out the lewdest moan she had ever heard, vibrating right up into her, sending her head reeling and her body clenching tight around his fingers.

When his eyes opened to meet her they were filled with wonder and incredible lust, and he tongued and kissed at her with renewed fervor, shivering into her continued caresses as he pleasured her, her back arching and her muscles straining as she quickly approached her peak—

He hummed a whine of sheer desire as he sucked her swollen clit up into his swirling tongue, and she came for him, hard, gripping his head and the base of his ears tightly, throwing her head back and crying out in the throes of her orgasm. He softly licked at her as she came, slowing his fingers inside her to a gentle drag, caressing her with his free hand, until finally her convulsions stilled and her breathing steadied.

She met him with a weightless, blissful smile, feeling soft and tender and somehow new, gently moving his bangs out from where they'd fallen in his eyes. He lifted his head and rose to his knees, leaning forward to gently stroke her cheek, face filled with heated affection, jaw slackened and cheeks and chin glistening with her. He gently pulled his fingers out from her and she shivered at the sensation, then watched as he seemed to notice just how coated in her his fingers were, clear sticky strands connecting them as they spread.

Her face grew hot as she watched him bring his fingers to his face, inhaling deeply to take in their scent. She stared, entranced, as he opened his dripping mouth and sensuously licked each of his long fingers completely clean, groaning softly with gratified pleasure.

Though she had just come mere moments ago, upon seeing this, she felt a roiling heat churn in her belly.

"S-splendid," he groaned, grabbing a cloth off of his nightstand and dabbing his face dry, licking any stray slick off his lips. "I can scarce believe I was allowed to partake in something so utterly sinful. That my efforts could bring you such pleasure..." he sighed, shuddering at the thought.

With some effort, she brought herself up to her weakened knees, steadying herself with a hand to his waist as she stumbled to rise. He grabbed her shoulder to steady her, and she looked up into his eyes, bringing a hand to his neck. All the swirling emotions within her began to coalesce. Her brow fixed, her gaze sharp, she drew in a breath, pulling him down into a kiss.

The Warrior of Light's lips on Haurchefant's own were confident, resolute, her strong arms pulling him down to meet her. Surely she could taste herself on him, he thought as she met him with her nimble tongue, weaving a quick pattern before he melted into the kiss, then pressing deep into his mouth, stoking the endless fire in his belly. Surely she could smell herself on him, he thought, as she panted a breath against him, lips barely apart from his, eyes intense yet clear and open. Surely she didn't care, he realized, reveling in her touch as she kissed him deeply again, running her hands down his body with a firm, passionate touch, feeling every contour of his chest and stomach.

"You are... impossible," she murmured between kisses, softly biting at his lower lip as she stroked fingertips down the trail of coarse hairs below his navel. "I have never... never in my life wanted a man as much as you," she said, eyes fixing his with smoldering heat. Haurchefant breathed in deeply at this, chest broadening, his eyes widening as hers trailed off, searching inside herself. "I... By the Twelve, Haurchefant, I..."

Some strong emotion laced her words and it moved him in both heart and body, his arms wrapped tightly around her and his face buried in her neck before he could think. "My friend," he said in a soft, low tone, "I think you will find I am very much real. And if it truly is me of all men you find you want most... you will not find yourself unsatisfied, for as long as it is I whom you want. Though I... I must warn you, the... the things I want to do to you..." She shuddered against him at this, her trapped hands tugging uselessly at his waistband, and he hissed in a breath. "...The ways in which I want you... After tasting you, feeling you come so tight around my fingers, I... I fear the urge to take you right here and now may soon be impossible to repress, aware as I am that you must need time to recover—"

The Warrior of Light forcefully tugged down his waistband an ilm or two without unfastening it, and the sudden constriction around his painfully hard arousal made him gasp. He let go of her, looking at her, finding her eyes sharp and heated and fixed directly on him. "Then do not repress it," she said firmly, chest flushing with desire, her naked body arching passionately towards him. "After that treatment, Haurchefant, there is naught I want more than to know the shape of you inside me. I do not care if it destroys me."

The blaze inside Haurchefant consumed him. Suddenly he was upon her, kissing at her neck even as he tore his own trousers off, tossing them to the ground. He parted from her only long enough to tear back the bedcovers from under them, revealing soft, silky sheets. He pushed the Warrior gently and she fell back atop them, her head and chest propped up upon the pile of pillows, watching him with breathless, lustful awe. His heart beating wildly, pure instinct taking over, he slipped out of his smalls too, baring himself fully before her.

As Haurchefant removed his tight smalls, revealing his entire body in all its splendor, chills of desire ran down the Warrior of Light's spine. He was glorious, his chiseled torso leading to long, muscular thighs and hard calves, legs soft with pale hair. But what arrested her attention most was how clearly he wanted her.

His cock was, well, at the very least proportionate to his large form, glistening wet at the tip. It bobbed up to hit his stomach as it was freed from his smalls, and, good gods, seeing it made her once-sated body ache with hunger.

"Oh, Haurchefant," she moaned, rising slightly as he came closer, leaning into his touch when he placed a hand on her neck, looking at her with hazy, starving eyes. She reached up to draw him down to her and he hissed in a breath and grabbed her wrist gently, stopping her.

"I should get protection," he forced out breathily, the thought clearly taking all of his effort to arrive at, his eyes still wandering over her.

She shook her head and he looked at her sharply, eyes wide. "It's safe," she explained, "I've used magicks. I would... I would love to feel you," she admitted, suddenly feeling very exposed, face flushing.

Haurchefant breathed her name in a way that made a warm sensation run through her, before falling upon her, his full naked body pressing upon hers in a scalding wave of contact that they both sighed into with uneven, anticipating breaths. The weight of his arousal pressed insistently against her stomach, impossible to ignore, and she spread her legs around him, knees framing his hips. He shuddered as his length pressed against her.

"Are you certain?" he asked softly, his large hand gently cupping her face, kind eyes entreating her seriously despite being clouded over with lust. She nodded. "Fury," he cursed, trembling slightly, breath hot against her cheek. "Then I shall endeavor to be... worthy of that honor..." he swore to her, voice fading to a soft mumble as he met her lips in a gentle, slow, but horribly lustful open-mouthed kiss, his tongue curling around hers, hands stroking her neck and breasts, every motion aching with promise. She brought one hand up to his ear and another trailed down his side to his waist, falling to his hip as he broke the kiss and rose a few ilms above her. He breathed hard, looking at her with longing, then slowly dragged his thick shaft up against the length of her, both of them gasping at the searing heat.

She'd bedded others before, of course, but something about this felt incredibly different to her. There was some sort of air between them that felt heavy, vulnerable, every moment savored, important to them both somehow. She tilted her hips up against him, dragging his cock through her slick, whimpering as she felt his thick flared head rub against her clit. He looked at her with something akin to a hungry awe, something in his eyes making her chest surge with emotion. She met him with a longing smile and he nodded, overwhelmed, taking himself in hand and finding her entrance.

Haurchefant looked her straight in the eye as he slowly began to push in. He was — stars, he was thick, and she found herself digging nails into his back at just the tip, the sensation nearly painful despite how incredibly wet she knew she was. He stilled immediately, running a soothing hand up the side of her thigh. "Relax," he breathed, voice gentle but beginning to break. "I shall— I shall give you all the time you need," he choked out, biting his lip, face fully scarlet, obviously struggling.

She nodded and took a deep breath, willing her tight muscles to loosen enough to allow him in. "Keep going," she urged. "I... it has been some time and you are..." She groaned, gasping as he slid in maybe an ilm further, his thick head beginning to open her apart. "R-rather exceptional."

"Am I?" he breathed, the hint of a hazy grin beginning to form on his face. "Is this— is this perhaps a first for you, to be filled this fully?" He slipped in another ilm or so and hissed in a breath, grip tight on her hip. "F-Fury," he groaned, trying to steady himself. "You are... oh you are heaven itself..."

The Warrior nodded hard, biting her lip at the sheer stretch of him as he continued to slowly fill her. He'd barely begun and seeing how much of him still had yet to enter her made her dizzy. "Yes," she confessed, "Oh gods..."

"T-truly?" Haurchefant nearly whined, slowly withdrawing a bit then pushing even further, making her groan out an incoherent sound and grip the silk sheets in her fists. "Oh, oh," he moaned her name, pressing a kiss to her bared throat as he continued sinking into her, making her quiver.

His body trembled with arduous restraint above her, but he took his time, slowly withdrawing then pressing into her further with each gentle, measured thrust, large hands spreading her thighs further around him to grant him deeper entrance. When he finally sank in all the way to the hilt, Haurchefant let out an incredible groan of relief and curved his back over her to press his forehead against her chest, the tips of his ears fully flushed. Her arms wrapped tightly around him, and she moaned at the sheer sensation of him inside her, filling her so thoroughly. He panted out a couple breaths then raised his head to look her in the eye.

"...Hello, my friend," he said with a soft tone of utter debauchery, stroking a hand up over her neck and ear. Her chest heaved as she moved into his touch, heart pounding at the sense of pure intimacy that flooded her at his words, at his blue eyes glinting in firelight over her, not wavering from hers.

"Hello," she breathed in reply, clenching down around him, making him let out a strangled noise. He pulsed inside her in response, eyes hazy and lost, and she pulled him down for a kiss.

Haurchefant kissed her with a heady passion, tongue pressing deep into her mouth as his full length was seated inside her and making her ache. He was — gods, he was overwhelming, a raw emotion burning through her as she melted into him, kissing back with a whimper.

She brought a hand up to his ear and he shivered then spoke, voice low and raw. "May I?"

"Please," she begged, locking her ankles around him, and he began to move.

The Warrior of Light, with all her strength and will, could do nothing but throw her head back onto the pillows and whine at the sensation of Haurchefant slowly pumping back and forth inside her, his powerful thighs allowing his pace to be achingly measured, easing her in and accommodating her to the shock of his length.

"Look," Haurchefant urged, and she followed his gaze to where they were joined. He pulled out all the way, then slid back in slowly, and the sight of all of him disappearing inside of her made her roll her shoulders and groan. "Look how your body already takes me so well, as if it was made to be filled this deeply," he gasped, breath hitching as the tip of his cock gently kissed her cervix, making her moan softly. "And look at you," he continued breathlessly, continuing to tease her with slow, fluid, circular thrusts that made her arch up against him and clutch at his back, whining needily. "With all your boundless power, you are... naught but pliant and desperate in my arms. You needed this, didn't you?" He paused only long enough to take in a steadying breath. "...Needed me?" he asked hesitantly, hopefully.

Gods above, she did. After all she had been through, after all her sorrows and struggles, after constantly shouldering all the endless responsibilities of saving a world seemingly determined to shatter, to now be held tightly in the strong arms of her dearest friend, body weak with lust and emotion, aching and helpless at the overwhelming feel of him inside her, fully at his mercy —

"Yes," she answered fervently, tilting her hips weakly up against him as he entered her again, whining against his thrust. "I need you, Haurchefant. Need this. Need everything," she moaned as he pressed in harder this time, his face looking utterly desperate at her words. "I need you to fuck me until I can hardly remember my name," she blurted out, mind suddenly drunk with lust, "Until—until this is all I can remember—"

She watched as Haurchefant's pupils blew wide. He hissed out her name, then pressed in so hard she folded back underneath him, her legs sliding up around his waist, crying out at the pressure.

"I—I swear to you," he nigh-on growled, breath hot against her ear, "Even should all else fall to oblivion, you shall not forget this."

The Warrior of Light gasped beneath Haurchefant as he pulled out slowly, the curve of his nose brushing against hers, his eyes seeking her reaction. Then, with a powerful roll of his hips, he drove himself deep inside of her with a force that caused her to cry out in clear pleasure and cling to him, her strong arms pulling him in tightly, his lips at her throat.

Fury strike him down if he ever claimed that entering the Warrior of Light fully bareback was not the most exquisite pleasure he had ever known — her lithe, powerful body wrapped ever-so-tightly around his cock, a velvet, molten heat that gradually became more yielding with every thrust, drawing him in deeper and deeper. She clung to him like a lifeline as he plunged into her with abandon, watching her writhe and moan beneath him, making shameless, erotic sounds and faces that he would certainly not soon forget.

"Does it truly feel that good?" he asked, spearing his length into her to drag hard against her top walls at the "that" — eliciting an incoherent, enthusiastic whine, and a tightening of her grip around him that made him shudder and sink his teeth into her shoulder in a useless attempt to silence himself. He realized he needed to pace himself or she would wring him dry long before she was satisfied. "To—to have me inside you?" he continued, tilting up her chin for a kiss.

He ground slowly against her as they kissed, making short, intoxicating thrusts while buried decadently deep inside, and she whined against his tongue, then with a sudden regaining of strength began to circle her hips up into him, making him shudder and squeeze hard at her thigh and breast, groaning into her mouth.

"Yes," she cried as soon as he broke for air, arching up into his touch. "Fuck, yes, you—you feel so good," she gushed, and he gave her another long, torturous thrust, pressing in until he'd bottomed out, lips brushing each other as they gasped together. "You're so... so deep..." she whispered, face scarlet and vulnerable, pressing a curled finger against her lips to stifle a whine, clearly lost in the sensation of him and trying to savor it.

Seeing this, Haurchefant's chest ached with longing for her even as he was already buried as deep as he could go, and he gently tilted her startled face into another kiss, grinding tight, slow circles so deep inside her, kissing her with a flare of yearning, desirous affection. She melted into him, breathing stuttering breaths through her nose, matching the pace of his kiss. As her hands rose up the slope of his back to graze warm fingertips along the outline of his pointed ears, and a soft shiver ran down his spine, Haurchefant had the dawning realization that he'd never felt so truly intimate with anyone before, never had a lover bare themselves so completely, touch him so gently and earnestly even as they begged to be ravaged by him. Something in his heart clicked into place.

He—he cared a great deal for this woman. He would give her all she needed, all the shelter from the storm outside his body could offer her. And he, too, would let his aching heart take solace in her arms—

"You can have me this deep inside you anytime you like, my dear friend," he breathed, voice low and near breaking, his wondering eyes on hers. "There is truly no place I would rather be. Though I—I admit you feel so utterly exquisite around me that if I take you in earnest again I know not how much longer I can last—"

"Then give me all you can," she said, fingers weaving through his sweat-slicked hair, tucking a piece behind his ear, "and—and if it is not enough, give me more later—"

Later. His heart soared at this, a wave of earnest passion working through him once more. If this was not merely a fleeting indulgence... if this wasn't simply a momentary desire for him that the Warrior of Light needed to work out of her system, a surge of pent-up need... if she wanted him again, later...

Dare he hope...?

But of course he could do naught else but hope, with the woman who gave him hope above all else here in his embrace.

"Gladly," he murmured in her ear, thick and heady, before withdrawing from her with a slick, long slide and thrusting back in, pressing her down into the mattress.

The Warrior of Light, delirious with pleasure, could do nothing but cling tightly to her new lover and cry out, strangled moans escaping her lips that she hardly recognized as hers. Her hands thrown loosely around his neck, she could look down between them and see the coiled power of his flexing muscles as he rolled his hips into her, see him filling her again and again, drilling her down into his plush mattress. She felt the tremble in his thighs every time he hilted fully, saw his eyes roll back with sheer pleasure, heard him whimper as she hooked her legs even more tightly around him, drawing him closer.

Her own pleasure only built at seeing him quickly become so lost in her. He—he had done so much for her, had done nothing but pleased her, and the thought of seeing Haurchefant, the man who always seemed to put her first, finally reach his limits and come undone inside her... She whined, grinding up against him, pulling his panting face down for a messy, desperate kiss.

"I... I am close," He barely got out between labored breaths, pace faltering. "May I..."

"Yes," she breathed, locking her ankles behind him and canting her hips up to hasten his slowed thrusts. "C-come inside me. Don't stop—"

"Fury take me," he swore, then kissed her deep, her soft mouth eagerly moaning around his tongue as he began to pick up speed.

She could feel how close he was - he was so impossibly hard now, filling her more completely than she could remember ever having been filled, the drag of his cock against her walls and the snap of his hips hitting places within her she'd not realized she'd had. Her mind went blank, until there was nothing but Haurchefant carving himself deep into her, making her moan and tremble and dig her fingers into the thick muscle of his back even as he chased his own pleasure.

Stars, but she was close again too —

Wide azure eyes met her own before traveling down her body and taking in the full sight of her opened wide upon him, and suddenly his fingers were at her clit again as his thrusts became more erratic, and even his expertly circling fingertips against her began to tremble.

"Haurchefant," she cried as she came undone once more, waves of white hot pleasure surging through her as she pulsed tight around him.

Haurchefant let out her own name in a guttural groan, clenching her body tight to him as he made a few last staccato thrusts and came, spilling deep inside her, panting against her neck.

They laid there entwined for timeless moments, a mess of hot labored breaths and tangled limbs, his weight pressed comfortingly on top of her, until his gentle caress on her cheek made her eyelids flutter open.

He wore an expression so open, so adoring, that despite what they had just done she felt her cheeks color even further, breathing in the hints of a wonderful, terrifying joy.

In lieu of words she brought a hand to the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. His kiss was slow and gentle, filling her with an aching tenderness that she didn't expect. She nipped gently at his lip and deepened the kiss, eliciting a soft rumble and a hand threading up into her hair.

"What have I done for the gods to bless me in this way?" Haurchefant murmured, pressing a kiss to her brow.

"I can think of quite a few things," she replied, tilting her head up and luring him in for another small kiss, a soft, affectionate press of lips.

He hummed against her as her lips parted from his. "Perhaps you might tell me them sometime," he offered, deep blue eyes gleaming in the low light.

A smile crept across her face, and she let out a small laugh. Haurchefant was in many ways a very humble man, putting the safety and comfort of those he cared for above all else, but he was also truly so eager to receive her praise. It was, quite frankly, adorable to her.

"Perhaps I shall," she offered, brushing her foot against his calves, smiling fondly. "Mayhap over some more of your hot cocoa?"

There was something about lying entwined with Haurchefant like this, clearly feeling him still resting inside her after they'd both been spent, that made the Warrior of Light feel terribly exposed. But in his presence that felt good, like coming home after a long journey and shedding all her clothing and diving into a warm bath.

And he was... oh, he was so handsome, his features relaxed, his long hair a disastrous mess, his ears maybe a slight bit reddened in places from her earlier attentions.

The corners of his eyes crinkled up with his smile. "It's a date."

Oh. She... well, carried away in all her pent-up passion, she hadn't exactly stopped to think about what bedding Haurchefant would do for their relationship, besides making it desperately clear that she didn't want it to worsen. She hadn't really had any relationships, not the romantic kind anyway, and none of her sexual arrangements had ever been particularly long-lasting. Her life on the road hadn't lent itself to plans and promises. She knew he was likely just being playful with his phrasing, but...

What was she, to him? What was he to her?

As he brought his lips gently to her cheekbones, still unable to resist kissing her as long as she rested in his arms, he trailed soft, lazy kisses down the tender side of her neck that silenced her train of thought fairly abruptly. Clearly, whatever they were to each other, it was wonderful. Important.

She closed her eyes and relaxed into his kisses, hazy with bliss. Her hands caressed his neck and her nails gently stroked at his scalp, a finger daring to slowly trace the soft skin behind his ear, and he puffed a labored breath at her neck. She ever-so-lightly grazed the base of his earlobe as she went to cup his cheek again, and the slight stutter of his hips against hers stopped her dead in her tracks.

He was not yet flagging, as most men would be. The ilm or so he slid instead dragged torturously inside her, wracking her with unexpected sensation.

"...How are you still hard?" She gasped as he raised his startled head to face her.

He smiled appeasingly, yet his eyes glinted with mischief. "How could I not be, with you in my bed, touching me like this, still tightly wrapped around my cock?"

She flushed at this, breaking eye contact. "Honestly, Haurchefant," she stammered with a bashful smile, a little heat returning to her despite herself.

Haurchefant laughed softly, then kissed the corner of her mouth. "Worry not, my body is simply overeager to be at the ready to please. I would not give you more than you could handle."

She felt a flame of challenge spark to life inside her at his words. Gently he began to withdraw, but she placed her hands on his hips, stopping him. "Do you want more?"

His eyes widened like she'd never seen, before narrowing to a glimmering smolder, a flicker of firelight playing dangerously across them. She could feel him pulse inside her, growing harder still. "Do you want more?"

"I've slain gods. I can take quite a bit of punishment." She smiled devilishly, drawing him down for a kiss with only a teasing flick of tongue. He followed her every move nearly as if hypnotized. "I took my pleasure from you twice already, 'tis only fair."

"You could have taken your pleasure from me ten times over and sent me to bed alone with naught but a single touch and I would still be glad of it, sod fairness."

His tone was lighthearted but his gaze was dead serious, and she noticed his muscles had all gone tense, as if he was anticipating a cue. She felt a shiver of electricity down her spine, and despite some soreness at already having been so thoroughly fucked, a sudden hunger stirred within her. In the eyes of this selfless, generous man she saw an overwhelming, powerful need rise once more, barely restrained. She wanted to make that restraint break. She wanted to make him be selfish.

"And what if my desire is for this body you have so openly admired to make you come, again and again until you can no longer move a single muscle?"

Haurchefant near whimpered at this, eyes fluttering shut as he bit his lip, flushing all the way to his ears. Gods, it was a good look on him. "...Then I would have no choice but to feign illness tomorrow, and perhaps even for the next sennight, because I would have you just as sated and I fear fully wearing out the stamina of the Champion of Eorzea may take days," he laughed breathily, but his eyes ravenously raking over her torso set a tone that was anything but joking. "If in truth that is what you desire, you need but ask. I cannot think of aught I would desire more."

"Please, Haurchefant," she begged, digging her fingernails into his hips and bending a knee up towards herself, causing him to involuntarily slip further back into her with a sudden hissing intake of breath. "I want to see you take what you want from me."

It was as if a switch had flipped in him, all chivalry and pretense gone. The Elezen lifted her hips up into the air like she weighed nothing, spearing her onto him as he thrusted. She was left dangling helplessly and grasping at the sheets, head digging rhythmically into soft pillows. He shifted his grip, grabbing at her ass with his large hands and squeezing hard, somehow spreading her apart even further, and began to set a near punishing pace.

"You will be," he panted, driving himself deeper again and again, "the death of me," he groaned, sucking and biting at her chest and neck hard enough to be sure to leave marks, sending hot bolts of heat down to her overflowing core. She could feel his come leaking out of her as he ravaged her thoroughly, tearing moans of overwhelmed ecstasy from her throat that made him tremble against her. She writhed up into him eagerly, presenting him with more neck to claim, which he did, licking a stripe over her pounding pulse with a hot stuttering breath, causing her to shudder. "My dearest friend, the most powerful woman I have ever known, her beautiful chiseled warrior's body laid bare and undone and full of my come, yet still begging me for more? Avarice is a sin, my friend."

"Then smite me," she growled, somehow, with her incredible strength, managing to thrust back up at him despite the tight control he'd taken of her body.

Something primal in him ignited at this, and she found herself flipped over onto her knees and being sharply entered from behind. She let out a surprised yelp, which was quickly muffled by Haurchefant's tongue insistently demanding entrance to her mouth, his hand gently cradling her face in contrast to his rough thrusts. The sensation was overwhelming, the new angle making his cock hit her somehow even deeper than before, and even her well-earned battle stamina could not keep her from simply falling forward and letting him fuck her into the mattress again. He let go of her face to catch her by the shoulders as she fell, supporting her, leaving her wonderfully helpless in his arms. She sucked on his tongue and let his momentum rock her hips back and forth against him as he fucked her just roughly enough for the both of them, the extra slickness of his come inside her turning even this harried pace deliciously smooth.

"I have imagined this too, you know," he panted, breaking their kiss for air. "Imagined taking you like this, again and again. Here, on my bed," he confessed, lips ghosting over her ear. "Or over my desk, perhaps. Even in the streets of the Holy See," he continued, giving her earlobe a soft bite and a quick suck, sending shockwaves through her. "Indulgent fantasies, all. Would that I had known just how such daydreams pale in comparison to... to this."

Saying this, Haurchefant wrapped his scarred, muscular arms around her waist and chest, pulling her upright and flush against him and eliciting a soft gasp from her. He captured her lips in a gentle yet fiery kiss that made a tender warmth spread up her body, before pulling out and thrusting in again slow and deep, making them both shudder and moan into the kiss.

Gods be good, this man was a passionate whirlwind, fucking her with reckless abandon and saying the most openly brazen things one moment, then gently caressing her and savoring every ilm of her like a besotted lover the next. One hand wandered across her stomach, lovingly caressing her tight abdominal muscles, and another threaded up through her hair while he kissed her tenderly as if offering his goddess supplication. He thrust into her gently, dragging just the head in and out with a shudder before slowly pushing in as deep as he could and rutting back and forth. The pressure of him so incredibly deep inside her made her tremble and ache with a desperate yearning for him, body and soul. She opened her eyes to see him watching her as they kissed, intense and intimate. The feeling she felt at this she could not name, but with her heart pounding and every mote of her being singing the absolute rightness of being ravaged so tenderly, she could not tear her eyes from his. Her pleasure built and achingly built almost unbearably, but she dared not bring herself to climax again before he reached his own.

He broke the kiss to moan her name, eyes half lidded and lost in her, and she swelled with emotion, kissing him again as tenderly as he had, trying to show him how much she wanted him, how much she needed him.

"Twelve, you are incredible, Haurchefant," she breathed. "You feel incredible," she added, clenching down as hard around him as her weakened body could, just to feel him that much more.

Haurchefant sputtered out a moan at this, face flushed full red all the way to the tips of his ears. "Do I?" She nodded, her back arching against him, and he clutched at her desperately, begging. "Tell me more."

"You fuck me like you've known my body for years," she blurted out before she knew what she was saying, and he let out the most desperate moan she'd ever heard from a man, as if her words alone nearly made him come. It stopped any embarrassment she might have felt dead in its tracks. "It feels so good I could—could lose my mind. L-like all I could ever possibly want is you," she stuttered. He cried out in nearly a whimper, reaching around to pleasure her with his hand, his thrusts becoming more erratic.

"N-no, not yet," she all but moaned out, gently shooing his fingers away. "You have to come first, please, please," she pleaded with him.

Haurchefant hissed in a breath, nosing at the back of her neck. "Will you... come for me once more after I fill you again? Still full of my spend?"

"Yes," she swore earnestly, her legs growing even weaker at the thought of reaching her peak already filled with his pleasure.

"Fury," he moaned, then shifted his weight and pressed her down into the mattress below him, her head falling onto the pillows at the head of the bed. To his surprise, she rallied her meager remaining strength and bucked up underneath him, shaking him loose, before quickly lying back down on her back, knees splayed apart in invitation.

"I want to see you," she murmured almost shyly, "See the face you make."

"As you wish," he whispered back with a look of bewildered lustful delight, before tilting her hips up to enter her again. His eyes caught on her and his grip on her shook for a moment. "By the Fury, you are dripping with me," he groaned obscenely, sliding his cock up and down against her entrance, both of them reveling in the sheer sinfulness of her state, the decadent wetness and heat, for a few gasping moments, before thrusting in deep once more. He let her wrap her limbs around him and hold him close as he ground down into her wildly, quickly building up to the edge yet again.

"Yes, yes, you're doing so good," she moaned encouragingly, eyes trained on his, witnessing every bit of praise from her lips making him tremble. "Just like that—"

She watched as Haurchefant's eyebrows knitted upwards, and his eyelids fluttered shut as he jerked into her one last time. She could feel his orgasm course through his body, all of his muscles tensing in a stuttering wave. He groaned, a low and primal sound, and she felt him release into her, his hot come flooding her walls.

He fell and panted against her, forehead pressed to her shoulder as he slowly caught his breath, his broad chest rising and falling atop her. When he came to, she was gently stroking her fingers through his blue-gray hair, heedless of the fact it was now slick with sweat.

"My friend," he began then stopped for a moment, as if he perhaps was deciding what he should say. Then his mouth widened into the most self-satisfied smirk she had ever seen, even on his face, which was saying something. "You have a promise to keep."

It did not take much to bring her over the edge. Now soft and fully spent, he slid out of her, caressed her breasts and began kissing at her neck, then touched her swollen clit with his fingers, moving them in just the right way to create friction despite the absolute deluge of come she could feel starting to leak out of her. She was worn out enough by now that the sensation itself was nothing remarkable compared to the last two times, but the pure satisfaction of knowing her body overflowed with the evidence of his pleasure, and the expanding feeling of safety and affection she felt as he watched her with an expression of deeply satisfied admiration and awe, made her dive off the edge and fall straight into weightlessness and euphoria.

She floated in half-awake bliss until she became distantly aware of Haurchefant's weight leaving the bed. She took in a deep breath, blinking her eyes halfway open to see him slipping through a doorway, the sound of water immediately following. He returned with a warm damp washcloth in hand, holding it up sheepishly. "May I? I seem to have made quite the mess of you."

She nodded, blushing, and shivered as he gently wiped her clean, her mind and body still half melted into the sheets.

His careful task finished, Haurchefant fell into bed beside her with a deep sigh of satisfaction. She rolled over to face him and was met with a warm smile of utter adoration.

"Welcome back, dearest adventurer. How are you feeling? Did I overdo it?" He asked, his eyes narrowing slightly with genuine concern.

She shook her head, snuggling up to him and draping an arm over his warm chest. She could feel his heart beating, firm and steady under her palm, anchoring her. "No... I may not be able to walk tomorrow, but it's what I needed, I assure you," she laughed, and she felt his chest puff up underneath her with his returning smile. Freed from the all-encompassing heat of their passion, she finally noticed the wind now howling outside and softly rattling the nearby window frame. "Though I suppose I may have no particular need of my legs tomorrow anyway."

He smiled widely, in his tender way that made something vast and unknown stir in her chest. He snaked an arm around her waist, holding her, then dipped his long neck down to kiss her softly on the forehead, making her let out a gentle sigh. "I suppose not," he murmured. "But I am full glad to hear I was able to fill your need."

"And then some, I assure you," she said in a groaning sigh, winding her leg between his, eliciting a soft, pleased hum. "And you, Haurchefant?"

"I am fairly certain this is all merely a dream, and I dread waking from it." He teased, and laughed when she rolled her eyes at him. "That is to say, I feel absolutely splendid beyond description. Unfortunately for you, I fear you now may be hard pressed to part me from your side. I have half a mind to accompany you to Ishgard when your passage is granted, my duties be damned."

His face was passionate and sincere, his eyes searching hers for a hint of her reaction. The aching, tender feeling in her chest returned at this, her heart swelling.

However things had changed between them, it did not seem to be temporary. She did not simply want Haurchefant as another ardent but fleeting lover, she knew this; she wanted to have him continue to be a significant part of her life. He was, after all, her dearest friend, now only moreso that he had come to know her so intimately. And the way he spoke to her, the way he looked as if he longed for confirmation of her desire to keep him by her side, made her realize that he likely very much felt the same.

"I would like that very much," she said softly, meeting his gaze. He sighed blissfully in relief, entwining their fingers together.

"Then I shall see what I can do," he replied, tucking her head underneath his chin.

The thought of him accompanying her on her travels was incredibly heartening, if perhaps unrealistic. Still, his sincerity and relief was infectious, and he dared her to hope, as he always did. She smiled, lifting their joined hands and pressing a kiss to his knuckles, then up to his lips.

They kissed slowly, softly, delicately — their lips swollen, worn and tender, all need fulfilled for now. The Warrior of Light felt in the soft ache in her chest a deep sense of affection and safety, woven through them by their lips and the gentle way they held each other. She hoped and then believed, looking into his deeply expressive blue eyes, that he felt it too.

Holding her tired body close to his chest, he reached down and pulled the duvet over them both, cocooning them in a heavy, comforting bubble of warmth. They lay together, the Warrior sprawled across his chest, Haurchefant sleepily peppering her neck and shoulders with the occasional soft kiss, until she fell fast asleep in his arms, safe and warm despite the blizzard falling all around them.

Chapter Text

When he awoke to the pale glow of pre-dawn light through his bedroom curtains to find the Warrior of Light still sleeping in his arms, soft, naked and content, Haurchefant Greystone knew that he was doomed.

By the Fury, he was done for.

He was certainly no stranger to flings or attempts at romance. In his youth he had left behind a string of broken hearts, nearly all his own, and so he'd long striven to keep his admittedly effusive affections lighthearted. On a few occasions he had welcomed an attractive traveler to his camp to warm his bed for the night, and while most of those experiences had been pleasant, they were over quickly and nearly always left him feeling terribly lonely in the end.

But this. This was different. It was her.

The Champion of Eorzea. The Warrior of Light. Slayer of primals. She was hope incarnate, and the most incredible woman he'd ever laid eyes on, the most powerful warrior he'd ever faced in battle. The hero who'd saved his first true friend from certain death. And here she was, beautiful in the pale light of early morning, hair a wonderful mess, legs tangled in his.

And she had wanted him. Wanted his body and his touch, yes, which alone was wonderful enough; but more than anything it had seemed that she'd wanted him — his passion, his care, his pleasure. Fury, he had filled her again and again at her demand, and she had come apart dripping with him, seemingly heedless of what that meant, what seeing a woman overflowing with his come did to a man. When he'd stood to go wash up and had seen her lying there, melted with exhausted pleasure, half asleep and helpless on his bed, skin marked all over with his kisses and love bites, creamy white slick splattered on her thighs, dripping from her well-loved entrance and pooling below her... And she had wanted this, had come so easily at his fingertips while filled with him. Seeing her in such a state had had his poor heart feeling as if... well, as if she were his.

The longing, open look in her eyes when she had watched him lose himself inside her... The way he'd felt when they kissed slowly as he rocked deep inside her, like his chest ached so hard it could burst... Her passionate outbursts of praise that pierced to his very core, that made him feel like perhaps he could even be worthy of her...

And the way she'd held him tenderly after their passion had burnt to completion, looking at and touching him with a deep, vulnerable fondness that made his heart ache.

If this wasn't yet truly love that he felt, it soon would be. It certainly felt like love to him, a thought that both elated and genuinely terrified him. Halone preserve, he wanted to bury himself in her again right now, to whisper her awake with sweet nothings and kisses to every ilm of her body. He wanted to make love to her slowly and gently, to slot their fingers together, to welcome them both back down from their peak with a soft smile and a "good morning." He hadn't felt this beside himself with lustful affection in all his years.

Yet there had been some very good reasons that Haurchefant had not found lasting love in the past twenty-eight winters of his life. It certainly was not for lack of wanting such; all of his dearest, most closely-held dreams involved sharing his life, his home and his bed with someone he truly loved, who truly loved him in turn. It was not simply the ever-looming danger and duty of the Dragonsong War, either; although once seeing someone he'd shared a genuine, flirtatious moment with carried home to their family in a shroud the next week certainly had put a fear in him.

No, it was the confining circumstance of being a Greystone that had most tied his hands. Not that being a noble bastard necessarily prevented him from pursuing whoever he'd liked — but there was difficulty finding a true connection with someone else in Ishgard. His strange status as a bastard who was allowed to represent his house in some capacity and given many of the responsibilities of a trueborn made things even more complicated. His pursuits of other nobles had been indulged on occasion, but he was then summarily discarded as not a truly worthy option for anything more than a tryst. The nobility loved its gossip, and even most lowborn Ishgardians were not quick to consort with him intimately in any kind of serious manner for fear of gaining a reputation. That left mainly outsiders, who, by the ever-present curse of Ishgard's firmly closed gates, never stuck around for very long.

He was certainly well-liked, and beloved and respected by those who served under his command at Camp Dragonhead. Occasionally he had also been rather well-fucked. But he had never felt truly well-loved.

But this incredible woman here in his arms, sleeping peacefully as he gently carded his fingers through her hair, had granted him a depth of affection he'd never quite felt before. He knew her position in Ishgard would be very precarious, even were he to get the Count to agree to his plans and take her in — and he certainly did not want an association with him to hold her back from taking her rightful place in society as an honored hero, and using all the leverage at her disposal to recover her lost allies.

And yet, despite all his fears for the future, he could not help but sigh longingly and stroke a hand down her warm back, taking joy in feeling her presence, so close and unguarded in his arms. If... if somehow she continued to want him around and he made their passion last... if he could accompany her to Ishgard, if only for a while…

When she slowly roused from a blissful dreamless sleep to large hands gently stroking her hair and softly caressing her back, the Warrior of Light at first thought she must now be dreaming. She fluttered her eyes open to find her cheek pressed to a broad, muscular chest; drew in a breath to detect the mingling scents of sweat, sex, woodsmoke and chocolate, and froze in a moment of panic, her heart racing. How had she gotten here? Her eyes wandered to a newly familiar scar along the chest beneath her and it all came flooding back to her.

She'd slept with Haurchefant. And not simply slept with, but... a giddy, aroused, slightly terrified feeling bubbled up in her chest as she recalled it, and she became suddenly aware of how much her body keenly ached. Haurchefant had, true to his word, fucked her until she could hardly remember anything else. He'd held her gently, tenderly, their wondering eyes upon each other as he reached so deep inside her, had told her that there was nowhere else he'd rather be. That she could have him like this any time she liked.

It had been impossible not to long for his pleasure then, not to need to see him lose himself inside her again and again, not to feel so utterly satisfied at the sensation of being filled up with his come, as he watched her reach her peak with debaucherous, adoring eyes.

But it was impossible, too, not to immediately turn fully scarlet upon waking and remembering what she had done. She had... well, she wasn't exactly a blushing maiden, but she'd never been anywhere near so excruciatingly intimate with any of her past lovers. Nor had she let them come inside her without any physical barriers, even after she'd had the proper spells weaved upon her to remove most of the risks. Yet her desire and longing for Haurchefant had burnt hotter than any other, and had been built on a solid foundation of friendship and deep trust. She'd wanted to grant him this, wanted to feel him as intimately as possible. And it had been wonderful, the most sexually and emotionally satisfied she had ever felt in her life. She'd never felt so seen, so held, so cared for as she did in his arms.

And this was somehow only the first time they'd lain together? She reeled at the intensity, at the pounding, exhilarating feeling in her breast. What this meant for their relationship from here on out had yet to be seen, but if things continued, then...

She felt Haurchefant's chest underneath her expand in a deep breath, and his hand slipped under her chin, tilting her face gently up to greet him. He wore nothing but a deeply affectionate, satisfied smile that sent a curl of warmth through her all the way down to her toes. "Good morning, my friend," he murmured, then captured her lips in a soft, lazy kiss that had her melting against him, chest aching with satisfaction.

The Warrior breathed a deep, contented sigh, taking him in. Haurchefant was of course still fully naked beneath her, hair gloriously disheveled in a way that felt terribly intimate to see. His eyes roamed her face as hers roamed his, brilliant blue in the pale dawn light. There were, she realized, quite a few reddened marks left on his neck and ears, all her doing. This feeling in her chest compelling her forward, she tilted his head and gently kissed a particularly dark spot she'd left on his earlobe, hearing his breathing shudder as she did.

"Good morning," she replied with a sweet, innocent smile, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his pointed ear. He looked at her, bewildered, and then let out a huff of a laugh, grinning. She smiled widely, rolling off of him to curl up beside him, very aware of both the ache in her core and the sensation of their skin unsticking itself from each other as she did. Haurchefant rolled onto his side to face her, touching a hand to the small of her back, their legs sliding against each other. She placed her hands at his chest, and she found with a wondering delight that she could feel his heart beat softly against them.

The way he looked at her, the way her heart felt, the comfort of waking to this new, exciting intimacy... it felt a bit silly, being simply greeted as 'friend.' Though from his gracious lips it had always felt like an endearment, and she knew not what else to call them.

"I take it by your devilish way of greeting me that you are feeling rather well?" he asked, gently stroking her cheek. She flushed, nodding.

"Aside from feeling quite sore and tender, yes," she admitted, feeling a faint spark flicker to life at his inhale and eyes-glimmering smirk. "I'm afraid morning training may be off the table today."

"'Tis just as well," he said, gently brushing his handsome nose against hers. "If you would stay the morning in my chambers, I know of other ways to bring a splendid start to your day," he offered, voice mischievous but eyes sincere, seeking her approval. As if she wanted to be anywhere else.

"I would like that," she replied. "Though it seems to be off to a splendid start already, from where I am looking."

"Mmm," Haurchefant hummed, eyes closing, the corners of his mouth curling upward almost shyly. She could feel his heartbeat speed up underneath her palms. "That it is."

She leaned forward and met him with a kiss, feeling his lashes flutter open and then shut against her cheeks. He drew his arms more tightly around her, legs entwining further with hers. He pressed his tongue into her, kissing slow and deep, and despite being a spent, sore, disheveled mess, she felt a wave of heat rise in her belly. She laced fingers up into his hair, curling her tongue against his, sighing softly with pleasure. By the time she reluctantly broke the kiss to let them both breathe, she was lightheaded and more than a bit weak in the knees.

"Haurchefant, I'm a mess," she said coyly, face flushed.

"I know," he replied in a low voice that sent a shiver down her spine. "Would you like to be even more of one? Or I can draw you a bath," he added pleasantly, tracing a thumb over her cheek.

This man. She was so very sore, and her thighs felt sticky despite recalling how Haurchefant had carefully wiped her clean before sleeping. And yet, his kiss, the way his eyes gleamed with hungry yet gentle desire, the delicate touch of his fingers against her face...

She leaned into his palm, covering his hand with her own, speaking slyly. "Is your bath big enough for the both of us?"

He breathed in a sudden breath. "It is," he answered, voice full of delighted surprise. "I would be most pleased to attend you and soothe your aches," he added in a murmur, nosing softly at her ear, making her shudder against him. "I shall do my utmost to take responsibility for the state I've left you in."

His words were hot on her ear, and left her feeling more than a bit dizzy. What had she gotten herself into? Certainly she'd imagined the man to be an intense, passionate lover, as he was in everything else, but... First thing in the morning, after a night like that? When she was still like this? She'd never woken up so quickly in her life, at least not to anything pleasant. Still, it both excited her and shook her to her core — he did say he would soothe her, but part of her definitely worried she would come out of this aching even more if she agreed. Though, the storm still howled outside Haurchefant's bedroom window, and it was yet quite early...

"Please do," she replied, lips lightly touching his own ear. She could feel him smile against the side of her face, his cheek brushing hers.

"In that case," he began, drawing back to meet her eyes once more. "Loath as I am to leave your warm embrace, I shall return with much haste." He ran his hand over the top of her breast, then followed over her waist down to her hip underneath the warm covers, his touch gentle and lingering, as if trying to memorize what he was returning to.

She pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and his lashes fluttered shut, smile widening, a pink flush spreading across his elegant cheeks. The expression delighted her to see. "Do you wish me to go draw you a bath or not?" he laughed, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Is yes to both an acceptable answer?" she replied, finding her own cheeks feeling a bit hot, unable to repress a smile of her own. "Just a few moments longer," she spoke softly.

Haurchefant's expression melted into a soft longing, and soon his lips were on hers again, kissing her with a slow, fervent sincerity that made her limbs tingle and her chest ache. His tongue lightly flicked into her mouth in delicate, languorous touches, his hand carding up into her hair and gently holding her close. She responded in kind, stroking her hand up his neck and cupping his head and ear, thumb running lightly over the metal clasps he wore there.

When they broke the kiss, she found herself so swept up in some tremendous emotion that she was lost for words, and just stared at him, watching him stare back, looking just as wonder-struck as she felt.

Was Tataru perhaps right? Was she falling for him?

She... she didn't know, she hadn't ever put those words to an emotion she'd felt before. But... but if she was... and if he looked at her like that, seemingly reflecting back her own feelings, then...

"I will be right back," he said, seeming uncharacteristically bashful, and slipped out of the covers to cross the room.

The Warrior of Light laid under Haurchefant's heavy duvet, her limbs drawn into the warm spot he had left in the bed, breathing in the scent of him in the air and on his pillows, and felt very much like her heart might burst.

Haurchefant closed the door behind him in his bathroom and let out a shuddering exhale, a hand at his chest.

Yes, I am doomed, aren't I? He thought to himself with a smile, running a hand through his messy hair. He was most definitely, absolutely falling in love with the Warrior of Light. It felt... well, perhaps it was a bit cliché to give his heart to a woman he'd just bedded, but it felt inevitable. After all, it was her. Much of his heart had been hers all along.

He did not know exactly how she felt about him, but... by the way she returned his kiss, slow and delicate, aching emotion soaring through him from her lips, soft hands thumbing the clasps on his ears in gentle circles... By the way she very much seemed to want to keep him close beside her as long as possible, soaking in every touch he gave her, soft and yielding, he... Well, it was only out of a need to calm his racing heart that he had found it in himself to leave the room and set himself to work drawing a bath for her.

He turned the faucets on in his large tub, and it began to slowly fill with steaming water, heated by the ever-tended furnaces at the heart of the barracks that provided his knights with hot, relaxing showers to save time and keep morale high. The bath itself was quite large and luxurious, constructed in the fashion of a traditional alpine open-air bath, low to the ground, deeply inset, and with a comfortable lip around it to sit upon. It was roomy enough for two adult Elezen to enjoy together — a boon granted him due to previous commanders having often brought their families here to live with them. Directly next to the bath was an open shower for cleansing oneself before entering that drained into the tiled floor. On the opposite wall from the bath was a sink and full-length mirror, and as he tended to the bath and tried to gather his thoughts, he happened to catch his own reflection.

He was clearly disheveled, hair in incredible disarray. His body, rather sore itself from the last night's celebrations, looked to be no worse for the wear, aside from perhaps being a bit sticky. But his neck and ears were peppered in red and purple marks, left in a way that brought the memories of receiving them to the forefront of his mind. He brought a hand to his neck and found the skin there felt tender, tattooed with her desire.

The mere thought made his body ache, let alone seeing himself like this. It was almost as if she'd claimed him, had marked him as her own. Would she? he wondered, breathless. He had given her opportunity to leave, and she'd chosen to stay — chosen to be here with him, to bring him into the bath with her, a prospect that both lustfully thrilled him and made him wonder at the prospect of such a kind of intimacy. To gently care for her, to see her body relaxing beside his in this well-lit room, to clean up the absolute mess he'd made of her...

It was all so much, so many competing feelings within him vying for his attention. He turned away from his reflection in the mirror and took a deep breath, steadying himself. What was most important here and now was ensuring her ease and comfort. He reached into a nearby cupboard and got out a small vial of soothing oils he'd received in trade with Gridanian merchants, adding them to the running bath water. A faint scent of chamomile and lavender began to bloom, not too strong, just enough to help soothe and soften tender skin. He got out his softest, most luxurious bath towels, and prepared an array of his favorite soaps. His taste was... humble and rustic, compared to those who lived at his family home in Ishgard, but he hoped a road-weary traveler such as herself would appreciate the choice.

He found his own body rather chilled and yearning to enter the steaming tub by the time it had filled. He turned the tap off, and, heart still swirling with complicated affections for her, went to retrieve the Warrior of Light.

Chapter Text

When Haurchefant returned to his bedchamber, the Warrior of Light was laying on his pillow with the duvet pulled up to her nose. Her eyes opened wide at the sound of his arrival, and she slid up against the pillows to greet him with a smile, blankets falling to her shoulders. Her eyes then traveled downward, taking in his full body, and he suddenly became very aware that he was still fully nude in front of her, though his morning arousal had dissipated as he tended to his tasks.

"Ah... yes, I suppose I am a bit underdressed," Haurchefant conceded, feeling a bit pink at the cheeks.

The Warrior shook her head, rather pink herself. "For a bath? Certainly not," she teased, then added more softly, "Besides, you are quite nice to look at. I would not dare complain."

Haurchefant's chest puffed up a bit at her words, and she shifted closer as he approached the bed. She pulled back the covers, exposing herself as she began to attempt to rise to join him.

"You are quite the vision yourself," he answered lowly, throat going dry, his eyes following the loveliness of her curves in the soft light and the shape of her muscles as she pushed herself to her feet. She winced and he immediately brought a hand to her waist, steadying her. "Are you alright?"

She nodded, biting her lip with discomfort, bracing herself on his arm. "Yes, I think so — just simply rather sore," she admitted, looking up at him sheepishly.

"Then... if you would allow me," he said graciously, then hooked his other arm behind her knees, hoisting the Warrior of Light up into his arms. She was rather heavier than her slight form would have indicated, owing to the dense muscle he felt underneath her soft skin, but he had no trouble at all holding her, thanks to his training and larger frame. She flushed, instinctively securing herself in his grasp with her arms around his neck and shoulders.

"H-Haurchefant," she stammered, meeting his eyes with delighted amusement, face flushed. "I'm blushing."

"Do not fret," he replied, chin high, carrying her off towards the baths. "I will tell none the Hero of Eorzea received such treatment."

"You'd better not," she laughed, and, giddy and laughing too, he brought her into the steaming heat of the bathing room, closing the door behind them.

"Oh," she gasped, looking around the room from her vantage point in his arms. "This is... very nice," she admired, with a tone of longing. "You bathe like this every day?"

"Oh, no, not at all, that would be an excessive use of resources," he dismissed. "Only on days when I particularly need it. ...I suppose that has included many recent days, thanks to how hard you've worked me in our training lately."

"Mm, no wonder you always seem in such good form," she observed, looking up at him with a small, admiring, possibly slightly jealous smirk.

He sat her down carefully on a bathing stool he'd set beneath the showerhead. It was sized for an Elezen, and while Haurchefant had found himself squatting with legs apart whenever he’d used it, she instead braced herself gingerly with her palms against its wooden surface and found a comfortable sitting position, her thighs pressed together and her legs out in front of her. In the brighter overhead light of his wetroom her nude form was beautiful in a whole new way, the slight flush at her cheeks and lips more apparent, the dark smudges on her skin where his lips and tongue had marked her more obvious, the light glimmering on the edges of faded, silvered battle scars, well-healed by magic but still littering her body much as his own darker scars did his. As a knight and an Ishgardian, such scars were a sign of honor, a thing of beauty, a point of pride. For a moment he simply took her in, eyes wandering across her, his task forgotten.

She smiled nearly shyly up at him, cheeks growing a darker pink. “Shouldn’t we bathe?”

He started, snapping out of his reverie. “Ah— yes, of course. Forgive me, I am simply unaccustomed... In this light, you are… absolutely radiant,” he said, watching as her lips parted softly before she looked down, smiling bashfully. “‘Tis a touch distracting.”

“Haurchefant, you flatterer,” she said, rolling her eyes playfully, but flushed and clearly pleased by his praise.

“I do nothing of the sort,” he assured her, tone steady and serious. He heard her inhale as he turned to grab the tray of soaps he’d prepared for her off the edge of the bath. When he returned, he knelt to face her, tray in hand. She met his gaze with open, thoughtful eyes. “I am morally opposed to empty words of praise. I mean every word that I say. You are incredibly beautiful. I am still uncertain how I got you here, in such a state,” he admitted, eyes catching on the deep red marks at her throat. She swallowed, the dark hues shifting.

“...Haurchefant,” she said again, tone softer this time, sincere. “I know well that you are a truly honest man, and I admire you for it.” His heart ached at this, looking at her with wide, open eyes. “You can stare all you'd like,” she continued, stroking splayed fingertips lightly up her stomach, and around the soft curve of her breast. His eyes could not help but follow, his mind thrilled at her alluring display of confidence right after looking so bashful. “But make no mistake, I am not here due to luck or circumstance. You are… a dear friend,” she said softly, “and I would not have had another.”

He hadn't realized he'd momentarily forgotten to breathe until he tried to speak and found himself gasping in a shaky breath, his heart seemingly rising in his chest. “I… it—it gladdens my heart to hear you say this, more than I can say,” he replied, smiling broadly. Halone, but I am lost, he thought to himself, following her with his eyes as she reached out to gently touch his cheek, then bent in and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. He kissed her back lightly, reveling in the feeling of her soft lips on his, sweet and affectionate and not pressing for more.

He hummed a sigh through his lips as they parted, meeting her with a face he was certain was purely lovestruck. She smiled broadly, eyes cast downward, wonderfully charming, he thought longingly, before remembering there was in fact a task at hand.

“I… I have soaps,” he said, proffering the tray in his hand. “In different scents and types. Pray choose your favorite,” he encouraged. 

She nodded, picking up each bar and smelling them, then finally selected a gentle one made with oats and scented like honey. Haurchefant drew in a breath, then smiled.

"That is my favorite as well," he remarked, pleasantly surprised.

“Then we can share it,” she offered, and he nodded. The thought of her even smelling like him… it sent a shiver of excitement and a complicated emotion through him, that had Haurchefant meeting her with a small, aroused smile. He set the tray aside and placed a hand over hers, around the bar of soap she held. 

"You may wash yourself of course, if you like. But I did say I would take responsibility for the mess I've made of you," he said, dragging his thumb slowly across her fingertips.

She breathed in, her posture stiffening, then relaxed somewhat and nodded. 

"You did," she agreed, handing him the bar of soap, and his face felt hot. 

Haurchefant turned the tap and heated water began to flow from the showerhead. He was careful to point the spray to the side of her, where it would not hit her prematurely. He stroked a hand through her hair, looking down at her with an admiring smile, then gently touched her forehead. "You may want to close your eyes for this first part," he prompted, and she acquiesced, tilting her head back into his touch.

On his knees behind her, he began by rinsing her hair, working out any snags in her silky strands with deft fingers, his fingernails gently massaging her scalp as he went. Her eyelids fluttered as he continued his work, clearly enjoying the warmth and sensation, leaning in to his touch. He retrieved a nearby bottle of shampoo and carefully worked it into a lather, fingers kneading at her scalp in an effort to provide comfort. The light scent of sweet lemons filled the air. He was rewarded with a hum of pleasure, which he savored. It was such an utter privilege to be close to her like this, to care for her in this way. The way she relaxed fully into his touch had his heart aching with gratitude.

“Mmm, you are spoiling me,” she breathed as he rinsed her hair, still caressing her scalp with the same thorough care, making sure all the soap washed out.

“As a knight, I live to serve,” he purred, and the way her lips softly opened with a hint of want at this did not escape him. 

He tilted the hot stream of water so that it gently ran down from the top of her head to cover her face, then worked a gentle facial wash into her skin with careful thumbs, feeling the slick contours of her visage. He worked it into her chin, her neck, the soft and firm contours of her ears – he felt her shiver at that, and a smirk she could not see spread across his face. He gently rinsed her face, then used his thumbs to wipe excess water away, and as she brought her own hands to her eyes to finish the job he mouthed lightly along her earlobe, nose nudging against her cheek, making her shiver again.

“H-Haurche—”

“My apologies,” he murmured directly into her ear, his breath hot; then he met the Warrior of Light with the most innocent smile he could muster as she turned her head to face him, flushed and flustered. 

“You aren't sorry at all,” she said flatly, a small smile betraying her amusement.

“You can prove nothing,” he retorted with a glimmer in his eyes, which widened suddenly as she drew him down and kissed him, her lips soft and clean and hot on his. He gasped, and she took the opportunity to slip her tongue past his defenses, sliding it slowly against the inside of his lower lip, then giving his lip a soft nibble. His heart beat faster at this, sparks shooting down his spine, returning her kiss with a tender, aching passion, his hand at the side of her neck. The mist from the shower sprayed around them, tickling his skin. She brought a hand up his neck, then traced up the side of his earlobe, making him hiss in a breath as she broke the kiss, eyes lidded and face smug.

“Payback,” she said simply, trailing her fingers off his chin and returning them to her lap.

“You devil,” he grinned, pulse still racing, delighted despite the heat she'd built in him currently going nowhere. “My father warned me about women like you.”

“Did he?” she laughed, as he took her arm into his and began to scrub it down with soap, the sweet familiar scent of oats and honey beginning to fill the air. He worked the lather delicately into her palm and fingers, up her arm, and around the side of her neck, careful not to press too hard at the many marks he'd left her. “I'm pleased I seem to have some skill as a temptress then — I don't make a habit of it.”

“Ah, yes that's right,” he said, gently massaging the suds into her neck and shoulders before trailing down her other arm, eliciting a sigh of relaxation. “You said it had been some time…?”

She nodded, leaning into his touch. “Mm, yes… since before joining the Scions, in fact,” she confessed, and he started, incredulous. She had, to his knowledge, been working with the Scions for many moons — had not a soul in Eorzea tended to her pleasure, not even as she brought unity to their three nations? 

“So long?” he asked with a tone of concern, working the soapy lather down her bare back as she bent forward. “Surely the Warrior of Light has no shortage of admirers?” 

“The Warrior of Light tends to have more pressing concerns,” she replied with a bit of a wry laugh, then groaned as he kneaded at a knot along her spine, her tight muscles moving and loosening under his touch.

“Duty and obligation, I know very well,” he conceded, slowly lathering up her sides, feeling her body respond to his touch. “Yet imagining you carry such tremendous burdens and fulfill such weighty hopes with naught but your own efforts to bring you release or comfort… it pains me,” he said sincerely, standing only to walk around and kneel before her. She seemed to be considering his words, meeting him with an open regard.

He lathered up one of her feet, gently massaging the soap between her toes, and she braced herself on her palms with a sigh. He brought a soft brush to her foot, scrubbing at the thicker skin in a way that he found immensely relieving, and he was pleased to find that it clearly brought her relaxation as well, heavy breaths of satisfaction escaping her lips.

“I didn't know who I could trust,” she sighed as he began to massage more suds up her tightly muscled calf, expert thumbs urging her stiff tendons to relax. “Gods, you are good at this.”

“I'm pleased to hear this, as I do not make a habit of bathing travelers,” Haurchefant replied, meeting her eyes to find they both shared a look of conspiratorial mirth. He worked his hands up to her knee, then moved along to her other foot, giving it the same treatment as the first, watching her toes curl. “I am… even more pleased that you decided I was worthy of your trust.”

“How—” the Warrior of Light sighed as he untangled a hard knot in her calf, the aching muscle releasing. “How could I not? You trusted me so readily, from the very first.”

He smiled, reaching up to her knee, working his thumbs in gentle circles around her kneecap. “Mayhap the best my instinct has ever served me,” he answered, looking up at her, admiring. He lathered more soap into his palms, rising.

“If I may,” he asked with an incline of his head. She nodded, and he brought his soapy hands to her chest, gently cupping her breasts with both of his hands. She puffed her chest into his touch, watching him as he swept his hands over and between them, her pert nipples teasing at the palms of his hands.

He groaned, biting his lip, struggling to keep his wandering hands comforting and some distant semblance of chaste. He immediately failed, flicking a thumb over her nipple, swirling it around the hard nub, slick with soap.

She made a soft moan then that sent heat straight to his loins, his eyes squeezing shut.

“Fury,” he cursed, unable to meet her flushed face in the eye, for fear of derailing their bathing. “We should… we should get you rinsed.”

“I would say you are forgetting somewhere rather important,” she answered in a somewhat husky voice that set him on edge.

“Not… not forgetting, heavens forfend,” he insisted, fully serious. “Let us first get this soap off of you, and then...”

She nodded, and with one last drag of his palms down her stomach — a path he was sorely inclined to continue further — he all but tore himself from her bare, soapy skin and aimed the showerhead back down on them. It hit him too as he returned to make sure it rinsed her skin clean of suds, his hands gently caressing her whole body and ensuring all the bubbles she'd been covered in began to circle the drain.

He could tell she was breathing a little hard now, as was he. Her pulse beat fast; he could feel it as his hands stroked gently around her throat, brushing loose some foam lodged in her collarbone. She leaned into his touch, exposing more of her neck where he'd marked her the night before, and it was all he could do to restrain himself from climbing atop her and adding more marks to her collection. Instead somehow he finished the job, letting the water rinse her fully clean — that is, save for one particular part.

He rose to aim the water away. When he turned to face her, dripping wet, hair plastered to his neck, he was fully aware he was already half-hard. Her eyes, instantly drawn between his legs, her lips parted, only strengthened this awareness even further. He felt no shame at his state, only a satisfying thrill at it being observed.

She met him with a hazy, desirous smile, then spread her legs apart beneath him. "Pray finish cleaning up the mess you've made," she said, running her index finger lightly up the top edge of his ear all the way to its tip, making him shudder.

He bit his lip and nodded, heart pounding. "I shall," he replied, his eyes meeting hers with a searing heat.

He knelt before her, his face coming level with her beautiful, flushed cunt. He could tell she was aroused simply by looking at her, seeing how swollen she was, how tightly her folds pressed together, how the stiff pink nub of her clit poked out invitingly.

But he knew he had filled her with much more than he'd cleaned off of her the previous night. Slowly, almost reverently, he brought two of his fingers to her, hugging the sides of her clit just to watch her writhe above him before gently pressing apart the seam of her inner lips.

She was wet, hot and slick enough to make him shiver as he drew his fingers down, spreading her all the way to her entrance. As he did, a trickle of white spend, his spend, left her body, dripping down to the wet tile below. An incredible, primal satisfaction filled him upon seeing this, his mind reeling, his body aching for her.

She watched him witness this with a face flushed scarlet, clutching a hand to her chest.

"Fury, look at you," he breathed, heart in his throat. "Still dripping with me, even now," he marveled, circling a finger gently around her reddened entrance, making her squirm and coaxing any of his remaining release out of her. "What did you let me do to you?" he asked, incredulous, suddenly overwhelmed with desire.

"H-Haurchefant," she nearly moaned, bracing herself against the arms of the chair. "It just... it felt so good, having you come apart inside me," she admitted, biting her lip. He felt his cock twitch as it hardened further, his grip on her thigh tightening as he braced himself.

He swore and hissed in a breath. "I would do it again now, would you not come to harm," he stated plainly. "Would... would that your body becomes accustomed to me quickly, so I could grant such for you whenever you like." She nodded emphatically, looking desperate, and he ached at how quickly she agreed to such a brazen statement, as if yes, of course she wanted him to fill her again, on as many occasions as possible. He lathered and rinsed off his hand in the hot jet of water before returning to his knees, removing the corded showerhead from its hook and taking it in hand. 

"But for now, I shall take responsibility for what you have suffered at my hands," he said, pressing a kiss to her thigh, causing her chest to heave a breath. "I will cleanse you, and do my best to soothe your every ache."

The Warrior of Light felt herself tremble as Haurchefant stared up at her, kneeling between her spread legs. His cock bobbed in his lap, fully hard now and glistening at its tip, but he made no move to touch it or bring it to her. Instead, fully focused on her, dedicated to his task, he brought the jet of water near her entrance and delicately rinsed their mess away. He stroked her there lightly with his fingers, gently massaging the parts of her that most clearly ached with a soothing touch, careful not to run the full force of the water directly over her tender skin, making sure he did a thorough and careful job.

The pressure of the water against her made her squirm — it did not touch her most sensitive spots directly, but it seemed to make her extremely aware of every nerve ending it touched, at her inner thighs and outer lips. His eyes stayed on her, awed and admiring, his lips occasionally pressing light kisses to the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. His fingers at the outer edge of her entrance, gentle and appeasing and not at all preparatory, made her feel a sense of safety and relaxation, despite how utterly arousing all of this felt. Her heart ached at the sheer exposure and intimacy, her face hot, and she could feel herself getting wetter, his fingers massaging her own arousal into her sore entrance like a luxurious soothing oil. By the time he withdrew his touch and held the showerhead down at his side, she ached for reasons that had nothing to do with what they'd done the night before.

"Was I able to offer you some comfort?" he asked, looking up at her with soft affection, even as the both of them were still very clearly aroused. She nodded, then went to rise, finding her feet rather easily. She still felt a dull ache deep inside her upon standing, her body simply needing time to recover from being stretched to accommodate him, but whatever magic he'd worked with his fingers had eased her discomfort significantly.

"...You were," she said with a smile, watching him as he rose. “I can… I can still feel you, an ache deep inside me,” she added, hearing him draw in an uneven breath, seeing him watch her with half-lidded eyes. “But the sting I'd felt… it is gone.”

“That is… Fury,” he swore, clenching a fist at his side. “That is a great relief. And yet, oh Halone, I—”

As a knight, I live to serve, she suddenly remembered him saying, and a warm chill ran down her spine, recalling with a flash of heat how he'd responded to her praise last night, his flushed face at her cunt.

“You've done so well, Haurchefant,” she said, running a hand up his damp arm. His eyes flicked onto hers, widening slightly. “You've taken responsibility for your actions… brought me so much comfort…” Her hand curved up over his sculpted bicep and onto his shoulder, and she trailed the backs of her fingers slowly up the side of his long neck. Haurchefant's eyes were very wide now, watching her intently, breath shuddering at her touch. “Can you not endure just a bit more? I don't want such an exquisite bath to go to waste,” she implored softly, affecting a tone of innocence. Internally she felt absolutely thrilled, wielding this kind of apparent power over him, one which he clearly thoroughly enjoyed her exercising.

He bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut, looking pained. “Yes… yes, you are right,” he replied, opening his eyes to look at her, bewildered but resolute. “‘Tis your turn to help cleanse me, if you wish,” he offered, gesturing to the bar of soap he'd left on the rim of the nearby tub. She could feel his pulse pounding underneath the backs of her fingers. 

She left him momentarily to grab the bar of soap, turning back to find him already standing under the stream of water, the clasps he wore at his ears removed, looking breathless, eyes following her as he shampooed his own hair. He was… Twelve he was nothing but attractive in every way, water streaming down the fine contours of his gorgeous, muscled torso, his nude body decorated in scars that told a story of the kind of man he was, dedicated to putting himself in harm's way to ensure others’ safety, without even the use of healing magicks to lean on. And amidst a thicket of soft wet hairs his hard length rose, thick and long and curved towards himself at the tip, dripping with what she assumed was not only the shower's water. 

"Gods, Haurchefant," she cursed, stepping closer. "'Tis a crime to hide that body underneath all that armor."

"The feeling is rather mutual, my friend," he answered, his eyes still on her even as he rinsed the lather from his hair.

She brought the bar of soap to his chest, using her free hand to spread the lather across him, feeling his muscles contract with labored breaths as she dragged her palms down his abs and towards his stomach.

“I cannot believe you fit all of that inside me,” she found herself voicing as her eyes met his beautiful cock once more, and he drew in a hissing breath.

“You took it so well,” he all but gushed, his face desperate with barely restrained desire for her. “I am—I am rather large even for an Elezen, I am told,” he said, with a sense of humility that exposed it as truth rather than simply overconfident bragging. “And you—you are rather smaller than I, and… and the sight of it…”

Haurchefant gasped as the Warrior of Light brought a soapy hand down to skirt its way around his length and down further towards his balls, gently working the lather through his soft hairs, then moving up to cup them, feeling the delicate weight of them in her hands.

He whined out her name at this, looking down at her in desperation. “Oh… oh gods, how am I to endure if you touch me like this?”

“I did,” she said simply, softly kissing the palm of the hand he'd outstretched as if considering whether or not to stop her. He made a soft needy sound that sent heat down between her legs, but she kept her motions gentle and cleansing. He watched, allowing her to continue as she lathered her way up around the base of his cock, making sure the thick hairs there were saturated with soap. 

She met his eyes with what she'd meant to be a gentle smile but came out as rather more lustful, before gently stroking up the length of him with one soapy hand, absolutely marveling at the sheer girth of what she held. No wonder I still feel it, she thought, awed. 

He moaned outright at this, shoving a knuckle of a fisted hand against his mouth to stifle the sound. It was horribly tempting to simply rinse him and put her mouth on him, to see what other sounds she could coax out of him. But he was not yet fully clean, and they had such a lovely bath awaiting them—

She let go, using all her willpower, stumbling back almost like she'd been burned. A fire indeed flared bright in her belly, and she frantically endeavored to contain it.

“Please—please cleanse yourself,” she stammered, all but shoving the bar of soap into his hand. “You are… this is… there is no way you are coming out of this shower clean if you leave this to me.”

“So tempting,” he laughed shakily, taking the soap from her with an unsteady hand. “Pray tell me,” he requested, lathering up his underarms, then turning away to rinse his chest and scrub his back at the same time, “what would you have done if I'd bid you continue?”

She'd realized, her hand around the hard shape of him and her eyes on his desperate, pleading face, that there were yet many things she wanted to do with him, many expressions she may not have seen, many ways of pleasing him, of goading him to please her, of them bringing each other to their knees, in some cases quite literally.

Her past lovers were not all disappointments, but they had not been nearly so generous, nor had they inspired such generosity in her. But she found that, graced by his gentle, caring, incredibly intimate treatment, guided by this swelling feeling in her heart she'd had since waking, faced with his enthusiastically willing body, she had oh so very much in her left to give.

She swallowed, head swimming with the weight of it. 

“I would have put my mouth around you,” she said, face hot, watching his hands at his back stutter to a stop. “And we'd see if that was another surprising place you might fit.”

“Fury grant me strength,” he groaned, his head lolling back, then taking a deep breath. “If—if not now, is that not just a lark, is that something you would—”

“Want again later?” she supplied, and he turned towards her and nodded, his eyes roving over her, his face fully flushed and brows furrowed with strain. “Yes,” she said plainly. “After how you devoured me last night? Absolutely,” she purred, wetting her lips. 

Haurchefant closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, clearly willing himself to relax. The amount of restraint this expressive, impulsive, willful man somehow possessed when called upon was a thing of beauty to see, even more so the thought of unburdening him from all of it later. “...I will look forward to such an occasion, then,” he said finally, then resumed cleansing himself. “Did the Fury herself send you to challenge me?” he laughed, face still flushed as he bent to lather up a lifted leg.

The Warrior of Light smiled, meeting his eyes with a glimmer in her own. “Perhaps,” she teased. “Or you me,” she offered, placing a hand on her hip, watching him lean into the water and give himself a final rinse, admiring him. “Though not before the Destroyer could endow you with his blessing.”

Haurchefant let out a raucous bark of laughter at this, flushing somehow further, but visibly relaxing. She grinned, taking the bar of soap from him as he handed it over, and took a quick turn in the shower, quickly washing the few places he had missed. Finally she turned the tap off, facing him.

"We should not allow this hot bath you've drawn us to grow cold," she said, pressing a kiss to his knuckles and watching him flush.

"Mm, we should not," he agreed, stepping close enough to press a longing kiss to her jaw, making her shudder with warmth and her mouth fall open. He lightly touched her waist as if to draw her to him, then seemed to think the better of it and took her hand instead. "Come, then, and enjoy a proper Ishgardian bath with me," he said, and she followed him breathlessly into the water.

The bath was still steaming hot, and as she stepped in, the heat on her legs was so relieving she sank fully into the tub right then and there, stretching her legs out beside Haurchefant as he sat with her, head resting against his broad shoulder. 

The heat of the bathwater came nearly to her own shoulders as she reclined. It let off a light, delicate herbal scent, and was so soothing that muscles she hadn't even realized were still sore even after Haurchefant's attentive treatment, began to ease their aches.

His arm wrapped around her waist, hand gently splayed across her stomach, and she relaxed into the touch, looking up to meet his gaze.

Haurchefant looked at her with a complex expression, his eyes filled with some kind of open feeling of desire and caring for her that made her heart ache and her body long for his touch.

The bath was decadent and relaxing. They'd made it here, somehow, despite how they'd both clearly wanted nothing more than to touch each other, continuing from last night in whatever way was possible.

But looking at him, feeling his naked body next to hers in the soothing bath water, seeing how open and soft his eyes were on hers even after all their teasing and banter, made her feel some kind of feeling she could not place. Her own body felt hot, not just from the bath, and very much alive. Her heart beat in a nearly painful way that felt like it could only be relieved by pressing her lips to his, wrapping her arms around him, and drawing him closer and closer until he was inseparable from her, until she didn't know where she ended and he began.

And so she did.

The Warrior of Light pressed her lips to his just as he'd resolved to do the same to her, and Haurchefant let out a gasp before kissing back, threading his fingers up into her damp hair. She floated near-weightless beside him, pressing the length of her body against him, sliding her arms around his back and the back of his neck, holding him close.

She had teased him so much, talked with him playfully, yet the feeling he got from her now was anything but playful. He cracked his eyes open to see hers shut, brows knitted, lashes fluttering, and his heart ached.

He breathed her name as their lips parted, watching her look up at him with hazy eyes, and kissed her again, gently pressing his tongue against hers. Her grip on his neck tightened, her soft bare legs entwining further with his. His heart beat firmly in his chest, guiding him onwards, and he hummed a sound of pleasure into her mouth as she slid her tongue against his, warm and welcoming.

Oh Halone but he was falling in love with her, hard and fast, every bit of him craving every bit of her, even as he already had her, had taken her body and filled her with him until she was left aching, still feeling the ghost of him inside her even now. Even as she kissed him like this, limbs entangled with his, soft and yielding against him, skin so hot under the heat of the bath, he found himself wanting more. 

Not just her body, nor her friendship, but her heart.

He caught a glimpse of them in the mirror across the room, the lower half of the glass unfogged somehow, and his breathing stuttered, awed by the image of her clinging to him, held in his arms. She broke the kiss, looking up at him, eyes half-lidded but soft with concern.

He gestured to the mirror with a soft point of his chin. “Look,” he said softly, and she rose to turn and sit in order to do so. He followed her up, legs still stretched in front of him, hand still draped across her waist, chin at her shoulder.

She let out a small gasp as she saw their reflections. She was beautiful, skin reddened and her smaller body nearly delicate in his arms, which were settled gently around her curves, supporting her. He found his own reflection quite an image too — his head resting along the strong slope of her shoulder, the shape of his larger frame clear behind her, his face flushed all the way to the ends of his ears. Seeing them together like this had a feeling coursing through him that was beyond description. 

“H-Haurchefant,” she breathed, meeting the eyes of his reflection with a look of sudden desperation. For a moment he started, concerned something was wrong — but as she brought a hand up to the cluster of dark, red-purple marks he'd left on her neck, his eyes widened with realization.

"Oh, yes," he murmured, ghosting his lips over her ear, "I did leave quite a few of those, didn't I. It is a shame I am not well-versed in healing," he continued, smiling appeasingly, running the pads of his fingers softly over a particularly dark mark he'd left at the conjunction between her shoulder and neck, causing her to shiver softly at the touch. "You may just have to wear these a while longer, if you do not wish to expend the aether yourself."

The Warrior was littered with many more marks than Haurchefant was, mainly clustered around her neck and shoulders, but a few scattered across lower towards her chest. Seeing her see them, see how he had marked her, her face coloring and her hand rising to press at them herself, hissing a breath as she found some of them tender, stoked a fire in him that had him holding his breath, waiting for her response.

She was among other things a talented healer, versed in arcanima of all types. Her aether reserves were unparalleled, an apparent boon of her blessing. There was no reason she could not immediately remove the marks, if she so wished.

Was she going to channel her aether and heal herself? Or would she bear the tender gifts he'd left her, hidden under the warm layers of her clothing like a relished secret?

There was no telltale glow of restorative magic, and she slowly dropped her hand down to her side. "...I suppose I shall have to," she consented, gazing downward and biting her lip, and the fire within him flared to life.

He pressed a firm kiss to the slope of her neck, his brow furrowed. "My friend," he began warningly, face hot, "you might consider what such a decision might mean, to anyone observing," he continued, bringing a hand to gently stroke her breast, watching her soft nipple harden as his thumb grazed over it. He brought his lips to the ball of her shoulder. She breathed hard, tensing and relaxing under his touch, watching his reflection intently. He turned her gently towards him, her body near-weightless in the bath, and bent and placed a kiss at the swell of her other breast, nearly pious, gazing up at her with wide eyes.

"What might it mean?" she asked, breathless, looking at him with some sort of want that had Haurchefant near trembling with desire.

He placed a hand at her cheek, fingers gently curling around the back of her ear, his thumb slowly stroking her cheekbone before going still. He met her gaze, their faces mere ilms apart. Her eyes did not leave him for a second.

"Why, that you had been claimed by somebody, and were glad of it," he answered, heart thrumming an anxious beat in his chest. "...That is what they might think."

She paused for a moment which felt like an eternity to Haurchefant, her eyes wide, her breath held. "...Would they be wrong?" she asked him finally, expression open and vulnerable in a way that made his heart ache.

He had not laid any claim to her with words, nor pledged himself to her in a similar fashion. The words between them had been of want and need, of fondness and caring, of friendship and trust, of now and later and perhaps but not of commitment, of declaration, of definition.

He realized now, in how she looked at him, that their bodies had indeed clearly spoken such to each other already even if their lips had not. That it had not been wishful thinking, or even simply his heart moving faster than hers. That she wanted this — wanted him, the man, the person — to be hers too.

"They don't have to be," he breathed, looking up at her, his open mouth tilting upwards at the corners into an aching smile. "If you would have me as... as your devoted lover; if you would find my overeager heart worthy of yours being mine, then..." He took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles, heart pounding in his chest, lips pressing deeply into her skin. "I would gladly, wholeheartedly pledge myself to you."

The Warrior of Light stared back at him with wide, watering eyes, then bit her lip against a smile that had him breathing in sharply with a surge of hope.

"I—I would— yes," she responded, overcome with emotion. "Haurchefant," she breathed, voice longing, reaching out to gently cup his chin. He leaned into her touch, drawn to her, nearly trembling. "I am... I am deeply fond of you in ways I have never known," she continued fervently, breath shaky and warm against his face. "I think I might be falling in love with you," she admitted in a small, timid voice, the sound of which set Haurchefant's heart alight. "Is that what this is? I've never felt this way before, but since waking in your arms, I... I can hardly breathe—"

Haurchefant fell upon her lips with an ardent passion. He pushed forward, his knees resting between hers in the warm bath, cradling her head in both his palms. She made a soft sound against him, surprised and needy, before melting into the kiss, her tongue meeting his in a tender, passionate embrace, her hands coming to both sides of his neck, pulling him in closer. A bright heat, a brilliant surging joy flared in Haurchefant's chest, every mote of his aether vibrating with life.

When they finally parted, eyes half-lidded and faces flushed, the Warrior of Light met him with a ravished, wondering gaze full of bewildered longing.

Haurchefant whispered her name, and could not suppress his smile even if Halone herself were to will it be so. "I am very much falling in love with you, too," he said, cupping her hand at his neck and lacing his fingers in between hers. She pressed her eyes shut and squeezed his fingers tightly in hers, taking in a shuddering breath, unable to hold back a smile of her own.

Can I really have this? Haurchefant thought, his chest aching and so, so full. Oh Halone, please, let this be true—

"Then..." she began, meeting his eyes with tender sincerity. "Then, yes. I am yours, Haurchefant. Will you be mine?"

"Yes," he swore, with an earnest tone of finality. "In any way in which you will have me." He bent in towards her, his nose brushing against hers.

She kissed him then, pulling his head in towards her, fingers weaving up into his soaking wet hair. Joy and desire mingled intoxicatingly in Haurchefant, rushing through his veins, as she ran a hand down to the small of his back, pulling him closer. She wanted him, she was falling in love with him, he was hers—

Her kiss was tender yet languid and longing, and the heat yet burning in his belly urged him on to deepen the kiss, pressing his tongue heavily against hers, meeting her slow pace but kissing back with firm, absolute desire for her heart and body both. Their mouths came together and apart in an agonizing rhythm, her lips lightly brushing against his before he pressed in closer, her mouth open and yielding beneath his only to then flick her tongue into his mouth, making him puff uneven breaths and feel as though his chest was being tugged towards her, bound by an invisible string.

When her hand came to his ear, firmly massaging up his bare, unadorned lobe in a deeply intentional caress, he heard a soft, needy sound of pleasure rise from his own lips. He found himself pleading her name, looking into her beautiful eyes to find them meeting his with almost equal need.

"You... you need me too, don't you?"

"I do," he answered, without hesitation. "More than anything."

“Then you can have me,” the Warrior of Light said with a smile so radiant, so desirous and loving, so utterly for him that he knew it would be forever seared into his memory.

Haurchefant picked her up and held her close, pulling her flush against him, feeling her knees lock around his thighs and his still-hard length press against her stomach. She gasped at the hot wave of contact, and he buried his face in her neck, overcome with what very much felt like love for her.

“My friend — no, my heart,” he choked out, wading out of the feverishly hot waters of the bath and gently laying her down on the fresh, fluffy bath mat, placing soft, thick towels underneath her head to support her neck. “I—I know this is not an ideal place for us to consummate our affections, but as we are wet and my sheets are already soiled with us—”

She shook her head, running her hands up his neck, thumbing the bare skin at his ear where his clasps usually rested, making him shiver into her touch as he knelt over her. “I would have you now,” she declared softly, wide open eyes yearning for him. “I care not where, or even how. This is comfort enough.”

“Then… again, I feel the same,” he sighed, bringing his hands to her thighs, running them up the soft skin that led to her core as he spread her legs apart. Her whole body was dripping with beads of water, but as her legs spread, revealing her before him, so did she, glistening wet with her slick and ready for him.

He bent over her, cupping her soft cheek and looking into her eyes before gently thrusting against her, his aching cock sliding over the length of her wet heat, his body shuddering at the relief of feeling her against him.

She moaned softly, looking vulnerable and lovestruck, making a small, beautiful sound as his flared head grazed her clit.

“Is this… can I feel you like this?”

The Warrior of Light nodded emphatically, cupping his ear in her hand. “Please.”

Haurchefant found his heart pounding, his body taut and holding on to one last thread of restraint. “Let me know if you feel any discomfort and I will cease immediately,” he insisted, and she smiled up at him, inclining her head. 

“I know,” she said, thumb rubbing gently up his earlobe, sending sparks through him all the way down to where they were as close to joined as they could be. “I have… I have never felt safer than in your arms,” she admitted, eyes downcast almost shyly, and the joy he felt at this expression of her trust was almost too much to bear. 

He gave a shuddering sigh and kissed her, sinking down against her, the incredible heat of her body against his the most wondrous relief. She returned his kiss with such passion, such clear unambiguous affection for him that his heart soared, and he deepened the kiss as he slid his cock against her, beginning a slow, aching pace. Even outside her like this her body still welcomed him; the velvety contours of her folds enveloping him in warmth, her generous arousal coating him as he glided across her, her hips canting against him as he dragged across the hard nub at her apex.

She moaned softly against his tongue, one hand rubbing torturously at his ear, the other slipping down to squeeze firmly at his ass as he ground into her. He puffed out a hot breath, their lips momentarily parting.

“Have you truly… have you truly never loved, before?” he found himself asking, heart feeling tender, lidded eyes meeting her own.

She shook her head. “Never,” she answered, her words tugging at something deep inside him. “You are the first.”

They were roughly of an age, and nearly three decades was so long for one such as her to go unloved, he thought — His emotions must have been writ plain on his face, for she dropped her hand from his ear to cup his chin, thumb gently pressing at his lip. 

“Do not be sad for me, Haurchefant. I am glad — glad that it is you.”

Haurchefant smiled at her, his brilliant blue eyes damp, and leaned into her touch. The Warrior of Light had never before felt such joy, such intimate passion, such unending trust. The way he looked at her — truly, as her friend had said, like the star spun around her alone — made her chest ache, her heart and soul itself yearning for him even as she so very clearly had him now.

This man, this beautiful, gentle, passionate man — he was hers, and hers alone.

“I must admit, rather selfishly, that I… I am glad it is me, too,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her neck with a heated flick of tongue. He continued to slide slowly against her, the incredible heat of his thick shaft between her inner lips filling her with a delicious, torturous, slowly building pleasure that made her breath hitch every time he ground over her clit. “You will not want for affection,” he declared, sighing against her neck, making her shiver, “nor find your heart broken at my hands, I swear it. Oh, Halone, my heart,” he swore, raising his head to look at her, eyes longing and lost, “I am falling so completely for you—”

“Haurchefant,” she breathed out, her heart straining, as if struggling to hold all these powerful new feelings coursing through her. ‘My heart’, he'd called her twice now, the words seemingly tugging her heart closer to his. It was like the ground had vanished beneath them and all that buoyed her was Haurchefant, flushed and radiant and absolutely lost in her, the feel of him making her head swim with pleasure, her core dripping against him. “Oh, Haurchefant, it's you, it's you, I'm falling in love with you—”

She cried out, emotions soaring as she frantically declared them, and her new lover let out what sounded like a whimper before pressing his lips to hers, his tongue darting into her mouth. She sucked him in eagerly, pulling his head in tightly by the ear, causing him to whine and grind more quickly against her.

Crackling waves of levin coursed through her from where they met, arcing down her thighs and making her tremble, building towards her inevitable peak. He was not inside her but she could still feel the aching mark he'd left in her deepest depths, making the deliciously smooth way he ground into her tinged with an even deeper pleasure.

They kissed with transcendent passion, trading soft bites back and forth to each other's lips, mouths coming together and apart quickly as they found they needed more and more air.

Haurchefant moaned out her name, tracing the edge of her ear with his thumb, sending a warm tingle down the back of her neck. “Heavens above, you are so beautiful, so perfect for me—”

She moaned hard at this, a high, desperate, musical sound that caught her off guard. Her pleasure built and built, a bright, intense heat that traveled all the way up through her chest. Gods, this man, this wonderful incredible man—

“Come for me, my heart,” he urged, voice shaky, his movements against her steady but stuttering. “I am here, I have you—”

His words were almost enough to bring her over the edge, but a sudden urge filled her, and she met his eyes with open desperation. “I want to… to see us… see you when I come, please—”

His eyes pinched shut in a desperate nod as he pushed himself up on an elbow, raising himself off her slightly. She looked down between them to see the head of him, thick and swollen and flushed a deep pink, grinding over her apex, sinking back into himself as he withdrew, then flaring out as he thrust forward. Twelve but it was a sight, his cock coated in her arousal, his slit weeping his own slick onto her with every forward thrust. 

She looked up at him to see him looking down at it too, seeming just as overwhelmed as she felt.

“By the Fury,” he cried through gritted teeth, rising to meet her eyes with a look of imminent need. “Such a sight, at your behest, I— I don't think I can last—” 

“Then don't — come with me, Haurchefant—”

She looked down again, canting her hips up into his cock, and he moaned and stuttered against her, hand clutching desperately at the back of her head, fingers tangled in her wet hair.

His pace quickened, unable to control himself any longer now, and with a couple more firm grinds against her she came, arching up into him, a soaring feeling of elation and bliss and hard waves of a slick, drowning pleasure washing through her, wringing her dry. He followed soon after, clutching her tightly to him, whispering her name against her ear like a prayer, before coming in a series of quick, hard thrusts, coating her heat and her stomach in the hot proof of his pleasure.

Haurchefant collapsed on his knees above her, his head hanging beside her, his breath panting hot against her neck. She clung loosely to him, her body gone limp, chest heaving, warm aftershocks still pulsing through her, soft static in her ears.

She came to before he did, breathing in a deep, gentle breath of satisfaction and boneless bliss. She looked up at him, still breathing hard above her, eyes shut, lips parted, handsome and vulnerable.

A soft, comfortable feeling fell upon her, like the warmth of a heavy blanket. She reached up a hand, cupping his cheek, and his eyelids fluttered open, bright azure eyes meeting her own.

She smiled up at him, and he searched her eyes with soft wonder before smiling too, wide and brilliant and beautiful.

“I feel like I belong here,” she said. 

“You do,” he answered, voice gentle yet insistent. “No matter what lies ahead, where our duties take us — you do,” he echoed, pressing soft lips to her cheek. “The Falling Snows, and my arms, will ever be a home for you.”

The Warrior of Light sighed, a wave of deep contentment sinking over her, a soft abiding affection, a love, she thought, for Haurchefant.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, thumbing gently at his ear with a delicate, soothing touch, “for falling in love with me.”

“I cannot help it,” he replied simply. “Can you?”

She shook her head, letting out a breath, then drew him down for a kiss.

The steady beating of her heart, of his pulse under her fingers, the heat of his gentle lips upon hers — all filled the Warrior of Light with a strength and a happiness she had not yet known. The fading steam of the forgotten bath beside them swirled in eddies around them as the air slowly cooled, but somehow Haurchefant's gentle touch was enough to keep her whole body warm.

Chapter Text

The Warrior of Light sat most comfortably in Haurchefant's entertaining room, wonderful smells drifting in from the nearby kitchen. After their bath together had ended abruptly in a way that had her staring dreamily up at the ceiling just thinking about it, face flushed, they'd cleaned themselves up again and gotten dressed. The Warrior's clothes were dirtied from yesterday's training, so Haurchefant had insisted he would sneak down into her chambers after breakfast and grab her a fresh outfit to wear. In the meantime, she had been wrapped in Haurchefant's thick, luxurious bathing robe, and she now sat at his table nursing a mug of delicious, creamy Ishgardian tea he'd prepared for her to enjoy while he set to making them breakfast.

She could hear him humming happily to himself as he worked, the tune unfamiliar and slightly off key, but delightfully charming to her ear. I could get used to this, she thought.

Haurchefant, her dear friend and newly devoted lover. It was... well, it felt wonderful. After last night, and the morning they'd had so far, there was no doubt in her mind that this was real, the feelings between them the most vivid thing she'd ever felt.

The storm still rattled outside Haurchefant's curtained windows, and she knew she would have to return to whatever passed as "normal life" for her eventually — what would she say to the Scions? The mere thought made her face flush; she was the kind of person who usually held her personal feelings rather close to her chest — but for now, she resolved to enjoy this unexpected happiness she'd found here with this man who cared for her in every possible sense of the word.

A creak of the door brought her to look up from the small dining table at which she was seated, only to see a beaming Haurchefant, pale blue hair tucked back behind one ear, carefully balancing a full plate of food on each hand as he opened the door with a knee. For a moment she thought to rise and help him, but he easily crossed the distance to the table and set each dish down on their respective placemats.

"Breakfast is served, my darling," he cooed playfully, kissing her gently on the forehead, and she felt herself flush.

"This is... Haurchefant, you didn't have to," she said, taking in the spread before them with appreciation and hunger.

He'd made them each a hearty breakfast — a tall, golden-brown stack of hotcakes with butter and birch syrup, a few strips of thick cut smoked bacon, and four perfectly cooked sunny side up eggs, with cracked pepper ground over them. There was even a little bowl of fresh fruit on each of their plates, consisting of sliced faerie apples and various sweet winter berries she knew could be foraged in these parts, sprinkled lightly with what looked to be cinnamon. Though he most often took meals with the Scions and his men, she could tell these ingredients had come from his personal stores and were of exceptional quality. It was all she could do to restrain herself from digging in.

"Ah, but I wanted to," he assured her with a smile, sitting down and picking up his knife and fork. "Besides, I dine with you and the Scions so often now, I needed to prepare some of this soon else it go to waste. Please, don't hold back on my account."

The Warrior smiled gratefully and dug in, trying a little bit of everything at first, savoring the first bite of each.

"Twelve, this is delicious," she gushed, after swallowing a particularly buttery bite of light, fluffy syrup-soaked pancake. The milky, bergamot-heavy tea washed it down perfectly. "When did you find the time to learn to cook like this? You have me sorely beaten," she laughed, popping a slice of tart, spiced pixie apple into her mouth. And... what was that mixed with the cinnamon? A hint of pearl ginger? It was delightful.

He smiled at her compliment around a forkful of his own, looking utterly contented. "My mother worked in service to House Fortemps before I was born, mainly in our manor's kitchens," he explained once he'd swallowed his mouthful. "Thanks to her, I came to develop a love of cooking."

A precious image suddenly came to the Warrior of Light's mind, of a young, adorable Haurchefant being patiently taught how to mix pancake batter by a doting mother, and just the thought made her heart melt.

"She taught you well," she insisted, taking a bite of bacon. It was perfectly crispy on the outside, with just the right amount of chewiness within, absolutely bursting with smoky flavor, and oh, she hadn't realized just how hungry the last dozen bells or so they'd spent together had made her until she'd begun eating. "Gods, I could eat like this every day," she blurted out automatically, then felt her face flush hot as she realized what she'd said.

He chuckled, then gently placed his hand over hers atop the table. "Don't tempt me to keep you here all to myself," he said in a low, quiet voice. She looked up at him to see his eyes soft and near hesitant on hers.

"You probably could," she answered quietly, spearing a portion of egg onto her fork with her free hand. He squeezed her hand for a moment before letting it go and returning to his own meal.

"The world needs you," he sighed matter-of-factly, beginning to slice up his hotcakes into bite-sized pieces. "I would not deprive them, nor you of your travels."

"Mm," she said thoughtfully, around a mouthful of - gods - yet again perfectly cooked egg. The yolk was especially creamy and rich; she made a note to try dipping some hotcake in it. "Well, the world can wait a bit longer, as far as I'm concerned," she decided, taking a sip of her tea.

He smiled warmly at her, deep affection plain on his face. She met him with a similar expression, perhaps just a bit more shyly, and they continued to eat in silence, both simply enjoying each other's presence.

How did something so simple as sitting across the table from Haurchefant make her heart feel so bright? Of course, she'd had similar feelings for him for a while now, but the difference she felt now that they'd been intimate - truly, so intimate - together, confessing their feelings, pledging their hearts to one another... Did other people feel like this about the ones they loved, she wondered? How on Hydaelyn did they ever get anything done?

Haurchefant watched the Warrior of Light enjoy the meal he'd cooked for her with a deep, precious sense of fulfillment in his chest. He watched as she took a bit of her hotcakes and dipped it in a pool of egg yolk, then clearly savored the bite, eyes closing in pleasure, a hand coming to her cheek — he had to look away, his heart felt so overwhelmingly happy at the sight.

If only she could stay here with me, part of him sighed dreamily, I would gladly care for her like this every day... But he knew neither of them would want that, not for very long. Soon, hopefully, she would need to leave for Ishgard where her and the remaining Scions would truly be much more safe, and besides, he knew that despite somehow newly being his, her heart truly belonged out there on the road, seeing the world. But... but if, somehow blessedly, they could do that together...

"...You know, my heart, when I said I had half a mind to accompany you to Ishgard I was quite serious," he confessed, meeting her look of hopeful surprise with a small smile. "Even more so, now that I know how you truly feel about me," he added, running a hand through the hairs at the back of his neck. "I do have my duties, as things stand, but... the officers under my command are quite capable of handling things here in my absence, so long as we are not under pressing attack. I will of course have to make arrangements, and I may well still need to spend the bulk of my time here at Camp Dragonhead, however... I very much want to show you my home, and to fight by your side on one of your inevitable adventures."

She beamed at him, eyes filled with plain affection for him, glimmering with excitement. Seeing her react to his indulgent dreaming with such joy made him grin brightly, enthusiasm welling up from within.

"I would like nothing more myself," she agreed, returning his grin. Ah, her smile is so truly splendid, he thought, leaning his head into his palm, elbow propped up against the table. "If there is anything I can do to help make that possible, Haurchefant..."

"Mmm," he answered tentatively, searching his mind dreamily as he ate another bite of his food. "I am reasonably certain there likely will be, but at this point I believe I must make the next step alone," he said, taking a sip of his tea. "First I must needs speak with the Count about you... convince him to take you and your companions in as wards of House Fortemps," he thought aloud, spearing another bite.

She looked surprised — ah, yes, he supposed he hadn't told her the details of his plans before now. "This was my plan all along, you see," he added quickly. "As wards of our House, you would be treated with many of the same rights as full citizens of Ishgard, and allowed to enter the city even as our gates remain closed to foreigners. There are yet other paths if this one fails, but this is our best and most expedient shot at securing a place in Ishgard for you and all of your companions," he explained, and she nodded seriously, swallowing another bite.

"I see," she answered. "So you need to convince your father to let us in? Will that be... difficult?"

"In full honesty?" he asked, grimacing. "I do not know — my father is a good man, and he does truly care for me, but we have ever had a distant relationship of few words. I must hope that my passion and your deeds speak strongly enough that he is convinced bringing you in will be well worth the risk," he laid out. Watching her take his words in with thoughtful consideration, he found he felt a surge of courage and resolve. "But I will convince him, whatever it takes — this I swear to you," he added firmly, thumping a fist to his chest. "Once the current attacks on the city cease and the Count is not preoccupied with helping maintain defense, anyhow," he added a bit sheepishly. "Perhaps I am getting rather ahead of myself. But that is my plan, and I would have you know my plans."

She smiled gratefully. "I believe in you," she said softly, placing her small hand atop his. The brief, gentle, reassuring touch stoked his resolve again. "I am glad to know what you've been planning. Would I be staying with your house in the city, then, if all goes well?"

He nodded. "Yes, at our manor in the Pillars — the upper levels of the Holy See, where the nobility live," he explained, but she nodded as if she were already familiar - right, she had of course been gleaning knowledge in preparation of her travels there. "We have many guest rooms, far finer than those here, and I would see you and your companions spared no comforts," he assured her.

"Would your family... take it well? My relationship with you, I mean?" the Warrior of Light asked, lashes downcast, cheeks slightly pink.

Oh... yes, that was going to be an issue, Haurchefant thought, feeling troubled. "They may," he offered, and she looked up, watching him intently. "And after they meet you and come to know you, I am certain they will adore you. But, my heart... as much as I would gladly shout my affections for you from the rooftops, it may be wise for us to be publicly discreet about the nature of our connection, for a time," he added with a deep sigh, meeting her concerned eyes across the table. Oh, it pained him to say such, but knowing the ways of Ishgard...

She frowned, and it made his heart ache to see it. "For what reason?"

"'Tis not my preference either, I assure you," he began with a grimace. "It is only that all eyes will most certainly be upon you and your companions as you spend your first days in the city. Ishgardian nobility are fond of gossip, and frequently make snap judgments based on such. It is... truly in your best interest to establish yourselves in Ishgard in your own right with your own reputation alone, rather than to give them cause to believe... unsavory things."

"Unsavory things like what?" she asked.

"Well... unsavory things that may come to ill-intentioned minds when they see that you are consorting intimately with a known noble bastard," he admitted, watching her frown switch tone to concern. "It would be best to first establish yourself in the city, to gain trust amongst the people, before you let them see us as more than simply friends and comrades. I am not disliked, but... there are many ways in which throwing in your lot with mine may limit your access to resources in searching for your lost comrades, and I would not place that burden upon you."

She closed her eyes, seriously considering what he'd had to say, and he felt somewhat nervous awaiting her answer. Finally, she nodded, opening her eyes and meeting him with a look of sympathy.

"Alright, I understand," she said. "It's politics. I hate politics," she added with a wry laugh. "It's the worst part of being the Warrior of Light by far."

"Yes, I suppose it would be," he grimaced. "I am not fond of them myself, but born as I was, they have ever been a part of life for me," he said with a sigh, leaning back in his seat, taking a sip of his tea.

"...You know, my parents were not wed either," she added quietly. He started, looking at her with surprise. "It is... difficult to hear that something so inconsequential has undoubtedly caused you so much pain. Where I am from, it truly did not matter to hardly anyone," she explained, looking at him with... not pity, but sympathy and concern. "The worst I had to contend with were occasional playground taunts."

"That is... heartening to hear, I must confess," he said sincerely. "Perhaps one day when Ishgard truly opens its borders and hearts at last, things will change. I have had it far easier than most in my position, which has always been difficult for me to grapple with," he added with a grimace.

"It was not easy, was it?" she asked softly, her eyes on his knowing and kind.

"...No, it was not," Haurchefant admitted quietly. The Warrior closed her eyes for a moment and nodded, then reached over and placed her hand on his. He drew in a breath at this, feeling himself relax and soften at her touch. He moved their hands so that he was holding hers in his palm, gently stroking his thumb over the tops of her fingers. They were calloused at their fingertips like his, but so small and soft against his own. "You are so very kind, my heart," he remarked with quiet sincerity, meeting her gaze.

She flushed at his words, eyes flitting downcast, a small smile on her lips. Oh, he loved her, he knew beyond anything.

"Worry not," he continued more lightheartedly, smiling pleasantly. "My humble deeds in defense of Ishgard have long since sorted out the bulk of my difficulties. My people may be stubborn and close-minded at times, but with the Fury as our guide they do ever recognize an earnest proving of honor," he explained, then squeezed her hand in his. "Which is why I am most certain our problems will sort themselves out in due time. A more honorable woman than you I have not known."

She smiled bashfully, before squeezing his hand back and releasing it, looking him in the eye with an unexpected glimmer of challenge that had him perking up immediately.

"If it's heroics in service of Ishgard they require of me again, then I aim to deliver," she said with a smirk, punching her fist into her open palm. "Will you keep training with me once the storm clears? I want to make certain that my skills are perfected."

"I will," he returned with a confident grin of his own, before returning to cut himself another bite of his hotcakes. "Training with you has redoubled my interest in surpassing my own limits, I must say. I have never been in such good form in all my days."

"Mmm," she agreed, looking over what portion of his body was not hidden underneath the table's edge. Her eyes were openly admiring and flirtatious, wandering across his chest in a way that had his heart beating faster and a smile coming to his lips. He was fully clothed in both sweater and trousers, but he had the distinct feeling she was vividly recalling what lay underneath. "You certainly are. I will be glad to keep challenging you, then," she smirked, before going back to her meal.

"Splendid," he grinned, eyes traveling over her in turn. His soft white bathing robe was incredibly large around her slight frame, cinched tight at the waist, its overlapping neckline only revealing a bare sliver of her collarbones — the dark marks he'd left on her skin still remaining along her neck, proudly proclaiming her his. His robe's long sleeves were rolled up so high the fabric was practically doubled up, yet they still threatened to slip down over her hands if she was not careful. The look was at once incredibly attractive to him and patently cute.

Yes... yes, he certainly was very much falling in love. Even the way he noticed she sometimes piled far too large of a bite onto her fork and then struggled a bit to chew and swallow it without opening her mouth or looking foolish was deeply charming to him.

They ate in comfortable silence, enjoying their large plates of food, both finding themselves ravenously hungry. Every so often one would meet the other with a smile and a look that communicated much, affection and enjoyment clear in their eyes.

How have I gotten here? Haurchefant wondered to himself over and over, in a blissful daze. My friend... my lover? Marked by me... falling in love with me?

It was so much more than he would have ever dared to dream of. And yet, here he was. Everything simply felt right.

The Warrior finished off her hotcakes and then brought a hand to her mouth as if suddenly recalling something, cheeks flushing as she swallowed quickly. "...Actually, I may have already told someone else I... have feelings for you," she said hesitantly.

"...You have?" Haurchefant replied, voice coming out soft and awed.

She nodded, seeming embarrassed. "I... I didn't know if you felt the same and I was on the verge of losing sanity, so I may have talked to Tataru..." She trailed off, her voice becoming uncharacteristically small. Why was she shy now? It was horribly adorable, he thought, his heart brimming with affection.

"...And? What did she say?" he asked, deeply curious.

"She... told me to go for it," she laughed, smiling nervously. "Said she'd seen us both staring at each other when the other wasn't looking. She said that you... were clearly very fond of me," she added quickly, face reddening further. "I don't think she will tell anyone, if you are worried."

What incredibly keen perception, Haurchefant thought, feeling a chill sweep down his spine. I am rather lucky to be on Mistress Tataru's good side, I fear.

"That is no trouble at all," he assured her. "I do not want to keep us secret," he clarified. "It is alright if your trusted friends know. I would just forego any public displays of affection for the time being," he said, face appeasing. "And I am... truly in Mistress Tataru's debt, if her words played any part in bringing you here."

The Warrior laughed, a bright and clear sound that delighted him. "Don't you dare tell her that, or she'll be having you pay back every gil of that debt somehow. I love Tataru, she is a dear friend, but you would not want to know the details of how the Scions have functioned on our rather limited funding," she intimated ominously, eyes crinkling in a smile. "If you wish to thank her, give her a gift and do not provide her with any particular reason why, if you know what's good for you."

He laughed nervously. "I will keep that in mind."

"And what about your men?" she asked. "I daresay it seems rather likely Tataru is not the only particularly observant one at Camp Dragonhead."

"My men are... given to indulging me with a bit of discretion," he responded. "They are loyal, and I have long turned a blind eye to their own trysts with travelers, or else provided home for their families within our keep, provisions which I am unfortunately aware not all others with my rank afford their own men as freely. Unless we openly make proclamations before them, I am not concerned," he assured her.

"...Discretion, hmm." She said thoughtfully, the corners of her mouth turning up in the hints of a knowing smirk. "I take it I am not the first traveler you've bedded, then?"

Haurchefant's cheeks reddened a bit at this, a nervous smile coming to his lips. "...No, if you will forgive my lack of propriety," he admitted. Truth be told in full, most of his dalliances had been with travelers to his keep. "Though I must insist that all others do fade rather starkly in comparison."

She laughed, without a hint of jealousy, and he found himself grinning back at her.

"Well, the same holds true for me," she divulged. "Travelers and adventurers, charming faces in new ports..."

"Mm," he nodded. "But none that compare?" he asked with a small smile, hopeful.

"Not a one," she assured him, leaning in and looking at him fondly.

"That is most splendid," Haurchefant replied breathily, feeling drawn to her again despite himself. No, no, I must finish my meal and attend to my tasks, he thought, willing his heart to cease racing quite so quickly. He would ever be battling these urges in her presence even after she had revealed herself to be most willing to indulge them, he realized. He made himself finish what was left on his plate. Perhaps with luck he would need the energy it gave him later.

She finished her meal as well, stealing glances at him that made suppressing his racing heart most difficult.

"Well," she began, dabbing her lips with her napkin rather properly, "If we must maintain a level of discretion, I suppose you won't be taking me on the streets of the Holy See any time soon," she teased, cheeks pink.

Haurchefant felt his head grow hot, a flush creeping up over his ears. Did he... Did he tell her that particular fantasy of his? Oh Halone, he suddenly recalled with much embarrassment, he certainly did.

"You remembered that?" he asked, laughing nervously. "Oh dear."

"How could I forget?" She laughed, setting her napkin down on the table, eyes glittering mischievously. "Your desk is off limits too, then?"

"You absolute tease," he groaned, grinning. "If you keep speaking of such things, I fear you may be able to goad me into making decisions most unwise."

She smiled, seeming rather pleased with herself. Fury be praised, he seemed to have truly met his most insatiable match. Wonderful ideas immediately came to mind, now to — in truth and not just in hopeful daydream — file away for later use in that little leatherbound book of wishful fantasies he kept in his study.

"I shall keep that in mind," she said sweetly, before taking a last long sip of her tea, swallowing, and setting it down with a satisfied breath. "That was a most delicious breakfast," she praised, leaning back in her chair and smiling warmly at him. "And such generous portions. I couldn't possibly eat another bite."

Her face was completely sweet and innocent, all signs of teasing abruptly gone, but Fury if Haurchefant's enamored mind did not immediately jump to other ways in which his beautiful new lover had been recently filled by him.

"I aim to satisfy," he said as innocently as he could manage, watching a flicker of amusement flit across her face. He brought himself to stand and prepare to leave, suspecting that if he did not do so now, he might be rather delayed. "I shall go fetch you a fresh change of clothing, then," he added with an incline of his head. "Is there aught in particular you would like me to retrieve?"

She nodded, rising as well. "There should be a black sweater in my armoire that has a rather tall neckline," she explained.

Ah. To hide his marks. He smiled widely, making a mental note of it.

"Anything else, my heart?"

"No, just a full set of whatever else you see first should be plenty. Thank you for doing this," she said, meeting his eyes with sincerity.

He shook his head. "No need for thanks," he murmured, stepping close to her. She looked up at him, eyes searching his, and he gently brought down a hand to palm her cheek before gently kissing her lips. He felt her sigh out a soft breath beneath him, pressing her lips back against his, her hands holding his waist.

When their lips parted, and he met her eyes gently opening to look at him with a soft, hopeful warmth, he could feel his chest expanding, his heart shining bright within.

"...How am I supposed to leave?" he laughed softly. "You are truly, beyond words, far too lovely," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheekbone. He could feel her smiling underneath his lips. Her hands came to his cheeks suddenly, pulling him down for a kiss... which she planted softly on the bridge of his nose, right at the swell of its arch. His heart melted at this, and he looked at her, awed.

"I will be right here waiting for you," the Warrior of Light said almost shyly, taking a step back, then examining the marks she'd left on him, crawling up past the high neckline of his sweater. "...Oh, I should probably clean those up a bit before you go," she added sheepishly.

"Oh," Haurchefant's eyes widened, recalling that, yes... he himself was also quite visibly marked. "'Tis a pity to undo your handiwork, but, yes... I suppose that would be wise," he conceded, crouching down to be easier to reach.

"I can just heal the parts that peek up over your neckline, if you prefer," she suggested, eyes glimmering.

He nodded. "I very much would," he breathed, watching her eyes darken in response with a bit of a thrill.

She nodded, smiling with a softly shy smugness. "Alright then," she said, bending over him and bringing her hand to his neck. A gentle light shone at the corner of his vision, a heat seeping through his skin. The tingle of her aether, bright and hot, sung through him, the sensation strangely intimate. The glow faded and she brought her hand to cup his ear, channeling her aether into him once more. The feeling on his sensitive ear made him rather obviously shudder, in the way perhaps an intimate whisper might make a man feel a pleasant chill run down his spine. She giggled softly at this before moving to his other ear.

"A pity," she sighed, meeting his eyes with a glint of mirth, "the ones on your ears were my favorite."

Oh, Fury preserve me, Haurchefant prayed reflexively. "Then I sincerely hope you will leave more at the next opportunity," he answered fervently, a flicker of heat stirring in his belly.

The Warrior simply smiled down at him, then channeled her aether into him a final time, the tingling warmth at his ear once again making him shiver. She looked him over carefully, then nodded in approval.

"All done," she proclaimed, stepping back. "It's not perfect, without a focus to channel my aether through, but... it's certainly not obvious anymore. ...I might need another cup of tea after that, to be honest," she breathed, sounding slightly fatigued. "Healing without my grimoire is rather taxing."

"There is more in the kettle on the stovetop," Haurchefant said, rising and rubbing a soothing hand on her shoulder, through the familiar soft fabric of his robe. "I can prepare you another cup before I go?"

She shook her head. "I can help myself, you needn't worry. I'll see you soon," she added, pushing forward to lay a kiss on his cheek. His mind soft with affection for her, he smiled gently and laid a kiss on her own cheek as well, before reluctantly turning for the door.

The Warrior of Light watched the snow continue to fall in a blurry blizzard outside Haurchefant's kitchen window as she rinsed his now-clean dishes, re-energized by her second cup of tea.

She didn't have to go anywhere today, did she? Could she just stay here, in Haurchefant's warm and cozy chambers, reveling in this wondrous new feeling in her chest?

Oh, but that storm did look rather intense, and there was probably much around the camp that needed tending to... Not to mention her friends, who were likely in the mess hall at the moment, wondering why she was missing in the middle of a raging blizzard.

No, it likely would not do for her to simply pass the whole day in bliss with the man who now held her heart, as much as she found she wanted to do just that.

Footfalls sounded from the other room as she turned off the tap, having just set the final dish into its draining rack — she turned to see Haurchefant in the kitchen's doorway, carrying her pack, his eyes falling upon her with surprise.

"My heart, I did not ask you to bother yourself with such a thing—"

She shook her head, shrugging. "I know, but it's really nothing at all." She had found herself buzzing with energy after he'd left, and it had been very hard to sit still. Her hands had found themselves busying her with the dishes before she knew it.

The Warrior of Light finished drying her hands on the nearby dishtowel, and Haurchefant drew close, taking her warm hand in his own and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "Thank you," he murmured, his eyes soft. She felt herself nodding slightly, cheeks warm.

"Ah, right — here you are," he added cheerfully, handing her the satchel he held. It was heavier than she'd expected. "One full set of clothing, sure to conceal our deeds from prying eyes," he teased, eyes narrowing with a conspiratorial smile. "And your grimoire, so you can handle what your clothing cannot without taxing you further."

She met his look with a knowing grin of her own, taking her bag gratefully. "Much appreciated," she said. "I suppose I will go change?"

"Mm, you should..." he agreed, trailing off as his eyes traveled down her body, along her bare legs. His large robe fell well past her knees, but the way he looked at her made her feel like she wore hardly anything at all. "Else I fear we may never leave my quarters at all, and give cause for others to worry."

She smirked at him devilishly as if to goad him into abandoning his duties, watching him stiffen and flush as she bent closer to him, his eyes widening. Then she laughed, holding her pack close to her chest and standing on her toes to press a light kiss to his cheek. "I'll be right back, then," she said, walking past him and out of the room.

She opened up her pack upon arriving in his bedchamber, setting it on the foot of the bed. He'd brought her turtleneck sweater just as she'd asked, one of her favorite pairs of pants, some wonderfully warm socks he'd doled out to her and the other Scions upon their arrival, and a practical breast band and undershirt both well-suited for exercise. The smalls he'd provided, she noted, were a particularly extravagant lacy pink pair she'd bought in the markets of Ul'dah on a fanciful whim and had forgotten she'd even had in her things at all. She laughed aloud upon seeing them.

Well, I suppose I wasn't specific, she thought with a small snort.

When she returned to his main entertaining room, fully dressed and with all evidence of their revelry above her collar gone, Haurchefant was sitting on the sofa and jotting down something in a small notebook. Upon seeing her, he looked up from his scribbling, met her with a wide smile, and then pocketed it.

"Ah, that is quite a good look on you, actually," he said, sitting up straight and reaching his arm across the back of the sofa, as if inviting her to come sit next to him. She did, nestling in beside him. He brought a hand to her high collar, pulling back the fabric slightly and looking rather proud of himself before smoothing it up properly again. "I do not see you wear that sweater often."

"It's a little bit warm for our training," she shrugged, meeting his eyes with a glimmer of amusement. "But I will keep it in mind."

He smiled, then sighed out a breath and pulled her close against him, one hand coiling around her waist, the other falling atop her knee. She looked up at him, their eyes searching one another for a moment, before she leaned in and drew him down for a kiss.

Haurchefant's lips were slow and longing on hers, his hand leaving her knee to thumb over her ear and thread into the side of her hair, his tongue pressing gently at her lips for entrance. She felt a warm wave of relaxing, gentle passion wash through her as her lips parted, his tongue meeting hers with soft, delicate flicks.

If she was a bit more selfish — if they were both unencumbered by propriety and duty, she felt like she could remain here for days, melting into his kisses, and figuring out what exactly made him melt in the same way.

But this was all so very new, and there should be some weeks yet until she had to leave for Ishgard — they had all the time in the world to keep exploring each other, to keep discovering the shape of what it was that lay between them.

When they finally broke the kiss after what felt like an endless blissful age, Haurchefant met her with a hazy smile filled with such affection it made her ache.

"I would love nothing more than to stay here with you for as long as you would have me present," he confessed, pressing his lips to her hair, "but I fear I must report to Corentiaux and see where our defenses need aid during this storm. If not, I worry either he or Yaelle may soon break down my door," he laughed softly.

The Warrior nodded, placing her hand on his knee. "Yes... and I should check in on the other Scions, as well," she replied, shrugging a shoulder. "If you have need of me during the storm... professionally, I mean," she added with a laugh, watching him meet her with a look of amusement. "Call for me. I am still in fighting condition, even if we seem to be taking the day off from training."

"I will do so," he said, lifting her hand from his knee and pressing a kiss to her fingers, making her sigh, her chest filling with warmth.

"Before I go, I must give you something, my heart," Haurchefant said suddenly, pressing something small, cold and metallic into her palm. The Warrior looked down to see she held a small key, then flicked her eyes back up to his in surprise. His face was rather serious as he spoke. "Pray treat my chambers as your own. You are welcome whenever you wish. You may lay by my fire in the evenings... share a meal with me in the mornings... or simply use my baths in the middle of the day when I am absent, I care not. Whenever you wish it, and in any way you choose, my home may be yours."

"Haurchefant," she whispered, "I—"

He placed a gentle finger to her lips, smiling self-effacingly. "You do not have to, if you are uncomfortable. If it is too soon. I simply..." he trailed off, tracing his fingertips along her cheek, eyes slightly vulnerable and searching hers. "I want you to know how much you are welcome. That I wish to be a place you feel you can return to." He smiled nervously, eyes flitting downcast. "I am rather hopelessly falling in love with you, after all."

The Warrior of Light's grip tightened around the key as she drew in a breath. She slipped it securely into her pocket, then brought her hand to his cheek, entreating him seriously with her gaze, despite how her heart pounded and her hand nearly trembled against his skin. His eyes searched hers, seeming awed.

"Thank you," she breathed, then, feeling very much in love herself, she pressed her lips to his.

Chapter Text

Tataru Taru was nearly certain that she was about to be the proud holder of quite the choice bit of gossip. The Warrior of Light had not shown up for dinner last night, or for breakfast in the mess hall this morning, much to the concern of Alphinaud. Having finished their meal, the three of them now lingered in the entrance hall, trying to assuage his unease.

"Do—do you think she is out there, in that terrible storm?" Alphinaud worried, pressing a concerned knuckle to his lips. "Not that I doubt her considerable abilities, but... goodness, even these knights seem to fear this blizzard."

Yugiri inclined her head slightly. "She is quite familiar with this area's terrain, so even if so, I do believe she shall have been likely to have successfully found shelter," she reassured the young Elezen, who simply nodded distractedly.

Tataru sighed, inwardly. There was a rather obvious explanation to their dear friend's absence, one that she supposed she was the only one of them keen enough towards such matters to be privy to. "Worry not, Alphinaud," she said placatingly, patting the young man on the leg. "I am certain she is just fine. She was last seen by Yugiri, making her way to meet Lord Haurchefant for training — they are quite likely to be together, I would venture."

Alphinaud looked up abruptly and blinked, then looked down at Tataru with a smile of relief. "...Tataru, you are quite right. That is a most reassuring thought." She smiled back at him, nodding confidently.

Yes, most reassuring. And also exciting — if her suspicions were correct, and a most wonderful romance was brewing in their midst.

The Warrior of Light had ever been quite reticent when it came to forming attachments to others, she'd thought — making fast friends and allies out of the Scions and others they'd met, but not truly letting anyone in particularly closely. Tataru had been the Warrior of Light's closest friend among the Scions, she'd realized at some point; and even they were both so busy with their respective duties that they hardly had time to meet. When they did, their time together, while most enjoyable, was often little more than surface-level chats and idle gossip over tea and finger sandwiches, or whatever else F'lhaminn had supplied them with once she had joined them at the Rising Stones. So, for the Warrior of Light to come to her with romantic concerns, a confession of developing feelings and attraction towards one Lord Haurchefant Greystone... truly, it had been both an expression of the Warrior's trust and value of Tataru's opinion, and a sign that the Warrior's feelings must certainly be most ardent.

And now, a mere night after seeking Tataru's sage counsel, she'd gone missing for more than a dozen bells, neither the Warrior or Lord Haurchefant anywhere in sight? Well. They could all certainly use something to be glad about, couldn't they. Although such behavior, if her suspicions were correct, did show a rather amusing lack of tact or forethought...

She suppressed a giggle thinking about them, at how wide the smile on the ever-so-expressive Camp Dragonhead commander's face must have been upon realizing she harbored affections for him. That man looked at her friend like a lovelorn knight from those bawdy novels she'd loved discussing in hushed tones with Minfilia over a cup at the Quicksand back in the day. Lord Haurchefant clearly spent every moment that he was in the Warrior of Light's presence nearly tripping over himself to indulge her, and she hadn't realized he was romantically interested in her? Oh, the poor, handsome thing.

Yes, she so dearly hoped that she was right, for both their sakes. The Warrior of Light truly did deserve nothing less than the most dramatic, perfect paperback romance. And perhaps Tataru herself deserved to be privy to some of its thrilling details.

"Tataru?" Alphinaud asked, waving a hand in front of her face, and she started out of her thoughts abruptly.

"Ah?! Y-yes, Alphinaud?" she answered, getting her bearings. Had he said something?

"Yugiri suggested that you visit her quarters and see if she has not yet returned," he explained with a small frown. "Are you quite alright, Tataru? You seemed rather unresponsive for a good minute there."

She laughed nervously, shaking the cobwebs of daydreams from her mind. "Yes, I am quite fine. And that sounds like a wise idea," she added, smiling up at Yugiri, who nodded pleasantly. "Then return we shall— oh!"

At that exact moment, who should appear but the Warrior of Light herself?

She was clad in light, warm layers - soft trousers, a tall, dark sweater that covered her neck - carried a pack slung across her body, and was unarmed. She did not seem like she'd come from outside.

Alphinaud called out to her as he turned to see her there, and she looked up abruptly, then raised a hand and smiled at them, walking over.

"Oh, there you are. Thank the Twelve. Where have you been all this time?" Alphinaud asked, sounding curiously like a worried mother.

"Oh — I took an early dinner last night, and was treated to breakfast with Haurchefant this morning to celebrate a particular success in my training," she explained, smiling as she looked off to the side slightly. Tataru watched her closely, absolutely bursting with repressed questions. "I am sorry if I worried you, Alphinaud."

"Oh? What success? Is your training now complete?" Yugiri asked, suddenly very interested. No, that's not the important question to ask here! Well, perhaps she did wish to know as well.

"In a sense, yes," she admitted, shrugging inward before standing tall and beaming rather proudly. "I finally was able to defeat Haurchefant in a practice bout," the Warrior of Light added in a soft voice, as to avoid alerting the knights in their periphery to her accomplishment.

Yugiri and Alphinaud congratulated her in turn, seeming genuinely awed. Tataru did as well; this was wonderful news.

"Thank you. But, I still have much I wish to learn from him," she continued. Oh yes, Tataru was sure she did. "I plan to continue honing my new skills so that I am able to protect the Scions to the best of my ability."

The Warrior of Light spoke excitedly and humbly at once, an affectation she often had that made her quite endearing. Yet, gladdened as she was to hear this, and to see her friend in such good spirits, Tataru absolutely buzzed with questions she wished to ask her.

"That is most heartening," Alphinaud said, seeming quite reassured. "I am certain you will do an excellent job." Yugiri nodded in agreement, and Tataru grinned, giving her a thumbs up.

"Oh," the Lalafell called the Warrior by name, "if you have a moment, can I speak with you in my quarters? It's about what we discussed earlier," she said innocently, round eyes twinkling up at her friend. "I can brew us a pot of my finest tea in celebration."

Yugiri looked at her abruptly as if she wished to join them, her fondness for Tataru's tea blends rather clear in her eyes — Tataru shook her head at the Auri woman almost imperceptibly, eyes placating, and she nodded slightly in mildly disappointed understanding. She supposed she would need to share some of her best tea with Yugiri soon as well; perhaps before their next origami lesson.

"I need a few minutes in my chambers first — but, certainly," the Warrior answered her, smiling slightly nervously.

Oh, something did happen, didn't it? Tataru could hardly stand the wait! But she happily agreed, and the four of them went their separate ways, Alphinaud and Yugiri remaining in the hall in hopes of finding ways they could assist the House Fortemps knights, and Tataru and the Warrior heading down the winding halls to their guest quarters. The Warrior had a much larger stride than Tataru did, and hurried on ahead towards her chambers, leaving Tataru arriving alone at her own room to begin preparing a pot of her special tea blend.

Just as her teapot had come to a boil, been taken off the burner and had nearly enough time to steep, the Warrior of Light rapped gently at Tataru's door.

"Come in, come in," she said eagerly, sitting up straight where she was seated. She had taken a space-saving tip from Yugiri and set out two plush cushions on the floor for them to take their tea in what she'd learned was the Doman fashion.

The Warrior entered, looking shy, rather poorly attempting to conceal a smile. Tataru gestured eagerly to the cushion across from her, and her friend sat, knees bent and legs folded at her side.

"Well, don't keep me in suspense," the Lalafell said, unable to suppress her curiosity any longer. "Was there a pressing reason you might have shared a celebratory breakfast alone with Lord Haurchefant when your victory in training was last evening?" she asked innocently, batting her eyelashes.

As instant response, much to Tataru's great interest, a flush spread across the Warrior of Light's cheeks.

"Perhaps," she admitted, not quite making eye contact, but smiling down at her lap.

"Ohhhhh," Tataru warbled in delight. "Tell me, tell me! I'll have your cup of tea right away," she said in a rush, going to pour their tea into a pair of matching pink floral teacups she'd brought with her from the Waking Sands. A delightful floral scent wafted into the air as she poured.

"Well..." the Warrior began, gratefully taking her teacup as it was handed to her. "You were quite right. Haurchefant is very fond of me," she said, still smiling.

Tataru gasped. "Then you told him? About how you feel about him?"

She nodded, turning even pinker, taking a small sip from her still-hot teacup, slurping it slightly to cool it down.

"And??" the Lalafell pressed, voice lilting up excitedly. "Don't tell me he was so thrilled to hear it, and you so charmed by his confession of affections most similar, that you spent the night together?"

The Warrior of Light was fairly scarlet at this point as she nodded again slowly.

Tataru breathed in slowly, then intoned her name with a teasing hint of scandal. "Oh, I am simply so happy for you... how was it?" she asked, eyes twinkling. Oh, she didn't want to know all the explicit details, but — well, the many enthusiastic conversations with Momodi of the Adventurer's Guild she'd been drawn into about how men reportedly measured up against one another may have rubbed off on her a bit. She hoped for her friend's sake that Lord Haurchefant was even half as giving in romantic settings as he seemed to ever be in all other arenas of life.

The Warrior sputtered on a sip of her tea, then took another with widened eyes. Oh, perhaps I've teased her too much...

"...Well," her friend began, setting her teacup back on its saucer. Tataru topped it up, waiting on her next word with bated breath. "If you must know, I am still reeling," she laughed. "Tataru, I can hardly believe a man like him even exists."

Tataru grinned at her before taking another sip of her tea. "That is wonderful news," she gushed. "Oh, I am truly so happy for you both! Our light of hope and our most loyal ally, finding love between them even in these dark times..." She noticed the Warrior trying somewhat ineffectively to hide behind her cup and saucer, and Tataru sank inward herself, slightly embarrassed she'd gotten so caught up in the moment. "Well, I suppose you didn't say it was love, but..."

"...No," her friend replied, in a small, shy voice. "I think it very well may be."

Tataru's heart shone with vicarious joy at these words, so glad was she to see her dear friend finding happiness, the Warrior so lit up from the inside in a way she hadn't seen on her even before the tragedy that had recently befallen them.

As she offered her congratulations, the Warrior opening up and telling her about how he'd cared for her, preparing her hot cocoa from scratch, drawing her a bath in the morning, making her breakfast — "He can cook, too?" she had gasped in shock as her friend told her how uncommonly delicious it had been — and fetching her a clean change of clothes, Tataru found her already high opinion of Lord Haurchefant somehow skyrocketing further.

"He... expressed his intent to remain solely devoted to me, too," the Warrior said, looking absolutely lovestruck. "Tataru, you might not believe this, but I've never been in a serious relationship before," she said with a nervous laugh. "I am... so happy, but it's all so overwhelming."

Tataru was somewhat surprised, but she could believe it. She'd never seen the Warrior of Light make time for romantic indulgences, instead she'd observed her rather deftly rejecting gentleman callers on many occasions; though their prior conversations had conveyed that she had most certainly had dalliances in her past.

"Of course he did," Tataru assured her, smiling sympathetically, then addressing her by name. "You are the Warrior of Light. You saved Lord Haurchefant's childhood friend, protected his men, his nation. He spends hours every day with you. If he didn't want to solely devote himself to you, I would have to drag myself to the Pugilist's Guild in Ul'dah after our names have been cleared so I could learn how to show him what for."

The Warrior laughed brightly, setting her empty teacup down on its saucer with a clink. "Please don't," she said through giggles, and Tataru laughed along with her.

They caught their breath, and the Lalafellin woman looked up at her friend with a look of compassion and understanding. "I am sure you will do just fine," she assured her. "You have all the time in the world to figure things out, together. And if he ever pressures you into anything, if things move too quickly for you—"

Her friend laughed, a sly grin creeping across her face. "If things moved too quickly, I was most certainly the one to blame," she said, twinkling eyes meeting Tataru's excitedly scandalized own. "But, yes. If that happens, I'll tell him. I trust him," she concluded, sinking back onto her palms with a sigh. " Twelve, Tataru, I feel as though I may be utterly useless all day. Is there aught I should be busying myself with? This storm seems most dire, but from what I overheard in the halls on my way here, it seems the knights have things well in hand."

Tataru giggled, setting down her cup next to the now-empty teapot. "Perhaps you should go see if Lord Haurchefant requires your assistance? Though I fear he may find your presence most distracting," she grinned, and the Warrior raised her eyebrows and scratched the back of her neck, feigning innocence. "You do so much for everyone all the time. I think you deserve to let yourself lay about and daydream and sigh a bit, hmm?"

She laughed, letting out a long breath. "Well, I suppose that is probably about all I'll be good for today regardless," she conceded. "Thank you for the tea, Tataru, it was delicious as always." Her friend sat up as if going to leave, but then started, apparently remembering something. "Oh, and if you wouldn't mind... please don't tell anyone outside the Scions about Haurchefant and myself? Neither of us want to keep it a secret, but... he tells me politics in Ishgard are as such that being open about it at this current point in time may make it more difficult for us to access resources that may help us find our missing friends," she added with a grimace.

Tataru's face fell. "Whyever would it... Oh," she said with a tone of realization, bringing a small hand to her lips. "Because he is a Greystone?" she asked delicately. The Warrior nodded. Tataru sighed, nodding also. "Very well, I won't tell a soul outside the most discreet of us Scions — excepting perhaps Yugiri, though she is one of us in all but name at this point. Accursed politics, I swear," she muttered.

"It is alright," her friend shrugged, seeming bolstered by Tataru's understanding and shared frustration. "It is only temporary, and it does not change... us," she said with a smile, hand pressed to her chest as if soothing the ache of her heart. The final word fell from her lips as if the shape of it were unfamiliar, yet incredibly dear to her. Tataru nearly swooned with secondhand yearning.

"No, I suppose it does not," she smiled, leaning her whole body forward to place a small hand on the Warrior's own. "Thank you for joining me for tea. Now go on, enjoy falling in love with your handsome knight," she tittered.

The Warrior smiled back at her proudly, her cheeks yet pink, and then excused herself.

Tataru collapsed backwards onto her large Elezen-sized cushion with a sigh, eyes closing happily. Ah, such a wonderful thing, the Warrior of Light finding love... and a precious secret for Tataru to keep, to hint at, to divulge only when necessary. A part of her reveled in the thrill of being trusted with such secret knowledge, that those she cared about knew they were in safe hands. Well. She would certainly be having quite the lively tea with Yugiri tonight, wouldn't she.

Haurchefant Greystone was most grateful that when he had arrived at his post late this morning, his trusted second and third-in-command, Corentiaux and Yaelle, seemed to have most tasks pertaining to the storm well in hand. Despite his late arrival, all that he seemed to need to handle once he got there was observing his knights reporting to Yaelle and Corentiaux, who either quickly dispatched them or sent them in to warm by the hearth as needed.

"Are the chocobos tethered and blanketed, with plenty to eat?" He'd asked near immediately, having spotted a rider on his way in with a mount that looked nearly frozen. It instantly made him fret about his own fine black chocobo.

"Yes, milord," Ser Yaelle said with a curt nod. "Worry not, our birds have been tended to in rotations since this storm began."

"And the scouts dispatched for Ishgard at midday — did they reach the city safely?"

"They saw the storm coming and returned to us before it hit in full force, my lord," she replied. "The blizzard still rages too strongly for us to relay communications outside of camp. Squadrons were dispatched to settlements in our surrounding territories to ensure the safety of our people, yet all anyone can do beyond these walls is hunker down and wait out the storm."

Haurchefant nodded, chin on his hand, legs crossed in his commander's seat, considering. "Good, good. 'Tis as I'd expected. And there are no pressing crises?"

Yaelle met him with a nearly deadpan stare. "...No, milord, not outside this room."

Haurchefant blinked, spine prickling most curiously at her words. "...Whatever do you mean?" he asked nearly hesitantly, frowning.

Ser Corentiaux swept across the room, having just sent another squadron to rest and warm by the hearths in the barracks. "What she means, my lord, with all due respect, is that we are up to our ears in supply requisition forms and other paperwork requiring your authority to process, thanks to this disaster requiring us to empty much of our frankly already dwindling stores. This," he gestured to one of his knights, who brought over a towering stack of papers and set it in front of Haurchefant. It was so heavy that it made an audible soft thunk as it landed atop his desk. "Is more or less a crisis, one that only you can deal with, Lord Haurchefant."

Oh. Oh dear. So much for his hopeful thoughts of spending the day occupied with bolstering their defenses or even tending their birds, anything physical to work out the surge of bright energy still running through him, the Warrior of Light's brilliant smile for him still flashing at the back of his eyelids every time he blinked — instead he seemed to have found himself in a situation most dire.

Haurchefant sighed and reached for his quill. "Well, I can scarcely refuse to help where I am needed, can I?"

Ser Corentiaux watched his commander tackle the stack of paperwork before him with a hawk's keen eye. His lord, keen as he surely was to serve him, was ever lacking in enthusiasm when it came to doing mundane tasks such as this. The man, in a tendency perhaps not befitting the responsibility he shouldered, but one that was noble all the same, seemed to much prefer facing risk of death in combat, or otherwise doing menial tasks better left to low-ranking knights, to simply doling out signatures.

It was curious, then, that though his lord had seemed reluctant to begin this task, he now observed Lord Haurchefant smiling to himself as he wrote out elegant signature after signature, eyes lidding in an almost dopey fashion.

He frowned, furrowing his brow in Ser Yaelle's direction. The woman met him with a curious tilt of her head, then followed his gaze to watch the commander as well.

Yaelle frowned too, a soft wrinkle appearing between her brows. Her eyes flicked back up across the room to Corentiaux, and he tilted his head questioningly. She tilted hers back, then shrugged.

Well, Lord Haurchefant had always held his vast number of eccentricities, but he was a truly good commander, and deeply kind to all who worked and visited at Camp Dragonhead. As long as he did his work, Corentiaux supposed, such trivially odd behavior need not be questioned.

So, he kept watch, directing knights as they reported to him, checking back in every now and then to make sure his lord was progressing steadily through his work.

And, well... he was, it seemed, although in curious fits and starts. Nearly a bell passed and the stack barely shortened half an ilm; a mere five minutes passed after that and the stack of completed documents had more than doubled in height, Haurchefant's face filled with intense determination, a hint of a hazy smirk upon his lips as he methodically tore through the work handed to him with an uncommon passion Corentiaux rarely saw from his commander when he was simply sat behind a desk all day. Ten minutes later, he was audibly sighing, idly dragging his finger along the grain of the wood surface of his desk, face flushed, eyes focused on nothing in particular.

He looked at Yaelle, who was, in turn, already looking at him, scowling curiously.

What is he doing? she mouthed.

I don't know, he mouthed back at her.

Truly, he suspected his lord's state may, as seemed to be the case rather often as of late, have something to do with the amount of time he'd been dedicating to training the Warrior of Light. Only he and Yaelle knew that they had been training together, a fact they'd been sworn to secrecy on for the sake of preventing the Warrior's training from becoming a spectator sport.

Yet, well. He would not dare to presume, loyal as he and his family had ever been to House Fortemps; but Corentiaux had long noticed the way his lord looked at that certain adventurer. Eorzea's hero, or she had been such until rather recently, always seemed to catch Lord Haurchefant's eye, and to come first in his priorities and plans whenever possible. The time he and several of his fellow knights had to physically hold him down to prevent him from joining her to fight Iceheart oft haunted Corentiaux's memory. His lord's fondness of the woman had only become all the more obvious once she'd come to stay with them at Camp Dragonhead for these past weeks. It was often that he or Yaelle spotted him staring longingly off into the distance between tasks, or else brooding with obvious concern that he quickly brushed off when questioned about.

But something about his distraction seemed different today. More intense; and his commander seemed... well, in all honesty, quite sated and pleased.

Yaelle was called away abruptly by a pressing issue with one of her squadrons at the chirurgeons' lodgings — evidently some kind of structural damage requiring more bodies to shield tradesmen from the worst of the cold as they repaired it — and so Corentiaux found himself alone with an alternately very focused and very distracted commander.

Eventually the sound of his lord's intermittent sighs bothered him so much that he reluctantly gave in to his curiosity and broached the subject tactfully.

"...Milord? You seem to be in... quite a state this day."

"Ah! Ah, well, yes..." Haurchefant trailed off, seemingly considering his words. Corentiaux braced himself, hoping his rather indulgent commander would not share something he rather wished not to hear. Why did I pry?

"I had the most thrilling training session with the Warrior of Light yesterday evening, you see," he began, blue eyes glinting with enthusiasm, pale cheeks tinted with a rather healthy glow. Corentiaux had a feeling that perhaps their session may have not entirely consisted of training.

"It continues to go well, then?"

His commander nodded. "Indeed — she defeated me, in fact," he said almost dreamily. "I have never met one so seemingly born to wield a blade."

"Defeated you, my lord?" The knight asked his commander with a mild tone of incredulity. "In these short few weeks? Have you gone easy on her?"

"Quite to the contrary — she has requested, nay, demanded I work her relentlessly hard in our training," Haurchefant insisted with a tone of admiration. "She is simply that talented, that utterly dedicated to honing her abilities. A finer ally House Fortemps could not dare ask for," he gushed, resting his tilted head atop his palm, elbow propped up against the surface of his desk.

"...That is most impressive," Corentiaux conceded, pointedly ignoring his commander's lovelorn gazing at nothing in particular. He could not help but feel a small pang of jealousy, at hearing her skills praised so highly. He had seen her fight before, wielding strange foreign magicks — she did possess overwhelming power. Yet he'd worked tirelessly for years to prove his superiority in combat against his fellow House Fortemps knights, and Lord Haurchefant's defeat yet remained something well out of his capabilities. "I cannot help but wish to test my own blade against her as well, if milord permits it," he confessed.

Haurchefant met him with a knowing twinkle in his eye. "Her training in private shall continue for a bit yet, however I am all but certain that could be arranged," he said, clenching his fist eagerly. "She is certainly most eager to test her skills against worthy opponents, and you and Ser Yaelle are my finest. I have no doubt your unique style will pose her a most compelling challenge. It is truly a joy to face her in combat," he sighed contentedly at this, and it was all Corentiaux could do to not roll his eyes.

If something had occurred between Lord Haurchefant and the clear object of his affections... well, who was he to raise any objections? The man always seemed to struggle in love, becoming enamored with travelers who left Coerthas soon after he'd fallen for them. And being illegitimate, lasting relationships with his fellow Ishgardians would be difficult, he presumed.

The Warrior of Light was, in his estimation, a good woman — eagerly reporting to Haurchefant or himself to help aid House Fortemps in its every little task when she had the spare time. She seemed rather exceptionally fond of his lord in her own respect, although it was difficult for Corentiaux to tell whether this fondness extended past deep friendship. And, the plan remained to grant her entrance to Ishgard, where she might remain for quite some time, at least until her honorable name was cleared.

Ser Corentiaux's gaze once again returned to his commander, who was idly thumbing the edges of his stack of remaining paperwork, looking for all the world like he'd fallen deeply in love with his nearby inkwell.

"...My lord," he began, and Lord Haurchefant snapped out of his reverie to look up at him. "Pleased as I am to see you in such high spirits, these papers before you do require aught more attention than simply... caressing," he said with a frown. His lord looked down at his hand rather sheepishly, immediately withdrawing it to the edge of the table.

"Yes... yes, quite," Lord Haurchefant mumbled apologetically, running a hand back through his hair in an attempt to restore his focus.

The knight chose his next words carefully. Broaching such topics directly would be improper and likely detrimental, and quite frankly Corentiaux did not wish to have an open discussion with his commander about such things in the first place. Yet...

"Lord Haurchefant," Corentiaux added. "It has been... quite well to see you in possession of such high morale as of late. I do hope whatever has brought you this boost of energy continues to do so."

His lord's eyebrows shot up, mouth opening slightly in surprise. Then he smiled, eyes downcast, looking fond — a look Corentiaux assumed was certainly not meant for him.

"Thank you, Corentiaux," he said softly. "I rather hope so too."

The knight watched, pleased, as his commander dutifully returned to the stack of papers before him, tackling it with renewed focus. And if said focus then wavered here and there, his lord letting out more contented sighs from time to time? Corentiaux supposed he would simply bear it. Ensuring the well-being of those whom he served was a knight's duty, after all.

The Warrior of Light lay sprawled on her bed in her quarters, turning the fine bronze key in her hands. Its handle, engraved carefully with the unicorn crest of House Fortemps, immediately brought to mind what such a gift symbolized.

Haurchefant wanted to bring her into his home — both the one he'd earned for himself here at Camp Dragonhead, and the one he'd been born into in the Holy See of Ishgard. In a way, she had already been a guest in his home for the past handful of weeks — and on other occasions besides.

But this was different. Special. Intimate in a way she'd never been with anyone save for family.

Was it too soon? They'd only just shared their first kiss, their first night together, their first confession of growing feelings... And yet, looking at this key, given to her from an earnest, ardent Haurchefant, with his insistence that she feel welcome but need not feel pressured to use it just yet if she wasn't ready... she could not think of aught else besides entering his quarters once more and being wrapped up in those strong arms and held like something precious.

Perhaps it was foolish. Perhaps she was a fool. She clutched the key to her chest, sighing. The storm yet raged outside. No word from Urianger about her missing companions could come this day, and the knights whom she'd offered to help had told her that they had things under control and her assistance was not needed. So all she could think about was him — how he'd treated her with patient love and care, how he'd matched her passion and then some, how their one night together had given her so many memories she would surely never forget.

When could she see him again?

"Thou hast entangled thyself with the sons of Ishgard, I see," a deep, echoing voice spoke into her mind, shocking herself out of her dreaming. She bolted upright, reaching for her grimoire, only to see the diminutive apparition of Midgardsormr hovering at her bedside, his inscrutable face seeming to meet her with judgment. "Though the Dragonsong may pause briefly betwixt verses, destruction lieth ever close at hand, mortal. Shall thee and thine chosen kin, enemy of my children, be consumed by its flames?"

She opened her mouth to speak words of defiance — but as swiftly as he'd appeared, the great wyrm was gone, leaving her alone in her quarters with an unsettling chill running through her.

In her weeks of comfort and companionship here, she'd almost forgotten about the Father of Dragons, his disembodied essence seemingly bound to her soul somehow in Hydaelyn's blessing's place. He had not deigned to appear before her since shortly after Moenbryda's passing, and had somehow become one of the last of her worries in the ensuing chaos.

She had most certainly not forgotten she'd lost the Blessing of Light, however — it was one of her motivations for wishing to learn to defend, so she could protect those close to her even without Hydaelyn's empowerment. Though Minfilia was the only one who yet knew of this — she feared if she told anyone else they may view her differently, or else sink deeper into despair.

She supposed Haurchefant deserved to know — of how she had been weakened, of how she now fought to compensate for the strength of which she had been forcibly stripped. But he was of Ishgard, and the thought of him hearing how the eldest of wyrms had spoken to her, continued to have his eye on her, testing her... It was largely indistinguishable from the heresy his people fought tirelessly and often brutally to eradicate.

He would surely understand that she was no heretic, she believed without a doubt — but would the knowledge endanger him, engender fears and doubts about their safety within him? Breathing deeply, slipping his precious key into the pocket of her trousers once more, she found that, no; she did not need to shoulder him with this burden now.

Between Midgardsormr's ominous, threatening words she found a glimmer of hope — "though the Dragonsong may pause briefly betwixt verses" — did this perhaps portend that the Dravanians may soon withdraw their assault for a time?

Either way, the fact that he had deigned to remark on her connection to Haurchefant of all things deeply unsettled her. Rising to her feet, clenching her fists at her sides, she found a deep-rooted defiance burning through her.

The Father of Dragons intended to test her — this she'd known, and she had been resolved to rise to his challenge from the first. But if... if anyone, even the greatest, most fearsome of dragons, even the entirety of Nidhogg's brood, dared to threaten Haurchefant... She nearly shook with rage at the mere thought.

Yes. Yes, she would redouble her training on the morrow. Whatever came once she left the safety of the shelter her dearest lover had afforded her — she would see herself attain the strength to face it, with or without Hydaelyn's gifts.

The bell for evening meal sounded in the distance, its echo tugging the Warrior out of the wave of intense feeling that had coursed through her in the wyrm lord's wake.

All was yet well here within these walls, regardless of what may await in the future. Her dear friends, and possibly the man who now held her heart, would be gathering soon to share another lively dinner.

She took a deep breath, holding the memory of Haurchefant's slow, passionate kiss clear in her mind — his gentle hand on her cheek, his eyes holding a wondering affection that filled her chest with a bolstering warmth.

She would choose to believe, to not give into doubt. How could she let such shake her when her heart felt so light thinking of him, a smile spreading across her warming cheeks all on its own? Oh, she hoped he would join them for supper, that his duties did not call him away this evening. Quickly fixing her hair in the nearby mirror, she left her quarters, defiant hope in her heart.

Chapter Text

When the Warrior of Light sat herself down for supper at the Scions' usual table in the dining hall, she found herself met with the rather mirthful faces of the two women here that she called both friends and allies. Tataru's rather smug expression was expected; but it seemed she must have indeed informed Yugiri as well, as the Au Ra met her with smiling eyes and a slight pinkness to her pale cheeks.

Tataru cleared her throat, looking around them. Alphinaud was still in line to be doled out the evening's rations, and Haurchefant was yet nowhere to be seen (much to the Warrior's suppressed longing). She met the Warrior's eye with a small smirk and asked, "Have you seen your rather splendid friend again today?" and the Warrior sputtered, nearly making a mess of her mouthful of warm cider.

She shook her head, gathering herself. "No... I think the storm has kept all of the knights rather busy," she replied rather sheepishly, biting into her bread.

"I see," Tataru sighed. "A pity. Perhaps he will join us anon."

The Warrior nodded, eyeing the pair of them as she swallowed, turning to the elegant shinobi. "...What exactly did she tell you, Yugiri?"

"Ah," the Auri woman breathed, surprised. "...Simply that you and... someone... are now rather close," she said tactfully, appearing shy. "I-I had admittedly discerned that your rivalry had become rather intense," she continued, fretting with the end of one of her sleeves. "My deepest congratulations on your victory," she added, eyes twinkling with pride.

The Warrior of Light suppressed the sudden urge to slump over the table and bury her face in her arms out of embarrassment. Being teased by Tataru was well within her expectations, but such a sincere and forthright congratulations from the proper, formal Yugiri made her feel rather flustered.

"A-ah... thank you," she muttered quietly, sinking her face low into her mug as she drank. "How did your efforts go today, Yugiri? Had the knights no work for you either?"

Yugiri shook her head, seeming disappointed. "No, none for one such as I. Instead I busied myself instructing Tataru in further Doman origami techniques - our art of paper folding. She seems to be taking to it quite well," she added with a proud smile, glancing at Tataru, who, the Warrior now noticed, wore a beautiful paper flower of some kind tucked behind one pointed ear.

The Warrior smiled as she noticed it, and Tataru grinned. "I'm malms away from matching Yugiri's skill, but working with my hands is rather fun. Also, it lets me indulge my rather persistent fantasy of magically transforming all the paperwork at the Rising Stones into pretty little flowers. Poof! All gone," she mimed performing some kind of flashy magic spell, and the Warrior couldn't help but chuckle. Tataru sighed. "Though of course I would gladly bury myself in the Scions' missives once again at the soonest opportunity."

The Warrior and Yugiri both nodded somewhat solemnly. A return to their days at the Rising Stones was something the Warrior longed for every spare moment she had to think of it — the precious time they had felt on top of the world, like they were truly saving — had saved — the whole of Eorzea. If it was not for her time spent with Haurchefant, she was sure she would have spent far more of her days worrying after her lost companions and brooding over past mistakes. Instead she'd found herself, after doing all she could each day, trying her best to put her concerns over the past aside and build towards a hopeful future.

"Well," Tataru said a bit nervously, filling the air, "I suppose this stew won't eat itself."

Just as the Lalafell ladled a spoonful into her mouth, Alphinaud came and sat down beside the Warrior of Light on her side of the bench seating. Uncharacteristic for the talkative young Elezen, he simply began immediately filling up on bread and stew, looking somewhat displeased.

"Alphinaud?" Tataru asked, looking up from her own dish. "Are you alright?"

"...wouldn't let me help," he mumbled between bites, dabbing his lips with his napkin. "I am not a child," he groused, taking a sip of warm milk.

"Alphinaud, they didn't let me help either," the Warrior said with a light laugh, touching her hand to the young man's shoulder in a reassuring gesture. "I think the Ishgardians simply know what to do in the event of a storm."

Alphinaud looked at her, blinked, and then flushed, shrinking into himself somewhat. "...Oh. I see," he said nervously. "Well, now I feel rather foolish."

The Warrior shook her head. "No, to be rather honest, I was equally frustrated." She patted his shoulder before removing her hand, and he seemed a bit relieved. "I am sure there will be plenty of cleanup for us to help with once the storm is over; we should best prepare and build up our strength, I think."

The young Elezen nodded, expression serious. "Yes... yes I think that is wise."

They ate quietly for a few minutes, the youngest Scion's tension dissipating as they shared friendly glances.

"Oh," Alphinaud exclaimed softly, seeming pleased, his head swiveling away from the group. The Warrior turned to follow his gaze, and felt a warmth spread through her chest at the welcome sight. "Lord Haurchefant seems to be joining us after all."

The tall Elezen knight had just barely pushed through the doorway. His pale blue hair was yet dusted in fresh snowfall, the tips of his ears and nose pink from the cold. He glanced towards the Scions' table immediately, and Alphinaud waved — but his gaze went immediately to the Warrior. The look on his face when their eyes met was so bright and beaming, she could not help but grin back with delight herself. She watched as Haurchefant took a step towards them before apparently realizing that, yes, he did still need to get his food. He inclined his head politely and waved back to Alphinaud, then ducked into the meal line.

Tataru sighed dreamily, making her companions all turn to look. "Oh, 'tis nothing like fresh baked bread and butter," she dismissed quickly, taking another bite; but her eyes twinkled with mirth as she spoke, looking at the Warrior.

Honestly, she thought, Tataru is going to be absolutely insufferable about this, isn't she. Yet the Warrior still felt light as she continued to eat, knowing that Haurchefant would soon join them.

When he finally slipped in to sit on the bench beside her, setting his tray next to hers, she felt a tingling of warmth.

"Finally," Haurchefant sighed as he sat, fixing his messy hair as he made himself comfortable, leaning an elbow against the table. "I had begun to fear this day may never end," he said, meeting the Warrior with a slanted smile. "'Tis good to now be in such good company — hot food, warm faces," he gushed, looking around at the group, who met him with welcoming looks. "Are you all faring well?" he asked, glancing at the Warrior out of the corner of her eye.

"Aye," Yugiri answered, the rest of them nodding.

"Too well for Alphinaud's comfort, I fear," Tataru laughed, causing him to gasp indignantly.

The Warrior laughed as well. "And for mine, to be most honest. I was rather hoping to be called upon to assist with the storm, as was he and Yugiri, I fear."

Haurchefant sighed, smiling sympathetically. "As was I, as a matter of fact — instead I spent the day behind a rather monstrous stack of paperwork," he lamented. "My knights have become too efficient for my own good, I fear. I hope you all found sufficient diversions to occupy yourselves with?"

"Most definitely," Tataru replied, her eyes twinkling knowingly. "Days like these are perfect for sharing tea and secrets," she said happily, before taking another bite.

Haurchefant gave the Warrior a subtle glance, his eyes on hers widening just enough to communicate a question — the Warrior squinted and smiled slightly in response, and his face softened.

Did you tell her?

Yes, my apologies in advance.

Ah... I am rather glad you did.

"I think you shall fit right in in Ishgard, Mistress Tataru," Haurchefant laughed, spreading his napkin across his lap. The Lalafell smiled, seeming rather pleased.

"Oh, speaking of Ishgard," Alphinaud spoke up, setting down his spoon and leaning forward so the knight could more easily see him on the other side of the Warrior. "Lord Haurchefant, has there been any word of how the Holy See is weathering the storm? The weeks of attacks yet continue, and now this? I must admit I harbor no small amount of concern."

The knight nodded, thoughtfully considering. "It may be some days before messengers can safely reach us from Ishgard, but it is my hope that this storm is offering a brief respite from the ongoing Dravanian attacks on our lands neighboring the Holy See," he offered. "The Horde may be rather impervious to extreme cold in ways that even we resourceful Ishgardians are not, but most assuredly even they cannot keep up with such harsh winds and poor visibility. I only hope that the brave men and women holding the front lines have found shelter to weather the storm within."

The younger Elezen nodded seriously. "I shall share your hopes, then," he concluded, and Haurchefant met him with a smile.

They shared a bit more small talk as they ate — Tataru and Alphinaud somehow winding up in a rather lively discussion about equitable distribution of diplomatic and administrative duties, brought on by Haurchefant's mention of all the papers he'd just been made to sort through — and the Warrior could feel herself warming up from the inside as she ate, not just from the meal in her belly. Haurchefant's fingers momentarily brushed her thigh as he brought his hand to his side, a spark running through her at even the slight incidental contact. Her eyes flicked to his, the two of them sharing a glance then quickly averting their eyes for propriety's sake.

"Ah, yes," Haurchefant said, their meals largely finished at this point. "Did our friend tell you that she defeated me head-on in an all-out sparring match yesterday evening? I daresay there is precious little remaining to teach her," he gushed, looking over at her with a gaze of immense pride. She flushed, smiling widely in a way she hoped only communicated her own pride at her victory.

"She did," Alphinaud replied, brightening, and the others nodded, seeming equally pleased. "I believe I speak for all of us when I say that I cannot wait to see your new skills in action," he said, turning to the Warrior, who grinned. The white-haired Elezen turned back to Haurchefant. "'Tis, once again, ever so generous for you to offer us your time in this way," he said, inclining his head deferently. "The Scions of the Seventh Dawn will truly never forget how you have aided us in our time of greatest need."

Haurchefant shook his head, waving a hand in the air dismissively, though his face displayed clearly that he was rather touched. "And it is the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, and the Warrior of Light, who have aided Ishgard and House Fortemps in their times of greatest need. 'Tis no sacrifice of mine, I assure you. If anything, my motivations border on selfish," he added with a mischievous smirk, leaning in and glancing at the Warrior out of the corner of his eye. "Me? Pass up the chance to train with the Warrior of Light? Perish the thought."

Alphinaud laughed, the formal respect he persistently showed... well, everyone, peeling back a bit. "Nevertheless, I am full glad to know that you are ever a true friend to us," he admitted, smiling warmly. "We have been... shamefully short on true friends lately, largely owing to my own inexperience," he sighed.

Haurchefant opened his mouth to protest, undoubtedly to offer words of inspiration to young Alphinaud, but the boy shook his head.

"You needn't worry," he assured the knight, lifting his mug in his small hand. "I was only stating the truth of things to illustrate my gratitude — our gratitude, I am certain."

The Warrior watched as he met Alphinaud with a warm, caring smile. "Then, Master Alphinaud, I suppose I shall humbly accept your gratitude... and further insist that the sentiment remains quite mutual, my friends."

The kind way Haurchefant treated Alphinaud in particular always made the Warrior of Light feel rather comforted and fond towards him, but she found that now, the rush of affection was such that she felt moved to express it. As the other Scions smiled at their exchange and returned to chatting amicably, the Warrior quietly, hesitantly brought her hand to rest atop Haurchefant's nearby thigh. His lips parted softly in surprise and his eyes flitted over to hers, and she met him with a fond, appreciative smile. His eyes went downcast, long lashes covering narrowing warm blues in that lovely way in which his smiles always reached his eyes, and he placed his hand atop hers, squeezing gently.

None could see this gesture, hidden as their hands were by the edge of the table, and from Alphinaud by the rest of the Warrior herself — but perhaps they could see how the Warrior's face flushed lightly with warmth, how her body relaxed, subtly inclining towards his, or how he did very much the same. If they did see, they did not seem to pay it any mind — even Tataru now blessedly being quite engaged in relaying a silly anecdote about their friend Urianger.

The necessities of dining tore the warmth of his hand away from her far too soon, much to her dismay, yet the rest of their meal passed pleasantly, five friends sharing stories and enjoying one another's company.

As they all rose to go clear their places, Haurchefant lingered behind, the Warrior following suit and standing next to him in the long file of people going to return their meal trays.

"How are you, my friend? You seem... well," he said, speaking softly, gaze warm upon her.

"I am," she replied, smiling warmly. "Perhaps a bit restless from spending all day indoors, but otherwise... very well," she insisted, eyes breaking away from his nearly demurely. Behaving tactfully in his presence was proving to be surprisingly rather difficult. Things as simple as just the friendly way he looked at her had, apparently, long concealed deep affection that she now found obvious with every glance. She most definitely was not about to just kiss him in the middle of all of these people, yet the mere fact that he was now here beside her caused her to feel drawn closer to him, an impulse she had to consciously try to resist.

"That is gladdening," he responded, eyes narrowing in a smile.

"And you?" she asked, stepping forward in line with him as it moved along.

"Quite the same as you, I would say," he replied, with an incline of his head. "Would that I had less paperwork to mind so that I could have joined you in some indoor training."

"Mm," she nodded, considering. "Well... first thing tomorrow morning, I shall be there as always."

Haurchefant smiled, seeming pleased — then the line picked up, and they handed over their trays.

"My door is always open to you, my friend," he said softly, before a couple of the other Scions approached them, and he waved a farewell and made for the exit.

As she walked with Tataru and Yugiri back to the womens' guest quarters, her mind couldn't help but wander to the key in her pocket.

After she'd taken her evening shower, she still could not stop considering it. Was it too soon? Would it not look conspicuous, if she joined Haurchefant in his chambers for a second night in a row? Freshly toweled off from her washing, drawstring bag of dirty clothes in her arms, she wandered with a furrowed brow back towards her quarters.

A sudden soft exclamation of her name from below her startled the Warrior out of her ponderings.

"Whatever are you still doing here?" Tataru asked, hands on hips, then spoke in a hushed whisper, eyebrows raising scandalously. "Why aren't you off with your handsome Elezen lover?"

The Warrior flushed, bringing a hand to the bridge of her nose in embarrassment. "Tataru," she groaned, getting a mischievous chuckle in response. She sighed, addressing her more seriously. "I mean, I could, but... would it not seem rather obvious?"

"Oh, well if that's your concern, I can gladly cover for you," the shorter woman offered cheerfully. "If Alphinaud or anyone else asks any questions, I will be sure to have an appropriate cover story. Not just now, but any time you need, of course. Would that ease your silly worried mind?"

The Warrior blinked. Would it? Yes... yes, she rather found that it would. The part of her that protested that she'd never done this before, never had a real relationship, didn't have a way of knowing whether they were moving too fast or not... suddenly seemed much less convincing now that her practical concerns were dealt with. How much longer did she have here in Camp Dragonhead, anyway? A mere handful of weeks at most? If she did not spend this time exploring what lay between them, discovering what it all meant... surely, once she'd been drawn into whatever inevitable conflict awaited them in Ishgard, she knew she would regret it.

The Warrior smiled gratefully and nodded, Tataru beaming up at her. "Yes, it would. Thank you, Tataru."

Shooed along by a supportive friend, the Warrior of Light returned to her room to gather a few of her things.

Haurchefant Greystone, warm and comfortable out of the shower, wrapped in his cozy bathing robe, found himself laying back on his sofa and sighing to himself.

Despite what he'd told the Warrior — and sincerely meant — that she needn't feel pressured to use the gift he'd given her, and could take things at her own pace... his hurried, lovestricken heart had wondered all day whether she might join him again this evening. The warmth she'd shown him at supper had gotten him hoping, yet their untimely interruption by the other Scions had prevented her from giving him a clear answer, if she'd intended to.

He slumped down further on the sofa and buried his nose in the neckline of his robe — ah, it yet smells like her, he realized, to his delight.

Oh, he was hopeless. They had time to take this slow — even if some miracle occurred and the attacks on the city ended tomorrow, he doubted clearing the now undoubtably ruined paths into Ishgard would take less than a week.

It would be alright if she did not come, he knew and accepted this... he would still see her first thing in the morning. But how fruitful would their training truly be, now that he had all this pent-up longing to get out of his system? He sighed again, reclining fully, the sofa just long enough for his long legs, his crossed ankles supported by the armrest on its far end. The indulgent ridiculousness of spending his time ruminating over when he would next see his dearest lover did not escape him, and he cherished the state. Oh, what a splendid predicament to find myself in...

Suddenly, his sensitive Elezen ears picked up a sound akin to footsteps beyond the doorway. His eyes snapped open, and he strained his ears to listen more closely, but... no, he heard nothing more. Had he imagined it?

But just as he'd sighed softly and relaxed back down into the sofa, he heard the unmistakable click of a key in the doorknob. Nearly bolting upright, eyes wide, his smile widened and his chest expanded as he watched the door open.

The Warrior of Light entered, dressed in light clothing, her pack slung over one shoulder. She met him with a sheepish smile, raising a hand in greeting.

She'd come. Oh, she'd really come.

He called out her name as he rose to his feet and approached her.

"Haurchefant," she tilted her head in acknowledgement, looking him over fondly. "I... I hope it's alright that I took you up on this offer so soon?"

He nodded adamantly. "Yes. Truthfully, I had rather hoped you would," he breathed in a sigh of relief, cupping the side of her head in his large palm. She tilted her head into it, closing her eyes as she smiled — ah, and there his heart went again, beating firmly with affection. "Welcome home."

She opened her eyes and truly beamed at him — he could not help it, he found himself leaning down towards her, tilting her chin up to offer her a kiss. She rose up on her toes and met him halfway, to his utter delight, and the warmth that spread through him even at the chaste touch of her soft lips against his made that of his blazing hearth pale in comparison.

Their lips parted, eyes opening, and the Warrior adjusted her pack on her shoulder as she looked at him.

"Ah! I see you brought what you needed for the night?" She nodded, and he gave her unburdened shoulder a light squeeze. "Come, I'll show you where you can set your things, if you wish."

She followed him into his bedroom, placing not one but two changes of clothes into the drawer he'd set aside for her, along with her light training gear; then pulled out a bag of toiletries — a hairbrush, a toothbrush? Though her bag was not overly stuffed, she'd brought more than simply the bare necessities, a fact that became obvious the more she unpacked. Simply seeing her brushes laid out on the counter beside his had him feeling a certain way, even as they joked about how much Tataru had teased them both at supper.

"She might be a bit insufferable about this for a while," the Warrior laughed as she hung the jacket she often wore to training in his armoire beside his light sweaters. "Though I daresay she's earned the privilege — she offered to cover for me if I am ever off with you and someone asks after me," she explained, shutting the armoire door. "So... even should I choose to spend every night here with you, Haurchefant, I... well, I can."

His eyes searched her face for a trace of humor and found none, only a softly vulnerable hope. Taking in a breath through his nose, he reached out and took her hand in both of his, thumbs gently caressing her soft skin.

"My heart," he murmured, bringing his lips to her knuckles and watching her flush. "I would have you make such a decision one night at a time."

She nodded, bringing her other hand to rest atop his, fingertips tracing across the long, delicate bones on the back of his hand. "I very much intend to," she reassured him. "And... tonight, I wanted to be with you."

He smiled widely at her, heart aching with affection. "That is... most splendid to hear," he replied, squeezing her hands before gently releasing them. "Well, seeing as it is yet quite early... would you like to enjoy some evening cocoa?"

Her eyes sparkled in the firelight as she nodded, smiling. "I'm not sure I'll ever say no to that."

"I'll do my best to wield that knowledge responsibly," he laughed, leading her back into the drawing room.

She sat at the small barstool opposite the small stove and leaned onto the counter to watch as he began to boil the last of the fresh milk he'd received before the storm began.

"So... secret family recipe?" the Warrior asked, watching him gently stir the warming milk with a wooden spoon.

He shrugged agreeably, meeting her curious look. "Of a sort. Hot chocolate has long been a popular indulgence of Ishgard's nobility, and each of the four High Houses has their own special way of preparing it." He paused, noticing the milk starting to bubble, and reached for his shaker of cardamom. "Or, rather, their kitchen staff do — 'tis only nobles who have taken up the culinary pursuits as a hobby who tend to cook at all. My late mother was so fond of the drink that she put her own spin on it, and passed said method down to me. Which only I currently know. So, a family secret," he said, eyes twinkling with pride as he poured in a measure of maple syrup.

"Oh," she replied, sounding slightly crestfallen. "I'm so sorry; I didn't realize she'd passed."

He shook his head, grimacing reassuringly. "No, no, 'twas many years ago when I was yet a boy. She was always rather frail — unfortunately we came to expect it, my father and I. It was... it was people like her that I swore to become a knight in order to protect," he sighed, recalling. "Those truly good souls who lack the strength to protect themselves. Not that a knight could have helped her, but the thought that I could save others like her, or else grant them more precious time with their loved ones... It kept me going."

She nodded, seeming to be rather seriously taking in all he'd said, and he smiled appeasingly. "I fear I may have darkened the light mood," he apologized, reaching for his chocolate and his rasp.

"No, no... not at all," she assured him, and his eyes flicked up from his task to meet hers. They were full of sympathy and understanding, fully taking him in. He drew in a breath as she continued to speak. "I want to know more about you, Haurchefant... so I am glad you told me," she said sincerely.

He met her with a wide smile, feeling warmed by her. "Then... then I shall do my best to continue to share more about myself when the moment arises," he promised, beginning to grate fine chocolate shavings into the heated milk. She sighed contentedly as the familiar scent of rich chocolate suddenly filled the air, making a face of sudden craving that admittedly stirred his imagination, making him recall the faces she made enjoying this treat the night before.

Right before she'd all but begged him to kiss her.

He licked his lips, trying to draw his attention back to his work, but a sudden recollection occupied his mind as he finished preparing the cocoa, pouring it into two mugs. She took one, offering her thanks, and they both wandered over to the sofa, sitting rather close to one another.

Just as she was about to take the first sip, he spoke. "You know... I believe you did promise me you'd tell me something over hot cocoa last night," he supplied, eyes glimmering as he held his own cup.

She blinked, her lips near the rim of her mug, meeting his eyes... then smiled, taking her first small sip, closing her eyes to savor the taste.

"...You are right, I did," she answered, licking a stray drop of cocoa from her lower lip. Fury preserve us, how the Warrior of Light enjoyed her food simply bordered on sensual, even now that the long-held tension between them had been broken. "What was it? Reasons why you'd managed to get me in your bed?"

He chuckled mischievously, taking a sip. "Something like that," he conceded, though he didn't recall his exact wording.

"Well this cocoa certainly didn't hurt," she said, raising an eyebrow. He laughed, relaxing pleasantly as she drank, draping an arm across the back of the couch, free hand curling around her small yet strong shoulder. She eyed him, expression bright, then brought her legs up onto the sofa, folding one at her side and resting the other against his lap, her clothed leg and bare foot intertwining with his pajama-clad legs. They met each other with appreciative smiles, both taking another drink.

"You give me your all," she finally breathed, tone serious. "Always. When I asked you to train me, you took on the task yourself. When I asked you to rout me in battle, you held nothing back. When we came here in crisis, lost and afraid, you opened your home to us, as if of course we belonged here with you. How... how could I not find myself fully enraptured by your kindness and passion?" she said quietly, scarlet face sinking into her mug as she took another sip.

Haurchefant took a heavy breath, eyes wide, cup of cocoa in his hand momentarily forgotten entirely. He breathed her name longingly, bringing his hand to her still-wet lips. "You gave me your all in kind," he murmured, bending towards her, both heat and affection rising in his chest. She hummed, sending vibrations up his hand from where his thumb touched her lips.

"I did," she answered as he dropped his hand from her face. "It is hard to answer that kind of selflessness with aught else," she said simply.

"I assure you, my motives have oft been far from selfless," he laughed breathily, remembering the mug in his hand and taking another sip.

"Mm," she conceded, "as have mine. But even so... there is an earnestness to your selfish desires that is... difficult to not respond to," she said, flushing. "Also, have I told you that you are incredibly handsome? Because you are. It's very distracting."

"I am?" he asked, lit up, chest puffing outward at the thickly lavished praise. She nodded, taking another sip.

"Yes, you are," she insisted, meeting him with an appraising, approving look. "So, to answer your question... it was... very difficult not to find myself imagining how those qualities would show themselves in... other settings," she said slowly, blushing furiously. "By the Twelve, why is explaining all of this so godsdamned embarrassing?"

He laughed delightedly, tilting her chin up to meet him. He was flushed too, he was sure of it; how could one not be, when showered in such forthright, decadent praise from the one woman from whom it mattered most?

He bent in close enough for their noses to brush. The scent of cocoa lingered strongly on her breath, familiar yet alluring. "And did they show themselves to your liking?"

"Gods yes," she laughed, playfully touching her forehead to his. "That and much more."

"Mm," he hummed, searching her eyes with a soft, heated smile on his face. She leaned back just enough for their foreheads to separate, looking into his eyes in kind. He could feel her pulse beating faster from where a stray finger rested at her neck. "Full glad am I to hear it, and to know that I enrapture you in such a way," he murmured, her words stirring a want in his chest and belly even more now that he repeated them back to her.

He expected her to flush further, or divert him with laughter — her hot lips on his, yet damp with cocoa, pressing passionately to his, were a most welcome surprise. He gasped, careful not to spill his still-held cup, and returned her show of passion in kind, pressing his tongue against the seam of her lips and weaving his fingers into the back of her hair. She sighed with clear satisfaction as her lips parted, the sound sending a shiver of need down Haurchefant's spine.

He gently curled his tongue around hers, in a slow, delicate flick... she tasted so strongly of hot cocoa, rich and delicious, her lips quivering underneath his, her tongue meeting his with soft, flirtatious swipes. Oh, how he had longed all day to instead spend his precious time kissing the Warrior of Light again, to feel her responding to his touch, to see in her eyes how much she cared for him, how much she wanted him. Yet now that he was here once more, the reality of her once again vastly eclipsed even his now rather-well-informed expectations.

He felt her begin to lean forward into the kiss, and with a sudden start and a leap at the pit of his stomach he placed a hand firmly against her shoulder and braced her against it, breaking the kiss.

"Your cocoa," he gasped, looking down at her mug. The liquid inside indeed sloshed dangerously close to the rim, nearly spilling onto her lap.

"Oh," she gasped, glancing at her mug with wide eyes and tilting it back upright. "Yes—yes, that would have been bad, wouldn't it," she laughed weakly, face flushed. "Gods, it's your fault for kissing me like that," she admonished, grinning at him.

"If I recall, you're the one who kissed me," he teased, eyes narrowing in a wide smirk.

"Yes, well. It was rather difficult not to, what with you right there looking at me like that," she said, exhaling and taking another sip.

"Hmm... looking at you like what?" he asked with a smug smile, drinking as well.

"Like..." she sighed, a sound of near-exasperated embarrassment, before stiffening and pushing in closer to him, her free hand resting on his neck. Her eyes caught briefly on the marks she'd left there, her thumb tracing over one for a moment before her gaze snapped back to his. "Like this," she muttered breathily, bringing her face in close. She glanced down at his lips before she met his eyes with a soft smirk and a half-lidded, desirous gaze. A frisson of energy shot through him, as if being drawn to her by magnetic impulse.

"Point taken," he breathed, heart pounding, as he pressed his lips to hers with want, wishing desperately that they'd already finished their beverages. She responded immediately, lips parting at his barest touch, tongue flicking lightly against his, still tasting like nothing but the most decadent dessert.

This time it was her soft fingertips against the bare sliver of his chest that stopped him from moving forward, eager to capture more than just her lips in his grasp.

"We play a dangerous game, I see," he laughed, bringing his still-far-too-full mug to his lips.

"I think it unlikely that this is how such a beverage is meant to be enjoyed," she laughed in turn, having taken another swig of her own.

"Mm, likely not," he agreed. "Yet this is far more decadent... an utterly splendid discovery," he murmured, brushing the curve of his nose against hers.

"Mmm," she answered in assent, sweet breath hot against his face, before leaning forward just enough to kiss him again, slow and gentle, careful not to spill her drink. He slowed himself to match her pace, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear, making her shiver into the kiss.

Fury above, she was so lovely and intoxicating, as she parted her lips from his to take another sip, then dragged him in by the chin for another kiss, not willing to be parted from him longer than it took for either of them to take a drink. Their mugs full of hot cocoa kept them from taking things too quickly, every kiss a slow, careful indulgence, Haurchefant savoring the taste of her, the feel of her, her hot tongue against his. Heat built in him, and it was impossible to tell what portion was the cocoa and what portion was from her, the sensations inseparable. He soon lost count of how many sips, how many kisses they'd exchanged, even as an ache built in his chest every time their eyes met, every time she offered him a hazy smile, every time he noticed the flush spreading across her beautiful face.

The more they kissed the more he noticed her little tendencies — how when he spiraled his tongue against hers just right, she would let out a soft sigh that stoked his desire; how bringing his fingertips to the side of her neck, dipping them under her high collar, made her shudder little puffs of breath out her nose against his skin. He delighted in every new discovery, committing each to memory.

By the time they'd taken their last sips and finally set their empty mugs upon the table, the Warrior of Light was looking rather red, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, eyes glinting in the firelight as she brought a hand to her lips, looking at him rather appreciatively.

"Well," she puffed, eyes trailing up and down his robed figure.

"Well," he laughed breathily, heart pounding, taking her in. She seemed to be considering something as she looked at him, eyes flicking down to her lap before looking back up at him. Before he had a chance to so much as quirk an eyebrow curiously in her direction, she'd suddenly pivoted her weight onto her knees, and was now straddling his lap, meeting him at eye level with a bit of a grin.

"Oh," he gasped delightedly, looking her over with an open-mouthed smile. She snaked a hand up the side of his neck, and he let out a shuddering sigh, bringing his hands to the curve of her waist. He found his palms slotted in perfectly above her hips, as their eyes searched one another with clear enjoyment. "I certainly have no objections to this development," he said mischievously, and she let out a snort of amusement in response. "Do with me what you will," he added in a playful tone, tilting his neck upwards to show off some of the marks she'd left, unconcealed now that he'd retired to his chambers for the night. To his great pleasure, he noticed her eyes catch on them before returning to his.

"I just might," she teased, sending a shiver of welcome anticipation through him before she kissed him, hands at his shoulder and neck.

Unlike their other careful kisses, this one was a bit more bold and daring, one hand threading up into the back of his hair, the other teasing over the edge of his earlobe with her thumb. He shivered pleasurably, letting his lips part against hers, and she darted her tongue into his mouth, continuing their longing dance from earlier. He let one of his arms rise from her hip to embrace her, draped across the breadth of her back, and she let out a sigh into his mouth, caressing his ear with more focused intent, sending sparks traveling down his spine. Haurchefant groaned softly and deepened the kiss, reaching up to caress her cheekbone while pulling her closer against him, his heart pounding with fervent desire.

By the time they broke the kiss, her chest was pressed against his, and she had to push herself up using his broad shoulders as leverage in order to look him in the eye, the strength of her arms against him most thrilling. And that look — oh, that look — her face and lips flushed scarlet, her eyes softened with a wondering affection mixed with desire. For me? he marveled, disbelieving.

"Is this still real?" he murmured, not intending to voice the thought aloud. Her eyes widened and then softened, her warm hand gently cupping his cheek.

"Yes," she answered quietly, smiling softly. "At least, I think so," she added with a small, tinkling laugh.

Haurchefant smiled, brushing his nose against hers, lashes fluttering shut. "Forgive me if I am not used to receiving my heart's desires so freely," he laughed, slightly self-deprecating. "I am merely in awe."

"You know how I feel about you," she breathed, and he opened his eyes to see her brushing his bangs from them, looking at him with vulnerable sincerity.

"I do," he replied softly, gently stroking her cheekbone with his thumb. "By Halone's blessings, I do. Yet seeing you show it, again and again, on your face and in your deeds that you... truly do want me and none other, I—"

She drew in a deep breath and kissed him firmly, cupping his face in both hands, brows knit together with strong emotion. Powerful feelings of his own rose to choke in his throat, his heart aching with deep affection for her. He let himself melt into her kiss this time, let her sweep him away, the passionate, gentle motions of her lips and tongue against his conveying the gods'-given answer to his doubts and prayers.

She was, without a doubt, most definitely falling in love with him. No matter what the part of him that told him he didn't deserve such sincere affections thought, with her here in his arms, pressing her bared heart into his lips, it was the irrefutable truth.

When they parted, breathing heavily, looking at each other with an intense, overwhelming emotional connection running through them, he was... most certainly not expecting her to then pull her tall sweater up over her head, tossing it to the floor below.

"Look at me," the Warrior told him, and his eyes snapped to hers, full of overwhelmed longing. "Look," she said more softly, smiling as she gestured to the pattern of dark marks he'd left on her neck, her collarbones, her chest, her stomach. "I am yours," she insisted, hand gentle at his chin.

"You are," he choked out with a smile, hands coming up to gently cup her face and chest through her silky brassiere. "Gods you are beautiful," he added, bending down to gently kiss her collarbone, lips landing atop a mark he'd made the night before. "Beautiful and mine."

"Good," she sighed, in relief or pleasure or both, as he continued to kiss over the tops of her breasts, unable to leave her bare skin alone. "Haurchefant, I have never truly been anyone else's," she added, and he lifted his eyes to look at her face, finding her looking down to the side shyly. "This is all... new to me, and it's yet been hardly any time at all, but... I would have you never again doubt that my feelings for you are real," she said, entreating him seriously. "I do not offer up my heart to just anyone. There has only been you."

Her eyes on his were filled with such nearly pained sincerity that it made his heart ache.

"My dearest," he said, squeezing her hand tightly in his where it rested on his shoulder. "I would never, not for an instant, doubt a single word that falls from your lips," he swore fervently as her mouth fell open. "'Tis merely that I have been rather firmly told my entire life that I am undeserving of what I desire most. Particularly where those I care most deeply for are concerned," he explained, grimacing apologetically. "But I will — and I swear this by the Fury Herself, with all my heart — endeavor to never doubt this again. I value you far more than I doubt myself."

She took him in, eyes wide and wandering across his features. For a moment, he feared he'd said too much — had been too honest about his deep-set fears, about the wounds that still plagued him. But then she smiled, face soft with sympathy, and he breathed out, relieved.

"You deserve the world, Haurchefant," she said, stroking her fingers across his cheek. "Anyone who dares to say otherwise must needs answer to me now," she concluded, brow set but face still soft with a hint of humor.

Haurchefant could not help but bark out a hearty laugh at this. The Warrior of Light, scolding every soul in Ishgard who did not treat him with proper care! The image was... quite frankly, the most inspiring, bolstering thing he'd ever held in his mind. He imagined her chastising his stubborn elder brother into inviting him to play cards or somesuch and it made him laugh even harder.

"What?" she laughed, pouting slightly.

"No, no, it's just..." he pressed his forehead against the slope of her shoulder as he tried to catch his breath between laughs. "Forgive me. It was just such an inspiring image that I'm beside myself with delight imagining the poor fool at the other end of your reprimand."

She affected a disapproving grimace that mismatched with her clearly amused eyes, but as he grinned up at her as he rose, wiping a tear of mirth from his eye, she grinned back at him, shaking her head.

"I do mean it, though," she offered, expression softening.

"I believe you," he assured her, placing his hand over hers. "It means... very much to me, truly." He felt quite vulnerable and open as his eyes searched hers. This extraordinary woman wants me? he found himself wondering again despite himself. But, yes — yes, it was crystal clear that she did, even clearer than the marks she deliberately wore of her own volition, marking her as his. Even clearer than the indelible memories of being buried inside her, her bright eyes looking into his with lust and awe.

He could only conclude that the Fury must have seen his deeds and favored him, somehow. By Halone, I love her, he thought, though he knew it too soon to say, too early to know for certain. But it was absolutely inevitable, his feelings deepening with every moment he shared with her.

The Warrior of Light smiled at him then, a precious, beautiful thing that drew him towards her, as if a thread tied to his chest tugged them together. He pressed his lips against hers in yet another kiss, holding her close, arms wrapping tightly around her bare back, so warm and soft in his embrace. She sighed with satisfaction and need against his lips, kissing back with longing, a warmth tingling all the way down to his fingertips.

If she felt such a way about him... never anyone else... there has only been me, his mind echoed in wonder, well, then perhaps she was right, and he did deserve this. To be happy. To be hers.

As her hands slipped down to part the neckline of his robe, her lips parting from his to fall onto the tender skin of his bared, marked neck, stoking in him his already simmering desire, he could not but wish to offer up all of himself to her once more, gladly, with an aching smile.

Chapter Text

The Warrior of Light, clad only in a silky bra and soft trousers, found herself gripped tightly as she straddled Haurchefant's lap, his lips coming to brush over the top of her ear as she kissed at his collarbone.

"I thought about you all day, you know," he murmured, breath hot against her, making a warm shiver run down her spine. "'Twas terribly distracting. I quite nearly signed your name on a supply requisition," he chuckled, then gasped as she sucked at a mark she'd left the night before. She lifted her lips, examined it and smiled, noticing its color deepening.

"Did you really?" she asked, voice light with amusement.

"Mmm," he responded, cupping her face in his large hand and pressing a kiss right in front of her ear, hot and intimate. His eyes were half-lidded now, his voice low enough to send sparks of arousal down through her. His bangs tickled her cheek as he lifted his head to look at her. "If I hadn't been watched like a hawk all day by my second, you might have had a visitor," he said, softly biting his lip as he met her with a smirk.

Gods, she had been wanting him again all day, even though she had been so very thoroughly sated by him just this morning, and the tension of being here, hovering in his lap, either of them being perfectly poised to act on any of their desires...

She let out a breath, showing him a look of confident curiosity. "And what thoughts might have spurred such a visitor to take such bold action?" she asked, desire creeping up through her chest as she watched him flush, still smirking wickedly but looking nearly embarrassed.

"Well," he breathed, almost a laugh. "I can hardly respond to the kindness you've just shown me with such... depravity."

The Warrior grinned, trailing a finger down the tip of Haurchefant's ear to the bottom of his lobe, her touch feather light. She watched his eyes widen and his skin flush, his breath hitching as she lifted her finger from his lobe with a light flick. "Try me," she challenged.

"...Very well," he rumbled, sliding his large hands down her back to her bare waist, slotting in just so above her hips. As she curved into his touch, he lifted one of his hands and brought a thumb to her lower lip, brushing across it gently. His gaze upon her was so intense, she felt a shower of sparks stutter through her chest at the gesture. "My mind could not but wander to how perfectly your tight, powerful body took my cock," he uttered, eyes roving hungrily over her. "How a single stroke inside you had you whimpering and begging for more beneath me. How a single touch of me this morning had you wishing to put this beautiful mouth around me," he said, thumb pressing her lower lip and releasing it, his voice low and thick with lust.

She let out a labored breath at this, body tense and hot with anticipation, hanging on his every word. He licked his lips as if considering whether to continue, but her wanting eyes pleading with him seemed sufficient to spur him onwards. "How I might endeavor to stoke such desires in you again, were you to visit me at work..."

She stared, flushing with want, levin coursing down between her thighs at his mere words. Seven hells, the way he spoke to her... his words dripping with utterly shameless desire and praise, vivid and tempting. She wanted—she wanted so badly to hear more.

"How might you?" she asked, lowering herself onto his lap, seating herself on his muscular thighs. She was well aware all of their heated kissing had him thoroughly aroused, but as she felt the heat of him lightly brush up against her own for a bare moment as she sat, it sent sparks of pleasure jolting through her. She couldn't help but gasp along with him at the contact, looking down at the bulge now straining against his robe and trousers.

A large hand came to the Warrior's neck and tilted her face up to look back at his — Haurchefant met her with a look of pleased hunger, as one might look at a particularly delectable dessert. "Mmm..." he hummed, considering. "Well, first I might have risen from my work to greet you, stepping closer... dismissed my men, if only for a few precious minutes alone."

She nodded, her attention fully captured. "And then?"

"And then I may have bent in close to tell you how delighted I was to have this moment alone with you," he began, craning his long neck down so that their faces were now perhaps an ilm apart, his gaze hot on hers, "slipping my fingers beneath your collar and pressing gently at your skin," he continued, pressing his fingers against a dark mark at her bare neck, sending a heated ache through her sore skin, pooling down below, "to remind you of the ache I've left you with."

She breathed out a shudder at this, watching as his eyes, so close and heated, roamed over her face, taking in every facet of her reaction. "...Do you still feel it?" he asked quietly, hand slipping down from where he held her waist to trace down over her thigh, and then, as she pinched her lips shut to stifle a whine, cupping ever-so-softly underneath her, over the clothed length of her heat. "So very deep inside you?"

The Warrior nodded, her eyes wide. "Yes," she confessed, her hips curving gently into his touch all on their own. He pressed his eyes shut tightly as if exercising arduous restraint, his breath hissing inwards.

"Good," he whispered, withdrawing his hand. She nearly whimpered as he did, hand gripping his shoulder as if to pull him back down onto her.

"H-Haurche—" she began to plead, but he pressed his fingertips against her lips, cutting her off.

"You wish to hear what else I might have done, do you not?" he asked, and she nodded eagerly. He met her with an absolutely lascivious smile. "Patience, my heart. First, tell me how you would have responded."

"I—" she started, caught off guard a little, not used to this sort of play; but she sucked in a breath and continued eagerly, leaning into the heat building between her legs. "I would have gasped at your touch — remembered what... what we'd done the night before, looked up at you... seen you looking at me like that and..." she swallowed, her mouth going dry.

"Looking at you like what?" Haurchefant pressed, his eyes on her both patient and transfixed.

"Like... as if you were replaying the memory," she explained.

"I certainly would have been," he confessed, with a heated stare that gave her chills, giving her the distinct impression he was recalling such now. "I certainly will be for quite some time," he added, cupping her chin again. "How does—how does knowing that make you feel, my friend? That at any moment, I could still be seeing you in my mind's eye, lost in the throes of pleasure as I greedily ravished you at your own command?"

His words had her covering her mouth to stifle a sudden moan, which then escaped through her nose as a whine instead.

"Fucking Twelve, Haurchefant—" she hissed against her fingers, pressing her eyes shut. He gripped her chin a bit tighter and she opened them to see him looking at her expectantly, face flushed and eyes dark, as if he needed to hear her response. "I... it makes me... nearly burn for you to take me again," she admitted desperately, voice hushed.

"That is... that is splendid to hear," he groaned, grabbing her hip tightly as if to brace himself. "Then... then if I'd brought my hand to your lips, like this..." he cupped her chin in his fingers, pressing his index finger against the seam of her lips, "and told you how I'd not been able to get the thought of your mouth around me out of my mind, what would you have done?"

Staring straight into his deep blue eyes, heat rising in her chest, the Warrior of Light flicked her tongue out, wetting her lips and his fingertip, before gently sucking his finger into her mouth, tongue swirling around it sensuously in an attempt to convey her desire. Haurchefant groaned at this, watching with wide eyes, ears flushing scarlet as she sucked his long finger deeper, her gaze still hot on his, until her lips came up to his bottom knuckle. With one last, long, seductive lick, she leaned back and released him, flicking the point of her tongue against his fingertip as she did.

"That," she breathed, wiping the wetness off her lips with the back of her hand, "I would have done that."

"Fury have mercy," he groaned, his mouth hanging open. "'Tis—'tis well that you did not visit me, for I would have needed your mouth upon me that very instant," he admitted. "I might very well have begged you to conceal yourself underneath my desk, to—to relieve me of this pressing desire so I might return to my duties."

Haurchefant's face was near desperate now, and he brought a hand to cup himself in his lap. He was by all indications very hard now, the overlapping seam of his robe split around his cock, the soft fabric of his trousers pulled tight. She looked down at it and then back up at him, their eyes meeting with mutual hunger — he bit his lip, then continued.

"In truth, the thought had plagued me throughout my work regardless. How—how utterly sinful an image the Warrior of Light might be, kneeling before me beneath my desk, taking me in hand as I worked, pressing her lips to me—"

"Haurchefant," she panted breathily, mouth softly dropping open. To... to do such a thing... the thought of it... A heat surged through her, pooling between her thighs.

"Your study," she said, her mind working quickly. Her eyes gestured to the one door along the far wall she had not yet had occasion to enter. If... if she could indulge his tantalizing fantasy and get to explore his body further, to taste him on her tongue, to learn and feel the shape and weight of him in her hands, in her mouth, just as she'd craved— "It has a desk?"

Haurchefant swallowed as if his mouth had suddenly gone dry. "Yes—yes, it does," he answered. "You would—"

She nodded quickly, face hot.

"Fury," he swore, both rising to his feet and lifting her to hers as he did. He gave her half-naked body a longing look before cursing again, gripping her hand tightly in his and leading her into his dark study. He lit a lamp near his desk, bathing the room in a dim, comfortable light, then pulled out his chair and sat.

Haurchefant's desk in his private study was not unlike the one in his public office — large, wooden, and tall, giving the Elezen seated at it plenty of leg room. His chair, however, was of even finer make — it had a tall back, and was constructed of what looked to be mahogany and fine crimson leather upholstery, made for an Ishgardian nobleman's comfort. Seeing him sit there, adopting the upright, eager posture she was used to seeing him have when he greeted her there on duty, but now with his eyes ablaze with a desperate, lustful anticipation, his legs and robe now both spread, accentuating his clear and significant arousal — she found herself taking in an eager breath as she brought herself to her knees, her heart pounding.

Seven hells, she thought, there was something about seeing him there sitting comfortably above her in his fine satin robe, in such a well-appointed room, while she knelt on the carpet half-nude beneath him... As if this man who cared for her and clearly saw her as more than an equal, now wielded some kind of symbolic authority over her... she found the scenario excited her beyond imagining.

"You truly wish to—"

"Gods yes," she swore, crawling underneath his desk and situating herself at his feet.

"You must... you must really want to taste me so badly, don't you?" he said, unbuttoning his trousers and letting them fall to the floor. She could see the shape of him clearly straining against his smalls now, and her mouth began watering at the sight of it.

She nodded desperately, reaching up to touch his thighs, tilting her neck up to look at him. "I do," she insisted, "I—I want you to fill my mouth, to—to show me how much I can take," she begged. "I want to map every ilm of you with my tongue, to learn what takes you apart, please—"

He moaned breathily at this, bending down to cup her chin, finger pressing against her lips again. She took it into her mouth eagerly; then he added another, watching with utmost desire as he gently fucked her mouth with his fingers, her tongue curling around them as he did, heated breaths stuttering out of her nose.

"Look at you, so eager to please me," he gushed, watching enraptured as she sucked fervently at his fingers. "So eager to be filled with me in any way you can... Certainly one with your power could simply take what she wanted with ease, yet—yet oh Fury, here you are on your knees begging for but a taste," he breathed quickly, stroking himself through his smalls. "You—you like it when I guide you, make... make you lose a bit of your guarded control for me, don't you?" he asked, even as his fingers continued to gently fuck her mouth, leaving a dripping trail. "To lay down the mantle of hero for a while and simply be mine?"

Her eyes widened, her heart and body both aching at his words. He was... he was right, of course; the way he'd held her weakened body upright in his arms as he'd fucked her last night, the way she'd been able to let go, urging him to do all he willed with her, simply giving into the pleasure he most freely gave her—

He withdrew his fingers from her lips to hear her answer. She licked her lips and swallowed, staring up at him, into his expectant, lustful, caring gaze. "Yes," she answered simply, and was rewarded with an awestruck expression from her lover, and a gentle threading of the fingers of his dry hand through the side of her hair. "Though I will simply take what I want from you one of these days, mark my words," she murmured quietly, a smirk at her lips as she watched his eyes widen and his stomach tense. "But when you speak to me like this, Haurchefant... I—I can't resist you," she admitted sincerely, pressing a pleading kiss to his thigh. He shuddered, biting his lip. "Please, let me make you feel so good—"

"Such trust... such delicious promises," the Elezen groaned, firmly caressing her ear and making her shudder into his touch. "I shall grant your desire, my heart," he said with a hazy smile, slipping his fingers beneath the waistband of his smalls, lifting his hips up enough to pull them down, casting them away at his feet.

He was essentially fully naked now; only his robe remained, sash undone, parted so far it now barely covered his shoulders and arms. Haurchefant towered over her in his seat, his scarred, muscular torso leading down to beautiful sculpted hips and something wonderful waiting eagerly for her between his spread legs.

She let out a little moan at the sight of it — his presumably painfully hard cock, its long shaft curving up and out towards her. His foreskin had already slipped down, revealing that thick flared head that had painstakingly worked her open, that had made her tremble and go wild with pleasure. Her hand reached out towards it questioningly and he nodded approvingly at her, fingertips gently caressing her cheek.

"Go on, my naughty little adventurer... Claim your reward," he encouraged, eyes searching hers, taking stock of her reaction.

She flashed him a pleased, devilish grin and cupped her hand around his shaft, bending in to take a closer look.

He breathed hard as her hand gripped him gently, giving an experimental slide up his length, taking in the shape of him. Twelve preserve her he was long and thick, her hand not even close to being able to circle him fully in her grip. His skin was soft and molten hot, and as she slid her hand all the way up his shaft, pulling his foreskin up over the flushed pink tip of his cock, a bead of slick formed at the damp slit there, looking utterly delicious. His hips shuddered into her gentle exploratory touch, and she looked up to see him watching her with rapt attention, eyes hazy with lust, breathing heavily.

The Warrior met him with a smile and bent down, flicking her tongue out to lap up the little droplet of pre he'd made for her, hearing him gasp at her touch. It was slick and lightly salty and quickly spread across her tongue, coating her mouth in the intoxicating taste of him. It—it wasn't nearly enough, and she drew his foreskin back again, pressing the flat of her tongue against his straining head, spreading his slick across it. She looked up to see him stifling a groan against his fist as he watched her, his face and ears beet red.

Haurchefant threaded his fingers gently through her hair as she explored him with her tongue, curving underneath the flared ridge of his head, licking a stripe down the line of his frenulum. Gods, he felt and tasted so good, especially as she began to lick a path down his shaft; his natural scent was clean and masculine with a hint of some sweet spice. She listened eagerly to every little whine and gasp that escaped his lips, felt every slight tremor of movement at her exploratory motions. He was—he was really so big, though, weighing heavy in her grip, and her mind wondered how much of him she could truly fit inside her mouth?

He panted her name as she planted a long, sucking kiss at the base of his cock, hand cupping his balls and caressing them gently, coaxing out a soft groan. She looked up at him again only to see an overwhelmed need in his eyes, which roved over her like she was the most incredible thing he'd ever seen.

"Do you need me to suck your cock, Lord Haurchefant?" she questioned, "before your men find us like this?"

She watched his pupils blow wide and felt his whole body shiver at her sudden return to the scenario he'd so vividly painted for them. Something in her thrilled at the naughty use of his title, something she hadn't called him in private save in playful jest for many moons, and she could see from his clear reaction that it very much stoked a similar thrill in him too.

"Yes, my friend," he panted desperately, fingers tangling more tightly into her hair. "So attentive to my needs, my dearest Warrior of Light is, ah—"

He cut off in a gasp as she positioned him just so in her grip, placing her wet lips against his leaking tip. Then, carefully, her lips curled tightly around him, she began to push down onto him, taking his length into her mouth.

The head alone was a mouthful, thick and large, and she knew she'd need to get accustomed to him — she looked him in the eye as she pushed down, his tip resting on the back of her tongue, and began to suck it up and down, swirling her tongue sensuously around him, coiling shapes that made his mouth drop open and a deep groan escape him.

"Oh, yes," he panted, hand dropping from her scalp to cup her jaw, where he could surely feel her hollowed-out cheeks stretching to accommodate him. He moaned her name, the most flattering of compliments; she began to slowly try and take more of him, head bobbing down around him, lips stretched thin. "Fury take me—" he cursed, "If—if only you could see yourself... hungrily filling yourself with me..."

A heat built further in her at his words and she sunk even deeper onto him, until the tip pressed against her throat, nearly gagging her. She met his eyes, feeling hot and desperate; he was looking at her seeming very much the same. As she stilled a moment, trying to get used to the size of him inside her mouth — still not nearly all of him, she doubted she could take it all without significant practice or a miracle — he caressed her face softly, his touch loving and gentle.

"You're doing so well," he gushed, seeming awestruck. "You—you feel amazing, your tongue—" There was a satisfied glint in her eyes as she suddenly wove her tongue around him at this, making him gasp and shudder, his hips twitching. "Oh, Fury. Do... do you like it? How it feels to have your beautiful face filled with me?"

She furrowed her brow passionately and nodded, her eyes pinching shut as she moaned her assent. With a hard suck up his shaft that made him pant a shuddering breath, she released him from her mouth, wiping a drip from her lower lip.

"Yes," she swore sincerely, licking a spiral around his sensitive head again. She stroked him firmly as she did, coaxing out more slick from his tip. "You taste so good," she said, lapping it up sensually, savoring it as she sunk down again, watching him moan and curse in pleasure and satisfaction.

She let her hand glide over the rest of him as she filled her mouth with all she could, bobbing up and down and savoring the feel and taste of him, her smalls fully soaked by now as she watched him make wonderful soft sounds of pleasure, offering encouraging words and gentle touches, showing her where best to grip him, telling her what tricks of her lips and tongue she employed felt the best.

The look in his eyes as he watched her please him — an overwhelmed, aching lust, softened with deep affection — had her in a trance. She lost track of how long she'd been here, working him with her hands and mouth, aching for him even as she was filled with him, ignoring her own body's need. Every moan, every tremble, every gasp she drew out of him shot through her like a bolt of levin, urging her onward, quickening her pace.

For all his words about guiding her, making her drop her guard — he was quickly becoming putty beneath the Warrior's dedicated lips and hands, receptive and desperate, and she found herself relishing every little thing she could do to him. The way he looked down at her from his fancy chair — disheveled, flushed and overwhelmed with pleasure, melting into near-incoherence because of her — well, she was certain this would be a memory to haunt her own fantasies.

"Right... right there," Haurchefant cut off in a moan as she sucked hard over the tip of him at just the angle he liked, releasing him with a loud pop. "Oh, oh Halone, if you keep at this much longer you're going to make me come right here," he admitted through shallow breaths, his fingers in her hair tightening their grip as she engulfed him again, lost in the hazy need to please her lover, heedless of his warnings. He groaned, his thighs tensing, biting his lip —

"Gods you are so hot," she moaned against his cock, and he let out a desperate whine. "Do you want to come in my mouth? You do, don't you?" she found herself asking assertively, hoping it would drive him wild.

"F—fuck," he swore, hips jerking against her face reflexively, eyes momentarily pinching shut. Then he gaped at her, overwhelmed. "Yes, Fury yes— D-do you want me to?"

"I do," she breathed seductively, licking up his shaft as she stroked him. "I want to make you come, Haurchefant," she said, flicking her tongue across his swollen tip, watching him bite his lip and tremble above her. "Claim every last drop—"

His large hands held her head and pressed her down onto him, and she gladly parted her lips around him and took him again as deep as she could, making him groan.

He moaned her name as she continued to pump him quickly now, taking his cock until it hit the back of the roof of her mouth, pleasuring him with the tight circle of her lips and the wet arc of her tongue. Her jaw had begun to ache by now but the fevered heat and impassioned goal of making him come, making him spill into her, taking all of it eagerly, just for him— it made her head swim in a lustful blur, until his cock in her mouth and hands, his face lost in passion, watching her in amazement, and his hands threaded tightly into her hair were all that she knew, all that she needed—

His thighs began to tense and shake, his head thrown back in sheer ecstacy, his hips stuttering into her mouth in small uncontrollable jerks. With a shock of wet heat and a surge of incredible satisfaction, she felt her mouth fill with him as he came, his face erotic and beautiful, lost in bliss. He moaned loudly as he did, wanton and shameless. As she swallowed the hot mouthful he'd given her, the distinctive taste of him flooding her senses, he panted hard, slumping forward towards her, his hands still threaded deeply into her hair.

Heat yet thrumming through her, the Warrior of Light slowly released Haurchefant from her mouth, feeling him shudder from oversensitivity and listening to his soft whimpers as she gently cleaned the rest of his spend off of him with her tongue.

She looked up at him with a deep smile of satisfaction and affection, watching him catching his breath and reeling through his aftershocks with his eyes yet closed. Her heart skipped a beat as his eyes opened, looking down into hers with a soft, faded wonder. "Welcome back," she said, running a hand up the smooth skin of his muscular thigh, his soft hairs brushing her palms. "How was that?"

Haurchefant looked down at the Warrior of Light where she knelt between his spread legs, her lips most swollen and red, her tongue idly licking away a stray dribble of his come, her face both soft with affection and looking smugly satisfied, and — Fury preserve him, if he hadn't just come in his dearest friend and lover's most attentive mouth, he may have come again from simply the mere sight of her licking all of him up.

Her small mouth could barely take half of him inside her, but Halone, the way she'd sucked him dry, her beautiful eyes hot on his, looking for all the world like she'd not tasted anything she'd liked more than him, like being on her knees pleasing him so fervently had brought her, too, to the edge of bliss—

And, gods, the way she felt, hot and wet and eager around him, patiently responding to his guidance, quickly learning which motions made him tremble with pleasure, what made his hips jerk forward into her despite himself —

"Utterly, unequivocally sublime," he near groaned, gently stroking his fingers through her hair, faint shivers of pleasure still echoing through him. "Fury, you... you wanted that nearly as much as I did, didn't you?" he asked breathily, bringing a hand to gently cup her chin, thumb worrying her swollen lip. It was hot and damp, and she smiled coyly beneath his touch.

"Perhaps," she said lightly, bending down to press a gentle kiss to the top of his thigh. "I, I just... wanted to take you apart like you've done to me," she explained, lips still brushing his skin as she spoke. The way her bright eyes peeked up at him from her vantage appeared almost shy and rather adorable, Haurchefant thought, though the devious smile that followed was anything but shy. "You are... rather amazing when you come," she admitted, and he drew in a sharp, deep breath, something coming alive within him at her words. "You get so... so lost, in me," she murmured quietly, trailing a finger up his opposite thigh.

He breathed out her name at this, both hands coming to cup her face in his palms, causing her to lift her neck and look up at him, hands in his thighs bracing herself as she did. Eyes fixed on hers, heart beating ever so strongly, he craned down as far as he could — then, finding he didn't quite reach, he scooted his chair back a number of ilms. He pulled her up to her feet, and pressed his lips to hers in a firm, passionate kiss.

She gasped, then sighed beneath his lips, parting them as he pressed against them with his tongue. She yet tasted so strongly of him, a musky, complex, almost bitter taste; but she did not complain and neither did he. It was not the first time he'd sampled himself and to— to do so on her lips was— he groaned into her mouth, intertwining his tongue with hers, trying to convey the feelings that had risen up through him at her words.

As he kept kissing her, thumbs caressing her neck and cheekbones with firm intent, she puffed increasingly labored breaths from her nose, the soft hint of a whine vibrating against his tongue. Oh... yes, her mouth must be rather tired, he realized as her jaw simply relaxed into his kisses, tongue following along lazily despite her signs of increasing desperation.

"Haurchefant," she breathed hazily as he released her lips from his, her voice laced with need and an emotion that sent a shiver of renewed desire running down his body. Her eyes were intense and almost pleading on his, though he'd done nothing but simply kiss her.

"...If you continue saying things like that to me, my heart, I fear I will never find my way out of you again," he murmured, searching her eyes. They met him with somehow further longing and he needed to touch her now, spent as he was, to lay her out before him and show her how much she'd pleased him, to sate her every need. But he had time. His completion had bought him a measure of patience, and he would savor this.

"You need me to touch you so badly, don't you," he said instead, his hand trailing slowly down her neck. She arched it into his touch — such a marvelous, responsive, vulnerable gesture — and nodded slowly, her lips bit shut. The heat rose in him at a sudden wicked thought and he smiled at her, the edges of his lips curling in a slight smirk. "Did drinking all of me down only make you want yet more of me inside you?"

"Haurchefant..!" she gasped again, half-indignant and half a desperate whine. "You're shameless," she replied with a scarlet face.

He smiled pleasantly, letting his other hand trail down to her waist, squeezing at the small of her bare back, bending his neck to kiss at her cleavage — Halone, she was perhaps a goddess herself, every curve and swell of her body seemingly made to entice him. "Yes, but am I wrong?"

Her eyes fluttered briefly shut, then opened to meet his with a look of momentary consideration. Then she placed her hand over his where it rested at the small of her back, dragging it down over the curve of her clothed backside and onto the back of her thigh, staring at him intently as she did so. "Find out for yourself," she said in almost a warning tone.

Oh, oh, though she'd already fulfilled one of his most lurid fantasies, Haurchefant knew the night was yet far from over. He squeezed at the back of her thigh where it met her ass, eliciting a hushed moan - gods, the combination of soft curve and toned muscle there had him running his tongue over his lips. "I rather think I shall," he answered in a low tone, then with a deft hand unclasped her bra and brushed it off her shoulders and onto the ground.

"Beautiful," he murmured huskily, squeezing at a breast — oh, the shape and weight of it felt perfect in his palm — and bent down and engulfed her nipple with his lips, gently and languidly caressing it with his tongue. She whined and squirmed a bit against him, then brought her hand to his ear, caressing the shell of it with firm intent. He shivered with sudden pleasure, releasing her nipple and bending up to look at her.

"I need you," she insisted, moving to unbutton her trousers. "Feels... feels so good, but if you don't touch me already I might pin you to the floor and make you," she warned with a breathy laugh.

His eyes glinted up at her, his hands taking over at her waistband. "Not the most compelling reason for me to hurry," he answered with a smirk, smiling further when he was met with a playful scowl. "But I suppose I shall not incur your wrath this evening, my wanting warrior," he hummed, hearing her snort a laugh. "Not after you've treated me so, so well."

He made quick work of her buttons and began to pull her trousers down, revealing the luscious curve of her hips, and — his breath caught, eyes flicking up to hers. Her face was flushed, her eyes glinting deviously.

"You wore them," he breathed with a tone of erotic approval, before pulling her trousers down past her thighs. They fell to the floor and she stepped out of them, clad in nothing but a pair of extravagant lacy pale pink smalls that hugged her hips in beautiful patterns, adorning her in silk.

"You brought them to me," she laughed, stepping out of her discarded clothing and leaning back against his desk, displaying her body rather confidently, taking in his reaction. Fury she was beautiful, the lovely swell of her chest and hips, the soft skin of her waist and legs revealing tightly packed muscle whenever she moved, her body decorated in pale scars proving her years of rough adventure. The garment in question, delicate and feminine, made her yet more of a vision somehow in a way that had Haurchefant's mouth going dry.

"I did," he acknowledged, rising to his feet and leaning over her, hands on either side of hers on the edge of the table. "I... wasn't expecting to find such a garment in your things," he teased, tone approving. "But, gods..." he stroked the side of her face with the back of his hand, looking down her body ravenously before meeting her eyes, which were wide with hunger. He swallowed. "I am full glad I did."

She smiled at him, face flushed, looking down his own body just as approvingly. Fury, that a woman like her could desire him so—

"I bought them on a whim," she divulged, pressing her weight into her palms and hopping up to seat herself on the edge of his desk. "Ul'dahn merchants can be quite persuasive. I had... not imagined I'd have the chance to wear them for anyone but myself, and yet..."

"And yet here we are," he purred, eyes hot on hers, bending in close and bringing a hand to cup her neck. He thumbed over her ear and she shivered, her trembling turning into a gasp as he traced his fingers up over the seam of her thighs, her legs spreading willingly at his touch. His lips sought the tender skin of her neck where he'd marked her, licking and sucking, tasting the delightful salt of her skin. She moaned, arcing into his touch, and he found he could not help himself — taking care to ensure nothing laid in her path, he pushed her back against his desk, where she propped herself up on her elbows, looking at him with need.

Oh, the sight of her there, laid out before him, his papers strewn haphazardly to her sides, her mouth open in a soft gasp, her legs gently spread, revealing... Fury, she looked to be soaked, the pale silk turning dark between her legs, and the heat that had begun to build in him again flared, his softened cock once again beginning to pulse to life.

He hissed in a breath looking at her, and the Warrior of Light did not let this go unnoticed, spreading her legs further for him, eyes searching and pleading on his. "Haurchefant, please—"

He could not in good conscience deny such a sincere plea. Haurchefant slotted himself between her legs, bringing his hand down the front of her lacy smalls with a smirk. They both gasped as he made contact with her.

She was hot and wet and so ready for him, he realized with a start, sliding his fingers down through her folds in an exploratory stroke before withdrawing his hand and looking at it with heated awe.

His fingers were absolutely drenched with her, and as he spread them before her a glimmering arc of her slick connected them.

"Oh, Fury," he groaned, "simply sucking my cock has made you this wet for me?"

She nodded desperately, and something burned in him, a nearly possessive desire.

"I could glide right in, couldn't I? Simply spread you wide and take you here atop my desk? Fill you deep with one swift stroke?" He brought his soaked hand to himself, groaning at the feel of her slick on his hardening cock, and she watched him with a look of overwhelmed hunger.

"You could," she said, breathing heavily, her words nearly a longing moan. "Would you?"

His eyes searched hers hungrily, continuing to stroke himself — oh, he was fully hard now, quite nearly ready to go again. Fury above he most certainly would. This woman had him nigh insatiable, he thought with a thrill.

"I would," he choked out. "If you are yet able to take me again."

"I am," she said, biting her lip, staring at his thickening length with eyes blown dark. "And—and even were I not—"

Haurchefant hissed out a breath, grabbing at her lace-clad hips and pulling her smalls down, lifting and bending her legs until they slid free of her ankles. The Warrior of Light's lovely little cunt was spread out beautifully for him, glistening with the strength of her arousal. She reached down and touched herself, fingers winding slow, tight circles at her apex, eyes wandering over him all the while, and he let out a groan of pure need.

That... that she wanted him enough— that she trusted him enough to give him such a display, her muscles tightening beautifully under her soft skin and sweet little sounds escaping her lips as she pleasured herself before him—

"Fury, look at you," he groaned, drinking in the image of her for just another moment before it was too much for him to bear. He grabbed her by the thighs to pull her closer to the edge of the desk, eliciting a gasp — then a whimper of need as his hard length pressed flush against her, making Haurchefant himself let out a shuddering breath of relief.

Seeing himself laid against her like this... gods, that her smaller body had taken all of him somehow...

"I'm going to fill you so well, my heart," he uttered in promise, replacing her fingers at her clit with his own, touching her with motions that mimicked hers. She let out a whine and stared down at them, hips bucking into his hand.

"Fuck, yes, please," she blurted out, half-plea and half-praise, her eyes hot on his. "I—I need—"

"What do you need?" he asked with a hazy smirk, rutting back and forth across her entrance and watching her writhe beneath him.

She huffed, impatient — but trembling with anticipation, responding so well to how he teased her. "I need every ilm of you filling me to the brim," she insisted with a tone of desperation. "Need to feel all of you, pounding into me, taking me... I need you, Haurchefant, please—"

Her words cut off into a moan of sheer delight as, unable to restrain himself a moment longer at hearing such desires, he took himself in hand and began to push into her.

Oh Halone, though she was so incredibly wet and he'd so thoroughly opened her up for him the night before, her entrance was still so tight, constricting around him so firmly he found himself biting his lip to smother a whine. She gasped beneath him, reaching towards him as if wanting to pull him close.

"Halone preserve," he swore, bending down over her, letting her hands come to stroke his neck and cup his face. The expression she wore as he stilled, barely inside her and waiting for her body to relax, was at the same time vulnerable and utterly wanton. His heart ached as their eyes met, and the urge to bury himself completely in her right that moment was all but overpowering. "It—it seems your body still does not know the shape of me fully yet," he breathed, pushing into her searing heat perhaps another ilm as they shared a groan.

Her eyes fluttered shut and she shook her head, spreading her thighs even further around his waist, clearly just as desperate as he was to complete their joining. "No," she agreed, eyes meeting his, tilting her hips up slightly and whining softly as he slid in just a bit further, his thick head slowly but surely beginning to stretch her open. "Perhaps I still have need of your... physical instruction," she huffed with a soft grin, hands gripping his face and neck more tightly.

Haurchefant let out a devious, delighted laugh despite himself. "You... want me to train you to take me? My friend... that is such a wholly sinful request," he said in a low rumble, "one I cannot but earnestly promise to fulfill."

The Warrior of Light shuddered and moaned beneath him as he withdrew and pressed in yet further, scorching flames of pleasure flaring up his body from where they were joined. "Fury, but you feel incredible," he swore, searching her wide, beautiful eyes as he continued slowly working her open, rutting back and forth, gradually sinking deeper, coaxing little moans out of her that only spurred him on. "Shall—shall we train like this nightly, my heart? Until you can take me deep inside you as easily as you can now deflect a blade?"

"Y—yes," she moaned suddenly as he pierced further in, almost fully seated inside her now. "Oh, oh gods, Haurchefant, there's so much of you... you feel so good, filling me like this—"

She let out a soft gasp, her walls fluttering around him as he finally sunk fully into her, letting out a shuddering groan of relief and pressing closer to her.

He brought his hand to her cheek, running his thumb across her soft, parted lips, looking deep into her eyes, her words making him ache. "And, pray tell— how does it feel to now have all of me?"

"Right," she whispered quietly, as if admitting to him a secret. "It feels right," she repeated, and the soft vulnerable sound that escaped from him, his heart soaring with emotion that set his body afire in all-consuming warmth, was only silenced when he pressed his lips to hers.

The Warrior of Light moaned softly against Haurchefant's lips as they met hers, spreading a tingling heat down her limbs all the way to her fingertips. Gods, he was completely inside her now, her body stretched so wide to accommodate him, filled so fully. Though she'd mostly recovered from the night before, she now felt every ilm all the more keenly. And yet... and yet, as he kissed her, his heated lips and fervent, near worshipful tongue upon hers like none other had ever been, she found she longed for even more.

Heat coiled through her, and she met his passionate kiss with a fervor of her own, her fingers coming to rub gently up the length of his ears, teasing the points as she reached them. Haurchefant panted a hot, needy sound into her mouth that made her clench tightly around him, causing his hips to stutter against her, pushing somehow deeper.

"H-Haurchefant," she whined, biting her lip against the sheer pressure of him.

"My heart," he breathed in a groan, looking at her with wondering, lustful eyes. "It—it is right, is it not? How... how perfectly our bodies fit together..." he said in a low rumble, his lips puffing hot breath against her ear as he dragged out of her slowly before pressing all the way back in, wracking her with delicious sensation. She thrusted back up against him, making them both groan. "How eager you are to take me even here upon my desk," he added, pressing a kiss that was half-bite to her neck as he began to roll his hips into her, setting a gentle pace that still had her clinging to him, her thighs squeezing tightly around his hips.

The stretch was exquisite, his thick head hitting all the right places inside her, so much so that even as he fucked her slowly and steadily, she could not help but writhe with pleasure underneath him, letting out soft whines and moans.

"Oh, that I can have you like this," he groaned, meeting her with overwhelmed, vivid blue eyes, "that taking you for my own could bring you such pleasure—"

With a sudden surge of aching want, the Warrior of Light reached up and pulled Haurchefant's lips to hers, kissing him almost roughly. He made a groan of surprise and met her ravenous mouth with his own, brushing his tongue against hers and sending shivers down her spine as he began to move a bit more quickly inside her. She gasped and cried out, breaking the kiss, as he gave her a hard thrust, her body bouncing against the surface of his desk, an aching heat reverberating deep inside her, stirring a need for more.

"T—tell me, Haurchefant," she said with a hazy grin, then moaned as he withdrew and pierced deep into her again. He looked absolutely consumed by lust at this point, squeezing at her ass and a breast, clearly on the verge of letting loose and giving her all she'd asked for. "If—if I want it so bad that there's naught else you can do but give it to me, then... who is truly taking who?"

A look of intense realization followed by utter erotic thrill flashed across Haurchefant's handsome features, his eyes narrowing in a grin.

He said her name teasingly, then stood tall above her, lifting her hips off the desk's surface, still halfway inside her. She made to brace herself on her arms and he reached out a hand as if to stop her, and so she stilled, her body tense, heart pounding, feeling physically rather helpless, half-suspended and half-draped across his fine wooden desk.

"I truly love the way you think," he said, eyes admiring and playful, and she couldn't help but smile at his praise, her heart skipping a beat at the word love. "It is... splendid to think of how, when I fill your beautiful body to the brim with my come, it will be you who is truly taking me," he breathed, mouth dropping open as his eyes roamed her body, like he was clearly imagining it. The heat of need inside her burned scalding hot at his daring words, yet all she could do was watch and let out a needy moan, desperate to hear more. "Yet... are you not laid bare, spread open wide for me atop my personal desk, having begged to be pounded and taken?"

"P-perhaps," she conceded, suddenly feeling rather at his mercy— he thrusted in firmly once more, and she let out a cry of shocked pleasure. "Oh, oh gods yes," she moaned.

"So lovely, so perfect," he gushed. "Look, my friend... look how you take me like this," he instructed, and she looked up at where they were joined, her hips held up in his strong hands. He slid out of her, and she watched as ilm after slick ilm of him appeared before her, his thick head exiting her with an incredible stretch and an absolutely lewd, wet pop. Then, lining up with her tight entrance once again, he pressed in hard, her body pushed back against the desk as she was filled so deep, every bit of him disappearing inside of her. She bit her lip, feeling hazy at the sight, at the sensation of him stretching her so full. "Is that not the most splendidly erotic thing you have ever seen?"

Gods, but he felt so good, a strangled sound of pleasure and agreement escaping her throat. The sight of it made her head swim, and she could feel herself quickly beginning to lose all reason to the desire to be fucked, to be claimed by him, to be taken in whatever way Haurchefant saw fit. He — he had her heart after all, and her his — should they not also have each others' bodies as often as they liked?

"Is this—is this what you wanted, my heart?" he asked as he slammed his hips against her again, watching her with a look of utmost satisfaction as she writhed with pleasure beneath him. She nodded desperately, and he met her with a smile both loving and utterly debauched as he began to piston inside her steadily now, hard and deep.

"Yes, gods, yes—" she cried, feverish with all-consuming heat, scorching up from where Haurchefant was now making his mark deep inside her, his muscular body moving so erotically above her as he fucked her with sweet abandon. "But—but I want your lips, your hands—"

"Oh," he moaned her name, "then you shall have them," he granted passionately, pulling out before setting her back down onto the desk and beginning to curve over her. Already she ached for him to fill her again.

But, but no, if he did this she would need to lift herself partway to meet him again, and he wouldn't be able to fully let loose bent so low, and—

Her legs already shaky, she pushed herself up, meeting him halfway and placing a hand on his shoulder. Her nose brushed his, and his startled eyes met hers, which were suddenly afire.

"My legs," she said, lifting one with effort despite its weakness, need burning through her. "Put my ankles up against your shoulders and hold me — kiss me, touch me, take me... and don't stop if I come," she continued, the words pouring out of her feverishly. "Please."

"Halone have mercy," he answered in a near-moan, before grabbing her calves and, doing as he was told, lifting her legs flush against him, her feet on either side of his head. "Had I... had I but known you concealed such powerful need, I would have taken you weeks ago," he groaned, lining himself up with her entrance again. "Oh," he moaned as he pressed into her, and she whined beneath him, the pressure of him inside her at this new angle making her nearly dizzy. "My heart, I will give you all you desire and more," he swore, his sapphire eyes burning dark. A strong arm encircled her waist and pulled her up towards him, her back arching into his touch as he held her close — and then his lips were upon hers in a hot, messy kiss, a tingle of levin shuddering down her spine.

Gods... gods, it was so intimate, Haurchefant holding her tightly in his arms and kissing her deep, as he began to rock into her once more, filling her so good she couldn't help but whine around his tongue, her body shaking from pleasure. They broke for air and her heart pounded as her eyes met his, filled with so much sheer desire and a firmer emotion she couldn't quite name... a protectiveness perhaps? Whatever it was, the way he looked at her, the way he held her, the way he pressed her legs back nearly to her own shoulders as he fucked her so deep, stretching her body to its limits, witnessing every moment of her trembling and moaning because of him, had her feeling.... oh, gods, it had her feeling...

"What... do you see," she panted weakly, every bit of her heated, feverish, utterly lost in him. "Tell me," she added, breaking off into a whimper as he pierced her with another thrust, her body bouncing back against his arms. Gods, she was so close, just from him inside her—

"I see you," Haurchefant answered, voice breaking, his hand to her cheek as he made shorter, fluid thrusts that made her whimper. "Beautiful, ex—" he cut off in a moan as he slid inside her again, his grip on her trembling slightly. "Exquisitely pleasurable," he panted, voice strained. "About to come apart in my arms. Wonderfully— so wonderfully mine," he moaned possessively, holding her tight and pressing a sucking kiss to her tender neck, even as he did not cease pounding into her. She answered with a whine, her legs beginning to tremble, and his lips left her skin so he could draw his head back and watch her, fucking her harder and deeper now, clearly already near lost again himself.

"Yours," she agreed in a moan, her weakened hands sliding up his neck and threading through his hair, her voice desperate, so close now, and the way he looked at her now — stars, like he knew she was his, like he was making her his, like there was nothing more in the world he'd ever wanted than her—

"Mine," he moaned heatedly, his eyes both possessive and amazed, and gods... gods, it was nearly too much.

She felt the heat in her build to a scalding peak, and though she threw her head back as he brought his hand to her throbbing clit and rubbed slick circles, she could feel his eyes on her as clear as the bright wave of pleasure that pierced through her, bringing her, her whole body tensing in ecstacy, finally over the edge—

"Oh yes, yes, my heart, come for me, come and I will fill you so full—"

She came, so hard, lights bursting behind her eyelids, toes curling, her whole body tensing and spasming in his arms, crying out, her aching walls squeezing tightly around him as he continued to take her even through the throes of her coming, making it go on for — gods — so long it began to ache. And—and just when she thought she might break at so much pleasure, he held her so tightly, the strength of his arms around her making her whimper and feel weak as he buried himself fully with an incredible panting groan. Haurchefant spilled deep inside her, heat flooding her in the wake of her coming, his body trembling against hers, his head pressed to her neck.

He held her like that for a few long moments, his face against the slope of her shoulder, her legs pressed straight up against him, his slowly softening cock still pressed deep inside her, his arms relaxing a bit but still not letting her go. Bit by bit she came out of the haze of her pleasure, finding not only her body but her heart feeling so full, protected and his.

The Warrior of Light sighed a happy, deeply contented sound, palm slipping from his hair to gently cup his pointed ear, and he stirred, tilting his head first into her hand before pulling back and getting a good look at her.

She met his awed, spent face with a loving smile, suddenly feeling nearly shy. His beautiful lips parted in soft surprise before melting into a brilliant smile of his own, meeting her with such deep affection she thought... she thought this might be it. His lips came to hers, kissing her tenderly before reluctantly parting to pant an exhausted breath, his eyelids fluttering shut for a moment as he gathered himself.

He breathed her name as he met her gaze once more, and the feeling settled deeper in her chest, the words coming to her mind unbidden. I love you, she thought, aching deeply with affection, but she simply smiled at him, not letting the words yet pass her lips. It was surely too soon to know, and not the right time, she thought... but she felt it, her mind spinning with wonder.

"We... we seem to have found ourselves in quite the position," he breathed with a sheepish grin, breaking some of the tension she felt. "...I fear if I pull out of you here I will leave some rather obvious stains on my carpet, and I wouldn't wish to subject anyone else to cleaning up after us. Shall I carry you to bed?"

She nodded, smiling sheepishly herself, and he took a deep breath, pulling her up, flush to his chest, as he carefully stood. Her legs dropped to hook tightly around his waist, careful not to let him slip out of her, and she wrapped her arms securely around his neck and shoulders, nodding in confirmation once she'd situated herself.

He carried her carefully from his office and through the bright light of his main chamber, flicking off the oil lamps as he passed through to his bedchamber.

His room was warm, bathed only in the flickering glow of his hearth's firelight, his bedding all cleaned and made neatly. Very carefully — though a bit awkwardly, the both of them making sounds of precarious balance and laughing softly with one another at the ridiculousness of it — he pulled back the covers and laid her down on the edge of his bed, her body resting gently upon soft sheets.

Twisting carefully, he grabbed a soft washcloth from the drawer of his nightstand, and held it beneath them as he withdrew, making certain he caught their mess as he did. Having wiped them both clean, he held up a finger with a sudden thought and returned with a clean pair of her underwear.

"It may be best to wear these," he offered slightly bashfully, "to prevent our currently rather harried house stewards from needing to do more laundry. I had... not realized how much of a mess such... intimate activities could make."

She nodded and slipped them on, cocking an eyebrow with amusement as he donned a pair of smalls as well. "'Such intimate activities?' Surely, Haurchefant, you were far from a virgin before I got to you," she laughed. He brought a hand to his mouth, pretending to seem shocked and offended as he slipped into bed next to her.

"You wound me, my friend! I was raised as properly as any son of House Fortemps and would not engage in such impropriety," he said in feigned outrage before devolving into a snort of laughter. She giggled at this, flipping over to rest her head on the pillows and face him, and he joined in, laughing with her as he pulled the covers up to their hips. "But, no, well... in truth I have most certainly always used a layer of protection," he admitted, eyes meeting her with a slight vulnerability to them. "So in that respect, you are my first."

The Warrior's heart felt open and warm at this, her expression softening into a wondering smile. She brought a hand up to cup his cheek, and he searched her eyes, his lips parted softly.

"In that respect, you are mine too," she confided, and a flicker of something she couldn't name but delighted in seeing passed across his eyes, before he met her with a decidedly lovelorn smile that made her chest ache. "...the arcanima I employ has been refined over centuries and works quite as well as more conventional methods, if you're worried," she added, cheeks flushed, glancing down at his chest.

"I am... not worried," he sighed softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "It is quite difficult to worry about much anything at the moment, I confess," he added, and she let out a breath, looking up at him again. "But I trust you, my heart. If you wish for us to remain bonded to one another in such a way, well then... in all honesty, your first offer was so tempting I may well have given in even had it been most unwise," he admitted with a nervous laugh. "My own existence suddenly makes perfect sense," he murmured, then added quickly, "but—no. I am... that I could share myself with you in this way... and to hear that I am the only one... Fury," he whispered her name.

His eyes broke away from hers this time as he spoke, seeming uncharacteristically vulnerable. With a feeling of... Is this love? blossoming tenderly in her chest, the Warrior of Light scooted in closer to him, stroking her thumb over his cheek. "Haurchefant," she breathed, and he softened into her touch, eyes flicking back to hers. "I—"

No further words passed her lips. Instead her face drew close to his as if by magnetism, her lips brushing his. Letting out a heavy breath against her face, Haurchefant kissed her, pressing his lips firmly to hers, meeting her with gentle flicks of tongue.

I think I love you, she found herself thinking, her eyes fluttering shut as his hands wound around her waist and threaded through her hair, holding her close. She kissed him back just as tenderly, slowly, feeling a bright shining warmth spread all the way to the ends of her limbs.

As they parted, breathing deeply, Haurchefant meeting her with wide cerulean eyes, he smiled with deep affection. "You make me feel things I thought I would rightly not get the chance to, being as I am," he said, and she felt a pang in her chest. "I am... deeply grateful."

"...Me too," she replied, then, with a sigh of contentment and near-nervous feeling, wrapped her arms around his broad back and sunk in close, resting her cheek against his chest. "I couldn't be happier to be yours."

A soft sound echoed in his chest along with his steady, speeding heartbeat, and strong muscular arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly to him. "And I yours," he murmured, pressing his lips to the crown of her head.

They simply held each other in silence for an endless age, Haurchefant's large calloused hands gently caressing her soft skin, the Warrior running her hands along his back and occasionally meeting his firm chest with a fond kiss. He even smelled so nice; like cocoa and woodsmoke and a hint of light masculine sweat. The longer he held her, the more her racing heart calmed — but the longer he held her, the more certain she was about how she felt.

A shiver ran through her suddenly, the room having chilled a few degrees as the untended fire began to dim, and he released her from his grip, bending down to pull the duvet over them both.

"There we are," he said as she pushed herself up, nestling in under his chin, and he pulled the heavy, wonderfully soft blankets up to her neck. "I would not have you feeling cold in my care."

"...you," she mumbled, lips brushing his skin.

"Mmm?" he asked with a slight laugh, her mouth having apparently tickled his sensitive neck. He pulled back from her slightly to look down at her when she didn't answer, blinking curiously.

"Don't let me worry you," she answered quickly, cheeks flushed. "It was just a moment's chill, I'm hardly cold. Certainly not now," she sighed, luxuriating under his warm duvet. "What is in this thing anyway? I've never had a blanket so wonderful."

Haurchefant smiled, running his fingers over the hemmed edge of the duvet. "Black chocobo down, shed from spring chicks I believe," he explained. "And an outer layer woven from heavier winter flight feathers, also shed in spring. Wonderfully protective against the cold, and a specialty of our house."

The Warrior nodded, intrigued. "And the cover?"

"That I'm less sure on," he admitted, "Some sort of velvet, perhaps? But it is rather soft, is it not?" She nodded emphatically, and he smiled again. "It pleases me to see you enjoying the comforts of my home."

"Mmm," she hummed, smiling back up at him. "I think I shall take advantage of your hospitality most often," she said with a slightly mischievous smile.

"I hope that you do," Haurchefant answered earnestly, his eyes catching the twinkle in hers curiously.

With a sudden whim she brought her finger up between his brows, tracing it down the bridge of his nose. He started a moment, blinking, then watched her with amused curiosity as she brushed her fingertip over the distinctive notch in his nose and down to its slightly hooked tip. "Have you been told you have an exceptionally handsome nose? Because you do," she praised, admiring.

"I—I do?" he began with a slight laugh, then grinned rather confidently as she nodded seriously in response, his chest puffing up underneath her other palm. "I suppose it is quite distinctive."

"And your eyes... they're a beautiful shade of blue, like a warm summer sky."

"Now—now surely you are simply flattering me, my heart. ...By all means, please do go on," he grinned with mischief, watching with great amusement, clearly wondering where on Hydaelyn she could be going with this.

"And it is so endearing the way you preen at a compliment," she said finally, cupping his chin and jaw in her hand.

His cheeks tinged pink, the flush spreading even to his pale ears. "You—you devious little— is it, though?" he asked nervously, his voice pitching up.

She laughed, dropping her hand to his shoulder and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Yes," she said simply, beaming up at him. "It truly is. But stars, that was easier than I thought to make you blush," she giggled. "I trust you are feeling rather warm now too?"

"Quite," Haurchefant mumbled, rubbing his jaw where he'd touched her, his face still hot. "We—we should by all reasonable measures soon be sleeping, but you wish to tease me? Even after you took me apart twice this evening?"

"I—" she began, opening and closing her mouth. "Well, yes. I suppose I did."

He brought a hand to her cheek, his eyes narrowing in a teasing smirk of his own. "Must I please my needy lover once more before bed for good measure?"

The Warrior's heart jumped, her face flushing now. "N-no... I am quite well and pleased already, I promise," she said, tilting her head in his hand and pressing a kiss to his palm. "I am just... feeling rather giddy," she admitted sheepishly, "and I knew not how else to express it..."

He beamed at her, his smile so beautiful and bright she swore Hydaelyn herself would be jealous, and she felt herself flushing further. Oh, she'd meant to tease him, but in a moment of foolishness she'd temporarily forgotten that he was quite the master of teasing.

"My heart," he said sweetly, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth, watching with satisfaction as she tried to kiss him back but was left pursing her lips in his general direction. "You are adorable," he said, smiling with a mischief that might have vexed her if she didn't find it so endearing. "So truly fierce in battle, so demanding and receptive in matters of the flesh, yet you find yourself laying in bed with me after the fact and feel the need to praise me simply to see me blush? Oh, I will be keeping you all for myself, I think," he said, kissing the other corner of her mouth.

"You had better," she pouted, and he grinned and let her bend in to kiss him, kissing her back firmly. He could feel her still smiling against her lips, even as he gave her a tiny flick of tongue, just enough to flare a spark within her for a moment. "You do know how I feel about you, after all," she muttered as they broke the kiss and he planted one against her forehead.

"I do?" he asked, smugly feigning innocence. "And how is that?"

She swatted him on the shoulder and he laughed, still grinning. "Your graceful, mercifully gentle strike is not an answer, my heart," he said. "And you were so open about your feelings this morning—"

"Haurchefant," she chided warningly, still smiling as she tried and mostly failed to don a look of stern disapproval.

"Unfortunate though it may be, this is who you're falling for," he said, gesturing vaguely to himself. "I pray you aren't having second thoughts?"

His expression turned rather sincere as those last words escaped his lips, but he didn't look concerned — his eyes simply met hers with genuine affection.

"No," she replied just as sincerely, and watched his mouth fall softly open, then close in a look of deep fondness. "You are, for better or for worse, exactly who I want to fall in love with, Haurchefant," she said, eyes breaking away from his demurely. "I feel as though it will always be an adventure, being with you."

"Truly?" he asked, eyes bright on hers, clasping her hands in his.

She nodded, meeting him with a smile. "I—I only hope my burdens don't weigh too heavy on you... You've seen the kind of trouble I seem to attract," she sighed. "And I so rarely seem to be in one place for very long, and..."

He lifted their hands between them, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, silencing her. "I've seen the kind of trouble you rather heroically handle with the support of your allies, yes," he reframed firmly, eyes serious on hers. "I, too, am devoted to defending my people from forces of destruction. If I am to help you lift your shield, my heart, it is not any more burden upon me if you are also helping to lift my own," he said, and she drew in a breath, feeling bolstered and moved by his words.

"As for your life of adventure... mayhap one day, Fury willing perhaps even soon, I shall be able to join you," he said quietly, meeting her eyes with a look of fond hope. "But until then, my heart, I am patient. I can endure. 'Twill only make our reunions all the sweeter," he promised, his eyes steady and focused and yearning with affection that made a powerful emotion rush over her in a soothing yet urgent wave.

"Haurchefant," she breathed, voice tremulous with feeling, struggling to restrain the words she felt might be too early to say. He let go of her hands, his eyes searching hers, though she knew not for what. "I—"

"I love you," he said simply, and she inhaled, stunned. "I—I know it is yet rather early to say so, and... and I would not pressure you to reciprocate, but... I have loved others, and I know what I feel," he said, smiling almost nervously, so much affection in the way he looked at her it made her ache. "I... I have not felt this strongly for anyone else before you. I think you will find there is little I would not weather for your sake, my dearest heart."

"Haurchefant," the Warrior of Light choked out in a near-whisper, her heart hammering in her chest, an incredible surge of emotion rushing through her.

He loves me, she thought with soaring wonder, and — and by the way he looked at her, sincere and sure but at the same time immensely vulnerable, his eyes dripping with deep affection — she knew it to be true.

"...I love you, too," she said quietly, softly, as if she was afraid the words might scare him away. She felt it in her heart, in her bones, in the way she yearned to be close to him, to be his utterly and completely, in the way she pictured him in her future, fighting and laughing by her side. Seeing his love for her expressed in his eyes was the final piece that clicked it into place — this was love, and she knew it.

Haurchefant's mouth fell open, his blue eyes wide and swimming with emotion, searching her with bewildered hope. "You... you do?"

"I do," she said, an aching smile coming to her lips unbidden. "I've been trying not to say so for a while now actually," she laughed nervously. "I thought this was supposed to happen a lot slower, and—and I didn't want to rush anything, but— I love you, Haurchefant, and I need to say it," she repeated, the words tumbling out of her in a surge of feeling that — gods — was like none other she'd ever felt, like she'd never been quite so alive and free.

He called her name, overcome with emotion, and as she looked at him she swore she could see what looked like tears welling in his eyes, though she'd never seen such an overjoyed expression upon anyone's face in her life. "You... you are sure? You really... love me?"

She nodded, meeting him with an unwavering, vulnerable smile. "I love you, Haurchefant."

He drew in a deep, labored breath, then swallowed, wiping his eyes with his hand. "I—I am sorry, it is just... I have gone so long believing it my fate to go without hearing such sincere, devoted words, and... and to hear them from you of all people, I..."

She laid her hand gently upon his cheek and he let out a heavy breath, stilling and relaxing underneath her touch, his eyes flitting shut, beautiful, long lashes underneath pale, messy bangs.

When he opened his eyes he looked upon her with longing and wonder, then bent in even closer to her, their faces ilms apart.

"I love you," he said again, his face clear and earnest, then pressed his lips to hers, capturing her in a kiss that had a blazing heat shooting through her, warming her from his lips to her chest and then through her whole body. She returned his kiss with passion, circling her arms tightly around him as he wrapped his around her, tongues grazing one another, wonderfully and lovingly intimate.

It... it was love that she felt, an all-encompassing yearning to be as close as she possibly could be to Haurchefant, a deep longing affection, a wonderful safety and trust. How long had it been love? Had it perhaps been love all along? She didn't know, but in this moment, it no longer mattered. She knew that now it was love for certain, filling her lungs, pulsing through her veins, carried and expressed in every touch they shared.

As they held each other safe in their shared embrace, lips and tongues meeting one another with a slow yet intense passion, a feverish, brilliant heat blazing bright in the Warrior's heart, she found she knew, without a single doubt, that whatever the future had in store for them, whatever trials may come, they had the power to face it — and they would face it together.

Their lips parted for them to catch labored breaths, and Haurchefant's brilliant blue eyes met hers, warm and soft and full of what she knew now was love. She cracked a smile at him, and he met her with one of his own — and they began to laugh, full of joy, the soft and lovely low tone of his laughter vibrating through her against his chest.

"I don't think I can sleep now," she confessed, meeting him with an open smile.

"Neither can I, I fear," Haurchefant laughed. "Though I do rather feel as though I could take on absolutely anything at the moment."

"You can," she replied, grasping his hand in both of hers, feeling it fervently. "And so can I, I believe. Gods, Haurchefant, is this... always so intense?"

He laughed conspiratorially, meeting her with his eyes smiling in that handsome way she loved to see. "No," he answered plainly. "I feel the Fury has perhaps blessed us specifically."

"Then perhaps I'd best start behaving more devoutly," the Warrior laughed. 

"I'd be more than happy to take you to Halonic mass in the city, if you truly wish," he said, his eyes narrowing playfully. "Though I would not worry, I admittedly haven't attended regularly in years," he confessed. 

"Oh, I would love to go, actually," she answered brightly, and he blinked in surprise.

"Truly?"

She nodded. "I make it a point to immerse myself in the cultures of each new place I visit, when I can... and while I may not follow Ishgardian doctrine, I do keep faith in all the Twelve, Halone included," she explained.

"Well then, it's a date," Haurchefant answered, laughing. "...Admittedly not a very good date. For all my earnest faith in the Fury, our ceremonies in her honor can be... rather vexingly dull sometimes. The sermons especially."

"In that case, I shall trust you to make the rest of our date rather more interesting," she said with a tone of mischief, touching a finger to his lips.

Haurchefant smiled, looking rather pleased at this. "That can certainly be arranged, my love," he replied, taking her hand in his and pressing a kiss to the pads of her fingers.

My love. 

The smile that spread across her face was so wide it nearly hurt, and Haurchefant met it with one of his own, her heart pounding steady and fast as he kissed down her fingers and onto the palm of her hand, then lingered at her wrist, coaxing a soft sound of pleasure out of her.

Oh... what did it truly matter if they didn't get any sleep tonight? They were in love, and they were together, entwined in Haurchefant's oh-so-comfortable bed — all else could wait. The storm slowed to a standstill past the frost-encrusted windowpane; but as the Warrior brought her hand to Haurchefant's ear, thumbing the clasp he wore, and he met her eyes once more, his face flushed and radiant with affection, neither of them noticed, so loud and insistent was the beating of their hearts.

Chapter Text

Haurchefant Greystone had never found himself so truly happy in all of his years. That was not to say his life had been bereft of joy, for it certainly hadn't been; he was blessed with true friends, comrades and companions, and good men for family; and even in the darkest, most trying days of his life, he had always found someone or something to live for.

Yet as the Warrior of Light lay tangled with him beneath his covers, lit dimly by the fading flames of his hearth, tracing the lines of the scars on his upper body with her fingers — and then her lips, stirring a warmth in him that made him gasp out a sigh, he truly could not find a single worry to cloud his mind.

She loved him. The Warrior of Light, his closest friend, the woman he admired most, now his lover too — she loved him. That he could be so fortunate, so blessed... it beggared belief, but yet there was no denying it.

After they'd shared those words with one another, there was no way either of them could sleep, so charged they both were with vibrant energy. So instead, spent from the night's earlier activities, they now laid awake in his bed, touching and talking and finding so much pleasure in each other's company.

"What about this one?" she asked, running her fingers over a faded scar that curved over the thick muscle of his shoulder, near where it joined his neck.

"Ah, wyvern's claw," he answered proudly, chest puffing out somewhat. "When I was still getting situated here in Camp Dragonhead, accompanying my men on their patrols to get better accustomed to these lands, we were attacked by Dravanian outflyers. There were seven of them, and only four of us, but we had our backs to a crevasse you see, and there was no choice but to fight. Not that we would have done aught else, faced with invaders in our own lands."

The Warrior nodded seriously, listening keenly to about the fourth tale Haurchefant had told of how he'd received one of his scars, all at her request. He felt warm, seeing her rapt interest in old stories that often bordered on mundane... but of course they wouldn't be to a fellow warrior, would they? He continued, eager as he'd ever been.

"Three of us had managed to slay a number of them and push forward — but as I found myself gaining ground, I realized we were short a man. I turned to see him, disarmed, desperately shielding his face with his arms as a wyvern assaulted him, pushing him perilously close to the edge." He could remember the moment clear as day, the terror he'd felt that his inaction may lose a man's life, a life that had so very recently been put into his hands when he'd assumed his post.

"I could not but act. I rushed in, shield high, and slammed the beast to the ground, driving my sword through its neck, slaying it. But when I turned to see if the man still stood, another wyvern swooped down from behind, tearing into my shoulder with its claws," he continued with a grimace. "I was out a shield arm for about a week, even with the aid of our chirurgeons. No lasting damage though, thankfully. And we all made it out alive; I certainly cannot say the same for the dragons which assaulted us," he added with an incline of his head. "My men made short work of the last of them."

"Mmm, sounds awfully like heroics to me," the Warrior said, her knuckle at her lips.

Haurchefant laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, no. I had no choice — if I didn't act, he very well may have perished," he explained. "And I was still green as a commander; I should never have let him fall behind and out of formation in the first place. There was little glory in it, I assure you."

"Well," she replied, bending in to press a soft kiss to the scar in question, making a smile and a heat flicker within him. "'Tis still a record of a life you saved, regardless."

"...Indeed it is," he conceded, smiling. She met his eyes and, seeming pleased, continued her gentle caressing, her soft hands running over his chest, searching out another mark she had not yet asked after.

"And this one?" she asked, finger tracing a thin, short line across his upper rib cage.

"Oh— simply a training accident," he answered rather modestly, grimacing. "My poor partner — a new recruit I was to instruct — slipped on some ice hidden beneath the snowpack. Grazed me with the spear he'd meant to hand to me."

She laughed, bright and clear. "Oh dear. Wait — you trained with the spear as well?"

He inclined his head in confirmation, his fingers idly twirling a lock of her hair. "Yes; all new knights of Ishgard receive foundational training in a number of weapons, to avoid less-than-ideal circumstances from catching us off guard. I can also wield an axe and a greatsword; not with any great level of mastery, though, I fear. ...And you would likely laugh if you witnessed my bowmanship."

The Warrior nodded along as he spoke, seeming to find this very logical — then grinned a little. "Oh? I'm certain you could best me in a contest of archery, at least," she said, and he cocked an eyebrow, doubtful. "Held a bow for about an hour before silently ducking out of the Archer's Guild."

Haurchefant laughed. "Oh my. Well, I will not let slip your weakness if you do not spread mine," he added with a teasing glimmer in his eye.

"'Tis a deal," she agreed, stretching up and planting a quick kiss to his lips. He met her eyes and hummed a sound of pleased agreement, then began tracing his own hands down her neck and shoulders, pulling down the covers slightly so he could get a better look at her.

Most of her scars were much less prominent than his, despite Haurchefant being certain she'd seen quite as many battles as him if not more; certainly she'd faced far fiercer opponents. Her near-constant ready access to healing magicks had clearly made a difference. Yet they were there, and as he traced a thin line he found to the left of her breast she shivered under his touch, in a way that did not speak of cold.

"How did you get this scar, if I may ask as well?" He asked, not wanting to pry if she was uncomfortable — instead her eyes lit up, apparently rather thrilled he'd decided to make this an exchange.

"Oh, this one? I think that's from when I fought that pack of coeurls," she answered thoughtfully.

"A pack of them? On your own?"

She winced slightly. "Well, yes... to be fair, when I agreed to cull them I had been told it was merely a pair. Instead there were... five or six, I think? I took a few good swipes, but all was well in the end. I think this is the only one that didn't fully heal up."

"Impressive," he replied, imagining it. The Warrior of Light, fending off six ravenous beasts all on her own with... what, her powerful magicks? Her fists? "Oh, I cannot wait to fight by your side in a real battle once more. To witness you carve up the battlefield, sword and shield in hand..."

"I'm rather looking forward to it myself," she said with a grin. "Mayhap I can assist you soon?"

"Mayhap you can," he replied, eyes twinkling as they met hers, before pressing a relatively chaste kiss to the top of her breast. She flushed a little, and excited by her response, he kissed gently at the edge of her nipple, watching the pink at her face deepen.

"H-Haurchefant," she laughed, stroking a hand through the side of his hair.

"Mm, my apologies, but I can hardly resist showing affection to the beautiful, near-naked woman in my arms."

"Who said you needed to resist?" the Warrior answered, looking down at him with an open, affectionate interest that had Haurchefant's heart skipping a beat.

"Very well," he murmured against her skin, letting his hands cup both of her beautiful, perfect breasts, and gently pressed his lips to her nipple. Her lips parted softly above her, her breath coming a bit more quickly underneath his touch; and he could not resist flicking his tongue out against her skin, spinning a circle around the bud of her nipple and feeling it harden against him. She made a faint, soft moan at this, which sent a pulse of heat running through his chest and down his spine. "...I shall do as I please, then, if you so wish it."

She nodded down at him, breathing in deeply, and he met her with a smile. Fury but she is beautiful, he thought once again, as he pulled back the covers enough to expose her to the waist, tracing his hands and lips over her curves. She continued to stroke his hair, which by all evidence she seemed to have taken a particular liking to — he sighed into her touch when her nails met his scalp, sending gentle, soothing shivers down his spine.

He hummed against her sternum, kissing lightly across her ribs, admiring the softness of her skin, the tight muscle that revealed itself as she moved.

His eyes then caught on a deeper, more reddened scar than the others — clearly a bit more fresh than most, it sliced across her side above her waist and was several ilms long.

"What left you with this?" he asked with a bit of concern, running gentle fingertips across its contours.

"Ah," she breathed, still flushed from his attentions, her brow furrowing as she recalled it. "van Baelsar did."

"The legatus?"

She nodded, eyes shut.

Haurchefant frowned, then pressed his lips to the scar appeasingly. "I am sorry; I did not wish to remind of troubling memories."

She watched him with wide, wondering eyes and shook her head, smiling with an appeasing grimace. "No, no, it is fine. It is true I do not relish taking life... but it was an incredible fight, and I would gladly recount it for you."

He smiled gratefully and she began to tell him in detail of her siege on Castrum Meridianum, of how she'd pursued the legatus deep into an underground research facility which housed the Ultima Weapon, and of how she'd finally faced him on a massive lift, as it descended deep into the earth. Their clash had been immensely thrilling. As frustrating as attempting to reason with a man with such stubborn, misplaced ideals had been — Gaius van Baelsar had been strong, and tested her every limit.

"I know not how exactly he managed it without the command of aether, but at one point he summoned illusory doubles of himself," she explained. "One of their attacks caught me off guard while I faced him. I quickly patched myself up with healing magic, but there was not enough time to do a proper job; I faced not only van Baelsar alone, but the Ultima Weapon itself, with this injury," she elaborated, running her fingers over it.

Haurchefant took a breath in, feeling awed. "And won," he added.

"And won," she agreed, smiling rather humbly. "Barely, and thanks only to Hydaelyn's blessing in the end, but I won," she conceded. A flicker of something akin to doubt passed over her eyes after she spoke this, he thought — but it was quickly replaced by a look of deep affection that struck him especially hard after hearing such a tale of her resilient heroism. He brushed her hand with his own, then as her fingers parted, slotted his in between hers, their hands together covering her scar.

"Then it is a record of your victory," he concluded, pressing a soft kiss to their interlocked fingers, looking up at her and feeling very much in love with this remarkable woman.

She flushed, eyes flitting down almost demurely. "I suppose," she allowed.

"'Tis aught the matter?" he asked softly, noticing something complex in her expression.

She blinked and met his gaze, seeming surprised. "Oh, no," she dismissed, stroking his upper arm reassuringly with her free hand. "I'm just not used to... being looked at so closely. I've always made an effort to hide my scars, or else heal myself well to prevent getting any in the first place," she admitted with a grimace. "I feared that I might not be... pleasant to look at, as a woman, were they too clearly visible."

"Ah... I see," he said, sliding up towards her and gently cupping her cheek. "I have heard that is the common way of things outside of Ishgard. Yet, my people most often find scars something to be celebrated — proof that despite the odds, you survived. I am quite of the same mind as my countrymen; I think the body you've built through harsh trial is incredibly beautiful, scars and all," he explained, looking her in the eye and finding her expression softening, lingering across his features. "Besides, have you not spent the last half a bell so thoroughly admiring mine?"

A glimmering smile flitted across her face, and she reached up to cup his face as well, thumb brushing the base of his ear. "I have," she readily agreed, glancing down his torso, making him flush just a little bit. "There is something about such clear scars so confidently displayed that is..." Haurchefant held his breath, finding that her lingering gaze made his heart beat faster. "...rather powerfully attractive," she admitted, her voice suddenly quiet.

A pulse of building want beat through him at this, causing him to go quite still, his thumb stroking her cheek.

"...Is it?" he asked rather seriously, his nose brushing hers. She met his gaze in what felt like slow motion, and nodded, her dark lashes momentarily blinking shut. Yet another thing she had to say about his appearance that had him reeling — feeling like somehow, against the odds, yet another bit of him was somehow constructed perfectly to allure her without even trying. His heart beat fast, though they had rather thoroughly indulged themselves already and it was certainly well past bedtime. "Then that is... good to hear," he murmured, nearly kissing her but not quite. A tension suspended him there, less than an ilm from her lips. "Please know that my admiration of your scars is much the same."

She licked her lips and nodded, and the warm wetness of her breath against his lips pushed him forward, pressing his lips to hers.

A heat curled through him as they kissed, her lips parting easily at the slightest flick of his tongue, her hand, its fingers still entwined with his, gripping his tightly. He slid his leg between hers, feeling it enveloped by her soft, firm thighs — oh Fury, despite having come undone twice this evening, his pulse began to race, heat once again pooling down below. She stroked up his earlobe with her forefinger and thumb as she curled her tongue against his, and he gasped, a noise like a small panting moan sounding into her mouth.

By the grace of Halone, what was he all of a sudden, a young man barely past his growth spurt? She broke the kiss and looked at him, and he felt himself flush, a little embarrassed at the sudden want that had arisen in him. But her eyes were approving, and she smiled at him, still slowly caressing his ear.

"That... makes me feel much better," she told him, and his heart softened even as his pulse did not calm. "Thank you. I love you," she said, the look she gave him sincere and intimate, and her words stirred his pulse to a near-deafening rush in his ears.

Instead of words of his own, he answered her with his lips pressed firmly to hers, his hand disentangling itself from her fingers and threading up into her hair, gently pushing her onto her back and holding her head in both hands as he kissed her deep. A flame of soft, unbridled passion burned brightly in his chest and he could find no compelling reason to stop himself.

The Warrior of Light went soft and pliable beneath him, making a soft sound of pleasure around his tongue. Her warm, soft hands came to stroke his neck, sending shivers down his spine. Oh, I love you, he thought, willing his body to convey the words he was currently too occupied to speak. He traced his fingers up the shell of her ear, causing her to shudder, panting hot breath into his mouth — his own breath came faster now, his thigh slotting in between hers, pressing against her clothed heat. I want you, I love you...

She let out a slow, soft whine of pleasure at this, gasping and breaking for breath — he caught his breath too, unable to take his eyes off of her.

"Haurchefant," she breathed, her voice soft with desire and delighted surprise.

"I love you so very much," Haurchefant swore, trailing his hand down to cup her face. She nearly trembled beneath him, her beautiful face flushed, bright eyes meeting his. "Though I could not name a time I have ever been more well-pleased in my life, I— in this moment especially, I fear I find you utterly irresistible, my love," he laughed softly, his lips nearly brushing hers again before he gathered enough of himself to continue to speak. "If—if you would have me, I would—"

She answered with a nod and a look of plain emotion — affection and desire, all for him. One of her hands crept up to stroke his pointed ear; he shivered, leaning into her touch.

"Splendid," he sighed, before pressing his lips to hers once more.

Haurchefant kissed the Warrior of Light with such a deep, gentle, aching desire for her that she felt as though she might sink into him and never surface.

She had... never particularly sought to fall in love, before. She'd read her fill of romantic stories as a young woman, and had explored her sexuality somewhat thoroughly when the urges began to hit her, and she'd certainly felt fond of some of the people she'd done so with, but she'd never gotten the kinds of feelings for her brief partners that she'd read about or heard other people sigh longingly over.

Oh, some of them had surely fallen for her, and she'd felt terrible when she'd had to explain she didn't feel the same — how could she, they'd hardly known each other? But it was always as if there was something missing. She'd loved her friends deeply, even had faint stirrings of romantic feelings for one or two on occasion, which she'd always politely suppressed — but had never felt anything she would call being in love.

Yet, Haurchefant — oh, Haurchefant, he was a worthy ally, a truly good friend, a shoulder she could lean on in her time of greatest need... someone she had laughed and cried with, someone with whom she could bring her all to bear and receive nothing less in return. Before she'd known it, perhaps even before she'd faced her desire and all but begged him to kiss her — she'd fallen in love with him, deep feelings blossoming from within her as if they'd always been there, always belonged there.

Of course it was this sweet, sometimes rather silly Elezen man, who'd offered her hope and solace and a friendly smile when others had shut her out, who understood her passion for honing and testing her strength and her desire to protect the innocent more than anyone she'd known. Who didn't begrudge her her weaknesses, and instead saw her as a whole person — not just a hero or an ally to rely upon, but a fallible woman he yet admired and loved.

Of course it was him she'd finally fallen in love with. Who else could it possibly be but him?

His lips on hers, meeting her with a heated yet gentle passion, that stirred warm embers within her, making her heart yearn... His wandering hands, traveling over her, as if making a map of her body to make sure not even an ilm of her went uncharted or escaped his affectionate attentions... The soft needy sounds he made when she brought her hand to caress his ear, knowing her touch there could make him tremble...

Though he had, indeed, so thoroughly sated her before, met with his renewed passion, the radiant heat of his body, and most importantly his love clear even amidst his mounting need, she found that — gods — she wanted him again so badly too.

He broke the kiss only to travel down her neck, causing her to moan for him, heat soaking through her at the touch of his lips and tongue teasing her still-marked skin. He squeezed her breasts with fluid, wanton feeling, rutting softly against her thigh as her hands wandered across his back — she pressed her leg firmly into his hardening cock and he groaned, hissing an inhale against her shoulder.

"Gods, look at you," she whispered, and his eyes came to meet hers, wide and nearly desperate. "So hard again already. I—I didn't think men were ordinarily capable of such feats of endurance," she said with a light chuckle to her voice, trailing her hand down his waist until their height difference let her reach no further.

"Ordinarily no, as grown men, we are most certainly not," he laughed back, seeming slightly bewildered. "I—I am rather certain I will pay for such overindulgence in the morning, however, I—"

Haurchefant's eyes met hers and then flickered downwards, his hand tracing a curve over her stomach, sending a heated ache through her — then his fingers slid beneath her smalls, searching out the bundle of nerves at her apex. Almost immediately he found her, pleasure like levin crackling through her at his touch. She let out a cry, gripping him tightly to steady herself.

"—I fear I simply must have you once more," he breathed, stroking feather-light over her now, making her tremble and sigh with gentle, hot pleasure, a haze of need tingling through her. "I am full certain I have already made you rather sore inside, but if my hands may show the rest of your body how perfect I believe it to be... how much it is adored, how much it is utterly made for pleasure..."

His words made her head spin, flushed and aching with the weight of his love, his incredible regard for her. She nodded slowly, looking into his eyes, feeling heavy with emotion. "Oh, Haurchefant—"

The Warrior grabbed his other arm and tugged gently as if to pull him closer to her, and he understood, disentangling his legs from hers and kneeling beside her. She lifted herself up just enough to prop herself slightly up onto the pile of pillows, making it easier for them to touch one another. His face was flushed and his eyes adoring as she brought a hand to his neck and pulled him down into a kiss, slipping her tongue against his. She let out a breathy moan as he continued to lightly stroke her, waves of heat radiating down her thighs, her heart beating strongly, openly, full of love for him.

As he nibbled at her neck, his fingers against her circling just a bit faster, his other hand squeezing her breast and thumbing her nipple, her mind grew hazy with building pleasure — and she suddenly felt overcome with the need to touch him, to pleasure him as he was doing to her.

She dropped her hand from his neck and reached between them, brushing his hard length as it strained against the soft fabric of his smalls — he let out a gasp and then a groan as she pulled down his waistband just enough to free him, wrapping her hand around him.

"My—my love, you need not—" he gasped, looking at her, his surprised eyes thick with desire even as he protested.

"I very much do need to," she insisted, stroking him, feeling the sheer heat of him, delighting in how her hand slid over him near effortlessly, his soft skin sliding over his hard core — moisture beaded at his tip and she spread it into her palm as she came to it, watching him tremble as she did, his mouth falling open in a soundless groan. "My love," she added with a soft smile, her eyes lidded with pleasure.

"Fury," Haurchefant groaned in response, biting his lip. "Then... then let us take our pleasure together," he conceded in a husky whisper, shuddering as she stroked firmly down him, coating him in his own slick.

She nodded, and he smiled hazily before kissing her with an open mouth, hot and lingering. His hand stuttered against her as she stroked him, firm and steady, her thighs tensing into his touch. It wasn't long until they were both rutting into each other's hands, kissing messily through pants and soft moans, bodies shuddering into each other's touch. She brought her other hand to his ear as they kissed and he groaned loudly, thrusting into her encircling palm as his hand jerked clumsily against her throbbing clit, clearly overwhelmed with sensation. The slick heat of him in her hand, so hard and wet now, only heightened her own pleasure, feeling and knowing that he was right here with her, as lost in the pleasure she gave him as she was in what he gave her.

He quickly regained control of his hand, stroking her at a rhythm that had her vision blurring at the edges — gods, she could feel herself soaking her smalls, desperately grinding against his fingers, losing rhythm as she loosely pumped him, quickly getting lost in it —

"I'm going to make you come, my heart," he swore through panting breaths, pressing a sucking kiss to her neck and earlobe, sending a jolt of heat straight to her core. She moaned, loud and wanton, and he hissed a breath inward, scraping his teeth gently against her neck, making delicious shivers roll down her spine. "Can—can you feel it? How wonderfully your body is made to feel such pleasure? How much pleasure you are—" he drew in another breath with a groan as she pumped him especially hard, her body tense with hot, decadent sensation, "—giving me, in return? Oh, Fury..."

She nodded desperately, overwhelmed at just how good he was making her feel, her heart and body both beginning to tremble from the strain of it. "I do," she answered him, "oh gods, I do—"

With a trembling hand she reached for him and pulled him into a kiss, desperate to feel as close to him as possible when she crested the edge. He met her with a panting mess of moans and lips and tongues, thrusting in earnest into her curled hand now, yet still stroking her steadily, firmly, honing in on the pressure and angle that made her feel so weak with pleasure—

With a strangled cry she came, heat surging through her in pulsating waves, her lips brushing his, her hand wrapping tighter around him out of reflex. Her chest heaved heavy breaths against his, her mind utterly lost to the sheer strength of it. He kept touching her for a few moments as she came but it quickly became too much, and he withdrew his hand, shaking with pleasure above her as he watched her orgasm work through her.

As soon as she came to she opened her eyes to see Haurchefant there above her, his azure eyes desperate, his free hand trembling as he caressed her face gently. She realized her hand had stilled, and was now just holding him loosely — she drew in a breath and pumped him in earnest once more, her eyes locked on his.

"Come for me, my love," she breathed to him, her voice soft and spent. He shut his eyes in a whimper before he trembled and shuddered, grinding unevenly into her hand as she stroked him faster now, leaning up to press a firm kiss to his neck — he came with a staccato groan, spilling hot seed over her hand and across her stomach.

She let go of him and for a few moments they just stilled and caught their breath — her on her back smiling up at the ceiling, her carefully raised hand still covered in his mess; and him on his knees, bent over her in an arc, panting hard with his head on the pillow beside her, his hot breath falling on the slope of her shoulder.

Coming out of his haze Haurchefant lifted his head to look at her, his face utterly spent and slackened with exhausted affection.

"I seem destined to keep making a mess of you," he said, seeming several times as pleased as he was guilty, though still a little guilty nonetheless. "Here — let me clean you up..."

He made to push himself up and go fetch a towel, but filled with a gentle emotion, the Warrior couldn't help bringing her one clean hand to the back of Haurchefant's neck, gently pulling him into a kiss. He made a soft sound of surprise against her lips before kissing back, slow and soft, deep affection radiating through her from where they touched.

As they parted he smiled down at her, his eyes full of what was so very clearly love.

"I—I suppose a towel would be nice," she laughed, and his eyes narrowed in amusement before he pushed himself up and went to retrieve some for them.

He returned with a short stack of washcloths and a small basin of hot water from his bathroom, and they set to wiping themselves down until they were more or less clean. As he brought a wet cloth to her stomach to clean up his spend she'd shuddered at the sensation and sent some of it trickling down her side, Haurchefant making to catch it in a panic; and they both laughed, eyes meeting conspiratorially as if they were both children who knew they had both just done something very naughty, despite this maybe being the most tame thing they'd done all night.

The mess dealt with well enough for now, Haurchefant slid into bed next to her, pulling up the covers and draping an arm over her — she shivered.

"You're cold," she complained, holding his chilled arm against her chest and turning to face away. He noticed the gap between her words and actions and sunk flush against her, cuddling close for warmth. She shivered again and he held her tighter, his other arm slipping snugly around her waist, his head slotting in above her shoulder.

"Not for long," he assured her, relaxing with a shuddering sigh. He was right — her body's warmth quickly spread to him, and she soon let out a deep breath of relief, leaning back into him, feeling held and loved and safe — and rather sleepy, exhaustion finally beginning to fall over her, heavy like the duvet that covered them.

"I love you," she murmured quietly, softly stroking his strong arm around her as her eyelids fell shut, her heart soft and light and full.

"I love you too," Haurchefant replied, his tired voice still full of wonder, nuzzling his nose into her neck and pressing a kiss there, making her stir slightly and then relax into him somehow further.

If she'd stayed awake a moment longer she may have noticed Haurchefant squeezing her tightly once more, his contented heart marveling at his good fortune before drifting off to sleep himself — but fatigue had finally taken her, and she slipped into deep sleep and pleasant dreaming, with only the rhythmic sound of his breathing and his steadily beating heart against her back to lull her asleep.

Chapter Text

The first thing that filtered into Haurchefant Greystone's hazy, sleep-addled consciousness upon waking was a distant, rhythmic thumping. The second was a soft, sleepy groan accompanied by a warm face burrowing against his neck. The third, which finally got him to blink open his bleary eyes, was a beam of sunlight shining warm upon his face.

Oh, he thought looking down at the blanketed form pressed against him, breathing in a heavy waking breath, a smile spreading across his lips, the Warrior of Light is in my bed with me, still sleeping, how unbearably lovely a thing to wake to.

Then the distant pounding resumed, a voice accompanying it, and he immediately jolted fully awake.

"Lord Haurchefant, I know you must still be in there!" came an exasperated call from a voice he recognized. Oh dear. Oh, no. What—what time is it? Have I slept in?

The woman in his arms began to stir at the sound of his loyal subordinate Yaelle calling for him from outside the door to his quarters, and she rubbed her eyes with her knuckles and stretched, her face scrunched up as if she seemed frustrated at being woken. Oh, she is adorable, Haurchefant thought, his heart feeling tugged toward her at the sight.

"Lord Haurchefant, please," came Ser Yaelle's voice, sounding exhausted but somehow ringing clear, and the Warrior tensed suddenly, her eyes snapping to his.

"I... I fear we may have slept through til late morning," he whispered to her with a grimace, stroking her hair in a quick gesture of comfort before lifting himself to a sitting position.

"Is that... Ser Yaelle?" the Warrior whispered back, her face panicked. "Oh gods, what if she comes in and finds us here—"

"She doesn't have a key," he answered, then, their eyes meeting again, he stifled a laugh. Oh Halone, he'd snuck a girl into his quarters and now was worried about getting caught in the act like he was yet an impulsive teenage boy... the sheer ridiculousness of it. The Warrior saw him nearly laughing and began to giggle softly herself, bringing a hand to her mouth to silence the sound.

"Go, go," she urged him in a hurried whisper, her palms pressed gently against his chest and stomach.

Haurchefant smiled gleefully and pressed a quick peck to her lips. "Stay here, I won't be long," he whispered, bolting upright as the knocking resumed.

"Be right there!" he shouted to Yaelle as he stood, dashing across the chilled room to pull on his robe — oh, Fury bless him, it wasn't there; he'd left it in his study, hadn't he. He rummaged through his wardrobe in a rush, fumbling through his clothes to find a spare — he could hear his beloved giggling over his antics with a palm over her mouth from where she still lay in his nice, warm bed. He met her with an almost accusatory grin as he wrapped himself in said spare robe, pulling on pants as well. She smiled widely and slipped her mouth and nose beneath the edge of his duvet, her smiling eyes watching him with clear mirth.

Right. Ser Yaelle. She was waiting for him, and he was certain that if he did ignore her for too long, she would go get Ser Corentiaux to aid her, and he did have a key for use in emergencies. He stepped into his slippers, warmed near his hearth, and made for the door—

"Your neck!" the Warrior hissed in a hushed shout of alarm, as if she'd suddenly realized. "The marks—"

Haurchefant's eyes widened, his hand going to his neck. Oh. Yes. Right. The marks the Warrior's kisses had left him with had likely faded somewhat, but it wouldn't do to answer the door with a bare neck covered in the plain evidence of his last couple nights of passion. Poor Yaelle certainly did not deserve that image of her commander seared into her memory.

He scrambled to find a tall enough sweater, awkwardly pulling his robe halfway off so that he could slip it on once he found it — the knocking at his door had ceased, but the sense of blatant urgency he felt only built. The Warrior, apparently sensing this, leapt out of bed, landing rather soundlessly on her feet and rushing over to him.

"Here," she whispered, reaching her hands up towards him as she approached. He bent down, eyes meeting hers, and she placed her hands on either side of his neck. Warm, tingling aether flooded his skin, in a larger burst than the night before, and his eyes widened with shock. Would this not fatigue her? Yet she met him with an only slightly tired smile before gesturing for him to spin around, making sure she didn't miss a spot, before nodding her approval and hurrying him along.

He smiled his thanks and pulled his robe back on before exiting his bedchamber, striding across his main room and opening the door. On the other side was a rather bedraggled Yaelle, regarding him with both relief and consternation.

"Milord," she greeted him with a proper salute, standing at attention. "The storm died down hours ago, and there is much to be done. We are in dire need of your supervision — were you still asleep?" she asked with a gasp, apparently suddenly taking in his state of undress.

The abrupt break in formality from his third-in-command was not out of character for her, yet he still felt himself flush somewhat — the storm had ended, and he'd left his men without a commander for hours? He suddenly felt rather foolish, although he was but only a man and did not exactly regret last night's choices in the least. Still, guilt tinged his cheeks regardless.

"...I seem to have been, yes," he sighed, bringing a hand to cover a side of his face, his fingertips touching his forehead, his expression revealing he was plainly rather frustrated at himself. "My deepest apologies for this unexpected dereliction of duties. I shall prepare myself and report to headquarters at once." He paused. "I have not yet eaten, though — can you endure twenty or thirty minutes more?"

Yaelle met him with a complicated expression. She appeared somewhat mollified by his earnest apology, but had also clearly been expecting to bring him with her on her return. Unfortunately he seemed to have no choice but to disappoint her in this.

"...Very well, my lord," she replied finally, bowing rather stiffly. "We await your timely arrival. By your leave."

He nodded, making to close the door — but Ser Yaelle suddenly made an expression as if she'd forgotten something, raising her hand into the air.

"Oh, and if by chance you encounter the Warrior of Light on your way... please do inform her that we could very much make use of her support. Her allies are already assisting us."

Haurchefant met the Elezen woman's eyes with surprise and saw nothing but carefully placed neutrality in them, yet he held his breath regardless. "...Very well," he nodded, and she gave him a quick bow before turning and departing.

He closed the door behind him, sliding the lock into place out of reflex, his heart beating rather quickly.

Did... did Ser Yaelle suspect he was harboring the Warrior within his own private chambers? No, no... there was no reason for that, surely? ...Yet it was late, probably around the ninth or tenth bell if he had to guess, and if he and the Warrior were the only two persons of note currently unaccounted for...

Well. Even if she had suspected, she had no hard evidence — and was incredibly loyal, besides. He could say the same for nearly everyone stationed at Camp Dragonhead in the long term, but Yaelle and Corentiaux were especially dedicated, feeling indebted to him and his house for very personal reasons. He sincerely doubted that even if they did suspect or even know about his involvement with the Warrior, that they would do anything with this knowledge to his detriment.

Still. He brought a hand to his face again, smiling nervously, his pulse still racing. What a fool he'd made of himself... A fool in love, he thought, sighing wistfully despite himself.

The quiet creak of a door slowly opening sounded across the room, and he looked to see the Warrior peeking her mussed head out of his bedroom door, followed by a tentative step into the room upon seeing him standing there alone. She had a throw blanket wrapped around her like a robe. Is she gone? she mouthed, eyes gesturing to the bolted front door behind him.

He nodded, and, straining his sensitive Elezen ears, found that he could no longer hear Ser Yaelle's armored footfalls echoing down the long hallway.

"Yes, but I fear I don't have long. The storm has passed, and my knights rather urgently require my assistance," he said with a placating grimace.

The Warrior shrugged, nodding. "So I've noticed," she said with a slight laugh, the blanket falling slightly and revealing a bare shoulder. "Did—did she mention me? I thought I heard..."

Haurchefant nodded, letting out a sigh. "Yes; she said that if I were to chance upon you, that your assistance would be appreciated as well."

"I see," she replied, looking thoughtful, then concerned. "Do... do you think she knows?"

"Mayhap," he laughed, scratching at his jaw self-consciously. The Warrior met him with wide eyes and he continued quickly, "But she is rather loyal and would not put our relationship in jeopardy, I am certain. Plus I am quite aware of her penchant for reading rather frivolous romance novels in her spare time," he added conspiratorially. "Chances are she'd be happier about us than not."

The Warrior smiled, seeming relieved. "Well, in that case I'll try not to worry overmuch," she said with a laugh, "though I do feel awfully bad for inconveniencing her and the rest of your men."

He stepped closer to her, laying a hand on her bare shoulder. "Pray banish the thought," he said, gazing down at her with affection. "'Twas inevitable, and the responsibility lies with me. Your presence will never be an inconvenience," he swore, bending down towards her slightly — she smiled, somewhat flushed, looking up at him with love clear upon her features, and reached up on her toes to meet him with a soft kiss.

"Then I will endeavor to make up for it by getting ready and reporting to assist you in whatever capacity is needed," she said with a smile, brushing his bangs from his eyes and then dropping back down to her feet. "Do you have time to eat?"

"To eat, yes; to cook, no," he answered with a shrug. "I'm out of fresh ingredients besides, but I have preserved foods in my stores for a quick meal—"

"Then go freshen up and I'll put a pot of tea on and get some plates ready for us," she replied, slipping the blanket down and tucking it under her arm like a towel — it now dragged on the floor like a long gown.

Haurchefant frowned. "Do you not need to do so more than I?" he asked delicately, and she shook her head.

"You're the one who needs to report in as soon as possible; I'll shower off after you've left," she assured him, waving him off. "Now hurry, I'd feel terrible if we let them wait much longer," she added with a sympathetic smile, stretching up once more to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

He smiled, his heart fluttering in his chest. "I shall do so, then," he said, pressing a kiss down to her cheek in turn. "Ah, but first, take this — I daresay you do need this more than I," he added sheepishly, slipping his robe off and handing it to her. She took it, passing her his blanket in exchange and revealing her nearly nude, kiss-marked body, merely standing in his entertaining room as if she belonged there in such a state of rather disheveled undress. Which she did now, he thought with great pleasure, unable to help his gaze from lingering upon her soft yet battle-hardened figure with appreciation.

She gave him her thanks and slipped his robe on — it was more of a dress on her slighter stature, he thought — and he turned and left to go take a quick shower, feeling utterly content despite the rush he was suddenly in, and the veritable avalanche of work which surely awaited him.

The Warrior of Light was a mess, she knew it; even after quickly fixing her hair in the mirror she felt sticky and sore in all sorts of places, not to mention a bit fatigued thanks to unexpectedly needing to heal without a focus again. Yet her heart beat strong and true, and her mind felt refreshed, buzzing with energy.

Gods be good, what a night, she thought, feeling giddy as she put the kettle on and began to rummage through Haurchefant's cupboards in search of something filling and quick to make. She was no culinarian, but she knew how to feed herself; finding some promising dry ingredients, she put a pot on the stovetop and set to work.

The storm had cleared, light streaming bright through a nearby window, the figures of people rushing about far below — this meant a chance to help out around camp in the ways she best could, through the fulfilling work of an adventurer. Lightening Haurchefant's workload also meant more time to be spent with him, didn't it? She sighed, stirring the pot with a wooden spoon, waiting for it to boil. By the Twelve, she was in love, the mere thought of him making her mind turn all soft and smitten and yearning. Perhaps she might be able to work alongside him for part of it?

The storm clearing also meant the possibility of further word from the outside world — perhaps circumstances had changed in Ishgard or with Urianger at the Waking Sands? The storm had been harsh enough to disrupt their linkpearls, and it occurred to her that the yet-grieving Archon might have been rather worried about them, though she was certain the others must have contacted him by now.

And if things had changed in Ishgard... perhaps she and the Scions would soon have a new home, and a whole new nation and culture to explore. And maybe, just maybe, the man she loved would join her in some of her adventures.

Well, it was certainly all yet quite unknown — but she found that all the possibilities excited her this morning, her heart greeting the future with pure unbridled hope instead of the uneasy trepidation she'd felt towards the start of her time here at Camp Dragonhead.

As she added the final touches to their breakfast and began to ladle it into two bowls, a lovely sweet scent hanging in the air; she heard quick footfalls sounding from the other room, and the man responsible for her incredibly good mood came through the door.

Haurchefant was fully dressed minus his armor, but a towel still draped across his shoulder, his messy hair yet somewhat damp. He greeted her with a crooked grin, before noticing the meal she'd prepared. His mouth fell open in surprise, before he rushed over to her, peering into the bowls she'd just finished doling out, still sitting on the counter.

"I—I imagined you might plate us some bread, dried meats and fruits, not prepare a whole meal," he said, eyes flicking back up to her. "This looks delicious, my heart. I thought you said you weren't much of a cook?"

"Not nearly as much as you, no," she answered, handing him a bowl and spoon, before taking her own and making for his cozy little dining table, where she'd already prepared their tea. "But I do know the basics. And, really, it's just a quick porridge."

"Yes, but made with... some of my dried fruits and nuts? And that heavenly scent... spices and maple syrup, yes?" She nodded, her cheeks tinging a little bit pink. "Thank you, my heart," he said rather sincerely as she settled down in her seat across from him.

"'Tis nothing, really," she replied bashfully, putting a spoonful in her mouth. Oh, it had turned out rather well, actually. Mostly owing to Haurchefant's rather well-stocked pantry — she certainly didn't often carry dried peaches and rolanberries in her traveling pack, nor have access to so many delicious spices — but, well. One of the perks of taking an Ishgardian lord as her lover, she supposed.

Haurchefant's eyes lit up as he took the first bite, and he seemed to truly savor it — she began to feel rather warm inside, and not simply from the hot porridge filling her stomach.

"I had... not considered fortifying oats in this way," he said between bites. "Ishgardian porridge is usually rather simply served with raisins and a bit of milk and sugar, as you've undoubtedly seen in our mess hall." She nodded, continuing to eat; it was a meal she'd had many times by now. "This is delicious, and quite more filling and hearty."

"This is more or less an attempt at Gridanian style porridge," she explained, recalling her many days spent in the Shroud, "though the inns I stayed in served it with fresh fruit, and the flavor was a bit different. It seemed the quickest thing I knew how to make that you had on hand, so..."

"Fascinating," he answered, fully sincere. "To think I have lived mere bells from their borders for years and never tried this." He took a long sip of his tea and sighed with satisfaction. "'Tis a shame to have to eat it all so quickly."

She met his grateful smile with one of her own, their mouths now both full. There truly was no time to linger and enjoy themselves — in her estimation, Haurchefant had merely a handful of minutes before he needed to be out the door and going to strap in to his armor before reporting for duty.

Surely they had lingered and enjoyed themselves rather thoroughly last night... a debt incurred they seemed to now be about to pay back. Yet, she thought, feeling a sweet, enthusiastic contentment sweep through her each time their eyes met, it had certainly been worth it.

Moments later they'd emptied their dishes and filled their bellies, and as Haurchefant rose from his seat she did too, eager to be near him for another instant, if only to say goodbye. He toweled his damp hair off again as she approached, looking rather charmingly disheveled afterwards.

"I fear I must depart nearly immediately," he said with apologetic reluctance, before reaching out the warm back of his hand to stroke down the side of her cheek. She grabbed his hand in hers, bringing it to her lips for a kiss — his lips parted softly in surprise before meeting her with a smile, his affection clear in his eyes. "My love," he breathed, bringing her hand to his neck as he bent in close, his other hand circling around the small of her back. "You are... quite well I take it? No aches or pains?"

Her whole body felt rather wonderful, actually — the soft ache between her legs simply a pleasant reminder and not true discomfort. She shook her head, stepping closer, feeling his handsome nose brush against hers. "I have truly never felt better," she sighed happily, gazing into his warm azure eyes, her hand running up his broad back.

It was unclear who crossed the remaining distance, but his lips were soon on hers, a gentle hand at her neck conveying tender emotion. An awakening heat blossomed through her at his kiss, her lips parting. He met her with soft, shallow flicks of tongue, which she returned gladly, a shiver of welcome intimacy running through her before they parted.

"Neither have I," he answered with an aching smile, "how truly splendid."

He pressed his lips to hers again for a brief moment before tearing himself away with clear effort.

"You should go," the Warrior said, running a hand through her hair and looking at him rather longingly. "I'll be along to help soon, once I'm clean and properly equipped."

Haurchefant nodded, standing up straight. "Right, yes. I mustn't keep poor sers Yaelle and Corentiaux waiting," he chuckled, feeling a bit guilty. "I look forward to your aid, then. Mayhap I will have more of your deeds to convince the Count with ere long," he added with a familiar excited twinkle in his eye.

She laughed. "I do hope that the challenges your men face are not that great... but if they are I will be ready," she concluded with a grin, which Haurchefant returned with enthusiasm.

"I, as ever, have nothing but faith that you will," he replied, then took in a breath. "Very well... I shall be off, then. See you soon, my love."

The Warrior nodded and returned Haurchefant's handsome smile, before watching him turn and leave the kitchen, the exit to his chambers sounding open and shut moments later. She sighed longingly, leaning back against the edge of his table.

...Right, she should surely be making haste as well. Yet as she rose, setting the dirty dishes to soak, then departing to cleanse herself and get dressed, all within the environs of Haurchefant's own private chambers, she could not help but be a bit preoccupied by just how much in love she felt, for the very first time.

As Haurchefant Greystone made his way across camp to his office, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the bright morning sun, he could not but marvel at how uncommonly heavy the storm had been, and how quickly his knights had begun to clear up its effects around camp, even without his command.

When he'd returned to the barracks last night, he'd been forced to trudge rather painfully through thigh-deep snow part of the way, the attempts his men had made at clearing paths proving to have ephemeral results at best. Yet now his footfalls landed easily on shallow, packed ground, though towering snowpiles still loomed in the distance.

His men dashed to and fro on the bright grounds; only a few stopping for a brief moment to offer him a hurried salute before going back to their pressing tasks. He could not but feel equal parts eager to help out himself, and guilty that he had not been doing so already.

Upon arriving in his command offices, he was immediately rushed by Ser Corentiaux, Ser Yaelle looking up from a stack of reports and meeting him with a look of tired relief from afar.

"Milord, we have much to discuss and to brief you on," Corentiaux began, following Haurchefant as he crossed the room to sit at his desk. "Cleanup of camp proceeds apace, yet we have already received numerous reports that surrounding settlements are fully snowed in, their residents trapped inside. Further, some of our men were assaulted by a band of yetis, apparently emboldened to expand their territory during the storm. This is not to mention the countless reports and clerical tasks that keep pouring in as nearby forts report their status and send us requests for aid..."

The young man looked rather worn, and met him with a stern, nearly desperate expression, uncommon for one as competent and capable as he.

"...Pray take a brief moment to breathe, Ser Corentiaux," Haurchefant said gently, his expression apologetic. "I am here now, and we shall tackle these issues together. My sincerest gratitude for handling it all so well in my absence."

The younger Elezen man let his eyes fall shut for a brief instant, letting out a short sigh of relief and letting his breathing calm before meeting his commander with a nod. "...Much appreciated, my lord," he said with a further incline of his head, reaching for a stack of papers laid on a corner of his desk — the large surface was, in fact, rather strewn with documents at the moment — and rotating it in his hands before placing it in front of Haurchefant where he now sat. "This is a summary of our ongoing issues and challenges. Pray read it over and offer your input on how we can best address them."

Back to work in earnest it was then. As Haurchefant read through a list of much of what faced him this day, he found that rather than being terribly distracted as he was yesterday, he felt... focused, sharp, capable. Perhaps part of it was that he'd simply had his libido sated to the point of silence, but... playing his familiar role as garrison commander, knowing that the Warrior of Light, who loved him, would be his ally in the challenges ahead, and perhaps take her hard-earned rest by his side in the coming nights... Well, he found his work felt nearly as effortless as breathing.

By the time the next bell had rung, Haurchefant had taken control of the situation and sent a squadron of his most diligent men and hired adventurers to assist those trapped in their homes first and foremost, clearing out the band of yetis on their way. A rather insistent Master Alphinaud had arrived almost immediately after he'd finished reading the report, and Haurchefant had supplied him with a store of mana restoratives and sent him to tend to the wounded. Deprived of his morning workout for the second day in a row, Haurchefant ached to get out there and take matters into his own hands, but despite his restlessness he knew it was surely for the best that the situation was not dire enough for him to be immediately needed in the field. As for the aid to his allies in Skyfire Locks which appeared to be under some manner of sustained siege... he had sent some of his finest posthaste, though he thought it might be best to also send someone who already had a working relationship with them, whose mere presence perhaps would even bolster morale.

The door to his office creaked open for perhaps the hundredth time since his arrival, he felt like; followed by the heavy, armored footfalls of one of his knights.

Or so he thought for a mere moment, before Ser Yaelle, who was currently leaning over his desk and explaining something to him via diagram, glanced that way and suddenly stood, her expression one of stunned surprise.

Haurchefant followed her gaze immediately, only to be greeted with a sight that immediately put a delighted grin on his face. The Warrior of Light stood before his desk in the full suit of armor he'd given her, looking very much identical to any one of his knights.

So she'd decided it was time to test her skills in the field...! Truthfully, she had been skilled enough to do so long ago, but their fixation on their personal competition had altered the direction of their training. And besides, as the Warrior of Light, she would be expected to be a master of single combat above all else, regardless of the martial discipline she employed. So it now made perfect sense to see her here, fully equipped with her sword and shield, ready to face real battle.

Yet there was something additionally symbolic about her public appearance in the undifferentiated garb of a House Fortemps knight. It was obviously arresting enough that near everyone in the room had now stopped to look at her as she approached him. She had not altered any bit of her gear, nor had his house's heraldry painted over. The foreign hero who'd driven the Garleans from Eorzea... who'd faced Iceheart alone and won... who'd been instrumental in protecting Ishgard from falling on the Steps of Faith... now proudly bearing arms in his house's name. It was enough to send a shiver of awe down Haurchefant's spine, and to make every eye in the room look from her to him as he rose to greet her, taking in a deep breath.

"Lord Haurchefant," the Warrior of Light said with a light, deferent bow, "I see the storm has left a measure of chaos in its wake. How may I best assist your efforts?"

His eyes lighting up, Haurchefant greeted her by name before realizing he should address the many questioning eyes suddenly upon them. "My friend, I am full glad to have your assistance this day. Yet... I believe your appearance may have caused a bit of a stir," he said with a light laugh, glancing around at his men. The Warrior looked around too, meeting their gazes with a hopeful smile.

"My comrades, I have been personally training the Warrior of Light to fight with sword and shield," he explained to the room at large, though some of his top command were already aware. "She came to me with interest in learning our defensive combat arts and I could not well deny her thirst for knowledge. I am pleased to say she took to our discipline faster and with even more uncommon skill than I had imagined she would."

The Warrior nodded humbly in confirmation of all he'd said, then spoke up herself. "Lord Haurchefant was kind enough to take the Scions and myself in when we had nowhere else to go. As long as I am here, I would be much obliged to work alongside you in service of House Fortemps. I know I am no true knight of your house, and my current circumstances restrain me, but if there is aught I can do..."

The knights in the room began to murmur excitedly amongst themselves at this. Haurchefant made to speak further, yet Yaelle's clear voice beside him rang out first.

"Warrior of Light, you have ever worked countless deeds in service of House Fortemps since your first arrival here in central Coerthas. I believe I speak on behalf of all of us at Camp Dragonhead when I say that you are an honored guest and owe us naught. Yet... if you would serve amongst us, wearing our heraldry and colors... if our commander approves it, then we cannot rightly refuse you," she said, looking upon the Warrior with a smile, before glancing at her commander, and Ser Corentiaux on the other side of him.

Corentiaux nodded seriously, placing a fist to his lips. "It is highly irregular to place a foreign adventurer in the garb of a sworn knight, but if I may be so bold, it is often the way of our house to tread off the beaten path for the greater good," he said, glancing at his commander. Haurchefant nodded, very pleased at his young second's show of wisdom. "I have heard very promising things about your newfound skills with a blade, Warrior of Light. I believe the presence of a storied hero among us will only serve to bolster morale. Yet please do endeavor to always act in the best interests of House Fortemps for as long as you wear our colors," he warned, though his face showed little concern.

The Warrior of Light nodded deeply in gratitude. "I cannot imagine doing otherwise," she said with a smile, then turned to Haurchefant. "Lord Haurchefant?"

He would be lying if he claimed that being addressed as such by the Warrior while she was attired in this manner did not thrill him a bit, but the feeling that overwhelmed Haurchefant in this moment was one of deep pride. "My lieutenants most certainly have the right of it. You are not obligated to do anything for us, my dear friend. And yet, I know full well it is not in your nature to sit idly by. If you would serve alongside us in the name of House Fortemps, I can think of nothing that would bolster my spirits more — nor that of the men and women in my service."

She met his eyes with bright pride and affection, plainly reflecting his own — he glanced around at his men to avoid making a face that would reveal how much of a lovestruck fool he felt all of a sudden. Was this devotion she displayed truly to his house, or was it to him? He supposed that, to her, they were largely one and the same. He took a slow, unobtrusive breath in to calm himself before returning to meet her gaze once more.

"...As it happens, I have a mission that I believe suits your capabilities quite well," he continued, "Our allies in Skyfire Locks have sent us a missive reporting that they are currently under siege from a band of stranded Dravanian outflyers. The knights there are holding them at bay for now, but have requested our support in eradicating the threat. As I have sent some of my finest to bolster their ranks already, I would have you join with them and offer your aid..."

As Haurchefant continued to explain the details of the mission to the Warrior, who nodded seriously, taking each word in — he could not help but feel filled with bright, hopeful purpose.

Ah, if only he could work alongside her like this every day... whether in his current capacity as commander, as a new adventurer eager to learn from her himself, or simply as her friend and lover, he cared not. But as he briefed her on the rest of the details and sent her on her way, he could not help but treasure every moment of it.

Yes... she would make his house proud, and his father would have no choice but to accept her with open arms, he would make sure of it. But until such a day arrived, he would continue to live every day that she stayed in Camp Dragonhead to the fullest, thanking Halone for guiding her to him, and for allowing him to be ever by her side.

Chapter Text

The Warrior of Light raced over the snow-buried roads on chocobo back, clinging tightly to the energetic mount Haurchefant had lent to her. She was surprised at how little the large bird's taloned feet sunk into the snow, even carrying her heavily armored weight.

There were few mounts that could be spared at the moment — certainly even their well-appointed stables did not keep enough for each and every knight — but with the roads now lost under fulms of towering, uneven snowbanks, even such a short journey as hers required that she take one.

"My men also took such mounts," he had explained. "If the way seems unfamiliar, simply follow their tracks."

His men's chocobos had indeed left fresh tracks in the snow for her to find her way by. As she followed their footprints through a winding path up a hill, after which she expected to descend on Skyfire Locks, an area which was very familiar to her by now — she saw a trail of smoke winding up through the sky, and heard the distant sound of clashing steel, and all of her battle instincts set a jolt of alertness running through her body.

Reaching the top of the hill, she saw the source of the smoke and noises — a rather large group of Dravanian outfliers, a type of winged dragon akin to a small wyvern, was currently engaged in battle with a cluster of Haillenarte and Fortemps knights. The Locks themselves, small defensive forts hunkering low to the ground to protect those within, seemed unharmed if mostly buried in snowfall, but large streaks of snow seemed as though they had been forcibly melted off the ground — and as she saw a woman in Haillenarte colors brandish her shield, deflecting a jet of flame spewing from one of the wyverns' mouths, she understood how.

She tightened her grip on the reins and had her chocobo speed down the hill towards them. They were defending the path to the house upon the nearby hill where the young Lord Francel de Haillenarte and his knights kept watch over the Locks — he was Haurchefant's dear friend, and he had done her a kindness as well. She would not allow them to reach him with their destructive flames.

With a comforting pat to her mount's shoulder she dismounted and sent the bird up the hill to join the other chocobos gathered there, brandishing her sword and shield and rushing into the thick of the action. One of Haurchefant's men at the back of the defensive line recognized her and called to her by name, looking both rather shocked and relieved.

"I'm here to help!" she called back, and as another fatigued-looking knight fell back from the front line they let her step forward to take their place.

She'd faced down wyverns several times before — but most often with magic, and the urge to reach for her grimoire and flip to a favored arcane geometry yet tugged at the back of her mind. She quickly pushed it aside and instead drew her sword and brandished her shield, sizing up her enemy as she did.

The wyvern she faced winged towards her, striking at her with wicked claws, and she brought up her shield to deflect them near-effortlessly, Haurchefant's training apparently rather drilled into her muscle memory. She grinned in satisfaction before dropping into a practiced stance and winding up a strike — the wyvern seemed to sense what she was about to do and began charging up a flame in its throat, an orange glow creeping up its neck.

Though uncontrolled fire had once made her panic after the flames of the Calamity took her home, after years of hard work she found its presence now sharpened her senses; and she channeled the way it put all her nerve endings on edge into calculating the trajectory of her blow, tensing all the right muscles in service of ending this threat in one powerful strike.

One of the knights near her called out a warning but she simply nodded her acknowledgement and did not heed it, seeing the exact moment the wyvern went to loose its flames and thrusting her shield forward as she leapt into the air, deflecting the fire in a burst of brilliant heat and bearing the weight of her blade and armor down to sever the beast's neck cleanly in two. She landed heavily on the ground and breathed hard as she pushed herself up to standing, her heart pumping with the familiar adrenaline of battle. She flicked the excess blood off her blade with a quick, forceful swipe to the empty air at her side.

The knights nearest to her witnessed this and let out a rallying cry, bolstering their offenses — she grinned and joined in their attack.

It was hard work, slaying this many wyverns, even in a group; the dragons' tough scales and hide meant that each strike needed a tremendous amount of force behind it to deal a fatal wound or to sever a limb. It rapidly became quite obvious why an art as quick and piercing as that of the Knights Dragoon was considered the discipline of choice for facing such opponents. Yet the Warrior, with her slight frame, light weight and powerful legs, found her newfound skills served her very well — her shield and armor allowed her to deflect fang, claw and even flame, owing to the special Ishgardian alloys used in her shield's construction; and thanks to the past weeks of training she now felt nearly as unencumbered in mail as she had in light leather armor.

Sparring with Haurchefant daily, unleashing her full force against his relentless defenses, had spurred her to build and use incredible amounts of upper body strength, which she found now served to let her sever the limbs and necks of her draconic opponents. Before long, she and the Ishgardian knights had whittled the wyverns' numbers down from more than a dozen to a mere three, which clustered together defensively as if in fear.

"Do not let them escape! For Lord Francel! For Ishgard!" a Haillenarte knight called out, leading a charge on the group. The Warrior made to join the assault, but her eyes caught a flash of something somehow intense in the eyes of one of the wyvern, and hesitated for the briefest of moments.

As the knight bore his blade down against the wyvern's claws, it let out an unearthly shriek, almost akin to the wail of a siren in how it echoed through the Warrior's skin, radiating powerfully as if containing waves of aether. Her hair stood on end, every bit of her anticipating something dreadful — the awful noise fell suddenly silent as the knight stabbed his blade upwards through the bottom of the beast's skull, and yet the feeling did not fade.

"Dragonsong," a Fortemps knight beside her hissed with near-fearful vitriol, and she turned to her, her eyes questioning. The knight met the Warrior with stern eyes behind her helm and a terse nod of acknowledgement. "The creature calls to its allies," she explained, eyes scanning the horizon.

Feeling uneasy, the Warrior stepped forward and joined some other knights in making quick work of the remaining cornered wyverns. Yet after they were slain, none celebrated the victory. Instead, all of the knights seemed nervous, looking to the skies for signs of coming threat.

Minutes passed in tense near-silence, broken only by the occasional murmur from one knight to another — "Did we slay it in time?" "Are we safe?" — and for a few moments, the Warrior thought the threat passed as she heard the knights around her begin to breathe collective sighs of relief.

But then she saw it, just as a young spearman called out in alarm — a broad, dark shadow in the distant skies, quickly growing yet larger as it approached.

A dragon. Not a wyvern, or a lesser dragon, but a true, full-grown dragon, with a thick, sturdy body and powerful wings and limbs well-suited for combat. And, she realized in horror, it was not alone — tiny specks flanking it quickly grew into the shapes of several more wyverns, all flying right towards them.

"Fury preserve us," the lady knight at her side swore in an earnest prayer, drawing her blade up in preparatory defense.

The Warrior braced herself as well, squaring her shoulders and standing to her full height as she held her blade and shield before her — this was going to be a challenge, she knew it.

One of the more senior knights called out a command to get in a specific formation which the Warrior did not know. Puzzled, she shouted out, questioning what she should do.

"Adventurer, we have heard tell of some of your great deeds in battle — is slaying a dragon amongst them?" the knight replied from where he headed up a tight phalanx of shields, curved in a circle as if anticipating where the quickly looming shadow would touch down.

She nodded decisively, though her brow furrowed. She had slain dragons on occasion, but none quite this size, she was certain. Yet, she was the Warrior of Light. She knew that even among these seasoned knights, she likely possessed the most raw power, and she understood what this knight captain wished to ask of her. "Aye— I will take the van if you wish, simply keep the wyverns at bay," she answered with stern determination, rushing into position a couple yalms ahead of them.

"We won't let you take all the glory!" one of the knights called out to her, and she flashed them a grin before fixing her eyes back on her target as it came crashing down from the heavens.

The dragon was a towering beast — not a gargantuan wyrm like the skeletal Midgardsormr had been, but still multiple stories high, its body stocky and replete with sinewy muscle, wicked fangs and horns curving from its maw and the crown of its head. Thick, plated scales the color of burnished copper covered its entire body. The immense weight of its landing created a shockwave which they all bolstered themselves against behind their shields, a feeling like rippling thunder pulsing through the air as it let out a furious roar, its eyes fixed directly upon her.

Saying a silent prayer to both Hydaelyn and the Fury to guide her blade — it only felt fitting — the Warrior rose, dropping into stance before charging the dragon.

The beast, she quickly found, was uncommonly clever — dodging her opening blows as if it had somehow read them, and countering with stiff wingbeats and a swipe of a powerful arm, timed as if purposefully aiming to knock her off balance. She found herself locked in a battle of attrition with the beast, only able to land a few glancing blows, barely dodging her way out of some sent her way — her heart pumping adrenaline, her mind unable to focus on anything but her and her opponent.

The din of chaotic battle erupted around her. Haillenarte and Fortemps knights both worked in tandem to hold the wyverns at bay, some slaying them — but there were perhaps a dozen weary knights still on their feet and more fresh wyverns, and it was slow, grueling work.

"Call for backup!" the Warrior vaguely heard a man shout, as she rolled out of the way of the slam of a spiked tail, finding her footing and charging at the dragon's flank, cutting a long, red slice into its hide that made it howl in pain but seemed to serve only to enrage the beast. She saw the air ripple with heat around the dragon's maw, all her hairs standing on end as she readied her shield to weather the dragonfire once more.

The heat roiled around her, this dragon's flames burning so hot that even her gloved hand began to sweat, the heat resistant alloys used in her shield only doing so much to protect her.

This was... not ideal. Without close allies she fought well with, or even the direct assistance of any of these knights, who all had their hands well full with keeping the wyverns from making a break for Lord Francel's keep or making the odds even worse for the Warrior... how was she to slay such a fearsome foe? The Blessing of Light had been stripped from her, and now what remained were her own tightly honed skills, and...

The Echo. It did not speak to her on command, at least not in any way she'd tried. Still, she'd realized many moons ago that when she dropped any outside concerns and simply focused on the battle at hand, living in the moment, she was more likely to notice its whispers.

As the dragonfire ceased, her enemy apparently catching its breath, she did the same; assuming a watchful, defensive position, staring into its piercing, golden eyes as she steadied her breathing.

This dragon wants revenge for us slaying its brethren, she thought, seeing hatred somehow plain in its inhuman eyes. It is angry. It is afraid — afraid we may continue to end the lives of its kin. Yet... how else are Ishgardians to live, but by slaying the Dravanians who continue to lay waste to their lands?

Feeling at once both heavier and refreshed after considering what she saw in the dragon's eyes, she dove back into the fray, pressing the assault while at the same time careful to budget her movement as not to wear herself out too quickly. It was her and this dragon, alone in a clearing; the men and wyverns around them faded into the background. Her blade struck claw, wing, limb, neck — littering her enemy with injuries, beginning to slow it down. Her shield repelled talon and flame, her heavy greaves digging long streaks in the snow and patches of packed soil.

Despite her best efforts she could feel herself beginning to wear, her reactions slowing; but the Echo, blessedly, showed her visions of incoming strikes right at the last moment, keeping her mostly unharmed and still on her feet.

If... if only the knights could come to her aid, perhaps distract the beast for a split second so she could get in a decisive strike—

The sound of many men suddenly shouting excitedly behind her almost made her turn her head, her eyes flicking intensely towards her opponent's own to keep her from losing focus. What... what was it? Had the called-for reinforcements finally arrived? She dodged out of the way of another strike, boots skidding backwards against the bare dirt, and heard the cry of a chocobo behind her — it was the reinforcements, wasn't it? The Warrior drew in a breath, standing taller, feeling more confident; then a flash of icy blue hair caught the corner of her eye and she turned her head to see Haurchefant himself joining her at her side, weapons drawn.

Her companion called her by name and met her eyes with a fearless grin, which she returned, her heart pounding with renewed excitement. She had not envisioned that Haurchefant himself would be part of the reinforcements; she could not imagine anything more heartening than this.

"It seems you have had to contend with far more than either of us bargained for, my friend," he called to her, shoulder-to-shoulder with her now, sizing up their enemy. "Excellent work. Shall we finish it together?"

"We shall," she readily agreed, dropping down into a more maneuverable stance, feeling eager. "Can you guard my left flank?"

"Gladly, if you take my right," he answered, as they both watched the dragon's movements carefully. She had littered it with wounds, tears in its hide, wings and limbs, yet the beast still reared back undeterred, coiling up a powerful blow.

"I'm on it," she shouted back. The dragon struck with a powerful limb, the impact enough to shake the earth below them, and they both jumped out of the way, regrouping quickly.

Fighting alongside Haurchefant like this proved... invigorating, bolstering, natural. The past weeks locked in combat and daily training with him had them reading each other's movements automatically, and though they had only fought alongside one another like this once before and with different weapons entirely — she felt as though she'd faced a hundred battles by this man's side, what with how deftly they complemented one another in combat.

Haurchefant was freshly rested and moved with a free agility the Warrior lacked after being locked in this battle for who knows how long now; he picked up on this immediately and began distracting the dragon with swift, dancing footwork, creating openings for the already-warmed-up Warrior to move in and strike.

Adrenaline surged through the Warrior as she picked up on Haurchefant's physical cues; strike there! his posture seemed to say, and she landed a piercing blow right in the dragon's leg joint, sending it howling in pain and that leg going limp, apparently having severed a tendon. Dodge now! she could see flashing in his wide eyes, and she leapt out of the way in time to avoid the thrashing slam of the dragon's sharp, jagged tail.

The dragon roared in fury, seeming to sense that it was nearly beaten and rallying all of its remaining strength. It looked between the two of them for a brief moment before coiling its long neck back, heat glowing bright underneath its armored skin. Haurchefant and the Warrior shared a glance and quick nods before bracing themselves for a deluge of fire, shields at the ready. The dragon lowered its head near to the ground and loosed its flames in a savage burst; arcing its neck back and forth in an attempt to get around their shields. They were forced to huddle together, drenched in sweat from the boiling heat of the air around them, hardly able to breathe, the Warrior praying the fire would end soon —

"I'll make an opening; end this, my friend!" Haurchefant shouted to her over the din of the flames. For an instant she furrowed her brow, confused as to how he could possibly make an opening from here; but then she watched, eyes wide, as the knight commander leapt forward, jamming his shield between the dragon's open jaws.

Of all the reckless, heroic things— The Warrior's heart lurched, but she immediately jumped into action, strafing to the side and circling towards the dragon's neck. Haurchefant let out a yelp of alarm against the heat of the flames and she felt speed and urgency overtake her in the face of danger — she drew back her blade and leapt into the air, using all her armored weight as leverage, seeing a spot of soft connective tissue between the dragon's scales and aiming for it —

With a sickening crunch, her blade struck true, slicing down the side of the dragon's neck, severing flesh from bone. The flames sputtered to a stop, the dragon's head moving wildly in one last dying struggle — Haurchefant made to jump back but was flung instead, tumbling backwards through the air. The Warrior's eyes blew wide and she called to the well of aether within her, channeling it towards him in a protective magical shield — his armor thumped loudly against the ground, and she ran over to him, leaving their enemy, yet writhing in its death throes, to the watch of waiting knights who had made short work of some of the wyverns and had been watching their battle intently.

"Haurchefant!" she yelled out as she ran to him, forgetting his title in the heat of the moment. "Of all the— are you—" she panted, concern running over her like a furious wave.

"Am I alright?" he breathed, winded, peeking his eyes open at her with a hazy grin. "I—I do, in fact, seem to be rather intact," he answered, taking her proffered hand and letting her pull him up to his feet, only seeming slightly dazed. She sighed deeply in relief, and he offered her an apologetic smile before his gaze landed upon the dragon, which had finally gone limp, slain at their hands.

"Ha!" he laughed, grinning wildly, clapping a hand to her shoulder. "Halone be praised; we slayed the godsdamned thing! Just the two of us! Well... 'twas mostly you, in truth, but—"

The Warrior followed his gaze to the slain dragon, yet another wave of relief rushing over her, a tingling high of emotion that pounded through her entire body. They'd done it; they'd won. Together! She met his beaming face, dirtied in places with soot and blood spatter, and by the Twelve; were she not possessed of a modicum of self-restraint she could kiss him, right here in front of his men, with mess still on their armor and the wreckage of the Dravanian horde all around them —

Cheers erupted around them, some weary knights forgetting their fatigue and coming to congratulate them on their victory, to thank Lord Haurchefant for gracing them in battle personally to defend House Haillenarte's holdings, to tell the Warrior of Light how she'd fought like the Fury herself — and she fell into the din, answering eager questions, recounting moments of battle alongside Haurchefant.

She was, truthfully, utterly exhausted by the time Lord Francel met them as they marched up the hill to retrieve their chocobos.

"Lord Haurchefant!" the young blonde Elezen called out as he jogged up to them, naming the Warrior as well. "I witnessed your battle from my vantage... I cannot thank you both enough," he said, looking apologetic. "House Haillenarte is in your debt once again, Lord Haurchefant, Warrior of Light," he added with a grateful smile.

"Nonsense," Haurchefant said quickly. "It is no burden to come to the aid of a friend. And besides — were the enemy to break your defenses, surely it would soon be on my own doorstep, no?"

"...You do speak true," Francel conceded. "Would that I did not require aid... but I am truly grateful all the same," he said, before turning to the Warrior. "I... understand from correspondence with Lord Haurchefant that you and yours are in quite the predicament? Yet you wear House Fortemps colors and fight like one of their finest knights, now?"

She nodded. "Yes... Lord Haurchefant has been kind enough to shelter me for the time being, and to train me in shieldwork," she explained. "To better defend my few allies that remain. I offered my services in battle while I am here, out of immense gratitude."

"I see," Francel offered with a look of understanding. She glanced at Haurchefant, who seemed to be slightly flushed — had she said something embarrassing? No, it must be the cold. "Well, I am glad to see you well. And thank you, yet again."

Haurchefant and Francel chatted amicably for a bit longer while the Warrior watched on, feeling heartened and fulfilled despite her body's fatigue. There was clearly some sort of deep bond of friendship between the two men, though Ishgardian formality, and, she supposed, their respective stations, kept them at a bit of a distance.

She found herself wondering, not for the first time, what Haurchefant's family in Ishgard was like, and how they got along with him. Did all Ishgardians keep up a wall of politeness and courtesy in public company, or was it just the nobility and those in their service? Would his family be the same? In private, of course, between her and Haurchefant, that wall had long since melted away. She supposed that if these two friends were alone for tea and not surrounded by their knights, they might be less guarded. Still, she hoped that there were others in Ishgard her lover felt he could open up to and speak plain with.

As they left Lord Francel, after Haurchefant had promised to send House Haillenarte some stocks of supplies to replace those damaged in the attack, the Warrior felt his eyes on her even before she turned to look. Haurchefant was beaming at her with a look of warm pride, like perhaps there was something he wanted to say but was working out how exactly to phrase in public.

"My friend, 'tis I who is most truly grateful," he said softly, quiet enough that she suspected the busy knights around them might not hear. "If you had not fought so valiantly on our behalf I know not how many lives such a beast would have claimed. And now my men ride home with naught but injuries."

Her eyes flitted away from his, her cheeks warm with fluster. "'Twas your training that allowed me to hold out so long, and your presence beside me in battle that allowed us to prevail."

Haurchefant hummed in consideration, then gasped a chuckle as his black chocobo chose that moment to wander over to him, nuzzling his shoulder with its beak. He gave its head an affectionate stroke, the bird happily closing its eyes at his gentle touch. "...We do make a rather excellent team, do we not?"

The Warrior smiled, her heart warm with affection. "We do," she agreed. "Your bird rather seems to like you," she giggled, watching it ruffle its dark feathers happily as he scratched its crest.

"Ah, yes, that's because I hand-raised her myself," he replied, smoothing her feathers back down. "Were you worried about me, Liberty?" The chocobo answered with a trilling chirp. "Or perhaps you are simply eager to get back to the stables and enjoy your interrupted lunch, hm?"

Lunch. How long had she been out here fighting? The sun was long in the sky, not yet evening but far past midday. Relaxing in Haurchefant's near presence, she felt her fatigue begin to catch up with her, returning to camp for a meal suddenly sounding a nearly pressing necessity.

The Elezen gave a comforting pat to Liberty's side, and the bird finally settled down, standing calmly nearby, leaving them to their conversation. It was... very endearing, she found, his rather doting treatment of his chocobo. She'd known House Fortemps to be famous for its steeds, but had not known that he'd had such a strong personal bond with them.

"You hand-raise chocobos?" she found herself asking, her voice coming out more tender and full of sweet admiration than she'd intended it to. Hopefully his men weren't particularly listening in.

"On occasion," he answered, meeting her eyes with a soft twinkle of warmth. "I've always been fond of the stables. But, never mind that," he said quickly, taking a half-step closer to her. "You must be exhausted after such a long battle. Are you certain you are unhurt?"

She shrugged, feeling achy and bruised, scuffed up in places but otherwise relatively unharmed. "For the most part, yes; certainly nothing a little healing from Alphinaud won't fix," she explained, rubbing her forearm through her mail, the skin there tender from where, at one point, she'd caught the dragon's whipping tail.

"Then we shall return to camp at once," Haurchefant concluded. He extended his hand just a tiny bit before withdrawing it to his side, as if resisting the urge to inspect her state more closely. "House Haillenarte should have cleanup well in hand here, and I shall leave a few men with linkpearls on watch in case of any stragglers. I myself could use the touch of a healer," he added, though he showed no outward sign of weakness.

The Warrior nodded in agreement, her heart feeling warm as their eyes met and quickly parted, not wanting to make a scene. The exhausted high from their victory still making her feel soft and pliable, yet triumphant and in a fantastic mood, the two of them accompanied most of House Fortemps' knights and began to ride back to Camp Dragonhead astride their chocobos.

Yes — she'd made the right choice, choosing to learn the sword and shield from Haurchefant. She'd never felt so resilient, so able to endure — and all without the Blessing of Light, no less. As she followed behind him at a reasonable distance, watching the wind whip through his icy hair, the clasps on his ears flashing bright in the sunlight, the Warrior of Light truly hoped that this was only the first of many battles fought side by side.

Chapter Text

Haurchefant Greystone felt positively aglow with enthusiasm as he returned to camp astride his chocobo, the Warrior following close behind. To have slain such a monstrous dragon, by her side! It was troubling, true, that such a beast had appeared here of all places; the highlands of central Coerthas were far from the front lines of the war, and rarely more than a few large wyverns appeared within the lands beneath his watch. Yet he assumed such must be due to the storm; such violent winds and snows tended to bring strange beasts out of hiding and make the enemy appear in unexpected places.

No, what preoccupied the knight commander more was how it had felt to fight by her side. The wordless communication between them, the shared grins and paired shields, his quick step to the side followed by her expert strike. The way she'd looked, weary and weathered from hours of combat yet utterly determined and heroic, her lithe, slight form leaping high — so high, he'd almost sworn she'd learned a trick or two from one of the knights dragoon, although she certainly hadn't — into the air, using the weight of her armor as leverage to strike the decisive blow.

His men murmuring around her in the wreckage of their battle were quite right; she fought like the Fury herself made flesh.

And this... this incredible woman loved him?

Oh, he was hopeless. He would be devoted to her for all his days, he knew it.

As they dismounted their birds in the courtyard, a stablehand appearing to guide all the chocobos back to their shelters, Haurchefant met the Warrior's eyes and saw her looking at him with a confident, bright satisfaction, her gaze unwavering, carrying herself exceptionally well despite the great fatigue he knew she must be experiencing.

His men began to gather around them, even some of the craftspeople and merchants nearby peering over them from across the courtyard, clearly curious about the source of the commotion. They made a conspicuous pair, to be sure; even dressed much like every other knight in camp as they were. And in the Warrior's case, it was certainly the fact that she was dressed like every other knight that made her all the more an object of interest. She made her best attempt to answer the men beginning to crowd them with questions, but he could read the weariness in her features.

"Now, now, please— the Warrior of Light has fought long and hard for Ishgard this day, and must be allowed some moments of respite," he explained to the men around them, before touching his hand to the Warrior's pauldron-clad shoulder and leading her out of the parting crowd and down towards the camp's infirmary.

She looked up at him with amusement as they walked, her shorter body working fast to keep up with his long stride. He slowed a bit to make her more comfortable. "I wasn't aware I'd hired you as a bodyguard," she teased.

"Ha! As if you would need such a thing," he laughed, feeling a bit sheepish. "But... you do have wounds to attend to, no?"

She nodded in thoughtful concession.

"Besides, I have a few of my own that require tending to," he added quickly. "'Twas not as if I simply wished for a few moments alone with the hero of the day," he said under his breath, eyes scanning the area to make sure no one was in earshot.

She laughed, her cheeks coloring just slightly. "Of course not," she agreed, smiling eyes lingering on his face a little bit more than may have been politely appropriate. "The infirmary, then?"

He nodded, forcing himself to look towards their destination — oh, he wanted to place his hand at her waist as they walked, or take her hand in his, or else abandon all propriety and pull her into an alcove and kiss her up against one of the stone walls of the keep — the thrill of their victory yet ran through him like rolling thunder, and he wanted to revel in it, to share with the Warrior his joy and pride.

"Indeed," he answered instead, observing the quickened beating of his heart, willing himself to be patient.

Soon they made it through the stone doors of the infirmary, which was, to his delight, in excellent order, no doubt thanks to the talented young healer temporarily granting him aid.

Young Master Alphinaud was placing the finishing touches on an injured woman's wound dressing, taking her thanks with a humble self-effacement. As the pair of them entered, he stood up straight and looked at them with a smile, clearly happy to see them both — before realizing why they were likely here.

The young Elezen called out to the Warrior by name. "And Lord Haurchefant! I—I have heard tell that a dragon was sighted near Skyfire Locks..." his eyes ran over them, taking in the splatters of dragon blood and streaks of soot across their armored bodies. "It is slain? By the looks of it, at both of your hands?"

Haurchefant found himself meeting the young man with a grin. The Warrior straightened at his side, nodding affirmatively. "Yes— Haurchefant came to join me in battle just in time," she said, looking up at him with a grateful pride that sent his chest softly puffing out with how full it suddenly felt.

"Would that I had been there even sooner!" he insisted, patting her armored shoulder in a friendly gesture. "A more tenacious an ally in battle I have not had in all my days — she held the dragon back from harming my men and Lord Francel all on her own for ages before I could arrive. And yet how ferociously she fought beside me, as if entirely unencumbered by fatigue or heavy armor."

"Haurchefant, please," the Warrior protested, seeming flustered. Alphinaud, for his part, looked delighted.

"'Tis heartening indeed to see you claim such victory so quickly under your new discipline," the young man said to the Warrior, a spark of hope in his eyes. "But this is the infirmary, and I can tell by the mess on both your armor that you both need healing." The pair of them nodded to Alphinaud in response, and he reached to the tome at his hip, his carbuncle scurrying out from underneath a table to join them.

Alphinaud Leveilleur was truly a talented healer, and after a couple of expertly cast spells, the Warrior was sighing in relief and stretching her arms and legs, no doubt slightly achy from their effective yet quick repair. "Thank you, Alphinaud, that feels much better."

The young man nodded, seeming glad, then turned to Haurchefant. "Lord Haurchefant?"

"Ah, yes — thank you," he said preemptively, taking a nearby seat to make it easier for Alphinaud to heal him. The young healer worked quickly, casting the first of the spells he'd used on the Warrior. Immediately Haurchefant felt a relief through most of his body as the magic began to take effect, speeding up his natural healing by an incredible magnitude.

Yet as the spell reached his hands, he bit his lip to stifle an uncomfortable grunt of pain — both sets of eyes nearest to him widened in concern.

"Ah... mayhap I should have mentioned, I—I did sustain a bit of a burn, I believe..." He sheepishly removed the glove and gauntlet on his shield arm, revealing reddened skin on the back of his hand and up part of his forearm. His hand in particular appeared to have had some nasty-looking blisters form upon it... had the wound been so serious? He had not realized; perhaps the adrenaline from their battle had dulled the pain? Years of fighting the dragons had certainly given him a certain tolerance to the unique discomfort of burns.

"Oh—" Alphinaud mouthed in concerned understanding, then cast Esuna at his wrist. His aether felt soothingly cool against his burn, which bubbled gently and seemingly sunk back into his skin, fading before their eyes without a trace. Haurchefant let out a sigh of utter relief. "I know you are short on magical healers and are used to relying on traditional methods, Lord Haurchefant, but please — if you have significant injury, always let a healer know so they may treat it first to avoid unnecessary pain," the younger Elezen explained with patient concern. Haurchefant felt a little foolish and nodded, agreeing to do so, and Alphinaud began casting a third regenerative spell upon him to cement his healing.

He realized he still felt the Warrior's eyes on him, and looked up to meet them — the firm, almost stern worry he saw upon her features had him gasp in a quiet breath.

After their healing had been finished, some knights who'd sustained injury fighting the wyverns wandered in, and the Warrior and Haurchefant bid farewell to Alphinaud and began to descend the stairs back down to the courtyard.

"Haurchefant," the Warrior said softly, looking around them to make sure no eyes were on them before touching her hand to his forearm. "Why didn't you tell me you had been burned?"

Why hadn't he? Well... it had seemed trivial in the moment, and enduring such pain was second nature to him at this point. It had all simply faded in the wake of their glorious victory. "T'was nothing, or so I thought, really." From the thin line of her lips, she seemed unconvinced. "Enduring the heat of dragonfire is simply something one becomes accustomed to as an Ishgardian knight. It was not truly severe, not a scar nor trace remains. Even without the luxury of healing magicks I would not be bandaged for more than a fortnight."

He offered her a smile, but she simply sighed, then grabbed his sword arm and pulled him into a small stone closet where buckets and mops and the like were stored, shutting the door behind them.

"M-my friend?" He asked, startled. She took a step closer to him, her brow furrowed, eyes searching his.

"You took an injury simply to give me an opening. What would have happened if it hadn't been enough? If my attack hadn't pierced true?"

Haurchefant drew in a breath, his mouth falling open slightly. "I... I had faith in you, my friend. I believed that it would."

It was the truth, and as he watched her eyes flit back and forth, taking it in, he knew she realized this. Still, she met him with a sympathetic smile before dropping her gaze down towards their feet and sighing again. "Too many of my allies have sacrificed too much for my sake, Haurchefant. I—I know you were only doing your duty. But next time, could you please try not to take such reckless risks? I am certain we could have held out longer and taken the enemy down without you needing to come to harm."

He found himself laying his hands gently upon her shoulders, nodding slowly and speaking softly as to not be overheard. "If it truly pains you, my heart, I will endeavor to avoid coming to harm in the future. Though it will ever be my priority to protect, and I cannot always put myself first — a knight lives to serve, after all," he said, brushing a soot-stained section of hair out of her face, and she nodded back up at him, full of serious understanding.

"Thank you," she answered, breathing out a slow breath. Haurchefant's heart ached to see an expression of apparent relief curl up at the ends of her mouth; he was not used to being cared for and worried after in this way, and the wave of emotion that washed over him was unfamiliar and surprising. "That is all I ask."

The Warrior of Light watched Haurchefant's eyes on her curiously. He'd eased her concern, but the way he looked at her now... Had he not expected her to worry over him after he'd literally leapt into the flaming jaws of their enemy? His bright blue eyes, darkened in the dim light of the storage closet they stood in, searched hers rather seriously. She was about to open her mouth to ask if aught was the matter when she felt him trail a gloved hand up the side of her neck.

She watched, breathless and alert, as he bent down towards her, craning his long neck downwards, eyes fluttering shut as if to meet her with a kiss, his brows still furrowed with some apparent feeling— she closed her eyes too, stretching upwards on the toes of her armored boots, alive with the anticipation of it—

"Lord Haurchefant? Are you still in the infirmary?" a voice called from further down the stairs, and both of their eyes immediately snapped open, heads jerking towards the door before looking back at one another.

"Corentiaux," Haurchefant muttered under his breath, sighing disappointedly. He dropped his hands to his sides, offering her an appeasing glance.

The Warrior nodded, running a hand back through her messy hair in a barely-conscious attempt to straighten it. Her cheeks felt hot, her pulse pounding nervously. Right, yes, this was hardly the time or place... though she'd simply pulled him aside to talk, right?

Haurchefant bowed his head and, straightening the collar of his hood rather unnecessarily, stood up straight and left the closet. After a moment's pause she did too, following behind at a casual distance.

"Yes, Corentiaux, I was just on my way out," he said as he descended the stairs towards the sound of his voice. When the Warrior caught up to him, said young second-in-command was standing beside the doorway with his hands on his hips. A flicker of something like understanding passed over the blond's eyes as they met hers, and he nodded to her before turning to his commander.

"Ah, excellent, milord," he said, nodding curtly. "Would you mind returning to command with the Warrior of Light to file reports on your the recent incident? We are... currently rather overwhelmed with commotion, and are in pressing need of an official story to quell rumors and restore order."

"Already?" Haurchefant frowned curiously.

Corentiaux nodded again. "Quite — it seems whatever bit of heroics the two of you worked have inspired some exaggeration. I am certain the two of you did not, in fact, slay a great wyrm, despite what a rather inebriated new recruit said before we dragged him off to a holding cell for dereliction of duty...?"

The knight commander laughed, then cut himself somewhat short as his second's eyes narrowed slightly. "Goodness, no. Very well, I shall return at once to rectify this." He turned to the Warrior, gesturing to her with an open palm. "I trust you would not mind accompanying me?"

She smiled and inclined her head, placing a hand on her hip. "Not at all."

Camp Dragonhead's command office was uncommonly busy, even compared to earlier this morning. The lower-ranking knights and hired adventurers around them began to murmur as the three of them entered, but a terse look from Ser Corentiaux quickly silenced them.

The two knights walked her through the steps of filing a formal incident report, a process she was not exactly familiar with, but took to quickly thanks to her former experiences dealing with paperwork for the Arcanist's Guild. Haurchefant began penning his own report as she became absorbed in hers, and the quick glide of his nib against parchment caught her eye, making her take a closer look.

His handwriting was neat and elegant, a far cry from the barely legible scrawl of soldiers in the grand companies she was used to dealing with. She blinked — she'd received a letter of recommendation from him before, but had for some reason assumed he'd dictated it to a scribe what with how artful the penmanship was. Yet, no... that had surely been his own writing, she realized.

Ah... yes, she supposed it did make sense that a son of a noble house had been well instructed on proper formal penmanship. His writing was far neater than hers, even; despite being relatively well-educated thanks to her arcane pursuits and her late mother's insistence that she take any opportunities to learn that came her way, she still tended to write impatiently in somewhat messy loops.

Something about watching him write so beautifully had her captivated, his eyes downcast, framed by beautiful lashes and his brow furrowed in concentration as he wrote, and she only realized she'd been staring when she heard Yaelle clear her throat from where she stood beside the desk. She flushed, a bit embarrassed, and diligently finished up the rest of her report.

Once they were done, Haurchefant insisted she be given a chance to rest, but she heard none of it, instead choosing to take lunch before returning to help out wherever else she was needed - though perhaps no more combat for the day, she conceded. Poor Haurchefant was so busy with his administrative duties that his knights brought a meal to his desk, and she briefly considered taking hers in his office beside him, but... no, that would draw a bit of attention to them, wouldn't it? Even as she met Haurchefant's fond eyes and gave him a friendly goodbye, she could feel the gaze of several others in the room upon them.

Did they know? Could they sense that something had changed between them — the fleeting glances, the unbidden smiles that were so difficult to repress, the way her guard dropped around him completely? Or perhaps it was just the armor, and her declaration that she would serve House Fortemps for a time, that made them stare curiously. She wasn't sure, but the way others eyed her as she passed through the courtyard, some even raising a fist at her encouragingly, made her believe that it was most probably the news of the day's grand battle that drew their attention.

The rest of her day, compared with all she'd faced earlier, was relaxing in comparison — a meal taken in the privacy of her own room, as the dining hall housed no familiar faces and she did not wish to be made to recount the day's exploits yet again; and assistance with clearing the nearby paths north leading to Ishgard, with the summoned help of her ruby carbuncle to melt away some of the snow, though most of the clearing needed to be done by hand. The shoveling was long, laborious work, but thinking of what lay ahead afterwards — dinner with her friends, a warm fire, perhaps a relaxing bath shared with her lover and comrade-in-arms — had her working tirelessly without complaint.

By the time she found herself standing in the dinner queue, showered and dressed down in her usual lighter clothing both for comfort and to avoid attracting extra attention, she had expended her energy rather thoroughly and was ready for the comforts of camp.

"You seem in good spirits," a familiar, feminine voice sounded from behind her in line, and the Warrior of Light turned to see Tataru looking up at her with bright, curious eyes. "I take it your last evening was as much a prideful accomplishment as your morning?" she asked, in a tone just hushed enough to not seem conspicuous.

"Tataru," the Warrior laughed warningly, and the Lalafellin woman covered her devilish grin demurely with a small hand. "...Yes, I did have a good rest, if you must know."

"Rest, is it?" she asked teasingly, and the Warrior shot her a look that was unfortunately too much of a grin to quite be called stern disproval. "I see, I see. Sounds like Lord Haurchefant had quite the long rest himself, from what I gather," she added with a tone of impressive nonchalance, before the two of them were scooted ahead in line and began to fill their trays with the day's offerings. "There was quite a fuss at breakfast. A pity you weren't here to appreciate the commotion, so in need of resting as you must have been."

"I-I see," the Warrior replied, taking a roll of bread from a nearby platter and moving forward to be doled out a bowl of some kind of typical Ishgardian cream soup. Her cheeks felt warm, and she found herself willing them to cool. "Well, I suppose we did both wind up needing every bit of extra energy we got, what with the dragon and all."

"Oh, yes, of course," Tataru said, sounding rather chipper as they were both ladled a steaming cup of soup. Having finished the line, they both turned and began to walk towards their table, the Warrior slowing her gait so her friend could keep up. "It sounds like you two made quite the team out there, if even a quarter of the stories I've heard today are true."

"Oh? What are they saying?" she asked, setting her tray next to Alphinaud's and sitting down beside him. Tataru did the same across from her next to Yugiri, both of them greeting them with smiles, their mouths either full or simply not wanting to interrupt their conversation.

"Oh, lots of things," Tataru began, unfolding a napkin and laying it out upon her lap. "That you've somehow become a knight of House Fortemps, that you and Haurchefant fought beside one another with such synchronized swiftness that you must have faced battles together in the past, that he lent you his prize chocobo... but none of that is true, is it?"

The speed at which Tataru seemed to absorb gossip never failed to astonish and amuse the Warrior. Sometimes it was even a bit frightening, if she had to be honest.

"Not to my knowledge, no," she chuckled, settling in and grabbing her knife and fork. "Though I have had to explain to several groups of people that I am not sworn to House Fortemps in any official capacity."

"Still, surely such service will get the attention of House Fortemps once word reaches Ishgard?" Alphinaud piped up after swallowing a sip of water from his glass.

"Perhaps," the Warrior conceded humbly, thinking back towards Haurchefant's plans of convincing his father to take them in as wards. Having slain a dragon alongside the Count de Fortemps' son to help their ally, House Haillenarte, certainly couldn't hurt their chances, could it? "I suppose we'll just have to wait and see."

Her friends soon asked her for a direct recounting of the morning's battle, and for once it was one she was happy to give. Though she did notice Haurchefant was conspicuously absent — still busy with his duties, she assumed — and she wondered how much more spirited a retelling it would have been, had he been seated beside her at their table, interjecting in the enthusiastic, passionate way he tended to tell stories, particularly ones where she was involved.

...Had she really been such a fool that she'd thought the man had only had feelings of friendship for her? In retrospect, it was painfully obvious how much he'd plainly admired her. She let her thoughts drift to him after her story came to its conclusion, between sips of hot soup.

The way he'd held her, caressing and kissing her scars, writing over her insecurities with pleasure and love, given freely... The way they'd both been reluctant to part in the morning, his body seemingly drawn to her by a force that took all his strength to resist. And the moment they'd shared this afternoon in one of the infirmary's supply closets, the look she'd seen in his eyes before they'd shut...

She became dully aware of her name being called, and shook herself out of her reverie, blinking quickly. "Yes?" she answered, unsure what exactly had been said.

"...Are you certain you are alright?" Alphinaud asked with a frown, reaching towards her as if to take her temperature with his small palm, before realizing his presumptuousness and retracting his hand into his lap. "Tataru was asking which color scarf she should make you, but we called your name thrice before you gave an answer..."

"I'm sure she simply needs a good rest," Tataru observed, the corners of her mouth upturned almost imperceptibly. She still held two skeins of yarn in her small hands. "The comforts of a warm bed should work wonders."

The Warrior suppressed a flush at Tataru's skillful teasing, which was bold enough that Yugiri's pink lips formed a silent circle in barely concealed scandal, yet subtle enough that Alphinaud simply tilted his head, considering.

"The blue," the Warrior blurted out quickly, pointing to one of the skeins her meddlesome friend held. "'Tis very kind of you, Tataru. And yes, I feel fine," she said with a shrug, turning to the young Elezen. "'Twas simply a rather long, eventful day."

"I'd say," Alphinaud agreed, seeming reassured. "Perhaps you should turn in early tonight, you have certainly earned it."

She ignored Tataru's eyes glinting with mischief at her from across the table and nodded, dipping the last chunk of roll in the dregs of her soup and stuffing it in her mouth, rinsing it down with a quick sip of water. "I suppose I shall, then," she assented, inclining her head. "Please rest too, especially you, Alphinaud — I can tell you've been overextending yourself again, and you won't be much help to anyone if you don't stop to fully replenish your aether."

The white-haired Elezen blinked in surprise, then gently set down his spoon. "Yes... yes, you are quite right. I suppose I can't hide anything from a fellow arcanist, can I?" She smiled at him, shaking her head just slightly. "I shall take the morning off, then," he offered, and she nodded, approving.

Tataru said nothing further to tease her as she said her farewells and rose from the table, but the knowing look in her eyes had the Warrior rolling her own eyes as she turned to leave. She didn't suppose Tataru might find a love interest of her own to occupy her well-meaning but meddlesome attentions in Ishgard? No, perhaps not, she thought, suppressing a snort of laughter at the image of the small woman standing on a high tabletop in an attempt to kiss some handsome Ishgardian — how ridiculous. No, Tataru didn't seem the type to fall easily besides; poor Wedge of Garlond Ironworks, still pining after her, she was sure, could attest to that. Well, she supposed she could live with the teasing, if it meant she could spend as much of her spare time with Haurchefant as she liked.

The Warrior's heart felt light as she left the dining hall, grabbing a few more things from her quarters before heading up towards Haurchefant's private chambers. Oh, she hoped he would be free from his duties soon... perhaps he would already be waiting for her? Her silly, pining heart brushing aside her fatigue, she did her best to act nonchalant to those she passed, despite the most indulgent thoughts of him that filled her head.

"Another supply request requires my approval? Surely, Ser Corentiaux, you know the status of our stores well enough to handle this matter on your own," Haurchefant Greystone protested, worn and weary from a day of grueling administrative work. Until perhaps an hour ago, he'd borne the duty with exceeding effectiveness and vigor; the victory he'd claimed at the Warrior's side charging him with enthusiasm and energy. Yet when he'd been drawn into an ordeal over repairs and other minutiae that went on so long that a House Fortemps steward brought him his dinner at his desk, he'd quickly found himself losing most of his patience.

Fury's mercy, if he wasn't allowed to retire to his chambers soon, where he hoped the Warrior of Light — his love — would be awaiting him, taking in the comforts of his home—

Ser Corentiaux seemed unimpressed, though he too seemed worn by the long hours of the day. "...Be that as it may, I do not hold the proper authority," he insisted. Yes, of course he was right, but...

"Can it not wait until morning? I am, I must sincerely admit, in dear need of a reprieve for the evening," he muttered, rubbing his temples with a frown.

The blonde knight looked him over thoughtfully, considering, though he didn't seem fully convinced.

"Oh, surely you can go easy on him, Corentiaux," came the voice of Ser Yaelle as she approached from across the room, a fresh dusting of — blessedly — very light snow atop her hair and armor. "He's done more than twice his usual work this evening, and slain a rather fearsome dragon to boot. I would say milord has earned his rest."

Oh... Though Ser Yaelle's voice this morning had torn him out of the bliss of the Warrior's sleeping embrace; the way it hit his ears now, offering him a gracious olive branch, had him thanking his stars for blessing him with such a caring subordinate.

"Yaelle," Corentiaux said by way of greeting, inclining his head in her direction. The woman's eyes narrowed in a way that, while not quite a smile, was not entirely an unfriendly gesture either. There was, Haurchefant had long observed, quite an odd working relationship between the two, somewhat akin to a rivalry. He held his breath, watching them.

"...I suppose it is rather late," Corentiaux conceded, setting the stack of papers he held onto his commander's desktop. "This will just have to wait until morning. Until then, Lord Haurchefant."

Haurchefant smiled and nodded, then rose from his chair. "Good night, Corentiaux, Yaelle," he said to both of them in turn, giving an especially grateful smile to the latter. She nodded slowly, eyes meeting his in a way that almost felt knowing... was she perhaps intentionally giving him time off to spend with the new lover she knew he had?

But, well, he couldn't be certain — so he simply left whilst idly wondering to himself.

"Ser Yaelle," Corentiaux said stiffly as soon as the door closed behind his commander, meeting his fellow knight with a frown. They were now alone in the room, the other knights having left long ago to take their evening meals. "Our lord was bells late this morning, do you not remember?"

Yaelle hummed, tapping a finger against her chin. "As a matter of fact I do," she said rather dryly. "Pray tell, do you know why he was late?"

The blond man folded his arms, leaning to the side. "He slept in, correct? I dispatched you to his chambers this morning to fetch him... ah."

For a young eligible man, Ser Corentiaux certainly was rather dense when it came to certain matters, Yaelle thought, running a hand through the chestnut locks that framed her face with a sigh.

"Truly, Corentiaux? You had not deduced the embarrassingly simple reason for our lord's recent change in disposition?"

The blond man scoffed, rolling his eyes, and Yaelle felt the corners of her lips upturn slightly, pleased at getting a rise out of him.

"Of course I had. There is clearly something going on between him and the Warrior of Light, though I know not if she returns his... clearly rather ardent affections," he returned, his serious lips pressed into a line.

Yaelle let out a high burst of a laugh, which only made his expression deepen into a frown. "Oh, Corentiaux, you don't understand women at all, do you?"

"I certainly have never claimed to," the blond grumbled, folding his arms. "'Tis not as if such knowledge would have me perform my duties more effectively."

Yaelle snorted. That was such an expected reply it was hardly amusing to her at this point — though it still was, just barely. "Aye, 'tis not as if you work with women on a daily basis."

"Do I? I hadn't noticed," he said casually, picking up a sheaf of documents and tapping them against the surface of Haurchefant's large desk to align them neatly.

Ah, yes. This was the man she worked with. She gave him a flat stare, taking the documents out of his hands and dropping them into Lord Haurchefant's inbox — just roughly enough to ruin the neat stack Corentiaux had just put them in, but not enough to seem excessive or aggressive. The corner of his eye twitched, and she drew in a breath, mildly satisfied.

"Well, your utter lack of observational skills aside, the Warrior is plainly smitten with our lord. I imagine he will be distracted for quite some time... but have you ever seen him so happy?" She said almost wistfully, feeling warm at the mere thought of it.

"...I cannot say that I have," he admitted, looking thoughtful. "If what you say is true, then... well, despite whatever complications or inconveniences it may shoulder us with, I am rather glad."

Yaelle nodded, meeting Corentiaux with a smile — he blinked as if surprised to see such an expression and smiled himself. This was one thing that the two of them could agree on.

"Lord Haurchefant has truly done so much for all of us here at Camp Dragonhead... it is about time he finds a lasting partner who truly cares for him, and I have not seen him form such close friendship in all my time here. Mayhap we should just let him sleep in if he does it again? So as not to spoil his chances?"

It was Corentiaux's turn to snort at this — he grinned dryly, a look he most often reserved for combat. "While I do agree that Lord Haurchefant deserves such companionship, I also rather clearly recall the desperate state you were in this morning, burdened with his share of the work... what was it you said before you left to retrieve him? 'If Lord Haurchefant does not show his face soon I will drag his honorable arse down here myself?'"

Yaelle glared at him, and he brought a hand to plainly cover a smile. "Be that as it may," she began, her cheeks hot with embarrassment, "at the time it was not so readily apparent to me exactly what had transpired to cause his absence."

"And what made it so apparent?" Corentiaux asked, folding his arms again, still seeming frustratingly amused.

"Well, for starters, he came to the door disheveled and bleary-eyed in nothing but a robe and slippers," she said flatly, and he simply shrugged as if of course this was expected. ...Which, honestly, it was. On the rare occasion Haurchefant had unwittingly shirked his duty due to overexertion and accidental oversleeping, the sight with which whoever woke him was greeted was much as she'd described. "And if you'll recall, the Warrior of Light had also not yet been sighted."

"An unusual occurrence at such an hour, yes; but surely not proof of anything untoward."

"Also her clothing was on the floor behind him."

"...Ah."

Corentiaux looked rather pink at this — hah! A victory at last, breaking the stiff young knight's vaunted composure.

"...Well, good for him," he muttered finally, running a hand back over his hair. "Not exactly proper behavior, but I suppose we can let it slide. Again. It is the Warrior of Light this time at least," he shrugged, throwing his hands up and beginning to walk across the large room. Yaelle kept pace with him, a smile on her lips.

"...Do you think she overpowers him in the bedroom too?" she asked, her eyes crinkling in a devious smirk.

Corentiaux jerked his head towards her and gaped, his mouth opening and closing before settling on a look of stern disapproval, his face rather red now. Hilarious. She only had a couple summers on him, but the way he got flustered at such talk, one would think he'd barely reached adulthood. "I—I wouldn't dare to dwell on such matters, and neither would I speak on them if I did," he insisted, his movements forward suddenly faster and more stiff. "Pray have discretion, Ser Yaelle, and don't go spreading such talk around camp."

"I would never," she scoffed, genuinely offended at the thought. "Preserving Lord Haurchefant's reputation... as best we can... is undoubtedly paramount," she remarked, and he nodded in firm agreement. "Yet you can't tell me in all honesty that you haven't imagined it," she added in a low, conspiratorial whisper, even though they were still alone in an empty room, and she could have sworn the man flushed pink to the tips of his ears.

"Have a good evening, Yaelle," he said loudly as he opened the door and stepped out into the fading light of dusk, and she chuckled and exited after him.

"Good evening to you too, Corentiaux," she called after him, grinning as she fumbled with her key and the door's lock.

Oh, yes. Her job really wasn't half bad, even on such a busy day as this had been. Rather lacking in romance, perhaps, but knowing Lord Haurchefant was likely now wrapped up in a romantic tale of his own surely gave her hope for her own prospects, eventually. Love wasn't easy for a Greystone, it was a harsh truth of life in Ishgard — well, of life in Coerthas at large, really — and if he'd indeed figured it out, then perhaps one day someone would leap her far less imposing hurdles and she'd have a lover living in the barracks with her too.

Still. The Warrior of Light? Color her extremely impressed.

Perhaps one day, if as she suspected this wasn't a simple tryst, this would all be out in the open and she'd be able to congratulate him. In the meantime, however, she — and, she was certain, despite all his reticent fluster, Corentiaux as well — would simply cheer them on from the shadows.

Despite his long-standing fondness for the comforts of home after a day of hard work, Haurchefant had hardly anticipated retiring to his chambers so much as he did now. His feet, which by all accounts should be rather tired of conveying his armored body around by this point, led him first to his training room to remove his mail and plate, and then very quickly down the hall to his quarters.

When he opened the door he was greeted with a wave of soothing heat — his hearth had been stoked brightly, and as he turned to the source of the heat he found the Warrior sprawled across his soft pelt rug in front of his fire, clad only in the light chemise and shorts of her bedclothes, clearly luxuriating in the warmth of the flames. Her face lit up as soon as she laid eyes on him, and, a broad smile spreading across his own face, he found himself practically diving down to the floor to join her.

Bent over her on his hands and knees, Haurchefant wrapped his arms around the Warrior, pulling her into an enveloping embrace, her small, powerful body gloriously warm in his arms.

"Did you miss me?" she asked with a hint of laughter, and he nuzzled his nose into her neck, taking a deep breath of her clean, sweet scent before meeting her eyes, his heart aglow.

"I fear I always will," he replied, running a hand up her neck. She sighed and shuddered into his touch, her eyes fluttering shut, and, oh, he could not resist any longer — he pressed his lips to hers, and found them soft and passionate, her hand weaving into his hair as she kissed him back.

His longing for her clearly returned, Haurchefant couldn't help but press his tongue into her mouth, causing her to make a soft sound of pleased surprise and relax her jaw, meeting him with flicks of her own.

When they finally broke the kiss, the Warrior pinned on the rug beneath him, flushed and grinning warmly, he couldn't help but sigh out her name, his hand coming up to cup her cheek and ear.

"You smell of steel and sword polish," she said, her voice low and intimately close.

"Oh... is that a bad thing? I was planning to go and freshen up," he said, hunching his shoulders with slight self-consciousness.

The Warrior shook her head, fingers playing with one of the long sections of pale azure hair that framed his face. "No, not at all... I can nearly imagine you just came from the fight," she replied, her eyes narrowed in open appreciation.

Haurchefant shivered, a wave of further need coming over him at her words. He returned her grin, brushing his nose against hers. "My love, you are a woman of incredible taste," he purred, moving in to kiss her once more. Her lips parted as he brushed them with his, but he drew in a breath, pulling back at the last moment. "What I would have given to have you here like this right after we'd slain that dragon together... your gorgeous body still heated and limber, glorious in its victory, the scent of smoke and metal yet clinging to your skin..."

The color of her cheeks darkened at this, her eyes widening. "Haurchefant," she chided half-heartedly, though he could tell she found his words exciting. "You've but just returned for the evening and already you intend to make a mess of me upon this fine woolen pelt?"

"I hadn't intended to do such, no; you were simply too inviting not to immediately embrace... but now that you present the opportunity so plainly..."

The Warrior of Light laughed, color lingering at her cheeks — and kissed him then, light and playful before a nip at his lower lip had him deepening the kiss.

Oh, he could get used to evenings like this, he thought, feeling her hot palm slip under the neckline of his light sweater. Truly, he could take uninterrupted weeks of this, he was certain... perhaps then his desire might cool for more than a matter of hours.

Yet, as she slid her leg against his hip, thumb brushing the clasp at one of his ears as she gladly welcomed his kiss, stoking a flame in his belly — oh, Fury above, he would accept however many moments alone with her that the gods deigned to give him.

Chapter Text

Haurchefant Greystone kissed the Warrior of Light the way she'd seen masters dance on a ballroom floor, she thought. Every flick and press of tongue, every brush of his hot lips upon hers felt targeted expertly to dare her to keep up else she be swept off her feet. Her heart flipped as if being effortlessly dipped and twirled, her fingers twisting through the long hair at the nape of his neck to ground herself, as though if she didn't hold tightly to him she might spin off somewhere else entirely in a feverish blur.

He groaned as she clung to him, his long fingers tightening where they held her waist, one arm still wrapped around her. She dragged her tongue across the inside of his lip as he made the sound, opening her eyes to watch him, and the knitting of his brow as he shuddered at her touch made her pulse race.

Gods preserve her, she'd only laid down here to relax by the fire, not expecting Haurchefant to return so soon (though, of course, dearly hoping he would); she surely hadn't thought he'd pounce upon her like this as soon as he came through the door.

And yet, her body responded as if it had been expecting exactly this scenario to unfold. He was... he planted a hungry kiss to her jaw, bright blue eyes meeting hers, before pressing his lips to her pulse behind her ear, his tongue flicking out against the sensitive skin there where he knew it would make her shiver with pleasure. She let out a soft sound at this, and he kissed her there again harder, making an earnest moan escape her lips... Yes, he was learning how to stoke the flames of desire within her incredibly quickly, so much it nearly overwhelmed. He drew back and looked at her, his eyes lustful and appreciative.

"I can scarcely believe it... The powerful warrior who fought fearlessly at my side this morning, enduring hours of grueling battle, yet still drawing up from within her enough overwhelming strength to soar into the air and sever a dragon's neck in one strike before my very eyes... now laid out by my hearth and moaning in my arms." His eyes glittered with hungry mischief, biting his lip in a grin, and she panted out a laugh, feeling a bit of pride rise within her chest despite her blush.

"I did fight well, didn't I? Do you intend to bestow upon me a reward?"

Haurchefant's eyes lidded with lustful appreciation, and he nodded, his nose brushing hers, silvery-blue hair falling in her face. "Mm, that I do, my love," he replied, his hand stroking down her collarbone, going in for another kiss.

A spark of something adventurous lit in the Warrior, his words and his kisses somehow replenishing some of her energy. Touching his shoulder with one hand and pushing off the ground with the other, she mustered her strength and flipped Haurchefant, his back landing on the soft rug. He gaped up at her, the breath momentarily shocked out of him — oh, he looked good like this, his messy pale blue hair blending into the cream colored wool pelt beneath him, his eyes lit up with surprise that was, quite clearly, not unpleasant in the least.

Haurchefant's heart raced as he looked up at the Warrior, clad only in her nightclothes — a cropped chemise and thin shorts that to his delight showed much of her well-sculpted form — as she straddled him, having flipped him on his back with a near effortless grace that knocked the breath out of him, though the tightly controlled maneuver itself had not.

Oh, by the Fury. A show of force like this, he—he had not been expecting, though in many idle daydreams and fantasies he'd dreamed of her holding him down, or else pushing him to a wall or some convenient surface and taking all she wanted from him... Seeing her there straddling his waist, her hands at his shoulders, her strong arms pressing him down in a way that made her glorious muscles clearly visible, a confident smirk on her flushed face, akin to an expression he'd seen on her in battle... oh, his cock strained against the confines of his trousers, finding himself suddenly aching for her.

"I know you admire my strength," she said, her eyes glinting alluringly in the bright, flickering firelight that bathed her skin in a brilliant glow. "If the reward is mine, may I claim it myself?"

"Yes," he answered in a fervent groan, stroking reverent hands up her bare thighs — he could feel the thick, corded muscle of her strong legs as she sat atop him, and the way her mouth dropped slightly open as she took in his eager reaction only served to make his head rush intensify. "But can you?" he teased, gripping her thighs firmly before running his hands up to grab her by the waist.

The Warrior was quick, grabbing Haurchefant's wrists with a tight grip — her hands were so much smaller than his, only the rough callouses on her palms belying the impressive strength she suddenly wielded against him. He strained hard against her, grinning in challenge — and breathing hard with the effort, he watched as, despite his own considerable physique and the intense struggle he put up, she slowly pinned his wrists to either side of his shoulders.

"I think I can," she replied, her breath fast with exertion and her eyes glittering with triumph. His heart beat out of his chest as he beheld her, her forearms bulging with oft-concealed strength — Oh Halone, his sword training had done her body good. She bent towards him with a breathless grin, and a ripple of heat like a levinstrike shot over his skin, straight down to his aching cock. Fury yes, you can, you can—

Her mouth on his was sudden and forceful and devouring, and he whined a noise of pure need through his nose as her tongue slipped into his mouth, curving lithely around his, making him ache. He kissed her back with equal passion, his head in a fog of lust. He felt himself strain against her hands unconsciously, wanting to pull her closer, to embrace her — but she held him there, kissing him hard, her chest pressed to his, only stopping when their mouths were dripping wet and they were both left panting.

She stared down at him with a wide-eyed hunger that had him arching his chest up towards her, licking his lips, finally relaxing into her grip. Then, urgency clearly overtaking her, she let go of his wrists only to pull up his shirt.

"Off," she said quickly, and he could not but comply; the layer came up over his head and was immediately tossed aside, his upper body now bare and panting beneath her. Haurchefant's heart pounded as he watched her stare at him like... Fury, nearly like a powerful goddess needing to claim her tribute, he thought, feeling swept away in her apparent lust for him.

She bent down, palms against the balls of his shoulders keeping him pressed against the rug. Her lips and teeth came to tease at his earlobe, hot breath puffing loud in his ear, and he barely managed not to whine outright at the shiver of pleasure it sent down through him.

"You look so good like this," she said in a breathy whisper, making him suck in a sudden breath, his cock throbbing at her praise — he instinctively tried to tilt his hips up and grind against her, but she was just far up enough to be out of his reach. She simply smiled smugly down at him, a look that made his heart race.

"I do?" Haurchefant huffed in an overwhelmed half-laugh. "Whatever has come over you, my heart, I... I must say I very much like it," he said, eyes searching hers in aroused near-disbelief.

The Warrior looked down at Haurchefant, her heart racing. What had come over her? Maybe... maybe it was the thrill of their shared victory, stirred up by the scent of steel and sweat still lingering on Haurchefant's skin. Maybe it was simply her competitive nature, not content to give in and let him lead every time, decadent and wonderful though it was when he did.

But to look at him now, flushed underneath her to the tips of his ears, looking absolutely thrilled to have been overpowered by her in such a way, returning her forceful kisses with a mounting desperation that made heat soak straight down to her core, well...

Gods, she felt powerful.

Was he hard? Oh, she'd bet that he was, with the way he bucked his hips up futilely, her ass just barely out of his reach. It was tempting to scoot backwards or reach a hand behind herself and check... but whatever rebellious spark which had lit in her this night compelled her not to.

It will be more fun to make him desperate for it, she thought, teasing the cartilage of his ears with her fingertips and feeling a breathy moan escape him and puff hot against her cheek.

He groaned her name incredulously at this, and she smiled sweetly, pressing a gentle little kiss to his jaw. She couldn't help but take a deep breath at his neck — gods, he truly did still smell like the fight — and imagine what if she'd just claimed him as his prize right then and there, in front of everyone. She shuddered, feeling her own need surge again.

"I think I like it too," she finally answered, feeling a delicious tension as their eyes met, both eager and weighted by some balance of power. "You certainly look like you're enjoying yourself," she teased, fingers ghosting feather light up the side of his neck, making his lips fall open. Gods, those beautiful full lips...

"I'd be enjoying myself even more if you took your pleasure from me properly," he breathed in a grin. "My glorious, most victorious Warrior of Light."

"Mmm," she replied, her finger trailing over his jawline, before coming to rub across his lower lip, swollen and red from how roughly they'd kissed. She could feel his body tense below her with anticipation, see his eyes open wide. "I think I very well might."

Bracing a hand on his shoulder as she did, looking him straight in the eye, the Warrior slid her shorts and smalls off one leg at a time, then her top, revealing herself fully in the firelight before him. Haurchefant ran his eyes over her with a reverent look of deep need, bringing his calloused hands up the sides of her thighs as she moved to kneel above his shoulders.

"Oh Fury yes," he gasped before she could even ask, and she took this as the most eager permission that it was — she let her thighs slide wider apart, her hands coming to cup the sides of Haurchefant's head, fingers threading into his hair — and fell upon him, seating herself on those gorgeous lips of his.

Haurchefant sighed out a hot groan of desire as the Warrior seated herself upon his face. Fury take me, he thought, nearly trembling, to... to be made to please her in this way...

He opened his mouth eagerly, greeting her with his lips and tongue — which, to his delight, quickly sank into the most decadent wet heat, her lips quickly spreading to engulf his mouth. His nose brushed against her hard clit and he felt her thighs tremble under his palms... oh, yes, he was going to make a mess out of her on this fine rug. Fury, she was so wet already and he'd only just begun.

He began to lap up her arousal, finding himself ravenously hungry for it, his hands gripping her thighs to angle himself. Oh, the way she tasted... milky, tangy and sweet, like the juice of some wonderful fruit Ishgard's cold climes could never grow. He could consume nothing else for the rest of his days and die happy, he thought. The sheer heat of her against his tongue and face, the way every fold and crease of her swelled and ached with desire for him, responding to his every slightest touch — the way she trembled and moaned atop him, watching him with eyes clouded with pleasure and desire. The way her thighs tightened around his head, powerful muscle straining with focused pleasure, as he swirled his tongue delicately around that sensitive little bundle of nerves at her apex... She cried out, a high, needy whine of a sound, just for him, and a pang of pleasure and want shot through him at the ring of it.

He could smell nothing but her, taste nothing but her, and when his eyes flicked up to her she was looking down at him, her expression wanton and desperate despite the position of power she was in — fuck, did his mouth feel that good? He stilled his motions, raising his eyebrows in silent, feverish question.

"Gods, Haurchefant, you feel incredible, please don't stop—" she moaned, thumb rubbing up the side of his ear. He shivered and panted a shuddering breath against her dripping cunt, which only served to make her shake above him — oh Fury, he was so hard now it nearly hurt, but how could he not oblige her?

He groaned in rapturous assent, licking and kissing and sucking at her in eager worship, savoring the feel of her against him, the taste, the heat, the slick delicious texture. His hands moved up to grip her ass — oh Fury, how decadent a treat for his greedy hands it was, soft and firm and voluptuous all at once, much more than filling his broad palms. Her breath came faster now, her hips beginning to rock against his face—

"Oh fuck, H-Haurche— yes," she moaned, fingers tangling so tightly in his hair it nearly hurt but thrilled him, spurring him onwards. Her hips rocked harder against him, her eyes meeting him with a questioning look amidst their passion, that seemed to ask if this was okay — he moaned into her as enthusiastically as he could muster and she picked up speed, grinding against his face, quite literally taking her pleasure from him.

Oh Fury, he could hardly breathe, his face a mess, drenched in her come — yet all Haurchefant could think was, is this heaven? He could feel the power in the flexing muscles beneath his hands, carefully measured to take her pleasure without harming him, so utterly sensual it made his whole body draw taut with sheer desire below her. Somehow beneath her grinding he managed to suction his lips around her swollen clit, letting his tongue just barely brush against it, ripe for her to grind right into as he lapped at her in a steady rhythm — she cried out, swearing to the gods and praising him in equal measure, quickly becoming near-incoherent—

"I'm — ohhh, fuck, I'm so close, oh Haurche, I'm going to—"

Yes, yes, come, my love, he thought, staring up at her writhing form with desperate eyes, his heart pounding out a frenetic rhythm — she looked down at him again, her eyes nearly unfocused, right on the edge —

Then, biting her fingers to poorly stifle the sound, the Warrior cried out above him, her whole body tensing, her thighs trembling and hips stilling as he steadily brought her over her peak — he could feel the muscles of her slick core pulsing against his face as she came, hear her panting as waves of apparent pleasure washed over her, see her throw her head back, her grip in his hair becoming strong as iron then slowly loosening.

Oh, Fury forgive him for his heretical thoughts, but from where he lay he could not but believe that she was a deity in her own right... somehow even more beautiful in the throes of pleasure above him than she was at the peak of her power in battle.

He lapped delicately down towards her entrance as she came, drinking up her come, savoring her taste. She began to squirm a bit above him, lifting her hips as if to get up — but, ravenous and determined to see her writhing above him in further ecstacy, he squeezed her ass tightly in his grip, keeping her atop him.

"H-Haurchefant?" she gasped, looking down at him with flushed surprise — he simply smirked against her, nuzzling his large nose against her swollen clit, making her squirm some more.

Take as much from me as you need, my heart, he thought, swirling his tongue around her entrance. "Surely you're not already done?" he breathed against her in a low tone, and her face lit up in a nearly possessive grin — oh, that delighted him, being looked at by her in such a way.

"Oh, Twelve," she groaned, grinding against him again, beginning a slow, gentle pace. "No, no I'm not — gods, Haurchefant, mmm—" She cut off in a whine as he pressed his tongue inside her, his nose still rubbing at her clit... Fury, she was molten hot and so wet, and his mind simply sank into the heat of it all, losing himself in her, her body, her taste, her mounting pleasure.

She was so gloriously responsive; each time he did something she liked he knew so right away, through the way her muscles tensed, or her chest heaved in a gasping breath, or the most beautiful little sound escaped her mouth. And she was so... so greedy for it too, so earnest and eager; she ground against his lips in just the right way and cried out and then did it again and again, making an absolute mess of his face as she began to tremble in apparent ecstacy.

"Yes, yes, please, Haurchefant, oh— oh gods—"

She was a babbling mess above him, riding him with little restraint. He could barely keep up with her motions now, and surely his jaw would ache in the morning, but— but, oh merciful Halone, if only I could taste her pleasure like this forever—

She came again, sending a shudder of satisfaction through him, her walls fluttering around his tongue and rekindling his own consuming flame of need. He watched her tense and arch above him then fall forward, bracing herself on her palms, panting hard as she rode out the end of her orgasm.

Both of them panted together for a short while, Haurchefant taking a moment to relax his jaw and rest, until finally she lifted her hips off of him shakily, scooting back to hover over his waist again. She brushed his hair out of his eyes and met him with an absolutely blissful, lust-addled smile.

"That was... wow," she said, her eyes yet glazed over with pleasure somewhat, still breathing heavily. "Are you... are you alright?"

He grinned, bringing his hand up to cup her cheek, then licked his lips. "Oh, yes..." His voice came out lower and more breathy than he'd expected, the words more difficult to form after he'd worn his mouth out somewhat making her come twice, having his face ridden by her. "I am far more than alright, my love. Did you take everything you'd wanted? I daresay you deserve even more..."

She met his eyes and breathed in deeply, and the look she gave him — a spark of realization and nearly awed appreciation, that settled into another smirk — sent heat pooling in his sorely aching cock, his body tensing in anticipation.

"...Not yet," she breathed in answer, curving herself down towards his yet-damp lips, and met him with an open-mouthed kiss.

The Warrior's own scent was spread all over Haurchefant's face, but, gods, she found she didn't care in the slightest as she bent down and pressed her lips to his. His mouth was hot and swollen and surely tired from making her come so hard, twice in a row even — Twelve, she felt absolutely drenched — but he met her still with an eager tongue and quick hands that moved to slide down from her shoulders to the small of her back, giving her the sense that he yet wanted more of her, rather badly.

The way his eyes had rolled back in his head with a groan of satisfaction as she'd seated herself upon his lips, his hot breath curling around her every curve... The way he'd moaned with desperate, ecstatic fervor as she'd ridden his face into oblivion, like there was nothing he wanted more than for her to use his mouth to take her pleasure again and again, to be of service to her...

Were it not the end of such a long, tiring day, perhaps she would have continued to ride his lips, coming apart atop him over and over until he was so close to drowning in her that he began to beg for mercy.

Yes... she might have done so, and might yet do so another day. But now, the last echoes of her second orgasm still working through her, the taste of herself filling her mouth along with Haurchefant's tongue, and his wandering hands, delightfully rough and calloused, coming down to cup her ass again and give her a tight squeeze... well, there was something else she wanted more.

"You must be so hard by now, surely?" she breathed against his lips, and the way his brows knitted upwards in desperation before he even spoke told her his answer.

Haurchefant nodded emphatically, looking disheveled and needy and all kinds of a mess beneath her — gods but he looked so good, she wanted him, wanted more of him, wanted to see his eyes glaze over in pleasure once again—

"I positively ache for you, my love," he confessed, his grip on her backside tightening. "But I can— can endure as long as you need, could taste you for hours," he insisted.

"Haurchefant," she whispered, feeling heat rising within her at his words.

"It is the truth," he said, his eyes clear and true azure upon hers, though the slight tremor in his fingertips betrayed an obvious struggle to maintain his restraint. "There is nothing I want more than to be your comfort, your pleasure, your reward," he said with a sultry groan, the timbre of it sending a shiver down her spine. "To be ever at your service, as long as my body allows—"

She could not take it anymore, his words igniting a blaze of need, adoration, and strangely something akin to defiance within her. By the Twelve, what was this man? Someone so giving, so selfless, who'd fearlessly jumped into a dragon's mouth for her, who'd fought just as bravely as she had, now utterly ignoring his own apparent need just to grant her yet more pleasure?

No... no, that wouldn't do. It was a wonderful treat to be served, to be adored, to be pleased by him... but she couldn't endure hours of leaving him untouched this night, despite whatever he claimed.

The Warrior drew back, a fire in her eyes — Haurchefant's own eyes widened before her, his brow knitting slightly in confusion, until she slid back and straddled his thighs, looking down at his tight, forest green trousers.

Gods, he was hard, incredibly so; the bulge she saw restrained by dark fabric was dramatic and so appealing. He breathed hard, looking at her, bewildered; she fixed him with an intense stare, fiery with sudden conviction.

"You fought just as well as I, Haurchefant," she said, "Do you not suppose you are also deserving of reward?"

"I—" he began, then swallowed, wetting his lips with his tongue. "Am I?"

"Yes," she breathed in answer, curving her palm over him, cupping the shape of him — he let out a gasp, arching his hips up into her touch automatically.

"Your—your pleasure is my reward," Haurchefant protested, but as she tightened her grip, sliding up and down over his shaft, he trembled, a small needy sound escaping from his nose.

"Is it?" she asked calmly, eyebrows raised. He bit his lip and looked altogether desperate beneath her, making a strange gesture like he was trying to nod his agreement but the need and hunger within him were too strong to let him.

"Well, then..." she continued, letting go of his straining bulge and instead tracing random, looping patterns over his bare stomach with her index finger, "I'll take my pleasure from you again, then, as you'd like."

The expression on Haurchefant's face wasn't one of displeasure, not in the least; but his stomach tensed erotically beneath her touch, his chest puffing upwards, his fists tightening at his side — clearly, he seemed to be struggling to contain his own selfish desire.

It was noble, she knew; his desire to please her pure and genuine. No man, or person for that matter, had ever pleased her with such an eager, fervently desirous mouth; even if they'd been expecting her to return the favor. No, Haurchefant gave of himself to the Warrior of Light because he truly wanted to. The look of deep, disheveled satisfaction and adoration he met her with after she'd come both times — and on nights before this one — made that rather apparent to her.

But, well. No one, so thoroughly aroused, could suppress their own needs forever. Nor did she want him to.

A confident smile spread across her lips, her eyes lidding.

"Like this," she purred, running her fingers down his stomach until she reached his waistband and grabbed it firmly in her hand. Haurchefant inhaled sharply, and she smiled at him and undid the fastening of his trousers with deft hands.

"You—you want them off?" he asked, eyes wide. She nodded and moved just out of his way, and felt a thrill as he complied readily, baring himself before her in a flash, sighing in relief as he freed himself from the tight confines of his smalls.

Gods, he was a sight to behold — icy blue hair a total mess, his handsome face yet covered in her pleasure, his powerful, scarred body eager and near desperate beneath her, propped up on his elbows yet for the moment still restrained of his own volition, watching her as if greatly anticipating finding out what she would do to him next.

And, oh — as she straddled his waist again, pushing him down to the rug once more by his broad, muscular shoulders — she had not missed just how very obviously he needed her.

No, she hadn't uttered a single word of falsehood. She would take her pleasure from him again, most assuredly.

But the real question was, how much of her pleasure could he take before he started begging her for his own?

Her heart beating quickly, a devious thrill running through her, the Warrior of Light met Haurchefant's eyes with heated challenge.

Haurchefant breathed hard underneath the Warrior of Light as she held him down again, her strong arms gripping his shoulders, and something in her eyes that burned through him like a levinstrike, putting his every nerve ending on edge.

Fury, this was truly the Warrior of Light he now faced, a fearless woman who had slain gods — the intense look in her eyes of defiant determination, as though she faced him not in the bedroom but in battle, made him sense this all over again.

This... this was the woman he wanted, who he'd been overcome with desire for at the end of each of their practice bouts; who, ultimately, had been more than a match for him even when he'd brought his all to bear for her. Truly, he wanted to know all sides of her, and each new expression of her desire for him was just as appealing as the last, but... She brought her lips towards his, her eyes narrowing with focused desire, her breath puffing against his skin, and the sheer tension he felt in the air between them nearly drove him mad. And then, her lips barely brushing his, she drew back and smirked. He could feel his chest flush at this, heated and aching.

Haurchefant knew he could simply draw his arms around her and pull her close. The heat of her skin against his would feel so good, and Fury, he could rut against her, beg to take her, show her how much his eager body needed her touch— but, no. She wasn't finished with him, and now having known the pure joy and indescribable thrill of the Warrior of Light taking her pleasure from him, even his own physical need could not supercede his desire to see her writhing above him gloriously once more.

Yet a small sound of need escaped his mouth as she teased him, despite his greater efforts. Her smile only widened, and as if thinking of something delicious she began to kiss down the long slope of his neck in slow, hot, wet nips. He groaned with the pleasure, his head feeling feverish.

"My—my love," he stuttered, pulling in a breath as she laid a sucking kiss at the tendons of his throat. His eyes met hers, her expression hot and heady, and he could no longer fully resist his impulses; he brought his hands up to run across her body.

The Warrior's mouth dropped slightly open, the muscled contours of her stomach tightening beneath his touch — Fury, he wanted her so badly. She watched him with darkened eyes, the air between them charged; he brought his palms up to caress and then squeeze at both her breasts. Both of them gasped, and Haurchefant marveled at the feel of her and the way her chest arched up into his touch, so erotically. He brushed his thumbs across her hardened nipples and he could feel her shudder with pleasure. Her eyes did not waver from his, hot and intimate and almost questioning, and the intensity set his head spinning.

"Were—were you not going to take your pleasure from me again," he managed to breathe out nearly in warning, his self-restraint rapidly crumbling.

"Yes," she replied in a near-whisper, her eyes dark. The corners of her lips just barely turned up, she tugged at one of his wrists and he took the clear message, dropping his hands to his sides.

Then, running a soft yet calloused palm down the line of his stomach and watching him squirm and gasp with desire — she crawled back until she hovered just above his thighs, his yet untouched, aching erection rather obviously visible between them.

Merciful Halone, was she going to—? A look of wide-eyed elation flashed across his face, and she met him with a slight grin, her eyes downcast. Then, finally, she caught sight of his heavy, aching cock and Haurchefant thrilled as a look of utter hunger came over her.

"Oh, Haurchefant," she breathed approvingly, in a tone that sent a delicious shiver down his spine, making him feel sorely wanted. "Look at you..."

He couldn't help but do as she suggested, taking a good look between his legs. He was painfully hard by this point, his reddened, weeping cock almost brushing his bare stomach, which was sticky and damp with his slick. The way she looked at his body now gave him the clear impression that she wanted to touch him almost as badly as he wished to be touched. Her hand came to wrap loosely around his shaft, making him hiss in a breath and buck up into her hand. Immediately, frustratingly, she completely let go, her hand pressing down at his hip instead, forcing him to still. He stuttered out a cry of protest, locking eyes with her.

"'Tis my reward I am claiming," she said, a look of — oh, he felt a thrill of heat rush through him at the sight — nearly possessive want on her features. She smiled, almost sweetly, gently running her fingers through the thicket of pale, soft hairs there, making his skin tingle. "Did you not say you could endure for me, Haurchefant?"

I am but a man, and... and you are... part of his mind protested, but he swallowed, finding his mouth suddenly dry, and nodded. "I did," he murmured in assent, "but my body, it— if you touch me like that," he tried to explain. She tilted her head gently as if maybe she didn't understand — but he knew that she most certainly did.

"Like this?" she said with feigned innocence, stroking her fingers gently up his shaft, almost feather-light. Despite his efforts to restrain himself he felt his hips automatically strain against her grip, but the palm she'd placed at his hip held him down rather firmly with thrilling strength. "If you are unable to hold yourself back, I suppose I'll have to hold you back myself. If that's alright...?"

Was it alright? "Oh gods yes," he swore, trembling with restraint as she smiled and continued to stroke him gently, dipping her finger in his slick and coating him in it. Her movements were truly incredibly light, delicious and teasing but absolutely not getting him anywhere. Rather pointedly, she seemed to be avoiding stroking far up enough to satisfy. It was wholly torturous, and as she shifted forward she did not break eye contact for a moment, licking her lips hungrily.

Fury, she— she rose up on her knees, straddling his lap now, her rough yet feminine hands holding him down by both of his muscular hipbones. She was beautiful, the muscles of her arms flexing, her thighs and inner lips yet glistening with the come he'd coaxed from her, and— and she—

Her eyes burned into his, her lips parting as she tilted her hips forward, grinding her dripping sex against his. A wave of heat, part her body heat and part a surge of momentary satisfaction that burned away into raw need immediately, ran through him, and made his whole body tense and strain futilely against her weight despite his best efforts to control it.

She sighed, a sound of pure pleasure and relief, and he could not help but moan, feeling utterly desperate beneath her.

Was she going to take her pleasure from his aching cock without granting him relief as well?

As nearly insane as this made him feel, he found he wanted her to, more than anything.

"F-Fury," he groaned her name, "you— do you intend to drive me mad?" he stammered, his fingers tangled in the rug at his sides to brace himself.

"Perhaps," she replied with a slight giggle to her voice, and, his heart pounding, Haurchefant found himself eager to surrender to her madness.

The Warrior of Light felt practically invincible as she ground down into Haurchefant, the heat and pressure of his large, thick cock against her slick, swollen clit so delicious she quickly began to rut against him with abandon, chasing the heady pleasure it gave her, careful to not even brush his straining, nearly purpled head.

Gods, he was making the most erotic, desperate little sounds beneath her, his blue eyes blown dark and wide, his mouth dropped open — clearly enjoying this treatment just as much as he was being nearly tortured by it. His hips flexed desperately beneath her but her hands held him firm, and the feeling she felt at this — this powerful, muscular, much larger man simply trapped beneath her while she used the hard length of his cock only to pleasure herself with, watching his beautiful body strain with need beneath her — oh, fuck, she was going to come again already, wasn't she?

"Mmm, H-Haurchefant, your cock feels so good," she groaned, grinding into him at a merciless pace.

"Fucking Fury," he hissed in blasphemy, his fists tightening at his sides.

"It— it looks so good, too, fuck, I could come just looking at you," she whined, feeling the heat build and build, her head growing hot and hazy.

Haurchefant whimpered beneath her at this, gasping in a breath. "Please... please come," he begged, her name falling from his lips, his hips straining futilely against her weight.

Almost immediately she came, a jolting wave of pleasure rushing through her, making her grip on him loosen, her hands falling to her sides. His hips bucked up freely into her as she came, causing her to moan loudly and see stars, slumping backwards onto her palms in the wake of it all.

When she caught her breath enough to blink open bleary eyes and look at him, Haurchefant was admiring her even as his body yet felt tense beneath her and sweat streaked his brow.

Oh, by the Twelve... she hadn't expected him to endure so much so well, without a word of serious protest. She drew herself up onto her knees again, and she was surprised to see a look of alarm flash across his eyes.

"My heart," he breathed in warning, lifting his chest towards her and propping himself up on his elbows, "As—as much as I wish to grant you all the pleasure in the world, I—"

"You what?" the Warrior asked gently, stroking all the way up his slick cock, her fingers curling over his long-neglected head in just the way she'd learned he liked, but just a little bit lighter. Haurchefant moaned desperately at her touch, his hips chasing her grip. She let him, simply watching patiently.

"I need—"

"Hmm?" she asked sweetly, dragging her thumb in a slow, light circle around his head, through his foreskin. He trembled and whimpered, leaning back on his elbows, letting out a labored groan.

"I-I am at your mercy, my love, please," he begged, face heated and intense, only the barest thread of restraint holding him back now. "I would beg a-another reward—"

"...Do you need me?" she asked softly, gently caressing his inner thighs and watching him squirm.

"Yes," Haurchefant hissed, his knuckles white as the rug below him. "Or I fear I will find the strength to take you myself if you hold back for but one more moment," he confessed, and gods she could tell it was the absolute truth.

Part of her almost wanted to make him — to see him overwhelm her, to feel him plunge into her with reckless, selfish abandon.

But more than anything, she — gods, she wanted to make him come, and she'd been waiting for him to finally beg for it.

"Good," The Warrior praised, rising up higher, dragging her damp slit across his whole cock. He trembled beneath her, groaning at the sheer relief. "I'm going to make you feel so good now, Haurchefant, you deserve nothing less," she swore, taking him in hand and positioning him at her entrance. "That is what you want, right?"

"Fury, yes," he answered fervently, and finally, finally, yes, she could nearly hear both of their bodies cry out in relief — she began to sink down onto him.

Haurchefant found himself swearing and moaning desperately as the Warrior of Light sank down onto him ilm by ilm. Halone preserve him, even after reaching her peak so many times she was yet so tight around him; her slick, molten pleasure and relief making him throw his head back despite how badly he wished to watch her take him.

She lifted herself only to push down further, taking him about halfway, and he found the strength to meet her eyes — oh, she was overwhelmed by it too, her look of heated confidence rapidly melting into one of near-mindless lust.

"Haurchefant," she moaned, her strong thighs trembling around him as she sunk down deeper. "Are you — are you bigger like this? Oh, fuck..."

"Too... too much?" he huffed, grinning hazily.

"No," she replied, a defiant spark glinting in her firelit eyes. She leaned forward, her hands against his chest, meeting his eyes with challenge, her hot breath puffing against his face. As he brought his hands up to cup her jaw, she pushed down onto him, crying out with a wholly animalistic, desperate moan, pleasure like levin coursing through him as she engulfed him completely.

"F-Fury," he cried, groaning with satisfaction. "Are you—" he began to ask, her well-being ever his first concern, but she shook her head, leaned into his palm and licked at his thumb in the lewdest way as she started to slowly ride him, heat searing up through his thighs and core from where they were joined.

Oh... oh Halone have mercy, though he had of course imagined what it might be like to be taken by the Warrior of Light in such a way, the reality of it was... She looked into his eyes with a darkened expression of utmost lust, sucking at his thumb needily as she held him down and rode him, gradually quickening her pace, her slick walls gripping his cock so tight each time she lifted up, nearly primal moans escaping her pretty lips each time she took him fully, and...

And, and Fury, he was begging her now through needy, hungry moans of his own, wholly incoherent pleas — Please, oh Fury, oh— yes, yes, more, please — and every plea he made she answered with all the passion and urgency he gave it with, so eager now to grant him his every desire.

Naught else mattered now but the searing heat of pleasure winding through them, and the Warrior's incredible body, powerful and glorious above him, trembling with pleasure even as she took his full length into herself again and again with sensuous, increasingly frenzied thrusts. And, oh, she was shaking above him too now, groaning and desperate, and the way she praised him as she claimed him completely—

"Oh gods, H-Haurche, you — you're covered in my come," she groaned, sliding a hand up to touch his chin. "You look—look so good, ah— feel so fucking perfect inside me too," she whined, cutting off in a moan as she dropped down, her thighs shaking by now. "Served me so well — oh, ahh—"

She ground into him so deeply in a way that sent shockwaves through them both, and all Haurchefant could do was whine out her name, his hands grabbing at her muscular waist. His hips bucked up into her grip, all his self-control completely gone now, but she still held him down, utterly ravaging him with a nearly unfocused smile on her face.

Fury, the things that fell from her lips, the way she was taking him... heat boiled underneath his skin, and it was about to—

"Do one last thing for me?" The Warrior panted as the heat began to rise, his body trembling.

"Anything," Haurchefant choked out.

"Come inside me," she urged in a husky, near-feral whisper, and—and oh Fury it was as if something inside him had been unchained. Strength surged through him and he pulled her down close to his chest, bending his long neck to bite and suck at her neck and ear, his hips pounding up into her exquisite heat with relentless ferocity.

The Warrior yielded fully to him, all but melting into his arms, wanton cries of pleasure that were all but screams tearing from her lips, her body shaking atop his, and — his hips yet erratically slamming into her, white-hot pleasure seared through him as he came, bursting apart deep inside her. As soon as he did, a high, sharp sound came from her and, oh, her cunt pulsed tightly around him, wringing every last drop from him as he was yet still coming, making him tremble and moan, every bit of him coming undone.

As Haurchefant finally came to, every ilm of his tense body having melted into the rug beneath him, he realized with a start he'd clamped his teeth onto her neck in his passion, not breaking her skin but still leaving a set of reddish marks. "Fury," he groaned, throwing his head back onto the rug. "What did you do to me," he said with a breathy laugh, his pulse still pounding hard in his ears even as it began to calm.

"What did you do to me?" she laughed in much the same way, lifting her chin to look at him before her head fell down, cheek resting against his firmly beating heart. She seemed fully spent, making no attempt to uncouple herself from him. Her powerful body which had utterly dominated him mere moments before now lay limp in his arms, warm and still breathing hard. "That... that was..."

He nodded heavily, his eyes blinking shut. "Yes," he breathed, so wrung out and sated that for the moment he could find no other words, "yes, it was."

When his eyes flitted back open, she was looking at him with an exhausted smile — oh, she was truly beautiful, even in such an utterly debauched state.

"Gods I love you," she murmured, her voice yet raw. Haurchefant's heart leapt in his chest, his eyes widening. "I mean, maybe it's the wrong moment for that, but—"

He cut her off by lifting her face in his palms and pressing his lips to hers in a firm yet gentle kiss, lightly flicking his tongue into her open mouth. She let a sigh escape through her nose and kissed him back, slow and tender, her heart beating out a steady rhythm so close to his.

"I love you too," he answered as their lips parted, eyes searching one another. "...Though I fear you may destroy me one day. By the Fury, I have never had my endurance tested in such a... maddeningly delicious way," he admitted, grinning slyly.

She smiled back, flushing and breaking eye contact — oh, there was that shyness again, even after what she'd just done to him? A more endearing woman simply does not exist, he thought —

"I couldn't help myself," she divulged, idly tracing a finger across one of the scars that marked his chest. "You seemed to... to need it so badly. Was I wrong?"

"No," he answered immediately. "If I may be so bold I believe I've been sorely in need of whatever that was for my entire life," he laughed, though his tone and the loving way he looked at her hopefully conveyed that he was rather serious. He'd had past partners play with their power dynamics in bed before on occasion and it had mostly all been good fun, but this, with her... the woman he trusted and admired above all others, who he'd given his heart to and received hers in turn... not to mention the considerable strength they both wielded, it was... satisfying in ways that made his head spin to simply consider. He wanted to try everything with her, a desire that had been lit in him from their first touch but felt so much stronger each time the thought occurred to him.

She grinned sheepishly, her blush deepening. "Well, then... good," she replied, then smiled at him almost nervously, her eyes loving and sincere. "I think I may have been in need of you my whole life too," she added so very quietly, and he felt himself flush, his heart swelling in his chest. "A-anyway, maybe you should carry me out of here again? I don't want to ruin your nice rug."

His heart feeling wholly radiant with affection and his body still reeling from being effectively ravaged, Haurchefant quietly and carefully rose to his feet, breathing deeply as he found his balance with the Warrior of Light tucked safely in his arms, still entwined with him.

"Perhaps a shower before bed?" he offered, his voice soft — she nodded, slipping her arms around his neck to steady herself.

Oh, he loved her, more than he even knew how to convey. If there was a man in all of Coerthas any more blessed than himself he knew them not — truly, there could not be anything more miraculous than being so truly needed by her, and he would not trade the words that had just reached his ears for all the wealth, status or honor in Ishgard.

As he carried her through his quarters to his bathing room she yet felt light even in his exhausted arms, her sturdy weight the furthest thing from a burden he could imagine.

He bent down and laid her on his bathing stool, both of them laughing as they awkwardly, messily uncoupled — what a wonderfully obscene thing to feel becoming nearly routine, he thought, her eyes meeting his with knowing humor as he helped her up to her feet.

"You know... I am yours for however long you may have me," he finally said, pressing his lips to the back of her hand. "I hope... I hope that it is a very long time. And not simply because if it is not I will most likely spend the rest of my life wishing to do that again," he laughed, his eyes narrowing conspiratorially.

She flashed a sly grin, then took his large hand in both of hers, looking up at him with a radiant look of... of love, he realized, confident and sure. "I know," she said, and his chest swelled as he drew in a breath, "so do I."

He returned her smile, his heart aching with love for her, and she shrugged her shoulders inward a bit and reached towards the tap.

As the showerhead above them suddenly blasted them both with ice-cold water, they both shrieked, leaping out of the way of the stream. Haurchefant frantically moved to adjust it properly, dripping wet and freezing cold and patently laughing his bare ass off.

"Wh—why did you—"

"I didn't know!" she shouted, clutching her waist and shivering and laughing all at the same time. "I thought it would be hot, all the ones down in the barracks are hot! It was hot this morning!"

"It takes time," he managed to explain between chattering laughter, "to get warm here — it needs to travel up the pipes—" A damp hand grabbed at his arm after he'd finished setting the tap properly, wide eyes silently pleading with him, and he bent down and held the freezing Warrior of Light tightly in his arms.

As they clung to one another for warmth, shivering and cursing and laughing as they waited for the water to heat up, Fury above, Haurchefant found himself blissfully free of doubts: he was loved, completely and truly, by this glorious, powerful, occasional mess of a woman — and, oh, there was not a single reason for him to doubt that their love would last.

Chapter Text

The Warrior of Light, her sore muscles soothed and relaxed from their hot shower (the freezing surprise she'd given them both before said hot shower notwithstanding), sighed deeply as she curled up against Haurchefant's warm chest under the blankets of his large, wonderfully comfortable bed. He hummed pleasantly, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, and she pulled him closer, looking up into his eyes.

"What is it, my love?" he asked softly, brushing a stray piece of hair out of her face.

She shook her head. "Oh no, it's nothing... I'm just glad to be here," she said with a smile, and the way his already affectionate gaze melted at her words made her heart stir. Yet her limbs felt heavy with fatigue from her day of hard work, not to mention the intense debauchery that had followed.

What they had done... what she had done to him, what she had driven him to do to her, was... gods, it had been exhilarating, consuming her completely. And then, as if he'd intended to reassure her that what they'd done did not change their relationship, his deepening love for her, afterwards he'd met her with tender kisses and words of affection, gentle and playful. And, feeling very much the same, she'd responded in kind.

They'd showered quickly, but afterwards he'd just stood there under the running water with her, his skilled hands kneading knots from her neck she wasn't aware were there.

"You're spoiling me, you realize?" she'd said playfully, letting out a sigh and then a groan as his hands moved down the slopes of her shoulders, soothing the aching muscles there. "How am I going to stomach rough nights on the road after this?"

"Mmm, how indeed," he'd chuckled, then pressed a gentle kiss to her neck, over the quickly fading bite marks they'd both had a look at in the mirror. She'd already teased him over it, though Twelve it had been hot in the moment. "The same way I will endure long days of work without you in my arms at the end of them, I suppose. But... come, tonight we are together, and Fury willing the next night too."

He'd turned off the tap and taken her hand, lacing his fingers in hers, then pulled her chin up for a tender kiss, their warmed bodies still dripping with water.

Oh... that had all but filled her with emotion, leaving a vivid memory, her heart longing for him even as they held each other close.

How was it that the more moments they spent together, the more new ways she felt for him, the more her heart moved for him?

After life as she'd known it had been irrevocably changed by the Calamity, she'd decided to become an adventurer, seeking out new horizons, new cultures, new experiences. Yet in all her years of considerably thrilling adventure, she'd not felt such a constant sense of wondrous discovery as she did with Haurchefant close by her side.

They'd toweled off and come to bed in nothing but their smalls, and now here they were, cuddled up under the heavy duvet, skin against wonderfully warm skin, her handsome Elezen lover looking at her with plain affection so deep she felt herself sink into it.

"I am so very glad to have you here," he all but whispered. "Truly."

Drawn to him again, she leaned up and captured his lips in a kiss - slow, long and tender, a wonderful, relaxing heat curling through her chest. His hand, so warm and large, came to cup her face as he met her with slow, delicate brushes of tongue, with azure eyes cracked barely open to watch her in the low firelight.

As their lips parted they both let out sighs, a wave of contented drowsiness washing over the Warrior. It was yet rather early, especially compared to the last two nights; but the day's strenuous efforts had finally caught up with her, it seemed.

"M'so tired," she murmured, and Haurchefant smiled in that lovely way that reached his eyes.

"You should be, after today," he said, smoothing his fingers over her forehead, then kissing her there. "...After tonight, too. You must needs replenish your strength after such feats of endurance, my heart," he added in a teasing rumble.

"You are right," she conceded easily, stroking a palm over the firm, plush contours of his chest, giving one of his pectorals a gentle, appreciative squeeze. His eyebrows quirked up in delight, and she let out another relaxing sigh and buried her head in the crook of his shoulder. "We should both get some proper rest tonight... miss training with you," she added, feeling her drowsiness begin to overtake her.

"I do too," she heard Haurchefant say, his voice lilting upwards as if he was touched by her words. "Pleasant dreams, then, my love," he said, circling his arms around her back and stroking her gently.

Sweet dreams, she thought to reply, but all that escaped her lips was a pleased, muffled hum as she succumbed to exhaustion and deep relaxation and fell fast asleep in Haurchefant's arms.

Haurchefant lay awake in his bed with the Warrior of Light fast asleep in his embrace, his heart feeling so utterly struck by this he could do naught but marvel at the sleeping form tucked into his arms.

This fierce, powerful warrior... the same woman who, less than a bell before, had held him down and ridden him relentlessly until he came so hard his mind yet reeled just thinking about it... was now sleeping peacefully, a gentle smile on her lips even as she slept, curled up against him for comfort.

How had he earned her love — her vulnerability, her earnest expressions of trust, conveyed like this, pure and irrefutable?

She was an easier sleeper than he, he thought, having drifted off after her each time they had shared his bed thus far. That she felt so safe in his home, lying in his arms... he softly caressed her cheek with his thumb, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face, and her eyelashes fluttered slightly, a slow breath puffing out of her nose.

Fury, he loved her. He loved her so much he didn't know what to do with himself. Though he knew it not pragmatic, he wanted to shout it from the rooftops. He loved the Warrior of Light, and she loved him — they had claimed each other both, and if Haurchefant were to have any one selfish wish of his granted, it would be... Well, it would be for her constant happiness, which he dearly hoped she would find by his side. But if he were to have any two selfish wishes made manifest, the second would be for their love to never fade. For him to — somehow, by the grace of Halone — be found worthy of the Warrior of Light wishing to fall asleep in his arms like this, contented and holding utter faith in him, night after night.

Once she entered Ishgard, things would become much more complicated, he knew — even pushing politics and necessary secrecy aside, the forces of duty and mission alone were bound to keep them apart for a time. Yet, holding her as she slept, inhaling deeply of her clean, newly familiar scent, his hopeful heart felt so full in his chest. He would cherish this, these moments with her; hold them close in the further storms that were surely to come. But, her warmth and comfort seeping into him, even his aching heart soon calmed, and Haurchefant finally succumbed to a deep, restful sleep.

The Warrior of Light awoke to a pressure weighing down on her chest, the air against her face cool but her body feeling incredibly warm. Blinking blearily in the still-darkness, she brought a hand up to take stock of her situation and... oh, she realized, eyes focusing on the dark shape above her, that she'd somehow turned onto her back in the night, and Haurchefant had half-draped himself over her, his cheek pressed to the top of her breast and his hand atop her pillow. She ran a hand over his back and he did not but stir, evidently still fast asleep.

She let out a soft laugh, sighing and threading her fingers into his hair, and that made him stir just a tiny bit, a warm breath puffing over her chest.

"Haurchefant," she whispered, and she felt his eyelashes flutter against her chest, a gentle sleepy hum reverberating into her. He rubbed his face against her breast, a sensation that certainly woke her up a bit more, then let out a slow, warm breath and apparently fell back sound asleep.

Oh. Gods, well, it was yet rather early; judging by the way the room was still dark, only lit dimly by the faint embers that yet remained in the hearth. And he looked so relaxed, his head nestled between her breasts, his long eyelashes catching some of the room's faint light, his mouth slightly open as he slept.

It was... unfamiliar, but not unwelcome, this feeling the Warrior felt, gently holding her sleeping lover in the early hours before dawn. He felt... precious to her, like something lovely she feared waking. It was strange; she'd sometimes shared a bed with her other short-lived lovers in the past, but she'd not felt this way for them when she'd awoken with their arms around her. Too much clingy, extended contact with others had often made her squirm and seek to take space.

But, though the large man draped over her did weigh on her and prompt her to slip her arms from the blanket to cool herself down a bit, the Warrior found she simply felt... at peace. Trusted. Loved.

As she stroked his hair, leaning into the feelings of soft fondness and clarity that beat steadily with her slow pulse, Haurchefant gradually began to stir, his eyelids slowly blinking open.

"Oh... oh," he breathed blearily, looking her over and taking in the position he'd found himself in. His cheeks warmed under her touch, and she met him with a slightly teasing smile. "Well. I seem to have found the most comfortable place in all the realm to rest, haven't I," he muttered, grinning with embarrassment as he lifted his head, stretching himself awake above her. "Did I wake you?"

She nodded, reaching up and tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. He followed the curve of her hand, letting her gently pull his face down into a kiss, soft and tender.

"My apologies... I would say, but you don't seem displeased," he murmured, gently stroking his broad hand across her collarbones.

"You were so comfortable, I couldn't bring myself to wake you," the Warrior laughed, and Haurchefant's lips parted slightly in surprise before widening into a warm smile.

"You mustn't indulge me so, my love," he said, then laid down on his side beside her, touching her shoulder to guide her into doing the same. He touched his nose to hers, then pressed a kiss at her cheek, then her jaw — a giddy, bubbling feeling began to spread through her. "I can already feel my hard-earned discipline melting away." His eyes flicked lower, parting from hers, and he pressed a kiss to her breast, then placed his lips around her nipple and gave it a soft suckle and curl of his tongue.

She gasped and made a sound of playful protest at the sudden sensation, clasping a hand over her own breast reflexively, then they both started to giggle — gods, what a way to wake up.

"Good morning to you too, Haurchefant," she half-huffed, and he cupped his hand against her neck, smiling up at her.

"Exactly why you shouldn't indulge me," he said with a grin. "Where are my manners?"

"Left in the other room before the hearth with all your other discarded things, I'd wager," she teased, and he pulled her down off her pillows for another kiss that left her pulse thrumming and her searching his teasing eyes as their soft breaths overlapped.

"Good morning," Haurchefant said finally, calling her by name. "It is... yet quite early, did you sleep well?"

"I did," she answered, stretching beside him. "Very well, in fact. Though I think my body could use a bit of a warmup," she said, and he grinned and brought his lips to her neck. "Oh," she breathed, heat rising to her cheeks, "not that kind of warmup..."

Haurchefant laid three gentle kisses to her neck, humming with a sound of amusement as she moved against his touch, and, goodness, they'd thrown off most of the blankets but she still felt so warm beneath his lips, shivers of pleasure echoing down her spine.

"Whichever you prefer," he said lightly, raising his head and meeting her with a smile before stretching out as well, then flicking on an oil lamp on his nightstand and rising to his feet. Gods, he looked terribly handsome, standing there in the low light wearing nothing but his smalls, the light catching the divot in his lower back, the musculature of his thighs... he smirked as he turned around, evidently noticing her staring.

"Training then, hmm? I daresay we should have plenty of time for it at this hour. Unless you wish me to return to bed... you do seem rather flushed," he suggested, his eyes moving across her half-exposed body as well.

"You are impossible," she laughed, pulling herself out of bed as well. "I would say we've stayed in late enough these past days... Let's get some actual training in, shall we?"

"Little would please me more," he agreed, beaming at her so brightly that she wondered how he could possibly be like this so soon after waking. "Let us go and get started, then."

Walking ahead of him into the training room as if the space was as much hers as his, the Warrior of Light, clad in her usual training clothes — light trousers and a sleeveless undershirt that revealed her well-built arms — took her usual place on the mats, starting their daily stretches. Haurchefant quickly joined her, following suit, the two of them falling into sync automatically, the motions long routine by now.

Fury but it was nice to be here again with her; to see her comfortably using his space without hesitation. And — oh, he groaned softly after a particularly satisfying stretch — after yesterday's events and a few days of neglecting his training, he surely needed a thorough warmup himself.

"Mm, I think I could stand to be put through my paces," he said, glancing at her over his shoulder as he stretched his neck and waist. The Warrior met him with a spark of interest as they moved into their last set of stretches. "This lapse in my training and the strain of yesterday's battle seem to have stiffened me up somewhat."

"Yes... I'm noticing much the same," she agreed, bending forward to reach her feet with more effort than he usually observed it taking her. "Well..." she sighed as they both rose to their feet, feeling a little more limber after their stretches. "I'll follow your lead, Haurchefant. I promise to do my best to keep you on your toes."

She met him with a smirk, and he grinned back at her, clenching his fist with excitement. Oh yes, he had missed this.

"Splendid! Let us begin," he said, his pulse beginning to speed up in anticipation, then set to work.

As Haurchefant ran them through their usual exercises, the Warrior of Light felt — gods — unbelievably energized, even as she exhausted herself. Ever in sync with one another, they did pushups until they fell to the floor panting, spotted each other lifting weights, did squats until her legs all but screamed to her that she was alive. Now they faced one another, doing sets of crunches, and the spark of challenge glinting in his eyes as they met hers spurred her on, had her flashing a grin and meeting his every motion, determined not to slow down or fall back.

The heat of challenge within her was perhaps stoked even further by the fact that her training partner had stripped himself of his undershirt partway through their exercises.

Haurchefant's bare body was artwork in motion; every ilm sculpted beautifully, every muscle working in concert. Droplets of sweat trickled down his long, muscular neck as he met her motion for motion, his core straining with every crunch, and Twelve if it was not incredibly distracting.

It was not helping matters that, now that they were no longer simply friends, Haurchefant did not hide his admiring gaze or bid his eyes not to wander — they followed her body, too, openly appreciative of what they saw. Her shirt rode up her waist as their speed increased, exposing her bare abdominal muscles, and she saw his eyes widen and lid with hunger before he smiled most approvingly.

This was... this was supposed to be training... and though it most surely was, her pulse beating firmly with exertion and the exhilarating adrenaline high of pushing herself past her limits yet again, gods the way he grinned at her as she picked up the pace and spurred him on to speed up himself to match her...

Well. This wasn't the same old daily workout that she'd missed, exactly. This was something new, laced with some exciting tension that could only exist between two warriors at their personal peaks who knew each others' bodies most intimately.

Their sets complete, they both collapsed backwards, panting on the ground across from one another for a few moments until she noticed Haurchefant rise to his feet, coming to stand above her. He looked down at her with a pleased glint in his eye, then extended a hand to help pull her up. She took it, finding herself on her feet near-effortlessly thanks to his strength.

"Excellent work," he praised, running a hand through his sweat-streaked hair, eyes still taking in her form. "Despite our slow start, 'tis now as though we hadn't missed a day."

"Mmm," the Warrior agreed, her eyes trailing up Haurchefant's bare chest despite herself. Beads of sweat had trickled down parts of his chest, the closed-off room having become rather heated from their exercise, and she could smell their exertion in the air... a light scent of clean sweat clung to him appealingly. "You always seem to know just how hard to work me... just enough to get me riled up enough to challenge you further," she said with a grin, meeting his gaze. She saw something flicker there.

"The challenge was most welcome," he answered in a rumble, then brought a hand to his lips in consideration. "Though I don't know about you but I'm parched — shall I fetch us some water?"

"Oh, please," she answered most sincerely, suddenly realizing how thirsty she was. She fell down into her usual chair at the small table they ordinarily rested at until the breakfast bell, watching him walk over to the sink and grab two cups and a pitcher, filling the latter from the tap.

Gods, just the simple way he walked... his narrow hips practically sauntering over, the scarred musculature of his broad bare back fully on display... he certainly moved with a bit of confident pride this morning, didn't he? It was enough to make her recall the wild things they'd done last night, the way those hips had bucked up against her palms with all their might, the way she'd held him down until the very end.

She'd apparently been so lost in staring at him that she hadn't realized he'd finished his task and crossed the distance to her, looking down at her with a curious smirk.

Without saying a word, he handed her a tall glass of water, which she took gratefully, gulping it down thirstily in large sips.

Haurchefant, however... Haurchefant sat across from her, his seated stance wide and leaning back into his chair as if exhausted; and then, looking the Warrior straight in the eye, he began to drink.

His thirst plainly outpaced his body's ability to contain his drink; water dripped down his chin, long neck and chest in trickles and rivulets, one drop reaching far enough to cascade over his abdominal muscles and pool in his navel. Watching this, she could not help but bite her lip, a heat coiling in her belly.

Erotic as it was, she almost wanted to laugh — was this a deliberate show for her? Yet, gods, if it was it was certainly working, bringing to mind images of his face drenched with her last night, how gladly he'd let her ride his face to her peak again and again — how was it that anyone filled her with such bottomless desire?

"I see your mind has wandered from our training," Haurchefant remarked, wiping the drips from his chin with the back of his hand. She flushed as her eyes shot up to his — they glimmered deviously, watching her closely, seeming pleased. Indeed, he was nearly grinning as he looked at her, and as he shifted his weight to set his glass upon the table, her eyes were drawn downwards yet again, to notice a rather clear sign of apparent arousal pressed tight within his trousers. "Are you still thirsty, perhaps?" he asked, placing his hand upon the handle of the still half-full pitcher.

"...Yes," she answered, her mouth already feeling dry once more. Haurchefant let out a curious hum before reaching across the table and taking her glass, then filling it rather full.

"Then, please, my friend — let me assist," the Elezen nearly purred, not handing her the glass but instead rising to his feet. She furrowed her brow, confused, and almost stood herself — but he quickly crossed the short distance, bending down carefully and taking her chin in a gentle hand, tilting it up to look at him. Her heart pounded as she realized suddenly what he was about to do, and she let out a soft gasp, her lips parting — only to find the cool rim of the glass pressed to her lips. "Drink carefully, now," he said softly, his voice a low rumble so close by. "You wouldn't want to make a mess."

The Warrior thought to make a witty retort, but the next moment his large hand tilted her head further back, beginning to slowly pour cool water between her parted lips. She drank it down, her head feeling uncommonly hot — gods, who would think to do such a thing? His half-lidded eyes stared straight into hers, his own lips parting into a breathless look, and as she pressed her mouth shut, needing to breathe, he immediately leveled the glass, ceasing the flow of water and letting her pant a breath.

Haurchefant smiled, gently rubbing a stray droplet off her lower lip with his thumb, and — Twelve, why was her heart pounding so?

"Would you like more?" he nearly whispered, tracing his thumb feather-light across the sensitive skin below her lip. She nodded, her body feeling somehow hotter even now that the glass of cold water was half-empty, and he tilted her head back once more, his touch measured and gentle, taking the most careful of control.

Though she was in truth no longer thirsty, she gladly drank, but her head swam with arousal. Lost in the heat she found reflected in Haurchefant's eyes, she felt herself gasp and shudder, causing the last of the water to overflow against her lips and spill everywhere — over her chin and throat, running down under her shirt between her breasts. Haurchefant's eyes flashed in alarm and then what looked like utter hunger, and he quickly set the glass aside on the tabletop, falling to his knees before her.

"Oh dear," he choked out, "that won't do... drinking water is a valuable resource," he said, before taking her by the shoulders and pressing his lips to her chin, gently sucking up the water that remained there.

"H-Haurche—" she gasped, bringing her hand to his ear, making him hiss out a breath against her skin.

"We mustn't let it go to waste," he said in a low rumble, before tilting her chin up again and licking a stripe down her neck, down the tender, sensitive contours where the water had flowed.

A sudden, intense heat burned straight down to the Warrior's core at this, and she could not help but let out a moan, fisting her hand tightly in Haurchefant's hair, her thumb curled around his ear. He groaned, his teeth scraping lightly against her neck, but kept going, following the path that the water had taken, lapping up the moisture that still clung to her collarbones with a ravenous tongue.

He met her eyes for but a moment, burning hot against hers. In a swift motion he pulled her sleeveless shirt up, bunching it up above her bound breasts — she could tell all too well what he meant to do and let go of him simply to pull her shirt up and over her head, casting it aside. Haurchefant's hands clutched at her back, drawing her close and arching her chest backwards, and, inhaling deeply against her skin, he followed the trail of water downwards.

Haurchefant drank the spilled water that yet clung to the Warrior's body with a ravenous thirst, his pulse pounding with desire. Fury, despite how hard of a workout she'd given him she was now all but putty in his hands, and that in and of itself was thrilling enough. But, oh... the sweat of her body mingled with the dripping water, the scent and taste of her skin and her effort filling him as he delved deeper, pulling down her chest bindings to lap at the water pooled between her breasts...

Oh Halone, he'd wanted this. All those weeks, every morning spent training together in this stuffy, poorly-ventilated room, breathing in her scent, watching the sweat drip down her face and neck, wishing desperately and wholly inappropriately to bury himself in it. He'd thought himself a weak man then, and had done his best to banish such traitorous thoughts, for his dear friend deserved naught but the utmost respect.

Yet now... now they were lovers and comrades-in-arms both, and she had shown plain desire for him beyond his wildest dreams. And, Fury, how she writhed and trembled in his arms as he lapped every last bit of the spilled water from her body, the point of his tongue working into the creases underneath her breasts, where he tasted her so strongly it nearly drove him mad — light and tangy salt and skin, every bit as ambrosial as he'd imagined.

Once he'd drank every spilt drop he lifted his head to look at her, only to find her looking at him with a hand loosely splayed over her mouth, an expression of wide-eyed, heated surprise on her features. Her skin was covered in fading red splotches, marking the path his mouth had traveled.

"Forgive me," he panted, nuzzling his nose against the top of her breast. "I could not... could not help myself. To... to taste of your skin, as the sweat yet clings to your hard-worked body..."

"Fuck," the Warrior cursed in nearly a whine, her fingers coming up to cover her eyes, before she braced her hand against the back of the chair and gave him a look that was just as intense and pointed as the sudden vulgar word he thrilled in hearing her use. "How do you— How do I... I, I mean, that was..."

Her eyes swam with overwhelmed desire, and noticing her rather obvious difficulty in gathering her thoughts Haurchefant sucked a gentle kiss at the top of her breast, meeting her with a hazy smile.

"Yes, my love?" he tried to hum patiently, although inside he felt anything but — his desire gnawed at him, a mounting hunger that was yet anything but sated. His hands gripped harder at her back despite himself. Fury, before her now he was nearly more beast than man, he felt, all of his patience expended last night, and as her hand came to stroke through his hair his legs tensed hard to hold himself back —

"You want to taste more, don't you," she said, more statement than question, and Haurchefant groaned, breath hot against her bared skin, his teeth scraping against her breast and making her squirm in his arms.

"I do," he almost moaned in answer.

"Then what are you waiting for," she challenged, looking down at him, fire in her eyes — and Fury he could hold back no longer, lifting the Warrior up into his arms, her hands clutching at him for a brief moment before he deposited her atop the large mat they'd been exercising on until now, scrambling on top of her on his hands and knees.

He kissed her hard and deep, and though she was sprawled haphazardly on her back beneath him she grabbed at his neck with one hand, her short nails digging into tender skin and making the heat surge within him. She met him with tongue and teeth, her body arching up to meet his — his hands wandered over her body, grabbing roughly at her lovely soft breasts, at the firm muscle of her waist — she whined, then, breaking the kiss, and as his eyes locked with hers, finding them fervent and wanting, it was all he could do to bury his lips at her neck, licking up the taste of her right below her ear, inhaling her intoxicating scent. She hissed and writhed beneath him, throwing her head back, as if nearly as impatient as he was.

"You are..." Haurchefant panted, licking a hot trail down her body, his tongue curving down the top of her breast and then flicking over her nipple, causing her to gasp. "Utterly splendid," he uttered with a feeling of erotic worship, meeting her gaze and finding her breathless. His hands came to rest at her hips. "Every heated ilm of your hard-wrought warrior's body, divine beneath my tongue," he groaned, dipping his tongue down the long line of her belly, tracing between her abdominal muscles... so delicious, she was, heat pulsing hard beneath his trousers at the mere taste of her. "I simply can't get enough."

Their eyes met for a second, hot and heady, before Haurchefant pulled down her trousers, smalls and all. Fury, a trickle of wetness already dripped down her inner thigh, and... oh, he couldn't even restrain himself long enough to pull her pants off all the way before he found her legs hooked over his shoulders and his face buried in her, tongue delving into the crease between sex and thigh. He breathed deeply, groaning against her... last night she'd tasted incredible but this morning she was even more intoxicating still, damp with sweat and with the faint scent of him now clinging to her. He lapped up the streak of slick at her thigh, causing her to shudder, letting out a moan through his nose as he savored her scent and taste.

Haurchefant drank of her like a man bewitched, breathing deep, ragged breaths and licking at her thigh with a tongue that seemed determined to collect every spilled drop of her sweat and arousal — gods, how did he want her like this so badly, so soon after last night? She might have felt embarrassed about being hot and sticky from their strenuous exercise, if not for the fully ravenous hunger displayed clearly on his face. He nuzzled at her clit with his nose before tonguing at her entrance, his breath panting hot against her — she whined and squirmed beneath him, her legs spreading wide as they could, bound at the ankles by her trousers as they yet were.

"Gods, you're... you're insatiable," the Warrior panted, gasping as he curled his tongue around her clit, sucking hard at it for a lingering moment, a shock of intense sensation shooting through her and making her moan. It was nearly overstimulating, what with how long he'd gone at it just last night — but he lifted his head and panted against her, his eyes dark with desire. She noticed that at some point he must have reached down and unbuttoned his own trousers, for she could tell by his motion that he was palming himself as he tasted her. This only made her ache even more, but at this angle his broad shoulders and her own body blocked her vision.

"I believe I promised to train you, my love," Haurchefant said, his breathing harsh. His lips came to her inner thigh, sucking hard, his eyes pressing shut for a moment as he — she could feel the motion — stroked a hand down his length, long and deliberate. "To take you every night until your body opens up for me beautifully with a single stroke," he said, his hands squeezing at the backs of her thighs. "Do you remember?"

The Warrior gasped in a breath — yes, he... he had said this the night before last in the heat of their passion; she had asked him to do so, in fact... Her face somehow grew impossibly hotter at this, her legs squirming with the heat that rushed down between her thighs at the recollection.

"You do," he said then, a low rumble through a hazy grin, his breath tickling over her core... she nodded, feeling almost desperate. "Then — there is yet time — might you have it in you to accept my instruction? Last night you so splendidly took the reins, yet... now that we've warmed up and I've gotten a taste of you, I find I am already dying to begin our lessons," he added in a groan, palming himself with a shudder.

The Warrior nodded again, wishing so badly she could see him taking himself in hand, but wanting even more to see her lover make good on his promise. "Please, ser," she breathed, "work me hard."

He met her eyes with a sudden heat that made her body ache with hunger. Oh, what she could do to him with an unexpected word or two had never failed to satisfy. "...As you wish."

Haurchefant lifted her legs off of his shoulders, pulled her bottoms off from where they'd bunched up around her feet, and hooked an arm around her waist and flipped her with a powerful, effortless grace. She landed on her stomach, cheek pressed against the mat as she looked back at him — his reddened cock curved up hard from the open fly of his trousers, slick and wet with himself; his face was just as flushed with smug desire.

The Warrior grinned back at him, her heart pounding, thrilled by his show of force. He stroked himself, his length looking intimidating even gripped in his large hand.

"On your knees," he said, his voice gently issuing an order, though an appreciative smile upon his face made it clear to her that she was not required to play along — but, a dangerous thrill running down her spine at his words, she simply nodded and did as she was told, bent on her knees while her folded arms rested on the mat.

She was horribly exposed like this, a shiver of vulnerability working through her, but the look of utter hunger on the knight's face spurred her on — she swayed her hips gently back and forth, spreading her knees slightly, giving him a show.

"Mm... like this, ser?"

As a response she heard Haurchefant draw in a heavy breath, then his large hands came to squeeze so tightly at her arse that it made her arch her back and whine, the tips of his thumbs digging into her soft cunt and shocking her with sudden pressure as they began to spread her open.

"Oh, yes..." she heard him groan, his hands releasing her only for the briefest of moments before — with a shuddering gasp spilling from her lips — two thick fingers pushed into her with shocking ease. "Already so wet for me, my love... splendid... By the Fury, I want naught more than to bury myself to the hilt within you this very instant," he said, a growl to his voice that had her breath skipping, her body aching with hunger. He heard a pause in his breath, and his fingers pushed deeper, making her spread her legs wider for him and moan — gods, this man —

"I want you to," the Warrior panted, "I think... I think I can take it."

She then whined as his strong fingers curled within her, a thumb coming to her entrance to stretch her even further, the sensation utterly torturous.

"Can you now?" Haurchefant teased, his voice low. He slipped a third finger inside her, spreading them wide within her, coaxing her open. She cried out, her head spinning, her body still aching for more. "Oh Fury, look at that... mayhap you can."

His voice was nearly a groan, and when two of his long fingers came to stroke gently at her clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure and further need to her core, she couldn't help but tense and tremble, pressing her eyes shut, soft whines escaping her lips.

"So good for me, my love..." she heard him whisper, his breath puffing over her back — her eyes snapped open in a start, his words making her feel outright desperate for him. He bent his whole body over her now, massive and broad above her, caging her in against the ground...

"Oh, fuck," she whined, the both of them hissing in pleasure as he rubbed his thick head up and down against her slit, drenching him in her arousal and making her whole body tense with fevered anticipation.

"If you insist," Haurchefant replied, a grin to his voice — and then he pressed against her entrance, his large hands gripping her arse and hips to hold her steady as he began to push in — and all else was thrown from her mind entirely.

The Warrior of Light was... oh, Fury, it didn't matter how often they did this, Haurchefant knew he would never be accustomed to just how singularly splendid it was to take her. Her small frame knelt beneath him, her strong legs spread wide in salacious invitation, and, Halone's grace, her slick, delicious little cunt still gripped him like a vice even though his hands had prepared her.

"Y-yes—" she moaned beneath him, her voice trailing off into a whine as his thick head breached her tight entrance, and—

"Oh," he crooned her name with a tone of wonder, leaning up and gripping her hips in both his hands to hold himself steady, to keep his entrance measured. "Oh, yes, my love, that's just it... relax for me now, take me deeper—"

The Warrior whined incoherently, her head buried in her arms, but the way she nodded desperately — and the way he felt her tight grip around him soften ever so slightly at his urging, allowing him to press in that much more, had Haurchefant damn near losing his mind.

She trembled beneath him, her thighs shaking, moaning with clear pleasure as he continued to relentlessly push forward, not pulling out at all this time, simply slowing his pace to a glacial crawl when he met resistance and then giving a gentle press in further when it abated. It felt like an eternity, levin coursing through him up from where he slowly filled her, gasping encouragements.

"That's it... Fury, you're doing it my love, I think you may just take all of me—"

The way she shook as he filled her, whining beneath him, her body yet dripping with sweat... "All of you?" she whined, her tone disbelieving. "I... I didn't even come yet, and I..."

With a last torturous push, Haurchefant finally bottomed out inside her. He threw his head back and bit his lip around a groan, the feel of her around him overwhelming. She let out a whimper of helpless pleasure that made him throb inside her, before looking back at him, her eyes wide and blown out with lust.

"Oh... oh gods, Haurchefant..."

"My love... how quickly you take to our lessons," he said, meeting her with a breathy grin, bending over her once more. Her small back curved up to press against his chest, as if her skin craved contact, and he could not help but coil an arm around her body, grabbing at her breast and holding her close. His body urged him to move, to rut into her, to make her scream with pleasure for him... but he did not, instead simply pressing himself as deeply inside of her as he could and reveling in the feeling of it, waiting for her to relax around him and laying a sucking kiss to the side of her neck. "How are you feeling? Still want me to 'work you hard'? If it's too much..."

The Warrior groaned wordlessly, her hips shifting against him slightly as if trying to settle into the sensation. It felt divine, her walls fluttering gently around him, a little hum of overwhelmed pleasure escaping her nose as she did so. "Mnnngh," she mumbled, throwing her head back against his shoulder, her eyes hazy and nearly shut.

"Too much, then?" he sighed, smiling affectionately and trailing his hand down between her thighs. Fury, it was torture staying still like this, but to harm his beloved even in the slightest simply would not do. His fingers brushed lightly against her swollen clit and she trembled, her eyes blinking open wide, hot breath puffing against his cheek. "I can... make it easier for you then... if you'd allow me."

The Warrior nodded. "Please," she breathed, and the way she tensed and clamped down onto him as his fingers worked a tight circle around her apex... Haurchefant hissed in a breath, clenching his thighs like iron to force himself to stay still. "You feel... so good," she gasped, writhing in his arms as he continued to pleasure her with his hand, and he sunk his teeth into his shoulder to stop himself from following the intoxicating motions of her around him. "Oh, fuck, Twelve above, Haurchefant, take me—"

His hips stuttered out and into her of their own accord at this, only by maybe a mere ilm, and they both moaned at the sudden sensation —

"Fury you do not know how badly I wish to do so immediately," he nearly growled, shuddering into her neck. "But if I would harm you—"

"You couldn't," she moaned, hips tilting softly against his fingers, a plush, exquisite torture around his straining cock. "And even if you could, I told you I could take it," she panted, pressing back against him, pushing him in so deep he swore he saw stars. "So... so please... don't hold back," she hissed. "Make me yours the way I know you've wanted to since the very first time you pinned me here—"

There was nothing — absolutely nothing — Haurchefant could do anymore besides exactly what she so wonderfully demanded of him.

Haurchefant had her pinned to the mat beneath him, the scent of their sweat and effort in the air around them, his generous length pressed so deep inside her it made her head spin, and — as the Warrior cried out — he pulled out of her, suddenly flipping her onto her back again.

"Have to... see," he panted, his voice a low growl, "what I do to you."

Still on his knees, he lifted her by the arse with one hand as if she weighed nothing. Her legs fell open around his hips, and he aligned them again and... oh, oh...!

Haurchefant pressed in hard this time, his thick cock pushing against all the right spots inside her and then some, and she was moaning helplessly beneath him, hands clutching fruitlessly at the mat. Sparks danced at the edges of her vision as his thumb came to rub roughly at her clit, sending sharp pleasure up her spine and down her thighs, making her spread her legs even wider around him—

A wanton grin spread across Haurchefant's face, sweat dripping down from his temples... oh, gods, what had she asked for, she wondered, looking at the utterly ravenous man above her, around her, inside her, his broad hand playing her body like an instrument.

"Please," she whined, feeling utterly desperate, "Haurchefant, please..."

"Patience, my heart," he panted, pulling out slowly and pressing in again with a forceful thrust, her cunt gripping tight around him, a moan spilling forth out of her own control. "First, I am going to make you come for me, until you lie trembling with pleasure in my arms. And then," he said, bending in as he punctuated his speech with a deep grind, eyes lidded, breath hot against her skin, "I am going to take you again and again, my love, until either my body gives out or you beg me for mercy." He paused, a flicker of amusement passing across his face. "...Or until the breakfast bell rings, perhaps."

His azure eyes were dark with need, and that look on his face... it made her nod and bite her lip with hunger, which he answered with a breathless smile. "Splendid... just..." he groaned as he began to make short, deep thrusts inside her, watching her writhe beneath him, "you're just perfect..."

He was so big, stuffing her so wonderfully full and achingly stretched that she wasn't sure if she'd ever get used to it. His fingers worked at her relentlessly, his pace steady and firm but not punishing, making her tremble with unbearable pleasure, and she found a long stream of moans, whines and curses falling from her lips. He cursed too, uttering blasphemies to the Fury between groans and praises, and she found herself utterly at his mercy, her head falling back against the mat, her body writhing with building pleasure.

"Fury, you feel so good," he hissed as he slid slowly inside her again, her legs trembling around him. "You're shaking, my love," he said with a grin, his hair a wonderful mess. "Won't you let go and come for me?"

His grip at her hips changed, his next thrust kissing that wonderful spot deep inside her with just a touch more force, and the heady rush of animalistic heat that surged through her veins at this — oh, gods, despite the pleasure searing through her it wasn't enough, she wanted him to, to—

She nodded, whining incoherently, hips tilting into his touch, chasing his fingers, until she finally found her words. "Fuck me harder, please, be a little rough with me, I'll come for you I promise—"

Haurchefant hissed in a breath above her, his eyes blown dark. "Fury grant me strength," he swore, before pressing her backwards and nearly bending her in half, her legs around his shoulders. His nose brushed against hers, his eyes boring searing holes into her own. "Keep begging me like that and I fear I will never stop," he breathed, then pulled back and pounded into her so hard and deep it tore the breath from her, sending a ripple of desperate, animalistic pleasure up and out her throat in an arcing moan.

"Yes, yes, oh gods yes—" she babbled, and his lips came to her throat, sucking dark marks into her skin as he split her open at an increasingly frantic pace, spurred on by her cries. She was only dimly aware of her nails digging into his broad back. "Don't— oh, gods pleasepleaseplease don't ever stop—"

Haurchefant groaned and panted above her, biting and licking at her ear as his hips slammed relentlessly into her, stretching her so deep and raw she could hardly think — pleasure scorched through her as he continued to stroke at her apex even as he plowed into her, making her dizzy and desperate—

"My beautiful," he panted between thrusts, "exquisite, shameless seductress of a woman," he said with a nearly feral growl to his voice that sent a wonderful, needy shiver down her spine. "You... you just need to be filled with me nearly every hour of the day, don't you? To be utterly ravaged by me and left dripping with my spend?"

The Warrior couldn't help but simply whine and nod fervently. "Yes," she cried, trembling as his hips slammed into her harder at this admission, the look on his face so full of raw, possessive desire it made her feel weak and so, so wanted. "Yes, please, make a mess of me, do anything you want, anything—"

His open mouth came to hers, his eyes still looking straight into hers with awed, overwhelming desire as he gave her a bruising kiss, his mouth ravenous and devouring, his tongue curling around her muffled moans—

And... and, Twelve take her, it was all so much she couldn't help but nearly scream into his mouth, her body convulsing and held tight in his arms as he continued to piston steadily deep within her, taking her so well even as her whole body burst into flames of pleasure, pulsing so tight around him as she came—

Haurchefant, true to his word, did not stop even when she came; instead his hands came to grip either side of her face, tilting it back and sucking wonderful, torturous kisses and nips at the tender flesh of her neck, his plunging length invading her senses so wholly and relentlessly that she couldn't tell if she'd ever stopped coming at all.

"Fury, you come for me so beautifully," he hissed, nipping at her lower lip, staring her straight in the eye. "I can't — still can't believe you're mine," he groaned, burying his face in her neck and pressing in so hard all she could do was arch her back helplessly and whine, fully overtaken by him.

"I am," she managed to gasp out, her body bouncing against the mat as he fucked her, her hands coming up to hold his head and grip his ears. Stars sparked behind her vision, her body aflame. "Oh, Haurchefant, ahh, ah—!"

The Warrior of Light came around him a second time without him even trying, calling his name as she did, her nails digging into the base of his sensitive ears, and Haurchefant felt something come loose inside himself.

She—she was beautiful, she was precious, she was everything— and she was the rightful devourer of his body who needed to be filled, to be marked as his. To, as she slayed her next dragon, feel the ghost of him yet inside her in her every movement—

The thoughts were blasphemous, possessive, borderline insane — yet in this feverish state, their bodies frantically melding together on his training room floor, the taste of her sweat on his tongue, her nails digging into his ears and sending fire all the way down to where she still pulsed excruciating tremors around him — he held no more control. He could do nothing but give in to them, to give her everything he knew she deserved.

His teeth sinking into her neck, a glorious cry coming from her lips, heat coiled and twisted impossibly hot in Haurchefant's belly as he came and came and came, fucking his come deeper inside her as he did, gradually slowing to a deep grind, shuddering with overwhelming pleasure above her, wracked with unexpected aftershocks.

By the way she whined and mewled and clung to him all the while, her eyes meeting his with desperate affection, he could tell that she'd felt him fill her. That she'd wanted it — oh, Halone have mercy, she looked at him with such wanton love, even in this debauched state, that he had to press his eyes shut for a moment to gather himself.

When he opened them, he saw his lover panting beneath him, her hair a mess, sweat dripping from her brow. She looked to be in a state of utter euphoria, disheveled as she was, and though his body felt wholly spent already, he knew the image of her like this would dance across his eyelids and fuel his fantasies for many days to come.

Her lips came to his, giving him a tender, languid kiss — her tongue slipped against his, her fingertips stroking gently at his ear, and it sent a shiver of somehow yet deeper feelings for her through him. As their lips parted, the eyes that met his yet glowed with the embers of their lust, but were so clearly vulnerable and affectionate and intimate that the contrast between what she'd just begged him to do and how they felt for one another set his mind and heart both spinning.

"Hah... I think I'm going to be feeling that," she laughed breathily, then brought a hand to his cheek and smiled softly when apparent concern flashed across his face. "Don't worry, my love. That's what I wanted," she added almost shyly.

"Halone have mercy on a man," Haurchefant swore, dropping more of his weight atop her, cupping her hand in his and pressing a kiss to the meat of her thumb. She shifted beneath him, relaxing into the added pressure with a sigh. "You make me wish I still had more to give you."

In the heat of the moment, he'd promised to take her again and again, but it seemed the frequency with which they'd been consummating their desires had finally caught up with him — he could feel himself softening inside her, a bone-deep satisfaction seeping through his veins.

And... and, Fury, hearing her call him her love like that in this heated afterglow...

"Oh? Have I drained you at last? A thousand pardons, good ser," she quipped, her eyes twinkling with mirth. He grinned back at her, chuckling delightedly, then leaned in and brushed his nose against hers. "It's for the best," she assured him, a hand stroking at his back. "I was hoping to be of service to your camp again today, not lying idly upon my bed the entire afternoon."

"Mmm," he hummed, threading his hands up through her hair, pressing a soft kiss to one of the dark marks he'd left along her neck. She tilted into his kiss, letting out a contented sigh. "I would gladly lend my quarters to your continued leisure, but I know your virtuous heart would not allow it."

The Warrior laughed, rolling her eyes softly. "No... though, that you would extol my virtue when you have me like this..."

Haurchefant lifted himself up on his arms, gazing down at her. As he did, he felt himself slip out of her, and he backed onto his knees, watching his lover push herself up onto her elbows, still a little breathless.

The sight of her like this, of the Warrior of Light's heroic figure laid flushed and ravished beneath him, of his own thick come dripping out from her and pooling between her legs, it... his breath caught, his chest aching with feelings far larger than himself.

I'm going to have to give these mats a good scrubbing later, aren't I, was the only thought his love-drunk mind could put into a coherent sentence, though it was by far the least important.

"Haurchefant?" came the Warrior's voice, her thighs pressing together almost shyly as she watched him, and he felt himself flushing despite the state they were both in.

"Forgive me, my love, the sight of you simply took my breath away," he offered, bending down and pressing a kiss to her cheek. She playfully smacked at his bare chest, and then, as if suddenly realizing where her hand was, groped at his pecs appreciatively and kissed him lightly. His heart fluttered with pure affection.

Oh, she was so endearing, he could spend days simply enjoying her company — but duty pressed ever closer; he was certain the bell for their morning meal would ring any minute now.

"We made a mess," she said sheepishly as their lips parted. "Do you think we have time before breakfast to clean up?"

"Perhaps, if we hurry... and don't mind being fashionably late," Haurchefant sighed, offering his hand to help pull her to her feet.

The Warrior frowned, but took his hand anyway, letting him take her weight briefly as she righted herself. "Is that a thing in Ishgard?"

"If we were attending a ball, undoubtedly. But other than that... oh," he murmured, lightly touching a bite mark he'd left at her neck. "Did I go too far — does that hurt, I mean, I—"

"I did say you could do anything you wanted," she teased with a shrug. "And it was really..." she trailed off, biting her lip. "I liked it," she said finally, with a sly smile. Flickering embers danced in Haurchefant's stomach. "Anyway, I need a towel, or we're going to have an even worse mess on our hands."

"Of course," he answered quickly, rushing to grab some clean towels and help her clean up.

They were both nearly dressed by the time the bell rang, Haurchefant fastening his gauntlets and the Warrior still getting her haubergeon on over her head. By the time she'd popped her head through the neckline of her chainmail and pulled her hood down, he'd crossed the distance between them, cupping her cheek with his gloved palm.

"Though it pains me to do so, I'll go on ahead so that the others won't talk so much," he said, smiling longingly at her. The incredible warmth in his chest did not die down, especially not as she looked back up at him like that, with a trusting, intimate fondness. "I love you," he murmured, voicing her name before pressing his lips to hers, soft and lingering.

"I love you too," she breathed as they parted, then left a quick peck on his cheek, as if she couldn't stand for him to leave without getting another kiss. "Don't pain yourself too much, I'll be right behind you," she added with a teasing smile, waving at him with bare fingers as he gathered his sword and shield and made to leave.

Oh, how had he come to live in such a wonderful dream? He expected nearly as much work to handle today as he'd had yesterday, and he was certain that Tataru, the perceptive little woman that she was, would be giving them some unbearably knowing looks at mealtimes no matter what they had or hadn't done before arriving — but such trivialities merely glinted off the gleaming armor of his bliss, hardly even noticed.

He heard a happy little sigh come from behind the door after he'd closed it behind him, and, well. How was he supposed to focus at work, hearing that?

With a wandering swagger to his step, Haurchefant made his way to the dining hall, his thoughts yet full of the woman he loved.

Chapter Text

It was snowing again as the Warrior of Light returned that evening, exhausted and sore from a day of nothing but heavy labor, and yet she struggled not to wear a grin as she made her way back to camp on borrowed chocobo back.

There were countless things she could feel terrible about still — many things she did yet anguish over. She was a fugitive, and if it wasn't for Lord Haurchefant's staunch refusal to entertain Ul'dahn emissaries' requests to search the area, she and her remaining companions would be behind bars or, quite likely, far worse. Several of her friends and allies were still missing, and it was easy to presume the worst — nearly the only balance against this the fact that there had been no word of their bodies turning up anywhere. Yet their betrayers had been cunning and merciless in their coup against the Sultana — surely disappearing a few corpses was not out of their power, and the Warrior knew this.

In her early days at Camp Dragonhead, these worries had consumed her for many hours each day. No matter how she'd tried to make herself useful and keep busy, no amount of work seemed to keep her fears at bay. But since she'd begun to train with Haurchefant each day, she had found meaning. Purpose. And more than that, she'd found a man whose simple presence by her side made all seem bright, and even her worst burdens somehow bearable. No, even when they were apart, simply thinking of Haurchefant's full-hearted support of her lightened her load immensely.

And... and in her most recent days, she had learned that this bond they had come to share, beyond that of any friend or lover she'd known... it was love. Somehow, in her darkest days, in the last bastion willing to shelter her, she'd found love beyond her wildest imaginings. And if... if such a miracle could occur, who was to say that all they'd thought lost was truly lost?

Hope had reawoken within her, bright and determined, a lingering warmth within her chest. It had carried her through the day, as she'd helped load densely packed snow onto chocobo carriages to help clear the paths to Ishgard, the same grueling work as she'd done yesterday evening. It had been with her as she'd floated through her morning meal with the Scions, weightless and spent and unfathomably satisfied, attempting probably rather poorly to evade Tataru's suspicion that aught had happened again this morning.

Because, oh Twelve, something certainly had.

Even now, as she left her mount with the camp's chocobokeep and made her way in for dinner, she still felt it as she moved. The traces Haurchefant had left within her body — a deep, satisfying ache. The way his mouth had felt at her neck, leaving marks she wore under her clothing like a secret badge of honor.

Gods. She could not wait to be alone with him. To see him smile. To tease him and see his eyes narrow as he laughed, those lovely long pointed ears flushing pink to their tips just for her. To fall into his arms and tell him all about her day, and to hear about his.

Was this how everyone in love felt all the time? Of course not, right? Hydaelyn might now be beyond her reach, something she tried her hardest not to dwell on, but clearly Haurchefant had been on to something when he'd said he'd believed that Halone had blessed them both.

She made her way through the door to the dining hall and looked towards their table, hoping to find him there — and, yes, there he was, waiting for her with some of the others, seated facing away. Alphinaud made a gesture — he must have noticed her enter — and Haurchefant turned back to see her, his eyes lighting up with affection and joy as they met hers.

It was such a delight to her to see him there that she caught herself shifting her weight to rush towards him, catching herself just barely, before waving a slightly embarrassed hello and turning to join the line of knights awaiting their nightly meal. How silly, she thought to herself, what has gotten into you? If Haurchefant said it would be best for the Scions for none to know they were together, well, she trusted him, and she would have to restrain herself. She was certain, what with how incredibly expressive and effusively affectionate a man he was, that Haurchefant was having an even harder time hiding it than she was. She could barely even imagine — how that passionate, impulsive man of all people had become so disciplined was a wonder she could scarcely fathom.

The hot meal was sorely appreciated after such a long day's work, and even moreso her company. Haurchefant sat beside her as they ate, keeping a friendly distance, of course, though Tataru's knowing glances were incredibly obvious. She even caught Yugiri gazing at the pair of them with fond appreciation before politely going back to enjoying her meal.

"Alphinaud, you seem in much better spirits today — take the day off for rest like Haur— Lord Haurchefant suggested, did you?" the Warrior could not help but ask.

The young Elezen met her eyes with a softly understanding look, then nodded. "Aye, I did — thank you again for your insistence, Lord Haurchefant," he added, turning to the man. Haurchefant simply smiled and shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head as if to say it was nothing. "...I do not know what it is about this place, but something about our stay here has been oddly restorative. 'Tis as if something in the air here makes those around us begin smiling somehow despite how bleak the odds may seem. Why, I don't believe I have ever seen our friend here in such good spirits."

Alphinaud gestured towards the Warrior with an earnestly appreciative smile, and she felt herself draw in a slightly panicked breath, quickly locking eyes with Haurchefant beside her. She swore she heard a tiny huff of breath come from Tataru, as if fighting back a laugh — gods, that woman —

"'Tis the morning exercise regimen, Master Alphinaud," Haurchefant attempted to cover smoothly, meeting the boy with a pleasant smile that the Warrior suspected only she could tell hid a small bit of panic underneath. "Greeting the dawn each morning with a body fully awoken to its potential for continued growth does wonders for one's sense of well-being, doesn't it, my friend?"

Tataru definitely let out a snort at this, only a hand at her lips masking what the Warrior was certain was an expression on the verge of breaking into laughter. The Warrior pointedly ignored this, instead nodding in agreement. Haurchefant was not wholly lying, after all; their daily morning exercise had worked wonders for her, even if the fact that she had fallen rather madly in love with her exercise partner was more likely to be responsible for what the young man was now picking up on.

"I see," Alphinaud replied, seeming to be considering Haurchefant's words with great interest. "Mayhap I have neglected my own physical fitness in favor of study... I suppose 'twould be overstepping to ask to join you both one morning to learn this routine of yours?"

The Warrior looked to Haurchefant, her eyes widening — Haurchefant had blinked, then masked his surprise in an instant, opening his mouth to speak, when—

"Master Alphinaud!" Yugiri gasped suddenly from where she sat beside the young man, causing all of their heads to turn to face her. Her face was intently serious, her small armored hand upon his shoulder. "The bond between such warriors is sacred, their routines the very foundation of their being," she insisted, her hazel eyes firm upon him, her brow furrowed. "You mustn't intrude, lest you hinder all they have worked tirelessly for these past weeks."

The Warrior stared at the Auri woman, as did both Haurchefant and Alphinaud. Tataru watched the rest of them with rapt, eager attention.

"Ah—" Haurchefant managed to get out, gathering himself. "I would not go quite so far myself, but, yes... 'tis true that such training becomes the very foundation of one's ability, and as I have worked to tailor our routine to our friend's specific needs, it would not be suited to you, Master Alphinaud," he explained. The Warrior could see sweat beading at the back of his neck as he explained.

Alphinaud nodded in apology, seeming a bit embarrassed. "Yes... yes of course, that makes perfect sense. Pray excuse my presumptuousness."

"Oh, not at all!" the knight insisted, his body seeming to relax at this. "'Tis vital indeed, physical fitness. If you wish it, Master Alphinaud, I can make allowances for you to learn the basics along with some of our new recruits... I do warn you though, the training can be rather vigorous, and they will not go easy on you despite your age or status as honored guest."

The Warrior momentarily braced at this — could Alphinaud handle another failure as things were? The lordling was, as far as she could tell, decently fit, and able to offer support in combat with competence beyond his few years; but training alongside knights of Ishgard seemed entirely out of the boy's area of aptitude.

Alphinaud laughed, however, waving a hand dismissively, and she felt herself relax.

"No, no... I rather doubt an academic such as I would be able to follow along with your knights," he said, seeming glad for the suggestion nonetheless. "I thank you for your willingness to offer aid regardless, Lord Haurchefant. I may try a spot of morning exercise on my own."

"Of course," Haurchefant replied with a nod and a friendly smile. The Warrior looked at him fondly for a moment, before catching herself and pressing her cup of warmed wine to her lips.

Haurchefant was truly always doing everything within his power to help others: whether it was for her or her allies, the people of his house, his nation, or even complete strangers. She'd once seen him slipping coin to a passing Hyuran traveler who seemed down on his luck, so that he might afford a few nights' stay at an inn once he made it to the Twelveswood — never mind that the man could easily have been swindling him. It was rare to find anyone as generous as him in the rest of Eorzea; much less among the harsh, largely insular people of Coerthas.

That generosity, that constant willingness to help others had been what initially drew her to him, she realized. Where would they be without his aid? The Enterprise unrecovered, several Scions in the hands of the Empire, van Baelsar and his Ultima Weapon still a looming threat?

Yet on a smaller, much more personal level, something moved her heart, seeing him offer these little, unnecessary kindnesses. Even when put into a rather awkward position — with Tataru's eyes crinkled upwards into half-moons across the table as she watched their exchange with only slightly masked amusement — Haurchefant still tried to offer what he could to improve the lives of those around him, asking nothing in return. He was... well, she loved him. How couldn't she?

She felt her cheeks warm, her hand balling into a fist at her side as she fought the urge to reach out and squeeze his hand. Oh gods, she was truly done for, wasn't she? For so long she'd figured that spending a night with him might loosen his hold on her every thought somehow, but oh, how foolish an idea that had been. True, she felt much less like she might die if he didn't grab her and press his lips to hers, at least from moment to moment, but these soft, new feelings of affection were bright and all-consuming in a way she hardly knew what to do with.

She was grateful when Tataru reminded Alphinaud that they'd all likely feel more refreshed in the morning if they retired early tonight, even if she did follow this up with a surreptitious wink in the Warrior's direction. The Warrior narrowed her eyes in soft reproach and got only a quiet giggle from her friend before they all began rising from their seats and shuffling out of the dining hall at different paces.

As she rose she gave Haurchefant a silently encouraging look, and the warmth she saw in his eyes alone as he smiled back at her — she could not help but stand up straight and quickly walk away, knowing that if she lingered any longer she'd be forced to make a dopey grin surrounded by the people of Camp Dragonhead.

Oh, sure, she was plenty tired from the day's work... but as she made her way up to his quarters as if she belonged there, the light spring to the Warrior's step certainly spoke otherwise.

Haurchefant Greystone was in demand these days, much to his chagrin. Yes, it was natural and fitting that he be relied upon to help his people and his nation recover from the effects of the heavy storm — and yet, as he had spent every free moment (and many occupied ones) thinking about how badly he wished to be nowhere but by his lover's side, in private, whispering softly against her skin and seeing that light of affection for him dancing in her eyes...

As she'd left the dining hall, she'd given him a secret smile, benign enough at first glance to perhaps look like a gesture between friends. Yet Haurchefant could see the warmth there, tinging her features with a subtle softness, her lashes lowering as if in invitation, before she turned and left the room, her steps light.

His heart had leapt, all of him wanting to immediately follow her, but a handful of knights had surrounded him with their reports, and fighting back a sigh, he'd acknowledged them and dealt with camp business for perhaps another forty minutes before he'd been able to free himself for the evening.

By the time Haurchefant made his way up to his quarters, the Warrior had already left a trail of her discarded clothing through both his main room and bedchamber, and he could hear the sound of water running from his bath.

He called her name in a sultry tone of delighted surprise as he turned the doorknob, only to find his lover, already clean and sunken down to her shoulders in the steaming bath water, wiggling her fingers at him in a positively adorable wave.

"Haurchefant," she said, her tone playful and welcoming. "I thought I'd help myself to a long soak in your tub... I think it's warranted after how hard you and your knights worked me today."

Her eyes were glimmering with mischief, despite how settled in and relaxed she seemed, and as she cocked her head slightly in a teasing gesture, he caught a glimpse of the fading remnants of the marks he'd left at her neck. Oh, it all came back in a rush — no, truth be told, he'd already been thinking about it all day, the morning's training and the way he'd claimed her... how happy they'd both been...

He'd been buried in tedious paperwork and administrative tasks all day, and yet it had been nothing at all, knowing she was out there working alongside him from afar, that she'd be back here with him in the evening. She hadn't said so, of course, but after so many days spent together, after the way she looked at him — oh, he knew.

It was terrifying, yet oh-so-wonderful to find himself in love with someone who he trusted would return to him again and again. He had never thought that he would be so blessed.

"My heart, you can have anything you want. You don't know how much it pleases me to retire for the evening to find you here, taking liberties in my private quarters Iike this..."

"I do have a bit of an idea," she giggled, eyes traveling over his body as he slipped out of the rest of his clothing. He felt no pressing need, but he was still half-hard at the sight of her; he couldn't help it. "Come rinse off and join me."

He did so eagerly, scrubbing himself down quickly and then slipping into the tub beside her as soon as possible. She let out a pleased sigh as he sidled up beside her and floated her into his lap, her small body nearly weightless in the steaming water. He curled his arms around her waist, holding her close, and she hummed contentedly, leaning back against his chest. She felt soft and delicate in his arms, despite all her power. Though the hot water sunk relaxation deep into his muscles, he could feel his heart beating faster at their casual intimacy.

"You worked so hard today, my love," he murmured, smoothing back her damp hair and pressing a kiss to her forehead. She looked back up at him and smiled, her expression unguarded and affectionate, and before he knew it he'd moved around her, craned his neck down and pressed his lips to hers, his fingers tangling in her soaking wet hair.

The kiss was slow, melting, lingering, the Warrior shuddering and sighing as his tongue probed gently against hers, floating around to face him, her small, hot hands coming up to rest at his neck.

"Mmm," she hummed after their lips parted, a warmth in her eyes as they met his. "And what of you? Still stuck at your desk doing paperwork all day?"

He sighed a soft groan, and felt her fingers at his cheek. He covered them with his own. "I suspect the lingering excitement of slaying a dragon at your side will have to tide me over for quite some time," he shrugged, bringing her hand to his lips to kiss at her fingertips. Her calloused hands had already gotten all soft and crinkled in the bath water — cute.

"I can't say that shoveling snow all day makes for much excitement either," the Warrior said with a laugh, then narrowed her eyes in a mischievous tease. "Though I daresay this morning was plenty."

"Mmm," Haurchefant hummed, her words stirring both the memory and the heat in his belly. It had flickered within him all day, the thought of it slowly overcoming even his body's profound satisfaction.

The way she'd hungered for him, urging him to take her, to make her his — it had awoken some base desire within him he'd long suppressed.

They were, of course, full equals — no, she outshone him by far, but by the way she constantly praised him it was hard not to strive to be worthy of being at her side. To give her all that he had, in all things.

Yet he was a Greystone. Such sons and daughters were not meant to truly lay claim to anyone, unclaimed by their own families as they were. And if, by chance, they were lucky enough to find a lasting match, they gave up their own names, taking that of their partners.

Not that marriage was what he was concerned with here — his mind deftly skipped over that implication. No... it was simply that... having her be his... the thought of it, even for only an isolated moment of explosive passion, had fairly driven him insane.

He didn't truly wish to possess her; nor, clearly, did she wish to be possessed. But in some way, she was his, as he was hers, and, Fury... that he could belong to someone, and that it could be her... Part of him, that part of him he hid deep down that had long felt so terribly alone, wanted to hold her tightly in his arms and never let her go.

Yet a wiser, more perceptive part of him could clearly see how that was not needed. For she was here, of her own free and joyous choice, naked in his bath, kissing and gently caressing him, welcoming his every touch. Smiling and teasing. In love with him.

Her eyes were glinting up at him, and as he met her gaze, he felt a deep longing in his chest and bent down to kiss her once more. She chuckled and then panted a small gasp against his lips as he drew her flush against him by the waist, engulfing her in his embrace.

One kiss became another, and another, long and languid then deeper and more passionate, her fingers rubbing at his ears again and sending shivers of want down his spine. There were no words, just their eyes catching against each other, lips brushing with soft panting breaths between kisses. The heat of their intimacy and the heat of the water surrounding them mingled until he could barely distinguish the two, nearly lightheaded.

"Haurchefant," she sighed as she slung a leg around him, pulling even closer — she brushed against the length of him, sparks traveling up his spine, and he couldn't help but let out a soft noise at the contact. Her eyes roamed over him, and then with a smile she began to tilt her hips forward, grinding softly against him.

"I thought you said this morning was plenty," he breathed, even as he slid his hands down to cup her perfect arse underneath the water and rut rhythmically back against her.

"It was," she answered, then let out a soft whine as his lips came to her neck, teasing and sucking the marks he'd left there. She laughed, her voice breathy. "But — ah — if you touch me like that..."

"Like what," he murmured against the shell of her ear. He could feel her shiver in his arms, her fingers flexing to grip the muscle of his back more tightly.

The Warrior's thoughts were now clouded with desire. Haurchefant's hot breath against her ear... his hard length, sliding along the outer contours of her now-slick core... His slow, patient kisses, the gentle, teasing nips at the marks he'd left at her neck, his strong hands gripping her backside and drawing them close...

He touched her not with the frantic urgency of overwhelming lust or burning passion, or the show of strength and dominance she'd coaxed out of him this morning. Nor was his touch overly gentle or reverent, or desperate to be of service.

She loved all those things, all those aspects of his desire and affection she'd seen thus far in their time together. She would have welcomed any of them.

But there was something in the way he touched her now — near wordlessly, but not needing words to express. Slow at first, gradually picking up speed alongside her as the heat within them built. Natural. Patient. Pleasing her, yes, always pleasing her... but, she thought, especially as he squeezed at her backside and ground against her, certainly with his own pleasure in mind as well.

He touched her with a sense of deepening trust. A growing confidence that he was wanted, perhaps. She'd been tired when she'd drawn the bath, excited to see him but also ready to wind down for the evening... but then he'd wrapped her in his arms and kissed her slowly and steadily with a gentle surety that made her heart swell and ache softly, and... oh...

"Like what," he rumbled into her ear again, soft and inquisitive. His breath had begun to come in soft pants. "How am I touching you, for you to want me again so soon?"

"...Like you love me," she whispered, searching his eyes, her head swimming with heat. She was sure she'd be blushing something fierce if she weren't already scarlet from head to toe thanks to the bath.

"I do," he insisted with an incredulous, breathy chuckle, pressing his forehead to hers.

"I know," she whined, as his length ground against her apex beneath the water, making her tremble. "Gods, I know—"

His fingers knotted into her hair as he pressed his lips to hers in an assertive kiss that swallowed her words. She softened to nearly putty in his arms as he deepened the kiss, his breath puffing hot through his nose, her tongue swirling back against his with building need.

"I want you too," he murmured as they broke for air, taking himself in his hand and rubbing his tip against her entrance under the water. "Don't know I will ever stop."

It was her turn to give him a breathy laugh, her heart beating firm and fast. She felt it too. She wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted herself up, curling a leg around his waist to give him better leverage. Their eyes met, entranced with one another, and then Haurchefant positioned himself and pressed inside.

It was... gods, that first aching stretch as he entered her was always so good, and the Warrior clung to him tightly, moaning quietly at the sensation, willing her body to relax and accept all of him. Haurchefant, too, made soft sensual groans, his forehead pressed against her shoulder as he pushed further in.

"Don't ever stop," she said, the words coming freely, swept away in this moment, in their bodies joining once more, in how he made her feel.

Haurchefant lifted his head at her words, eyes of deep azure searching hers with meaningful wonder, then flitting down in a smile that looked far too shy for a man who was now halfway inside her.

"No," he murmured, "I don't think I will."

His words stirred something inside the Warrior's chest, and with a wonderful yearning ache she kissed him, sensual and deep. He returned it with equal passion, holding her tightly in his arms, and then, one hand at her hip, he began to move.

Oh, she was weightless, floating in the heat of the bath and the steaming air. She clung to him as if he were the only steady thing in the world, to the shape of his glorious body, to the even greater heat searing up through her core as he filled her more and more with each rhythmic thrust deeper. The water sloshed loudly around them yet gentled his movements, and gods, the way he touched her...

"Wonderful," he gasped, as she tilted her hips down into his, seeking more of him.

"Perfect," he breathed, near-reverent as he slipped deeper inside her, their noses and lips brushing in pants of overlapping heat.

"Splendid," he groaned, as her lips and tongue found the soft skin below his ear and sought to taste, to tease, to mark.

She lost herself in it — in the dizzying heat, in the building need of her body, in the effortless spontaneity of it all. Soon she was melting in his arms, whimpering at his praises, lost to everything but Haurchefant's vivid blue eyes on hers and the shape of him pressed deep inside her, rocking back and forth and sending shivers of molten pleasure up from her core. It was almost unbearable, her body a live wire of overwhelming sensation.

"S—so good... ah," she cried out, the sound muffled as his lips covered hers, his tongue invading her mouth with fervent need. His hips slapped up into her relentlessly, his thick length driving into her so deeply he was all she could feel. She was shaking, desperate moans escaping through her nose, her hands at his back scrambling for purchase, nails digging into his skin.

"Yes, my heart?" her lover groaned against her lips, beads of moisture dripping down his face. "Are you— are you going to come already?"

The Warrior nodded, and Haurchefant watched her with a reverent ache upon his face, still bouncing her up and down in his lap at the same measured pace — oh, gods, it was so much, each thrust hitting somewhere deep inside her that made her tremble, pleasure searing up from her core.

"Yes, I— oh, gods, Haurchefant, I'm going to—" she gasped, nearly cresting the edge but not quite tipping over. "Mmm, please—"

She was so nearly lost she didn't even know what she was begging for, but when his lips came to her throat and his fingers rubbed circles at her throbbing apex, the world exploded in bursts of convulsing pleasure, the shocks of it wracking her with sensation as he kept filling her through it, sucking hungrily at her neck.

When she finally came to, Haurchefant was staring at her with unfocused desire, his hips now bucking erratically up into her, making her dizzy. Her eyes met his and he whimpered, clearly so close.

"This isn't... too much, is it," he asked, his tone almost pleading.

"No," she answered, holding his ear and caressing the edge, making him gasp and buck into her so hard she let out a deep, guttural moan. "I can take—" she panted, digging her nails into his back, biting her lip... gods, it was so much, but she needed to see him come too. "—as much as you need."

She looked into his eyes and found fire there.

"By the Fury," he groaned with a now-desperate hunger.

With a surge of wanton passion, she was lifted up off of his lap entirely, then laid on the wide stone edge of the tub. She stared up at him in surprise for barely a second before he was upon her, filling her again, grunts and panted breaths spilling from his lips, the slap of his wet hips against her spread thighs echoing throughout the room.

She was now moaning again too — she couldn't help it, every bit of her so sensitive and feeling utterly his. His wet body caged hers in, showering droplets of water upon her, and gods simply watching him on the edge, his eyes filled with desperation...

"Haurchefant," she cried out, fingers tangling in his hair.

He spoke her name in turn, his voice ragged. "Oh, Halone," he swore, saying her name again in a husky moan, burying himself deep—

He pulsed inside her, coming apart in waves of heat, and she watched all the while, gasping along with him at the sensation. Gods, he was beautiful, his long lashes pressed shut in the throes of his pleasure, a deep flush across his face, his body above her shuddering in ways she found terribly erotic and also overwhelmingly intimate to take in, his voice choking out her name —

And then he collapsed atop her, his head laying upon her chest. She gently stroked his cheek, feeling spent and tender, meeting his eyes as he opened them. He gave her a soft smile, and couldn't help but return one of her own.

"Hah... my love, I... I seem to keep filling you up in the most unexpected places," he panted, looking at her with an expression far more gentle and yearning than his words. "I am..." he trailed off, wrapping her in his arms and scooping her up as he stood, "quite sure I am causing you a bit of an inconvenience, and for that I apologize."

The Warrior laughed, finding his concern patently ridiculous, and pressed her forehead to his. "An inconvenience? Yes, you do make quite the mess..." she intoned slyly, trailing her hand down the side of his long neck. "And just after I'd finally cleaned up the last one..."

He looked a bit embarrassed, but also like he was trying to hide a feeling of immense pride, and it made her giggle even more.

"But that's alright. I'll just have to make a mess of you the next time."

Haurchefant sputtered, his eyes going wide, and she collapsed into a laughing fit in his arms. Soon they were both laughing, dripping wet in the steamy bath, their bodies still joined.

"You devilish minx," he said incredulously between laughs, grinning. "How on Hydaelyn have all my filthiest prayers been answered? 'Tis as if all my namedays have come at once."

"Mmm, you do worship a goddess who seems rather fond of big, long spears," she teased. "Seems like a conceivable outcome to me." He looked positively scandalized.

"By the Fury," he laughed, his face brightened with utter enjoyment. "That is so vulgar, I daresay it may be tantamount to heresy!" He pressed a joyous kiss to her lips, then grinned down at her. "Oh, I love you."

"You say that now?" she laughed, shoving gently at his chest, and as Haurchefant nuzzled his face against her neck, both of them still snickering with wicked laughter like naughty children, the Warrior of Light felt as though she wanted for nothing in the world.

Chapter Text

After their bath, both Haurchefant and the Warrior of Light had felt utterly relaxed yet also still rather awake, so the two of them had slipped into Haurchefant's bed, cuddling up close in front of a blazing hearth.

He held her from behind — her body, so lithe and powerful on the battlefield, was ever so marvelously small in his arms, and he pressed soft, gentle kisses to her neck, breathing in the scent of her skin, her hair.

"Oh... I could really get used to this," the Warrior sighed, reaching back and stroking her fingers up through the back of his hair. "Working hard all day... being spoiled by you at night..."

Her voice was gently teasing, but Haurchefant sensed a sincerity there that made a warmth spread through his chest, his mouth widening in an aching smile.

"As could I, my love," he murmured. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of her earlobe. She shuddered and leaned back into him, and he tightened his arms around her waist, pulling her close. "As could I."

He knew — he hoped, really — that this arrangement would not be permanent. Soon enough, with the Fury's favor, Ishgard would have a reprieve from battle, and hopefully he would be sending his lover along to Ishgard, where he would certainly not be able to spend every night with her like this. And certainly such a change would likely be healthy for them both — he longed to see her free to spread her wings of adventure once more, no longer burdened by the chains of suspicion and persecution that had brought her to shelter under his protection. And he knew it true, at least for himself, that he would only grow fonder of her in her absence. He hoped in his heart of hearts that she would remain just as fond of him as well.

Yet, oh — what a wonder it would be, for every day and night to be as the last few had been. Their days spent mostly apart but their nights and mornings spent together, falling ever more deeply in love with one another.

By Halone, it had only been a handful of days and he already felt it in his bones that, should their love ever come to an end, he would never recover. He had in truth already loved her for so long; he had simply been unwilling to face it, to risk burdening her with his affections should they prove unwanted.

And now that they'd been not only accepted, but returned in ample measure... well. He had never felt so wanted; nor so much like he'd belonged anywhere in his life.

Oh, he was hers. In body, heart and soul. There was nothing that could change that. Even Halone Herself, if she willed it, could do naught to sever his bond to her. He would be hopelessly devoted to the Warrior of Light, this incredible, wonderful woman, for the rest of his days. And perhaps beyond. It was, in all honesty, a bit terrifying to love someone this much. But he had always loved more than others thought he should; a failing of his foolish heart. Yet he felt content beyond measure to simply be her fool for as long as she would have him.

She sighed again, settling in, and he smiled against her skin.

"I hope we are able to find the missing Scions soon," she said softly, though not with despair but a sense of quiet hope.

Haurchefant moved, slipping out from behind her, letting the Warrior fall onto her back, propping himself up on an elbow and looking down at her. She gave him a hopeful smile.

"I hope so too," he said, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "You know I will do all I can to aid you."

She nodded, seeming glad of his words but somewhat lost in thought. "You know... it is almost funny... I joined their ranks merely to make sense of the chaos that was going on around me, and somehow..." She let out a breath, as if hesitant to continue.

"Somehow?"

"I wound up finding in them a sort of family," she said with a lopsided smile. "One that I took for granted would always be there. I suppose that is what one does with family, isn't it," she sighed, and he took her hand in his, caressing it gently in hopes of offering her comfort.

"...Aye, I suppose that is often right," Haurchefant admitted, reminded of his own losses, his own strained relationships with the men who shared his blood. And his enduring bonds with Lord Francel and his closest aides, who, too, felt like a sort of family to him. "Family is... the people whom you trust to be there even when others cannot."

The Warrior nodded, thoughtful.

"...Yes. I suppose so," she agreed, leaning her head onto his shoulder and squeezing his hand. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring the mood down."

"My heart, if aught weighs on your mind I wish to hear it. I am always glad to hear of your thoughts, even should they not be beguiling tales of adventure or delightful flattery about your favored handsome knight."

Her eyes twinkled in amusement at this, and he sighed and continued more seriously. "I truly do wish to hear what is on your mind, if you would share it with me. I am no stranger to your burdens and I wish to support you."

She gave him a long, lingering look before nodding with a small smile. "Alright," she said. "I guess I've just... been thinking how this is not the first time this has happened. Losing family, I mean. Which... which is why I must hold out hope that they aren't truly lost, this time."

The Warrior of Light, safe in Haurchefant's arms, began to tell him more about herself. The words flowed freely from her lips despite having long been trapped inside with no one to speak them to.

She told him about the family she'd loved and lost in the Calamity, about how the newfound joy of exploration and the countless small bonds she'd forged as an adventurer had somehow woven her back together. She told him of how she'd first awoken to the Echo on a ship bound for Limsa Lominsa, seeing falling stars and hearing the voice of Hydaelyn in her mind, not yet knowing what it meant. She told him of friends still dear and close, of kind allies since departed. He listened patiently, his arm curled around her under the covers, laughing with her joys, offering comfort to her sorrows, lending her not just his ear but his whole caring and attentive heart.

"When I first met you, I was a wreck," she laughed sadly, "the Imperial raid on the Waking Sands had only but happened. I... I carried the dead, you know," she murmured, eyes downcast. "From where they'd fallen to where they were conveyed from Vesper Bay to their final resting place. So many of them... lost, and for what? The Garleans... they were looking for me," she confessed, a pain still burning deep in her stomach as she recalled it. "I was not there. Yet their commander let her soldiers slay so many, only to soothe their frustration that the ones pierced on the ends of their blades were not me."

"I did not know," he answered. "I had heard tell of the Scions, of how they'd suffered an Imperial raid and were no more. And I could see in your face that you had been through much. But... that your burden was so heavy..." His expression showed her deepest sympathy, his hand gently touching her cheek. She let her eyes close beneath his gaze, offering a knowing grimace.

"Truth be told, I, too, have had to carry my fallen allies," he divulged, hand dropping to the sheets between them, his eyes breaking from hers. "The true battlefronts in this war are cruel, unspeakable things. So many brave young souls, thrown against flame and claw and lost long before their time. So many bodies, simply left there in the cold, no one able to claim them... Such horrors can easily destroy a man's heart. It may seem cowardice, but I was truly glad when I took up my post here, before it could do such to me."

She shook her head, meeting his gaze, squeezing his hand in hers. "No... that is not cowardice," she assured him. "The work you do here has meaning, brings hope and purpose to the lives of your men. None of us are meant to endure countless years of bitter battle," she said, and he nodded solemnly, taking in her words. "We are not meant to live so steeped in darkness. Even I... I cannot fight all the time, no matter how impotent it can make me feel. And certainly not with others dying around me..."

"No," he agreed, squeezing her hand back tightly. "And I would not want you to. Would not want anyone to, in truth."

The Warrior could not help but smile. This was the man she loved — a man who endured much to spare others pain. "That is what we both fight for," she said, "so that others need not."

"Yes," he breathed, the warmth of his face nearing her own. He gently pressed his forehead to hers, and she closed her eyes and breathed in, his touch a great comfort. "We fight so that we may know peace."

The Warrior sighed and fell forward into Haurchefant, and he wrapped her in his waiting arms, taking comfort in holding her close, her body pressed close to his.

That she'd been through truly so much loss, and yet still stood strong... and had chosen him to confide in during moments of weakness, even long before they'd fallen in love like this, still filled him with a sense of wonder, a deep honor at being trusted so.

The woman he'd greeted on her very first arrival in his camp had seemed so strong and distant, her eyes deeply etched with weariness, yet determined to stay her course. He'd seen that sort of look on many an Ishgardian knight, but not often on an adventurer such as her. He now felt he very much understood why.

What, then, had she thought of him? He could not help but ask.

"What did you think of me, when first we met?"

"Mm," she hummed, considering, remembering. "I was deeply surprised to suddenly be receiving such a warm welcome, after my reception in the rest of Coerthas had been so cold."

He nodded, a small smile coming to his face. He had ever been determined to use his blessed position to show all visitors to his camp true hospitality, and she had of course been no exception.

"Also, I do remember thinking: 'who is this handsome young lord, and why are his men exercising half-naked in his reception hall?'"

Haurchefant laughed hard at this, his face flushing with warmth. "Oh... yes, that does tend to inspire some interesting reactions from newcomers to my camp, 'tis true. I once had a merchant from Ul'dah form a very frustratingly stubborn preconception that such knights were in fact my personal harem," he recalled with more than a bit of pained amusement.

The Warrior tried very poorly to suppress a grin at this. "They were not your harem, then, I presume?"

"Heavens no," he laughed, insistent, and she began to cackle. "Fury, I find it hard to believe you would want me if you'd thought they were."

"I will admit similar thoughts did cross my mind at first," she said with a teasing glint in her eye, "but when I asked others around your camp I was told you were simply a bit of an eccentric who was passionate about muscle training, and that some of your men shared said passion and desired supervision. ...Though a couple also seemed to suggest you rather enjoyed the company of men."

Haurchefant sighed, sliding a hand through his hair. "Well, I suppose much of that is more or less the right of it. I... do admit to appreciating a well-trained or beautiful form, regardless of its sex... yet I would never entertain such inappropriate thoughts about my own men," he insisted. "I... assume knowing such does not bother you, seeing as you pursued me anyway?"

"Hardly," she replied with a shrug. "You love me, and that is what matters," she said, cupping his cheek. He drew in a breath, then bent to kiss her, feeling a warmth spread through him.

"I do," he murmured, stroking her cheek, and she met him with a smile.

"Besides," she added lightly, "I'd be lying if I said I'd never fancied a woman myself."

"Oh," he answered with a tone of delighted surprise. He knew it perhaps inappropriate, but he could not help his eternally wandering mind from immediately conjuring up some rather appealing imagery. She met him with a flat stare and he flushed, rather chagrined. "Well, that is quite fine by me. I certainly feel no less wanted."

"Good," she concluded, seeming satisfied. "Another thing we have in common, then."

"Yes," he agreed, stroking his fingers up through her hair, then rubbing fingertips against her scalp. She sighed into his touch, resting her forehead against his neck.

Oh, just having her here, near-naked in his arms... feeling her relax into him, fully trusting and comfortable, meant the world to him.

Something she'd said, though, yet bubbled excitedly below the surface of his skin.

"You truly thought me handsome from the very first?" he asked, and she lifted her head to look at him, eyes blinking as if surprised.

"I mean... of course. You do know you are handsome, right?" Her eyes glinted teasingly, and he felt himself begin laughing nervously without meaning to, a bit giddy at the direct, honest praise.

"Well, I like to think so, yes... but, mmm. I know I am not to everyone's taste. I have, in the past, been compared rather unfavorably to my father and elder brother, you see..." he confessed, feeling a bit foolish as soon as the words slipped off his tongue. Why had he voiced such trivial insecurities? Clearly, the Warrior of Light found him handsome, she had said so on many occasions, not to mention demonstrated her attraction to him rather thoroughly, and that meant that none of this should matter—

"...Have you?" she asked in a soft, quiet voice, her smaller hand cupping his jaw. He looked down at her to see her bright eyes full of earnest concern.

He briefly thought to make an excuse or move the topic of conversation along to something else, but faced with that look in her eyes he found he could do naught but nod, letting out a held breath as a reluctant sigh.

"Well, bollocks to whatever tactless fool said that, they certainly need to have their eyes checked," she answered with a firm frown. "Or if not, perhaps I should consider wearing sunglasses when meeting your family to avoid being blinded by their good looks," she continued, her lips badly suppressing a grin, and as her mirthful eyes met his, soft laughter began to spill out of him. She immediately joined him, his laughter apparently contagious, nearly doubled over on the mattress together.

"Also," she said, seemingly getting more worked up as they kept laughing, "do you not have a younger brother as well? Did they find him so unremarkable as to not be worth mentioning? The nerve," she insisted, apparently genuinely offended at the idea, which only made him bark out a particularly loud shout of laughter and roll onto his back.

"You are so right," Haurchefant agreed, wiping a tear from his eye and staring up at his bed's crimson canopy. "Just because dear Emmanellain yet has a bit of a... a youthful glow about him — he is still, undoubtedly, a handsome young—" he laughed, straining to catch his breath, "young man—"

"I'm sure that he is!" she insisted, rubbing her eyes as she tried to catch her breath, their laughter finally slowing. "...Gods, Haurchefant, all joking aside, if someone ever says something like that about you in front of me, I will almost certainly smack them."

"Then they had better hold their tongues," he decided, his eyes narrowing in a smile, and she nodded matter-of-factly. "...My heart, you do realize that having you in my corner in such matters may inflate my ego to frankly sacreligious proportions?" he offered, turning back to face her.

Her eyes glimmered with amusement. "If I see you getting out of hand, I can always challenge you to a duel to knock you back to earth," she shrugged, and he smiled, gently running his hand up over the length of her side, the thrilling memory of her knocking him flat coming to mind. She raised her eyebrows. "Besides, I like you better with a bit more pride than may be appropriately pious."

He grinned. "Ah, now there's the purported danger in consorting with outsiders," he chuckled, and she met his eyes conspiratorially.

"Funny that a man so strong in his faith does not seem to truly mind."

Haurchefant shrugged, slipping an arm underneath the Warrior's waist. "Halone has blessed us all with the ability to discern wrong from right, to see what is good for us and what is not. And I can see little wrong with allowing myself a measure of indulgence in private... mayhap quite a great measure... if it is what pleases you, my heart." He trailed his fingers down her cheek, stroking her jaw with his fingertips as he spoke and watching her eyes follow his touch. "After all, the Fury Herself has guided you to me, this I believe; and would it not be wrong to deny Her blessing even the smallest happiness? My ego will have to simply endure."

The Warrior let out a gentle huff of air, perhaps a disbelieving laugh. "Haurchefant," she said, closing her eyes, her brows knitting together as she smiled widely. "That is one of the most patently ridiculous... and romantic... things I have ever heard anyone say."

He could feel his love for her growing further in his chest, urging him closer. He brought his face close to hers, nudging their foreheads together, his nose grazing hers. She looked into his eyes — Fury, but her eyes were beautiful, even in the fading light of the now-dimming fire.

"I pray you don't repeat my words when I take you to Halonic mass, my heart," he teased, "lest our love be declared most heretical."

She laughed softly, her breath puffing against his lips, and then, both of them unclear which had met the other first, she joined him in a long, slow, lingering kiss.

No news came from the Waking Sands the next day... or the next day, or the one after that. Aside from a messenger on chocoboback — a flying breed of chocobo, the sight of which the Warrior had rarely even glimpsed — sending word that Ishgard had weathered the storm but the Dravanian assault yet continued, nothing came from Ishgard either. Not even when the path from camp to the Gates of Judgement lay clear.

Yet the days that followed were satisfying and precious, much like the last. Waking in her lover's bed, his large body draped around her like the duvet that covered them both. Hard training in the mornings that often turned to heated moments interrupted by the morning bell. Days spent assisting Camp Dragonhead alongside House Fortemps' sworn knights — clearing snow, hunting beasts, earning a comradery with those she worked beside. Occasional evening sparring matches that left her grinning and alive. Dinners with the other Scions, and Haurchefant alongside them. And the nights... well. Though the storm had long cleared, it was awfully cold here in the highlands. Could anyone really blame her for wanting to stoke the warmest fire she'd ever known, to feel its blazing heat curl into every depth of her being?

Near the end of one such day, relieved early from her work with the camp's knights, she'd stopped by her quarters — the ones she hadn't slept in in many days — and retrieved the last of her personal belongings there before slipping into Haurchefant's quarters, the key he'd given her in hand.

He wasn't there yet, of course; it was yet a couple bells from mealtime, and she knew he still had duties to attend to at this hour. She thought she might stop by and visit him at work after she'd finished her task here.

Yet, alone in this room... she found herself wondering at how her life had changed in the past weeks. At how she'd arrived scared and uncertain, hesitant to truly rely on anyone. At how Haurchefant's deep love — even just as her friend — had melted many of her fears clear away, and made others more tolerable. At how moved she'd been when Haurchefant had first given her this key to his chambers, letting her know she could treat his home as her own if she wished to. At how she had fretted over whether it would be too soon for her to accept his advance and spend her nights and mornings by his side.

Why had she been worried at all? Spending her nights in Haurchefant's quarters had so quickly become second nature, a comforting home for her where she felt perfectly at ease. Any concerns she'd had back then about perhaps things moving too quickly seemed rather silly now — she'd already spent the past several weeks spending every possible moment she could in Haurchefant's rather eager company, and as she unpacked her final load of belongings from her guest room, placing her last forgotten tome on the shelf next to his, it... well, it felt right, bringing a blossoming warmth to her chest.

Tataru's teasing had gotten nearly insufferable in recent days, and the Warrior of Light was certain that she was now on the hook for a truly outrageous number of favors, the Lalafellin woman having helped her keep up the pretense that she was, ostensibly, not spending every evening in the arms of the camp's knight commander. But she did not regret a thing. Even if some mornings she awoke rather sore.

Not much later, she was nearly outside Haurchefant's office, her armored footfalls landing solidly on freshly swept flagstone.

What was it her mother had always told her? "If they really love you, you can see it in their eyes when you enter the room?"

As she swung open the double doors to the camp's headquarters, Haurchefant's gaze lifted from his desk and fell upon her. His face lit up with surprised yet brilliant joy — so bright her heart flared warm at the sight of it — before smoothing into a more casual, appropriate smile.

She was not sure if her mother's adage always held true — she'd never been loved by another and had little to compare it to — but oh, every time she saw his face when she surprised him with her presence, she felt purely loved. And just as excited to see him in turn. Gods, his excitement was contagious.

"Ah, perfect timing, my friend!" Haurchefant said as she approached, rising to his feet behind his desk. "Might I perhaps interest you in a challenge? Sers Yaelle and Corentiaux have secretly been clamoring to test your blade against theirs, as it were, and as it so happens the day's desk work has ended quite early—"

"Only because someone spilled the last bottle of ink before tomorrow's delivery," Ser Corentiaux grumbled from behind her, quietly enough that perhaps Haurchefant did not hear.

"—and so, at last, there is no obstacle to such a match taking place! If, of course, you happen to be ready and willing."

The Warrior grinned, feeling a surge of excitement rush through her chest. She punched her fist into her palm, her eyes darting between the three of them. At this, there was a spark of challenge in his lieutenants' eyes, and a heady delight on Haurchefant's face as he took in her reaction.

"Oh, you know I'm ready."