Summary: Rhea reunites with her family but it's hardly the homecoming she expected…
Author's Note: OC Work w/ MSQ References | Minor WoL x Haurchefant
Rhea stopped as she stepped into the drawing room of the Fortemps Manor, the door shutting behind her. Two figures rose from their seats on the sofas - two figures less than she had expected. Looking around the room for the missing two, she frowned and looked back to her mother and her twin.
"Where is Père? And Jean?" she asked, skipping past formalities and greetings. Elated though she was to see her twin, and she truly was, the tone of the Count prior and not seeing her father or brother had put a thread of fear through her. "I-is he busy with matters? I know my return has…well, there was little warning for it."
Despite their differences in temperament and interests, and their genders, Rhea and Philippe looked like the twins they were. Both had stark black hair and shimmering gray eyes that looked like pools of quicksilver. Their faces were angular and petite, with a refined quality of generations of selective breeding. Dark of skin, they truly looked like two sides of the same coin. Her twin's hair was shorter than she remembered it, one side braided tight to his head while the remainder wisped over his brow. Unlike her, his hair was still purely black and he had taken to growing a bit of facial hair in the year past.
As she looked upon her twin, eyes locked on him rather than their mother, she noticed the black band of mourning on his arm and her breath hitched in her chest. Philippe and Rhea, while different in many ways, had always been inseparable. They'd never needed words to convey themselves and there was no one in the world who could read Rhea better than her twin. The look Philippe held in his gaze told her all she needed to know and she didn't need to look at her mother to see a matching band on her arm.
"No. N-no…" Rhea said, trying to not let herself be overwhelmed by the emotions rising up in her, the crushing weight of the pain tightening around her heart. "No," she said again, this time firmly as she sliced her hand through the air.
"Pull yourself together!" her grey-haired mother hissed at her, a look of disgust and contempt on her face at her daughter's behavior. "You are a Baphineaux and we are in the manor of the Count de Fortemps. You will behave as such, lest you add further disgrace to our name more than you already have."
Even used to her mother's harsh criticism of her, Rhea felt herself struck as surely as if her mother had slapped her. Silver eyes whipped to the older elezen's brown gaze as she clenched her jaw together. "Forgive me, mother, for feeling emotion at find out my father and brother have…" she felt the words choke her. She couldn't finish them, she couldn't let them come out and be real. "I know showing even the barest of emotions was always frightfully insulting for your delicate sensibilities." The bite she gave her mother was filled with all the venom she could muster, feeling as much contempt for the woman as she apparently had for her own daughter.
She was, at least, grateful the door to the drawing room had been shut behind her soon after her arrival and they were alone. Still, one did not grow up in Ishgard without being distinctly aware that the walls had ears.
The way the Baroness Amalia narrowed her eyes at Rhea only inflamed her more. A challenge was being issued, a taunt to see which of the two would break first and lash out in an unbecoming way. Rhea had always been the one to have more of a temper than her twin, but it was a trait she had learned from the woman across from her.
Suddenly, she felt strong hands wrap around her shoulders as her attention was turned to the face so like her own. "Rhe, look at me..." Every emotion in her was a storm of chaos. Holding his silvery gaze, Rhea felt the anger and contempt for her mother begin to subside. Unfortunately, that made way for the pain and the grief. It was too soon, too much. On the heels of everything that had happened of late - especially Ul'dah the days prior. She could feel herself trembling in her brother's embrace.
"N-no, Phi…no, please…please tell me what I think you're going to say is wrong," she said, her voice quivering softly as she fought back tears. All the happiness and good she had felt from her night and morning with Haurchefant, and the warm arrival back home given by the Count, fell to ash as Phillipe gave her a pained and sad expression.
"I'm sorry Rhe but they're gone. They're with Halone now. When the dragons descended on the city, father and Jean were in Foundation helping rebuild some of the defenses we'd lost when last they'd come. Father wanted to show Jean that a true knight did more than just fight with his sword, that a knight fought with his values and his heart. He wanted to show Jean he could make as much of a difference among the people, rebuilding, as out in the field fighting. You know père, always trying to impart w-wisdom…" Even Phillipe had to take a moment to reign in the slight crack Rhea had heard in his voice.
When he had gathered himself, he looked down, though his hands remained on his sister's shoulders, "There was little warning before the cloud of wings descended upon the city. With the wards still in repair, Foundation was the first to be hit and the worst. We found them this morning in the rubble."
The despair she had felt upon arriving at Camp Dragonhead from the loss of her friends consumed her again, amplified now by the loss of her father and brother. Tears filled her eyes and she surged into her brother's arms, burying her face against his shoulder as the ability to contain her grief ceased to be within her control. Let her mother scowl and disapprove all she wanted, she didn't care. They were gone. Her sweet baby brother and her dearest father - her closest ally and her true best friend - were dead. Philippe held her tight and fierce as she silently cried against him, her heart screaming out at the loss it felt.
Never again would she hear the laughter of her little brother. Never more would the kind, silvery eyes of her father look upon her with dotage and pride as they delved into dusty tomes and ruins long lost to history. They were gone and she was left with a void in her chest she could scarce describe. First Moenbryda…then her dearest friends…now her father and brother. It was more loss than a soul could bear, even one so stalwart as the Warrior of Light's.
Though she looked down upon the no-doubt 'unseemly' display Rhea was showing in public - despite that 'public' being a private room with a shut door - the Baroness Amalia remained silent as she looked away from the spectacle and out the window, ever the picture of ice. Rhea truly didn't care though. A tear soaked glance was all she gave her before closing her eyes and letting herself find comfort in her twin's embrace. Wrapped in his arms, she could feel his own tumultuous emotions raging within him. She had never needed the Echo to sense his emotions. From birth, the two had been connected in ways beyond perception. Empathic to each other, there was nothing one felt that the other did not, especially when in close proximity. How he was holding himself together so well, she didn't know.
A few minutes passed as she held tight to her brother, trying to gain control over herself. This was not the time or place to lose herself to grief entirely. Sniffling softly, she slowly drew back from him and did her best to reign in her sorrow and tears. He offered her a handkerchief and she took it gratefully, wiping away her tears.
"Are you quite finished? " came the icy words from her mother as the dark-skinned woman turned and looked to Rhea from beneath silvery gray bangs. Age had taken her swiftly when it came to her hair but it was clear the agile lines of the twins' fair features came from her side of the family.
"Are you? How can you stand there, cold as ice, and not even show the barest of emotions? Your husband, your child, are gone and all you care about, as always, is your precious little image. I swear, the Lady Iceheart had more warmth to her than you could ever muster," she bit at her. Rhea was far too gone in her despair of recent events - especially the most recent of them - to hold anything back. Comparing her mother as worse than the queen of the heretics though was pushing it.
In swift, graceful strides, the Baroness closed the distance between herself and her daughter. The strike came swiftly, Rhea bracing for it. It was rare for the Baroness to lose control of herself so openly, but Rhea had always been able to break her out of it. Oil and water didn't even come close to describing how she and her mother got along. The pain from the expected slap stung and warmed her cheek as Rhea looked away. She had suffered and felt much worse and thus let it wash over her. Looking back to her mother, Philippe had withdrawn to his sister's side. One hand remained on Rhea's shoulder but it was clear he was staying out of the exchange for the moment. Just like he always did. Rhea had been closest with their father, but Philippe had ever been mother's little boy.
"I don't care what you have done, what you have become out there. Here, you will always be the Lady Rhea de Baphineaux and you will never speak to me like that again, do you understand me? Not only is it insulting beyond measure but it is grossly unbecoming of a Lady of Ishgard. Clearly your time out beyond our borders has rid you of what little decorum and propriety you had," Amalia said with such derision for her daughter. "Now, you will be silent and you will listen. Gracious as the Count de Fortemps is for offering you and those people sanctuary, you are going to leave this room as soon as you have composed yourself and you will politely, and with all the respect and decorum I taught you, give your thanks to the Count and refuse his offer for wardship. Is that clear?"
Rhea narrowed her eyes on her mother. She was no longer the wayward daughter under the woman's thumb, though it definitely felt like it as she was dressed down by her. It took everything in her to remind herself that she was more than just her daughter and a lady of Ishgard, she was the Warrior of Light. She had felled countless primals, thwarted the Black Wolf's invasion of Eorzea and even defeated the great Vishap on the very Steps of Faith outside their gates - making no mention, of course, her tussles with the Ascians. She was not a child to be jerked this way and that like a marionette to her mothers tune any longer.
"I will not," Rhea said clearly so as to make sure her mother caught every syllable of every word.
"Why ever not, Rhe?" Philippe asked, frowning at his sister. The new Baron de Baphineaux looked confused. "Surely you can see the scandal this will cause? Already rumors of your time spent in Camp Dragonhead fill the gossip of the nobility and how that bastard commander there openly fawns over you. It is disgraceful! To be housed and placed as a ward of the Count de Fortemps, that same bastard's father, while you are a member of a house pledged to the House of Dzemael? That unbecoming knight besides, just you being here under their protection is enough to bring suspicion and animosity to our house."
Rhea blinked at her brother, completely caught off guard by the words coming out of his mouth. Anger that had built up once more because of their mother now turned on him, though she tried to tamp it down quickly. She knew he'd feel it, but at least her mother would not see it. Any emotion at that moment involving what he'd said about Haurchefant would spell disaster. So she focused on the rest of it, and hoped the anger he would sense from her would be about the arrangement and not that particular knight. "The Count de Fortemps has been generous beyond measure and is risking much to provide sanctuary and a haven for me and my friends," she shot a look at her mother then to point out that they were friends and not just 'those people'.
Looking back to Philippe, she frowned at him, "We are one nation, Phi! One! The Horde is at our doorstep, so much so they killed father and Jean only yesterday, and Nidhogg is poised to rage at us again. His song has been sung and they are answering! What will become of us if we let these insignificant feuds between the Four Houses dictate what we do? Damn the House of Dzemael if they cannot see the benefits of having a vassal of theirs ingratiated into the graces and respect of the Fortemps!"
She couldn't believe her brother was behaving like this and saying what he was. "Halone's fury take you!" she threw at him as she pulled away from them both, "You both are so afraid of appearances and rumors that you are blind to everything going on outside yourselves! It was the House of Fortemps, and not the House of Dzemael, who offered succor and refuge to me and mine. They are coming! The horde comes and they give naught for nobles or the lowborn. The horde's only care for blood is the blood they can spill on our stones as they consume us! You are both blind and naïve if you think a rumor about the House de Fortemps offering aid to the Slayer of Vishap and her compatriots will be the end of our house. Fie on you both!"
"I will not have my sister, the Baroness de Baphineaux, seen taking handouts from the Fortemps! House Baphineaux is well suited to take care of our own and should assistance be needed, it will come from us and our liege house and not their rival!" Philippe exclaimed at her, trying to keep his voice low and measured but still full of emphasis.
The title of 'Baroness' startled her, throwing back into realization her father was gone. The Baron de Baphineaux had died and thus did Rhea and her twin ascend to his office. Color blanched from her as she took another step away, trying to take a deep breath and calm herself as she braced against the back of a chair. Rage fair boiled her blood in that moment, tempered only by the crashing waves of grief which threatened to drown her. Rhea was silent for a long moment as she collected her thoughts. For a mercy, her mother and brother kept their silence as they watched her like a hawk. Finally, she found her words, her words far calmer but much more hard of tone, "Had you come in and proffered the suggestion of politely refusing the Count and his generosity instead of making demands based on close-minded, petty beliefs of an antiquated system, then I would have been inclined to speak with him on that suggestion. You're right, House Baphineaux has much to offer sanctuary for the Scions in our time of need.
"However, you did not. You could have come and said that House Baphineaux would sponsor the Scions and gave a similar offer in good nature and good faith as that of the Count. Instead, you came in here and you tried to bully me into doing what you want, ignorant of the bigger picture and ignorant of the way things stand. Did you ever once stop to think that maybe I would have spoken to the Count myself when first I got the chance? Did you not think I would not write to the Count de Dzemael or visit him to ask for him to take the Scions as his wards, so that we might not burden the Count de Fortemps and put strain on the delicate matters of Ishgardian sensibilities with our presence? Perhaps even encourage some form of the Houses working together?"
She turned and looked to her mother and then her brother, "No...you did not. You just saw little Rhea, ever the unwitting puppet, to be danced around however you damned well pleased. Well no more! What I have lived through this past year, what I have done and become, has given me insight into the petty dramas and futility of house feuds. Perhaps, with that experience, I saw an opportunity to work with the House de Fortemps to better this nation and ready it for the invasion on our doorstep. I, nor any of my friends, had any intention of taking handouts from the Fortemps. Unlike some," she looked to her mother then with a look of pure derision before looking back to her brother, "I am willing to put in the hard work to make a better life for me and mine."
Philippe and Amalia both opened their mouths to speak, but she raised her hands to silence them both. "You have both shown me this evening that I have no desire to associate the Scions with such a House as you two seem intent on running things. Father would never have behaved in such a way! He would have met with the Count and worked with him to find a path forward that benefitted both Houses. It is clear the Count de Fortemps no doubt sees the benefits in having the Scions and I as his welcomed guests. For anything we might invariably do will shine wonders upon his House for taking us in. I had intended to bring father and our House into all of it, but clearly that won't be happening."
Taking a deep breath, she tried to keep her anger from getting the better of her. She was tired in ways she couldn't describe and her heart felt like it had been crushed. "As for being the Baroness de Baphineaux, first thing tomorrow I will be filing with the Vault and House Dzemael a Declaration of Abdication. It will take time, especially with father's d...death...to fully process through but, effective immediately, I will cease to be the co-ruler of our House. It will fall solely to you, Philippe and any heirs you beget. I can only hope your recent behavior is due to grief and you will run the House as it should be run, as father would have wanted you to run it."
She gave them both a brief moment to let her words sink in, "In truth, this decision has been planned for some time but with everything that has happened recently for me, I'd not had the ability or time to write to you and inform you of the decision or file the declaration. Now I am here, however, that will no longer be a problem."
"Rhe…what are you saying?" Philippe asked her as he struggled to wrap his mind around it all. "You can't just abandon your family, pull from your inheritance, as if you were throwing away a used toy."
"I'm not, Philippe," she said firmly to him. Rarely did she ever call her twin anything but 'Phi' but the fact she was using his full name denoted her sheer upset at him. "I am the Warrior of Light. Within me I carry the Blessing of Hydaelyn Herself and I am Her Chosen," she said proudly, though she made no mention or sign to the truth of the matter - that she had been stripped of her Blessing. Only a small number of people knew such a thing and most of them were either dead or presumed so.
"I have spent the last year awakening to my destiny and I assure you, it lies not with being the Baroness de Baphineaux," she said resolutely, "I am a Scion of the Seventh Dawn and as such, I cannot be dedicated to any one House, let alone any one nation. My future, my destiny, lies in protecting all of the world from things you can scarcely dream about in your worst nightmares. I have seen things, done things, been places that you cannot imagine. There are monsters far worse than even the dreadwyrm Nidhogg out there and they mean to bring Darkness to the world and snuff out any trace of Light. I will not - I cannot - stand by and dance in the spiteful farce that is the ungenerous nobility while that darkness comes ever for us. If the world falls, if Eorzea falls, so too will Ishgard.
"While I am bound here by circumstance, I intend to do everything in my power to help stop Nidhogg and, with Halone's blessing, bring an end to this war. Aside from my personal desires born of patriotism, helping Ishgard, after all, helps the realm at large. I will earn my keep as an outsider, if I must, to help rally the people of our nation to that end. When it is done though, I cannot simply take up the mantle of Baroness and cast off the vestiges of the Warrior of Light. I am who and what I am and that is not the Baroness," she said, starting to come to a close from her impassioned and firm speech.
"I intend to speak to the Count on everything, including this, but should he be amenable still once we have spoken, I intend to remain here under the banner of House Fortemps and do all to earn my keep and repay their generosity for taking in me and my friends. Should the Baron de Baphineaux," she looked to Philippe then, "in his kind heart I know he has, see fit to work with the Count de Fortemps and the Scions to work towards a more unified Ishgard in the face of the destruction of everything we hold dear, then I will do all in my power to ensure such entreaties are met with the utmost consideration. However," she looked between the two, then settled on her mother, "save for father and Jean's funeral, I have no desire to see you, in particular, ever again, unless it is in a formal capacity. Your behavior tonight has shown me you care more for your gossip and your image than you ever did for me, let alone your own husband and son. I hope you live a long life with yourself. We are done here now. I pray you both find safe travels back to our manor."
"Like hells we are!" Rhea's gaze shot to her twin, surprised that he, of all people, would burst out like that with such vehemence. "You think you're just gonna be allowed to say all of that, announce your declaration of abdication, insult mother and just…what? Walk away? No. No you will not. I will not allow it!" he said, his voice raising. Rhea just stood her ground more, squaring off against him. He knew, better than most, he would not win in a battle of wills with her.
"Yes, we are. We are very done. You will hold your tongue and walk out those doors with all the respect, grace and dignity befitting the Baron and Dowager Baroness de Baphineaux. You will give thanks to our most gracious host for welcoming you into his home so that you could reunite with me under such tragic circumstances and you will leave. There is nothing you could say or do that will change any of this, particularly my mind. Go, brother mine, before you say or do something you regret. We can speak again once cooler heads prevail," she said firmly, letting a shimmer of the ice her mother held slide over her own self.
The newly risen Baron stalked over to his sister and looked down into her eyes with a burning fury, his hand moving forward to grip her by the arm. By a mercy, her mother was too stunned and shut behind her ice to add anything to it. Rhea held Philippe's gaze firmly as they looked at each other and she let him see for himself just how done with that evening she was. His anger could nearly be touched; it pulsed off him so thickly.
He opened his mouth to speak but the doors to the drawing room were opened, interrupting him. All eyes turned to the door and a wave of relief washed over her at the sight of Haurchefant standing there. "Forgive me, my lord and ladies, but unfortunately something has come up which requires the Lady Baphineaux's immediate attention. It is in regards to your fellow Scions, my lady. I knew you would wish to be informed as soon as possible."
Rhea took a deep breath then gave a measured smile and a nod to him, "Thank you, Lord Haurchefant. You are kind to seek me immediately. We are done here."
"No, we are not," Philippe said through clenched teeth as his hand tightened painfully on Rhea's bicep.
Before she realized he'd moved, or she had a moment to respond to her brother's grip, Haurchefant was there at her side with his ever charming smile and bright expression. His eyes, though, betrayed a hardness of a man who was not to be trifled with. "The lady has expressed her desire for this reunion to end. I trust a noble gentleman such as yourself, with such a vaunted reputation as you have, would desire to retire and take respite from the cold in the comfort of his own home. We have all been through much in the last few days and we could all do with some much needed rest. Yes?"
A look exchanged between Philippe and Haurchefant and then her brother released her arm with a sharp release, giving a nod to the silver-haired knight beside her, "Capital idea, ser. Mother, let us be away and give our regards to the Count for welcoming us as guests into his home and allowing us the use of his drawing room for our reunion. Good day, Ser Greystone. Sister. "
"Lord Haurchefant, dear brother. The commander of Camp Dragonhead here is the son of the Count, after all, and thus is a lord. Surely you have not forgotten how to address a fellow member of nobility? Such a scandalous thing would be unbecoming of the new Baron de Baphineaux," she said, throwing his own words he'd used to speak ill of the man at her side back at him.
She looked at him smugly as he gave a sour smile to her then nodded to Haurchefant, "Yes, right, of course. There are so many bastards, its hard to keep track of those who have been allowed the acceptance to be called 'lord'. Forgive me, Lord Haurchefant Greystone. Such an oversight will not happen again."
Rhea clenched her jaw. Apparently, something in her posture had changed for Haurchefant stepped forward and bowed to her brother, blocking her from moving towards her brother. "Many thanks, my lord. May Halone's gaze be upon you." His tone was ever warm, welcoming and jovial and, though his words could be taken in an offensive light, he remained ever the paragon of good nature and being the better man.
He was surely a better man than her twin had apparently grown up to be in the last year.
A derisive smirk touched the corners of her twin's lips and then he left, her icy mother in tow. She didn't even look at the woman, knowing the look she would see in her chocolate depths.
By the miracle of the man at her side, they were finally gone.
Inspirational Soundtrack Song: Scotland - The Lumineers