"Artoirel?" Edmont disentangled his fingers and took a step closer to his son, worry etching a frown onto his features. "Is everything well?"

Artoirel nodded, a fitful, frantic movement that betrayed Edmont more about his state than any words could have.

"Yes, pray do not worry, Father," he mustered at last, his voice strained and leaden. "I am sorry for barging in on you, I did not mean to intrude."

Oh, so that was what had him ill at ease.

"Ah, no." Edmont mustered a wan smile before he could no longer keep up the pretense and swivelled back towards the portrait. He had never been one prone to melancholy, but everything had changed after Haurchefant's death. Yet, could you call his state of mind 'melancholy' at all? The grief one bore for outliving one's own child… No, there was no word that measured up to this emptiness, that could capture the pain and hopelessness that ate away at his very soul. "I was just… On days like this I…"

He paused, a jagged breath tearing from his throat. Oh, how he hated being old, being immobile and dependent - being unable to…

"I wish I could visit his grave," he blurted out. Silence followed his words and he squeezed his eyes shut, unable to bear Haurchefant's radiant smile beaming down at him any longer. "I have… Did you know I haven't been there since the funeral?"

He cringed, chastising himself when the misleading implication of his statement registered with him.

"Not because I didn't want to!" he hastened to clarify. "The way is too far for me is all."

He studied the intricate pattern of the carpet beneath his feet, the weight of the room heavy on his shoulders.

"I could hire a chocobo carriage, of course, but I do not… I do not wish to stand at my son's grave with someone waiting at the bottom of the hill for me to finish up mourning so they can finally take me back home."

He nearly laughed out loud at the thought. What a preposterous idea... To 'hurry' mourning as not to inconvenience anyone for too long. As if he could just pause his grief, his anguish and guilt like it was a… a pastime activity. And yet, not going to the gravesite at all meant he deserted Haurchefant, meant not paying tribute to his son even in death.

A hand settled on his shoulder and Edmont found himself face to face with his eldest. Artoirel's mien was pain-stricken, but his blue eyes were warm with understanding and compassion.

"Do not blame yourself, Father," he implored. "In your heart, you're with him, I know that."

Edmont gave a reluctant nod.

"Still… It feels like I'm betraying him all over again, am I not? How can I not go see my son's grave on Starlight's Eve?"

Artoirel withdrew his hand, unable to hold Edmont's gaze any further. His shoulders slumped and he took a step backwards, almost as if to flee.

"I am sorry, Father," he whispered. Edmont startled.

"Pardon me?" He frowned. Why would Artoirel apologise? "Haurchefant's death was not your fault."

Artoirel shook his head. The motion was stiff and disturbingly slow.

"No, not that…" He balled his hands, his voice cracking. "I'm sorry it wasn't me!"

A bottomless hole opened below Edmont and swallowed him, threw him into a pitch-black darkness. He stumbled back, unable to make sense of the absurdity that had been thrust at him.

"What? No! I… I… Do you genuinely believe I would have wanted you - either of you - to die in Haurchefant's place!?"

He gasped, clutching the back of Haurchefant's desk chair for halt. His head spun. Had he seriously made his sons believe he would choose Haurchefant over them? And Artoirel at that! Accomplished, magnificent Artoirel. How could he ever think that? Edmont had heard many a people secretly whisper behind his back that it was a shame Emmanellain hadn't died in Haurchefant's stead. The tattle had filled him with powerless rage. How could anyone claim that one of his sons was more deserving of death than his brothers, that he would have sacrificed one of his sons for another! He had always feared for Emmanellain to learn of this gossip, knowing he would never be able to extinguish the flamelet of self-doubt it would kindle in Emmanellain's heart, but for Artoirel to doubt himself like that... He had not expected that.

His mind muddled, Edmont raised his gaze. Artoirel still refused to meet his eyes, still trembled - still blamed himself.

"I made his life miserable," Artoirel forced out, the words barely audible above the roaring in Edmont's ears. "I snubbed him at every opportunity I saw fit, always let him feel he didn't belong with us. There wasn't a day on which I didn't go out of my way to demonstrate how much I despised him."

With a strength he did not know he still had, Edmont pushed himself off the chair and clasped Artoirel's shoulders.

"No! No, son, don't say that!" he commanded, the proper demeanour of a former count replaced by that of a desperate father. "You did not approve of your brother, but you never hurt him, I know that."

Artoirel winced, Edmont's love and trust in him only seeming to torment him further.

"Not with sticks nor stones," he acknowledged, "but with my words and deeds I did. How is that any less condemnable? Haurchefant was a true knight of Ishgard, a man everyone could have been proud to call their brother. Yet I resented him..."

Edmont tightened his grasp and shook Artoirel once - slightly, but enough to make him listen.

"Do not tear yourself apart for things that were not your fault," he demanded. "You were a child when I brought him home! I cannot fault your mother for rejecting him, Gods know it was my mistake to begin with, and I cannot fault you for following her lead."

"But I am no child anymore, am I?" Artoirel countered wretchedly. Edmont nodded without hesitation.

"Tis true, and you don't resent Haurchefant any longer, do you?"

That reduced Artoirel to silence. Edmont released him and turned back towards the painting.

"Pray make no mistake, Artoirel, I understand full well how you feel," he assured. "But you were his brother. I was his father. It was my duty to keep him safe, to raise him happy. But I failed him…"

He chuckled, a humorless, bleak sound that sounded wrong even to his own ears.

"And now I cannot even visit his grave. I'm abandoning him all over again…"

"Father, if there's one thing I can say with certainty, it's that you never abandoned Haurchefant!"

Edmont startled. Despite Artoirel's grief and guilt, his words were full of determination.

"You never denied him your home or your love. We both know how some of your peers handled similar situations - Mistress Hilda is only one of countless examples of those less fortunate than Haurchefant. You loved Haurchefant, and he knew that, Father."

Edmont smiled at him again, his eyes teary, though he could not tell whether they were tears of joy or of pain.

"Thank you, my son, I…"

"And now pray put on a warmer coat, Father," Artoirel ordered. Edmont arched his eyebrows. A grim smirk played about Artoirel's lips.

"We're going to visit Haurchefant's grave - no, do not oppose. I understand that it's not the same as if you could go there on your own, but surely you'd feel more at ease with me accompanying you rather than a servant? I promise I will wait - out of sight if you wish - and I will not secretly pray for you to hurry, no matter how long your stay. Starlight celebration is a time for families, and with our family we shall spend it."