Just in case.
Just in case, you'd done deep research into the Codex Enigma any chance you had.
Just in case, you'd kept all the parts you possibly could from the incredible machine you had to take apart deep under the Crystal Tower after saving the First from its impending doom.
Just in case, you'd kept practicing beyond mere Summoning and into proper Creation Magic once you learned that was a thing.
All of it just in case, because what if Mide was not wrong.
What if you completely understood why she wanted what she wanted.
But you kept forging on, kept fighting the good fight, kept helping your friends, kept saving the world. Because it's what you do. It's what He would do. It's what a heroine does.
None of it stops you from wondering. From working at it between bouts of carrying the hope of millions on your shoulders.
And here you stand, where she stood. About to accomplish what she could not, and very possibly doom a world in the process. For the very same reason.
Just done resummoning the most dangerous Primal to ever exist.
To your side, Nugget preens calmly while keeping a lookout. It's odd that of all the people in this world, you'll miss him the most. Poor bird has been with you through everything and more.
You did not expect to see Ardbert's soul standing there with him.
"One World for One Life, eh? I must say, you're a better Warrior of Darkness than we ever were, hero."
You stare wearily in his direction. Your eyes sting from dryness, but you're sure tears will come soon to fix that anyway.
"If you've come looking for an excuse, you will find none here."
He shrugs.
"Nay, there is no excuse needed. We all have our breaking points. You've hit yours years ago. If anything, I am surprised it took until now for everything to come to a head."
You stare at the gigantic construct towering above the Thaliak River. A patchwork of the original being, supplanted with future Ironworks technology. An abomination, by all
accounts. 'Tis only right, for the purpose it will serve.
"Your dedication to going above and beyond is as impressive as always. Even when you've finally found a selfish bone in your body."
Your tail flicks to the side annoyedly, not deigning the apparition with the honour of being looked at again.
"Have you finished your babbling?" You open the lock at the machine's claw, steam hissing from within. "I have a world to end."
He crosses his arms, smiling. "Come now, there is no point being cross at a dead man." Ardbert stares at you in concern. "You are still in control of enough of your faculties to know that, right? That I'm not even his soul anymore, just a figment of your imagination?"
He gets no answer.
"Oh well. Go on then. Before the others come and make this worse."
You step inside the halls of steel and steam, the final steps before this madness is complete. A familiar, curious titter comes from your side, big innocent black eyes staring at you.
"Nugs. You- You know what I'm about to do here, don't you, friend? Do you truly want to take part in this?"
Nugget Kweh's excitedly, gently rubbing his beak against one of your horns.
With a smile that actually reaches your eyes for once, you pet his neck, his happy crooning soothing your nerves.
"Alright boy. Let's go make things right."
Outside, Ardbert's form dissolves into darkness, taking your semblance, but clad in heavy armour; its glowing red eyes even brighter than your own.
"I'm proud of you."
You feel the ebb and flow of time pass you by like a wind on your travel through the aethereal seas, a moment or an eternity having the same meaning of none. The one thing that gets your attention is a pull on your soul, a crystalline blue light leading you to Her.
The 'Mothercrystal' towers in front of you, holding you in place gently.
"What art thee doing, mine child?"
The once calming ethereal voice now sends pure, fiery indignation running through your veins. At first, only your fists can clench, but within a moment, your inner light overpowers Hers, and you feel once more in control of your own body.
"What is thy purpose with such destruction? What doth thee seeketh?"
An unbidden growl escapes your lips, as you force your Will upon Hers.
"I would be inclined to answer if you were not the most disappointing of all my creations. I am fixing what you have failed to. The demise of that world is in your hands, Primal."
You wait a second to hear its response, but get none. 'Tis almost if the being is wounded by your words. Even the subtle push of her will on your being is no more.
Good.
You regain your composure, though the disdain in your voice is none the lesser.
"Now heel. I have sometime to be."
The bitter wind of Coerthas assaults your senses, the sun blinding in its reflection on the snow. A mix of panic and fear assaults your body, almost foreign in its intensity.
You don't remember feeling the world go sideways, but you notice the sting of the snow against your scales while you try to breathe, try to not throw up from the nausea.
Nugget is at your side, warbling in concern, even if he can barely stay standing himself. You should probably hug him at some point. You both need it.
"Are you alright?!"
The face that slowly fills your vision is familiar in its shape, but near forgotten in its youth. The innocent yet overconfident boy, in wholly unsuited wear for the bitter cold.
You laugh. You laugh of panic, of joy, perhaps of sheer madness. Alphinaud seems quite concerned. 'Tis probably a good idea to be.
"Need a hand up, lass?"
A firm grip pulls you to your feet. Your clothes are here. Your weapon is here. Even Nugs has the barding you last had on him. In fact, you feel no different at all than before.
Barely suppressed panic notwithstanding.
You know this road. It leads north, from the Observatorium to Camp Dragonhead. Where He is.
He should be. He has to be.
"What happened there?"
'I've annihilated an entire world to be with my lover again, including you and Cid over there. Honestly, Hades would be proud. Mayhap I can apply for part-time Ascian.'
Of course, to actually say that would be preposterous. One might even think you'd gone completely mad.
Perish the thought.
"Just the Echo."
You snap a canteen into existence, spilling the rest into your faithful companion's open beak after having had enough to clear your thoughts. Properly situating yourself in time is perhaps a good idea. 'Tis not like the two will think you more queer than they already do by now for it.
From one of the pockets of your ornate robe, you produce the one thing that has been your lifesaver since the start of it all; a simple notepad and shard of graphite.
Your (admittedly, forever atrocious) handwriting stares back at you. 'Bring Francel's letter to Lord of Camp Dragonhead; inquire about airship.'
It worked.
If Haurchefant is still there. If he even is the same person. If you don't come across as a raving lunatic. Who even are you in this world? Clearly not whom you were the last time. More powerful, for starters. Wiser too, you'd hope. Certainly more unhinged.
You were fairly certain your first encounter with Garuda did not involve Akh Morns.
Questions for later.
Right now, the southern gate guards looked decidedly nervous at your approach. It takes you much longer than it should to remember why.
Au Ra. Middle of Dragonsong War. Right.
This will be fun to navigate all over again.
Oh, you could vaporize the poor fools with half a handwave, undoubtedly. But that would not really accomplish anything towards your real goal. If your memory serves, the kind and caring Haurchy would not appreciate having to recover a pair of his underlings with a shovel.
So you hang back and let Alphinaud ply his trade, and before long you are out of the blasted cold that threatens to freeze your tail solid and crossing the gates to the main hall.
Piercing blue meets fierce red. You cannot stop shivering as one, single thought overwhelms your mind and soul.
'He's here. He's here, he's here, he's here-'
'-She's here.'
Your body acts before your brain does, respectfully bowing before approaching and handling her the letter adorned with the seal of House Haillenarte.
You haven't blinked yet while she reads the missive, expression darkening halfway through before easing into a determined outlook, the one of a woman with a task ahead of her.
"Thank you for assisting Francel in this matter, my friend. I fear these accusations will be an issue for some time yet, but this is a start. Ah! But I forget myself! I believe there is a pressing issue you require help with?"
That smile. That godsdamned smile. The voice is so similar, too. The hair is longer, but still has the same disheveled bangs that perfectly frame those eyes that threaten to pull you in and never let go.
Why must your stomach feel like the fields of Carteneau. Why must your heart constrict like it was under the weight of the world.
She's still called Haurchefant.
She's still wearing the same gambeson covered with chainmail that you remember. She's still the Lord of Camp Dragonhead, it seems.
You furrow your brows in thought. Lord of Camp Dragonhead. And if your Elezen naming customs don't fail you, Haurchefant is a male name. Either there is something else at play here, or Ishgardian politics in this world are completely upside down.
"Friend? Is something amiss?"
There is that same adorable raised eyebrow like the one you knew so well. Thinking about it, 'tis not like you find the thought of being with her objectionable, rather the oppos- Right.
Actually answer the damn woman, would you?
"Oh! I-uh, my apologies. I am merely not used to the weather yet."
You let out a sheepish smile before rubbing your face to clear your thoughts. In the defense of your bare-faced lie, your shaking could easily be misconstrued as such. Thank the Twelve for small miracles.
Then again, aren't the Twelve based on the Convocation? Wouldn't you be an unofficial member of Eorzea's pantheon?
Yet more questions for later.
"By the Fury, where are my manners!? You go out of your way to help a personal friend and I lack the courtesy to do naught but watch you freeze!"
You watch in wonderment as she gets up and brings a chair to place near hers, by the warmth of the hearth of the hall. Just like he did so many years ago, down to the same look of self-indignation on her face.
Yes, you can work with this.
There is naught that can stop the heat rising to your cheeks and your heart when she hands you her own mug of hot chocolate once you're seated, with a disarming smile to go with it. If there were any doubt that she held the same kind soul of the man you so loved, none can be had now.
"I am looking for the Enterprise. It's an airship that was last seen on the eve of the Battle of Carteneau, our sources indicate it likely crashed around this area."
Voice cracks kept to a minimum, you can do this.
"Hmm. I fear it might prove difficult to find eyewitnesses to the event, given that Ishgard was involved in its own issues at the time. Nevertheless! I'll make inquiries and share with you aught I learn."
No. Don't start crying yet, for gods's sake, she just met you.
"In the meantime, enjoy the hospitality of Camp Dragonhead, my friend! I shall make sure everyone is clear with that whole 'being terrified of you being a Dravanian' business."
And here comes that genuine, 'I will do my best for you to be happy to the extent of my abilities and beyond' smile. Does it look even better on her face? How does it look even better on her face?
Godsdamnit. You need to find an excuse to leave. Now.
"I will make myself useful in the meantime, then!"
You smile back, doing your best to keep your tears in. You can't just leave like that though. Not when your heart is screaming at you.
But you can at least do so while already turned around so you don't completely break down.
"And Haurchefant? Thank you."
You'll just find something to do outside. If your memory doesn't fail you, there should be plenty of people needing help with assorted tasks around the camp. Where your heart isn't shouting at you to grip that woman's chainmail and never let go.
Nugget's curious cry brings you out of your inner thoughts while coming back to the camp from one of tasks you managed to find to keep yourself busy.
To your side, a figure clad in black rides her own chocobo. One that looks exactly like your own companion. You smile.
Figures than even Esteem would ride just a normal copy of Nuggs. There is no dark side to the lovable thing, only care.
"All in all, I'd say it worked out pretty well. Didn't think you'd be such a gay disaster though."
And of course that taunting grin is back on her face. Why wouldn't it.
"What did you expect me to do? Not be attracted to Haurchefant just because she's a bit different this time around? You know as well as I do that his appearance was only ever a bonus."
You dislike raising your voice to be heard over the wind and crunch of the snow. You always did, for any reason.
"If I remember quite right, and I do, you did enjoy riding that girthy bonus until passing out."
You don't bother looking back at her. You know she's grinning even wider now.
"Not like he needed it, even! Maybe you'll be fine after all, if the times he made you scream his name while you near on suffocated him with your legs is anything like the
skills she has."
Heat very much rises to both your cheek and below your stomach at both the memories and implications, but you refuse to validate her teasings with a response.
"Then again, perhaps…"
You don't like that tone. It's too self-satisfied.
"Perhaps what?"
You expected to see that cheshire grin, but it doesn't annoy you any less.
"Nothing, just a hunch. But if I am right-"
You shake your head in dismay.
"Have you come for the sole purpose of discussing indecencies?"
Her smile vanishes.
"Nay. How are you holding up, girl?"
You take your time wondering about that yourself. And to be frank, you are…
Fine. At least, better than you have been in years. You have an actual goal other than 'Do what people want me to do.' After having murdered millions.
This probably makes you a hypocrite of some sort. And honestly, right now? You don't care.
"Good. Also?"
You look back at her.
"I love you. Never forget that."
You watch her visage disappear into the air. Truly, you do remember that. 'Tis probably why you're even here in the first place, is it not?
"So, that is where we currently stand. Shouldn't take more than a day or two for Lord Haurchefant's inquiries to be complete, we will see what our next course of action is then."
You watch Alphinaud's usual tick of holding his chin and tilting his head down in thought. Only now tinted by unearned confidence once more.
"'Tis a shame the Echo is so fickle in its activations. Are you quite sure you cannot will it to work? The weather in this place is truly horrendous."
In all fairness, he does have a point, even if an unknowing one. You remember all of this. You know the Enterprise lies deep inside the Stone Vigil. Hells, you're not even sure the whole debacle with the corrupted crystals is even necessary. If push comes to shove, your Garuda-Egi should be able to open you a passage to the Howling Eye.
Right now even, if you so wished.
But you do not. For one, the more you change events from the ones you knew, the less said knowledge avails you in the future. Past. Future-past.
Semantics.
For two, you know Haurchefant is here, minor differences notwithstanding, and it would take a truly cataclysmic event for you to forgo this opportunity. The Lady of the Vortex can wait.
Lost in your musings as you so often are, it almost passes you by the fact that Alphinaud was more or less whingeing at you to 'get on with it'.
The arrogant little twerp.
"That is not. How. The Echo. Works."
You feel an unhealthy amount of satisfaction at how he would fall backwards if he cowered back any more at your advance. The intentional growling subtones in your voice probably helped.
So did the aetherial wings of your improved Dreadwyrm Trance extending to your sides, which you have just noticed. As likely did the entire camp. Is that Haurchefant you just noticed staring at you from near the doors to the main hall?
Bollocks.
You sigh in defeat. This is starting to become a right mess.
"Anyroad. I have goods to deliver and reports to make. I suggest you take a page out of my book and make yourself useful, like Cid has. I am sure they could do with more firewood."
Despite some wary glances and shaking hands, the residents of Dragonhead seem surprisingly calm after your little display. You can only guess Haurchefant truly managed to put them at ease regarding your looks.
Comparatively, of course.
The winds are picking up with the fall of the light however, and your scales already itch from how dry they are getting.
Might as well go talk to her and get out of this weather. Not like you truly needed an excuse, but at least this way you have one if needed.
The hall of Camp Dragonhead is more empty than usual, likely on account of supper being served over at the kitchens. And true to the form you know, Haurchefant is so deep in paperwork that she likely did not even notice it.
"May I be of help, Milord?"
You're already smiling. Of course you're already smiling. Dear gods, Esteem was right.
"Ah, the gallant adventurer returns from her journey! Take a seat my friend. I am afraid all the help I can accept at the moment is your company. Though I have a proposition for you, if you'll indulge me later."
No. Bad imagination. Stay. You are fully aware that's not what she meant.
Apparently that doesn't mean you won't blush anyway.
You deliberately place your chair close to hers. She doesn't seem to mind. It's not like you want to interrupt her work either. So this is fine. Then again, all is fair and love and war, so nothing ventured, nothing gained.
And you do need to get this done anyway.
You don't specifically need to be so deliberate in applying oil to your exposed scales and tail, but having Haurchefant constantly stealing mesmerized looks your way is too good to pass up. You stop yourself from grinning in victory.
Just about.
"Scented Linseed Oil."
You watch her jolt to attention. It's nice knowing that even on another timeline, the effect is the same.
"My apologies, what?"
"What I use, for my scales. You seemed interested."
Fine, you are grinning just a little bit.
"Oh, no! I didn't intend to make you uncomfortable, friend. 'Tis just, I have never seen one of your kind in person before. I am unfamiliar with your rituals."
Her embarrassment does get a chuckle out of you. Gods, how you missed this. Just being with Haurchefant.
"You did not, at all. Our scales merely need oiling to stay supple, especially in this sort of weather. Otherwise, they get dry and scratchy, which can be very uncomfortable. Here-"
You see the blush slowly creeping up her cheeks when you take off one of her gloves and guide her fingers to the scales on your wrist. Oh, this is far too precious.
"I have always imagined them to be much harder, like a Dravanian's."
"Nay, most are not. That's not to say they can't be. These, for example-"
You turn around in your chair enough to show the spiked scales that cover the beginning of the top of your tail.
"-are hard and sharp enough to rend skin. But they're few and far between. In contrast, the ones on the underside are even softer than average."
You position said underside of the tail within her arm's reach. Haurchefant's touch is gentle, like if she were handling the finest of glasswork.
"They are each so small and soft, 'tis almost like touching skin."
You bite your finger to not get carried away by the sensation. Your voice still comes out on the indecent side of breathy.
"They are also more sensitive than average."
Your hand hides your self-satisfied smile at the sight of her blush near-instantly going from 'mild' to 'up to ears'. Those beautiful, slender, sensitive ears. Somewhere in the back of your mind, Esteem is torn between agreeing and groaning.
"Pray forgive me, I was not aware! I-"
You pat her hand which had recoiled in a seeming mix of urgency and reluctance.
"There is nothing to forgive, my friend. You did not hurt me at all."
The innocence behind your smile is so false, you could probably run for a public office somewhere. You do feel slightly guilty for being a bit manipulative, but on the other hand, you scant had many chances to make Haurchefant act like that the first time around. 'Tis fun.
Gods know you haven't experienced that in years.
Your musings are interrupted by a growling sound coming from your silver-haired beau's stomach best described as 'tectonic'. You could probably do with a meal as well, none the less for the energy that is spent in this region merely staying warm.
"By the Fury, what time is it?"
You take a small measure of pride at watching her finally notice that the hall is mostly empty and berating herself for missing supper once again. That must mean your shameless flirting is at least as distracting as paperwork.
Truly the highest praise. Time to take responsibility for your evil deeds.
"Fear not Milord, I shall embark on a quest for sustenance! I am an adventurer, after all!"
You smile at your own flourish, an uncharacteristic spring in your step as you make your way out. Simply enjoying being a maiden in love not a day after genociding an entire timeline. 'Tis a very good thing you are seemingly too broken to feel conflicted about that.
"Please friend, there is no need! I am able to find something once I'm done with-"
The realization that she'd made no progress with her current task in the last Halone knows how many minutes slowly sinks in.
"-if I am done with this yet tonight. Adventurer does not mean servant!"
You turn towards Haurchefant while walking backwards, genuine, if probably unhinged, joy gracing your features.
"'Tis true, I need not do this. I merely wish to."
And that is the most important thing in the world.
Just as you remember from many a night before, Medguistl had kept a hearty portion of food warm for the forgetful young Lord. 'Would that she followed her own advice', was still her usual complaint. Your heart is warmed when you find that she'd also set a portion aside for you.
''Twould be the manners of a goat if I did not offer someone who worked her tail off to help Dragonhead as soon as she arrived at least a decent meal.'
That is how you find yourself dining at Haurchefant's side, though you suspect were she not forcing herself to eat at a reasonable pace for matters of etiquette, her supper would be long gone. As for yourself, the usual fare of Dragonhead held more of a sentimental value than anything else.
Not to disrespect the cook of course; that woman did wonders with the supplies available at all times. Ishgardian cooking was just never your favourite. Lacked variety and spices.
Mayhaps that was your Bismark-trained culinarian side talking. Hopefully you'd be able to put it to use for Haurchefant; you never quite got the chance before. Half of the reason you took up the ladle was a way to forget your sorrows after-
-after he died. Not that it helped much anyroad.
Ironic that 'The stomach is the path to a man's heart' is the saying. It should work for a woman too.
That stray thought brings back the questions from before. If you were going to dive back into this mess that is Ishgard, might as well get things sorted out beforehand. Plus, in the meantime since you last looked, she was just about done eating.
"Say, Lord Haurchefant? May I ask a possibly awkward question?"
Oh bloody hells there's that thousand suns smile again. Stupid handsome Elezen.
"Only if you drop the 'Lord' part, friend. You are not one of my underlings, as much as that would make the camp many a time more efficient, judging by the day's reports; you are my equal, and I wish you to treat me as such."
Blast your infatuated heart with a Dragonkiller. If stopping yourself from tackling the woman with an embrace wasn't hard enough already.
"I could not help but notice that you hold that title, however. While I am no expert in Ishgardian culture, is Haurchefant not a traditionally male name? Pray do not take this as doubt of your abilities, but mere curiosity. Was I wrong to believe that your culture leans towards patriarchal?"
Your slight trepidation at offending her is soothed by her earnest smile.
"I do not at all, friend! Truth be told, I am surprised you did not ask sooner. 'Tis a lesser known quirk of Ishgardian genetics, supposed by our scholars to be due to our long periods of isolation. While I myself am scant on specifics, the results are people of seemingly mixed sex. I was assigned male at birth thanks to my-"
She seems to be somewhat embarrassed at the realization that she's explaining this to someone not of Ishgard. On your part, you are listening enrapturedly.
"-well, that part. Only when I began to come of age did my female side develop, and by then it would be a rather big hassle to redo all the necessary paperwork. That came with some benefits, of course."
Somewhere, deep inside your soul, you can hear maniacal cackling. You merely nod to yourself as the pieces of the puzzle fall in place before smiling back.
"I see. I must admit, that aspect of Ishgardian culture was completely foreign to me until now. Still, I am happy we have both learned about eachother tonight Haurchefant."
You make sure to throw in a classic 'adjust lock of hair behind ear'. Well, horn in your case. Truly, while it wasn't necessarily what you expected-
-and will you shut up, Esteem-
-'tis not like you mind at all. For all that truly matters, she could have nothing at all between the legs and you'd still wish to spend eternity at her side.
"So am I! Ah, but ere I forget! I was hoping to proposition you for aid in a small matter. Your magicks, they are based on arcanima, are they not?"
You are glad to see her good cheer back; something about seeing uncertainty in her eyes felt very troubling. Mayhaps because 'twas such a rare thing in the past. To answer her question, however, you gently flip open your latest incantation book of choice. With but a wave of your hand; Emerald comes into being atop the table.
And immediately tries to steal the piece of meat you still had left for dinner. Quickly stabbing it with your fork, a pitched battle of will and pulling commences. Master versus Creation, for the last piece of steak.
"Fascinating!"
The soft touch of Haurchefant's hand stroking its head is enough to get the attention of the little devil. It seems to freeze for a while after looking at the young Lord, carefully sniffing her hand.
Before throwing themselves at their lap, keening loudly and rubbing their head against the startled Elezen in a near frenzy.
Mayhap it would have been best to remember that Emerald was always the aetherial creation that most mirrored your feelings. If anything, seeing how vehement it was in its display of affection only made your heart sting further.
Gods, how you wished you could simply do the same. To hold back like you were doing felt akin to a knife stuck in your heart. You manage to hold back your tears with a forced smile, though your voice is still noticeably choked.
"'Twould seem she likes you."
Thankfully, Haurchefant seems too distracted by the small being to notice. In truth, you want to tell her everything. To not have to pretend you have just met, to just be able to be held by her, be enveloped in her scent, her warmth-
-Stop. Stop or you'll make yourself cry again. Godsdamnit, why must you feel more emotions in a day than the last 4 years? 'Tis exhausting.
"So she does!"
Is that-
Is she giggling while petting Emerald?
The thought strikes you. You have never, ever heard Haurchefant giggle before. It is truly a beautiful sound, like bells in a crisp snowy morning. So this is what Esteem really wished to see.
You falling in love with this woman. Not because she's Haurchefant, but because she's herself. Oh, for sure, they have many a similarity. 'Tis the same soul after all. But she's not him.
And gods forbid-
That's fine.
Story Cover by the amazing Moogiedaisuki on twitter.