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headcanons-n-shit · 1 year

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*hope i did this right*… so about the husbandos of XIV’s nighttime routines (I.E, what they do before bed, what they do in their sleep, etc) (bonus is Magnai)

Thancred

is a paranoid little bastard, in time of war and in times of peace. Don't bother waiting for him to come to bed, he's going to take 15-30 minutes checking and rechecking that all the doors are locked, all the windows are secured, all your traps and wards are in place, whether you're camping in the wilds or staying in an inn room or relaxing in your house. Just indulge him, please, he's not going to sleep well otherwise.

Urianger

also takes a little bit to get into bed, but at least this time you get a show while he does his work. All of those fiddly bits of jewelry have to come off at some point. The chains of his belt, first, carefully unclasped and laid out on the nightstand. All of his bracelets and bracers next, alongside his dozen rings. He fiddles with his gorget for the longest time, where the clasp has bent and he hasn't bothered to see a goldsmith about fixing it.

(Helping him doesn't actually make his routine go any faster-- you two are very good at distracting each other)

G'raha

doesn't so much have a "nightly" routine as he has a "remembers that bodily functions are a thing and passes out" routine. Spending a hundred years being sustained by a tower of crystal aether does funny things to someone's head. You very much become his routine, gently coaxing him away from his work with the promise of food and good company. Keep it up for long enough and he will eventually start seeking you out before you have to carry his sleeping form out of the library.

Estinien

tends to slip in well after you and the world have already fallen asleep. A soldier for so long, he's too used to keeping the oddest hours, the grueling second-watch while his fellow Knights slept, the long stretches alone in the snow with no one by his side to watch the skies for him. You tend to wake to the sound of him doffing his Drachen mail, usually sometime after the armet but before the breastplate, though unless you're determined you tend to fall back to sleep before he has finished combing out his hair.

Aymeric

probably has the most luxurious nighttime routine. Lucia bullies him out of his office at a certain time of night with threats of violence if she catches him working again before morning, so he has learned to fill the time taking care of himself. Let him coax you into a warm bath, a cup of tea in front of the fire, watching him unmake his walls brick by brick for you until you're laying together in bed, giggling like schoolgirls.

Haurchefant

can't help but walk the walls one last time before bed. is he in his nightclothes? yes. Is it well below freezing outside? yes, darling, stay in bed, he'll be back soon. Just one quick lap of Camp Dragonhead, with the promise of a warm room, a warm bed-- the thoughts of you to keep him company, if you are not there with him.

Sidurgu

How many times has Fray have you caught him sleeping standing up? leaning against the wall, against the door, against a tree? the tension, the stress, lingering in every line of his face, until you wake him by smoothing them away with the gentle passing of your thumbs.

It's better, now that you two have Rielle. He takes the time to tuck her in, always. Reads to her, sometimes, although other times you can catch him telling her stories in the language of the Steppe. Rielle is always happy when you join them-- and Sidurgu is too, once he's done being embarrassed about it.

BONUS

Magnai

does not sleep easily. For all he is the Most Radiant Sun, he is also very much a night person. He will sit awake for hours, sleep slipping from his grasp as he watches the moon make her lazy arc across the sky. The new moon is the loneliest night of the month, without the light of N'haama to keep him company.

(It doesn't take much for you to lure him into the furs, however-- what other moon does he need, when you are right there?)

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adair-kiba · 1 year

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(copy/paste with some extra bits from my twt circle, very short Ori story)

When Ori was old enough to start understanding that he had a father but he's not alive anymore so he can never meet him, it sparked so much curiosity about who he was!

Adair started telling him stories of their adventures together at bedtime instead of fairy tales, and Ori wanted to know what he looked like, and what it felt like to spend time with him. Adair said "He looked a lot like you, but without the scales or tail. And he was the friendliest person you'd ever meet, always smiling and encouraging others to be their best!" but Ori kept asking, saying he wished he could see him for real.

So Adair thought an outing was in order.

As a first stop, Adair took him to the memorial overlooking Ishgard, and told him how it was his father's favorite spot. Ori could feel the wind cutting through his sweater, but he did like how small the city looked from so far away. He understood the spot must have been special to his parents and felt a reverence for it.

"Is this where father is?" Ori asked, eyeing the tombstone.

Adair hesitated for a moment. "In a way, maybe. This place was his favorite spot to come think. And now, it's where people who loved him come to think about him."

Ori looked down and the flowers next to the stone, absorbing his dad's words.

"If you mean to ask, 'Is he buried here?', no, he's not. His body was laid to rest in the Fortemps family mausoleum." Ori looked up at Adair quizzically. "But I like to think," Adair continued, "your father lives on in the hearts of the people who loved him. The soldiers you'll meet today, Grandpa Edmont and your uncles, the Haillenarte siblings... and you and me." Adair looked down at Ori's awestruck face with a kind smile.

Ori thought about this for a long moment, holding onto his dad's tail when a particularly strong gust of wind nearly had him lose his balance.

Adair barely caught Ori's small words over the wind "...but I still want to meet him."

He knelt down, pulling his son into a proper hug. "You can't meet him face to face," he said, looking into Ori's now teary eyes. "But you can get to know him by spending time with people who loved him. Ask questions about him, many would be happy to tell you stories." Ori beamed at that idea, sniffling his tears away.

So Adair took Ori to visit Camp Dragonhead and pointed out the portrait hanging there. He encouraged him to talk to the soldiers, many of who still remembered Haurchefant as if he was just there yesterday. Ori was excited to meet so many people who remembered Haurchefant as a friend! The soldiers perked up at having a chance to talk and play with Haurchefant's child as well, and the chilly stone hall radiated a lighthearted warmth.

In the coming months, Ori kept asking to go visit his dad's picture every day. Adair or Edmont or sometimes Emmanellain would take him whenever they could. He'd have a nice time making friends with the soldiers there and eventually became like a little mascot for them.

Then one harsh winter Ori caught a terrible cold and couldn't go visit his father's picture and friends at Camp Dragonhead for quite a while.

As a friend of Adair's from Scion business, Alphinaud had heard of how much Ori loved to visit his father, and he sketched Ori a picture of Haurchefant that he could keep in his room while he was recovering. The soldiers from Camp Dragonhead sent him little gifts too, wishing him well.

When he was well enough to come visit again, the soldiers hosted a big dinner just like Haurchefant loved to have, full of music and warm drinks and laughter. Ori had a blast! And Adair felt like Haurchefant was right there beside him, sharing in their son's joy, and Adair's.

(idk enough about kids to know how old ori should be here. do kids understand death and people existing before they were born by 3 years old? or is that a more difficult concept? I'm kinda imagining him at about 5 or 6 here, old enough to be curious about the world and people..? as of post endwalker he's just turned 3, so this is quite a while after that probably. he's been to camp Dragonhead before, but was always too enchanted by the chocobos to learn much about the people around him.)

#adair kiba ffxiv #adair lore #ori lore

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xiakha · 3 years

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FFXIVWrite2021 Prompt #21 - Feckless

Edmont de Fortemps often wondered what the history books would have to say about Emmanellain. He wondered if they would be too harsh on the boy.

Sure, it was still early in his life, but there were worrying habits. Womanizing, carousing most nights of the week, sleeping through his studies and hardly passing, leaving everything to his page, never lifting a sword when he could avoid it, never participating in a single battle in the whole of the Dragonsong War, it was the lot of the second heir, and to be expected, possibly. Most likely the annals of history would damn by faint praise, Emmanellain would appear as a footnote in passing on a page, overshadowed by the more prestigious members of his cohort and family. Edmont hoped that taking up responsibility, of sorts, at Camp Dragonhead would do him a world of good.

For Edmont was writing a history book, of sorts. Having finished his Chronicles of the Dragonsong War, he turned his eye to Ishgardian history and reconciling the revelations now revealed with a thousand years of lies and false cause and blood spilt in the name of prior blood. Oh, there were already calls to expunge his writings, that he was a heretic and a revisionist, a rot within Ishgard's walls that ate away at the very foundations of the city and would see the city crumble to ruin.

But in the upcoming years, in which sons and daughters came home and were not lost afield, in which the open wounds scabbed over and the scars faded, in which the peace between dragon and man would be seen as the norm, would they still be out to slander his name or cause? Perhaps a new threat would arise to shake the stones of the city, or perhaps the slow and precarious process of healing would fail, as sometimes it did a patient on the chirurgeon's slab. How would history judge Emmanellain then?

How would history judge Edmont?

For, though he saw much of their respective mothers in Artoirel and Haurchefant, he could only see himself in Emmanellain.

Edmont de Fortemps was the second son born and third in line of succession. He was never supposed to amount to anything besides, perhaps, a tragic tale of a soldier lost to dragonfire. Thus he spent his days as he wished, numbered that he knew them to be. He had a great many friends in the Scholasticate despite being brought up by House Fortemps tutors, and drank with them whenever possible.

But then his eldest sister, second in line, decided to marry her beloved in House Haillenarte to a certain amount of scandal, and then his eldest brother, Scion to House Fortemps, fell in battle, a battle in which Edmont ran in terror while his eldest brother held the line in his place.

Oh, but none would know that awful truth, and Edmont, having had his knee shattered by fall while narrowing avoiding a swooping dragon in his flight, was lauded a hero and the sole survivor to one of the bloodiest battles in recent memory. It was here that Edmont realized that, awfully, history was told by those left to tell it. Often the victors. Sometimes just the survivors. His traitorous tongue, thinking only to save his own skin and preserve the House Fortemps name, told a harrowing tale of disaster and sacrifice that there was no one left to dispute. And so it was that, in the span of five moons, he went from third in line to first.

There were many things that had to be done, especially as he recovered. His beloved was sent away to Camp Dragonhead so that he could properly court women of a similar breeding. He had to pick up his studies and learn all the ways of the Count. He had to. There was no more running away from these responsibilities to be done, especially with his knee mending as poorly as it did, and his guilt, the awful truth that he could never tell and the story that he told instead, bound him to this duty.

His affair made his wife send his beloved to Dusk Vigil, where she perished in a dragon attack. He did not blame his wife, he could only blame his own infidelity. He could not bear to watch his beloved's child run around the manor, so guilt ridden he was, but he also did everything in his power to provide for the child, leading to more bitter feelings and accusations of favoritism. And he wondered if the extra stress he caused lead his sickly wife to her early grave.

None of this of course was made public. There were whispers, but nothing that anyone in the household would or could confirm. More people were needed out at the front at all times. So many perished with the change of climate that came after the Calamity. None of this could be pinned on him, so he pinned them on himself on his own.

So it was that he saw himself, a loathsome coward, a thief of glory and honor, an irresponsible ne'er-do-well unfit for rule.

It was why he did so much to uphold and raise the House Fortemps name but also help the less fortunate, why House Fortemps opens its doors at Camp Dragonhead and did the aid work it did in the Brume. Edmont was seen as perhaps a bit too soft and xenophilic, but kind and generous all the same.

Oh but if they knew how he felt about himself!

It was then a small miracle and great relief to Edmont that Artoirel took after his mother so. So, before the scandal and accusations could come to light, he stepped down from the head of House Fortemps. Finally he could be accused of being the coward that he was.

But ironically, or fittingly, after decades of desperately controlling the narrative on his own story as he did from his position of power and with his coward heart, having done so much good out of guilt and charity out of grief, having understood and predicted correctly, luckily, which direction the wind blew as the inveterate and well connected blame-passer he was, Edmont did not feel the weight of history damn him. Instead the Warrior of Light and the Scions of the Seventh Dawn heralded him as a forward thinker and a generous-hearted savior, a provider of sanctuary and relief in a harsh winter. He was praised as a loving, grieving father and wise mentor. He was honored as a champion of a new age in Ishgard, the first to welcome in the winds of change that burst through every House and institution. His writings would be taught as history, and there were interested eyes upon his yet unfinished and even unwritten analyses and treaties. He would, in his later years and private writings, bitterly compare his lies to those of King Thordan and wondered how long it would be before his lies were revealed to the world.

But the coward he was, he was content still to carry the truth to the grave.

#ffxiv #FFxivWrite2021 #FFxivWrite #wordvomit #misc fic

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starsfreckled-archived · 3 years

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@ritterblood asked : ♡ ( love language // accepting ).

her gestures with haurchefant are more open, her mannerism, her love, is that of a hero. loud laughter that fills camp dragonhead when she throws a snowball at his head, music that plays in the evening when she sings songs for him and his soldiers, asking them to teach her some ishgardian melodies. it’s her climbing on a chair, a smile that goes from horn to horn on her face as she jokingly ruffles through his hair “eh, I guess you’re fine, lad!”

it’s the way she pushes the doors open and grins at him, calling out “friend, I am in dire need of a place at your fire” it’s how she offers him a fist bump before she leaves for some battle that he cannot join her in “don’t worry so much about it, I got enough friends I want to return to. besides, you still have not finished telling me that ishgardian tale”

things change after the banquet, the way she shows her appreciation is now far more fragile. it’s less heroic, now she is just a girl who is terrified of the future and worried for her friends. she stands before the knight’s room, be it camp dragonhead or his father’s house. and when the door opens she cries and hugs him, asks what she’s done wrong for all of it to turn out this twisted. what is she supposed to do without the other scions? she’s no hero without them.

there are times when she wants to be alone, where she cannot listen to all of alphinaud’s planning and tataru’s fretting. but when haurchefant approaches and she can smell that hot chocolate, she moves to the side and they sit there in silence until her shoulders relax and she leans against his arms, smiling just a little bit “thank you.”

of course, things do not stay this way. life goes on for some, for others it comes to a violent and abrupt halt. sometimes, even the strongest of shield breaks.

but that does not stop someone from loving, it certainly does not stop her. now her smile seems a bit more melancholic when she returns home and her black chocobo comes to greet her. she offers it some greens, leaning their heads together and chuckling “missed you too” it’s her silently promising to look after this animal with all she can.

it’s also lone tracks up a hill in coerthas, to a grave that she sits in front of. for a while she has no stories to tell, just an empty stare and hollow sobs. but after returning from the first, she talks again, she tells stories of another world and the people there, of their struggles and their good hearts, how they continue on, no matter what ...and how they all support their heroes with kind smiles.

and some nights, if one visits dragonhead, they can hear music come out of the camp again, songs that she remembers a certain knight had especially liked.

#ritterblood #❝ ᶦⁿᵏ ˢᵒᵃᵏᵉᵈ ᶠᶦⁿᵍᵉʳᵗᶦᵖˢ ❞╱ ic asks .#death cw #[ hello she has a lot of soft feelings when it comes to haurchefant ]#[ shes just. will smith posing at him: HES !! GOOD BEAN SHAPED !!! ]

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mirroralchemist · 3 years

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Untitled FFXIV Writings pt.7

Fandom: FFXIV Pairing: Haurchefant/WoL Word Count: 3684 Notes: So this is the completed version of my little snippet I did last post. Something feels off about it so I haven't uploaded it to AO3 but I wanted to get it out there since it's been on my docs for a while. So enjoy this raw writing.

The loud warks and chirps sounded through the stables as I placed a hand on his beak. I tried to pet in a soothing manner, which only seemed to distress the creature further.

“Come on Yusuke…” I muttered, “It’ll only be for a short while. I will not abandon you.”

He seemed unconvinced of my words and only flailed more at my attempts to calm him. I let out a small sigh at it all. It was quickly apparent that I would need means of flight to travel around. Which, to my unfortunate realization, my chocobo does not have the ability to. In turn it led to my decision to stable him in Ishgard for the time being.

Yusuke, being by my side since he was first issued to me in Ul’dah, did not take well to said arrangement.

His cries only seem to grow louder at my insistence.

My pets only seem to make the bird even more anxious. Admitting, my knowledge of Chocobos was lacking; only knowing the basics of how to care and train them. I was almost at a loss on how to soothe him. I really didn’t want to stable him either, if I was perfectly honest but the Black Chocobo given to me by Lord Haurchefant would be better suited for the journey ahead. At least for now.

“Having some trouble dear friend?”

I turned towards the sound to the very man himself, Lord Haurchefant. His face seemed relaxed as he made his way towards me. Belatedly, I realized that Yusuke stopped his flailing to stare right at the Elezen. I held on to his reigns a bit tighter, in case he was ready to attack. Lord Haurchefant didn’t look worried as he approached us. I couldn’t help the blush that started to appear on my face, remembering that this is the first time we’ve been alone since that night in Camp Dragonhead.

“Ah, a bit.” I admitted, “My partner is not agreeable to being stabled while I’m away. I wish I could take him with, but he cannot fly.”

At the mention of the dilemma Yusuke started back his distressed cries. I frowned at the creature, while trying to pet him once more. Lord Haurchefant seemed amused by the scene, if the mirth expression on his face was an indicator. A gloved hand reached out and touched Yusuke where the cheek met the beak. Careful pats slowly reached up to his head.

“There, there.” he cooed, “It’ll be alright boy.”

The gentle pets across Yusuke’s yellow plumage with his soothing words quieted him down to gentle warks. Lord Haurchefant’s smile widely at his work. And me too. I stood in awe of the man. He had done something that I tried for minutes to do.

“There, he should be more amenable now.”

The awe never left my face as Yusuke became more like his docile self. Lord Haurchefant turned to look at me, bemused by my open expression. His hand had touched my shoulder.

“I can understand why he would be so anxious. The unknown feeling if the one you hold dear will return hale and whole? ‘Tis a sobering thought.”

It’s sometimes easy to forget that he is a leader of an outpost. Maybe it is not new to not welcome those under his care. His hand soon moved from my shoulder to the small of my back, bringing me close to his person. My blush became more pronounced as we were just less than an ilm apart.

“Thank you for the black chocobo.” I spoke, “I am undeserving of your kindness thus far.”

“Perish the thought. You are more than worthy of it and then some.”

I looked up at him, only for him to meet my stare as well. Watching him, my heart tightened just a bit.

“What ails you?” he asked.

My eyes had widened before looking away. Now remembering in full what happened between us before I left for Ishgard proper, it tightened my chest a bit more. I was not ashamed of what happened. But it made situations awkward when I would see him.

“It is nothing.” I started to say.

I wasn’t sure if he believed it.

He was silent as his hand stroked along the shape of my spine, sending small shivers in response to his touches.

“Why?” I began to ask, “Why did you indulge me that night?”

“Because you are a cherished friend, Love.�� he answered with no hesitation.

He seemed so sure of himself as he answered. I was at a loss for words. A feeling settled into my chest. The same feeling as we talked that night. It wasn’t the unease of being around him, but rather unease that I could not identify this feeling.

“Pray, forgive my forwardness but witnessing your feats to save my brother and then the trial by combat against two members of the Heavensward to clear your companions’ names has caused quite a stirring in my chest. If I may, may I kiss you?”

For a long moment, I was silent. To let his request sink in. The blush became more pronounced as I soon realized what he had asked of me. Thinking on it, it was not that outlandish of a request. Quite tame considering what we had already done together. Slowly, I nodded. He beamed at my acceptance as he lowered himself to match my height.

And we just stared.

Just looking at him made my heart stir. That feeling welled up just a bit more. He moved his head towards mines, closing the distance. So close, in fact, that I could feel the warmth of his breath on my skin. In a flash our lips touched. Despite the chill of skin from the winter-like air, it was pleasant.

It was a brief peck; as if he was testing my reaction.

I found myself wanting more.

Lord Haurchefant’s hand rose to touch my cheek, the chill from the leather clad hand causing a slight shiver to course throughout. His thumb idly stroked the length of skin. I leaned into his touch finding comfort in such a simple gesture.

“Haurchefant,” I spoke, “I would like that again.”

His brows rose in surprise. From me asking for more or so readily dropping his title, I could not confirm. But he seemed satisfied all the same. He leaned in once more taking my lips into his, this time not separating so quickly. The air felt different, more charged. My mind raced as it came to realize what I was doing and I was content. His hand left my cheek to caress the back of my head; ministrations leaving my body in pleasurable tingles. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to just feel for the moment.

I couldn’t tell when it happened, but the kiss became deeper.

My hands found a way through his hair, grasping at it as my body was pulled closer to his. I still wanted more. Soon wandering hands roamed down the back of my body, deliberately pausing to grope at certain parts. I would usually protest at such blatant actions, but I liked how it felt. A surprise mewl escaped my mouth as I felt myself suddenly lifted by my thighs, matching Haurchefant’s full height. Instinctively, I grabbed on by his neck to brace myself. He chuckled at my reactions.

“I confess, I had been wanting this for a time,” he said.

I could only nod. To hear him say such things was a touch embarrassing. I had never been the object of one’s feelings such as this. It was aweing to know it. Suddenly, I felt my back bump against one of the wooden beams. I was preoccupied in my own thoughts, I did not realize he had moved us for better leverage.

“It is hard to restrain myself when your reactions are so genuine Love.”

He soon returned to my cheek, peppering light kisses along my jawline. Each one brings a tickling warmth in my stomach.

“Pray, forgive my lack of restraint.”

I shook my head. I was in actuality quite content at the situation before me. I knew he would immediately stop if I showed discomfort, I felt safe around him. I wrapped my legs around his waist. Being so close, despite our layer of clothes, I felt the faint outline of his need. That in turn fed into my own needs. I held on to him tighter, slotting myself in the middle. A heavy silence settled as he began to sense my intent. His mouth gaped open in clear shock before I saw the tips of his ears tinged pink.

“Ami are you sure?”

“I am. Besides, you put me into this state.”

He gave a light chuckle before pressing himself firmer into me. He made it known that the arousal was quite mutual.

A gentle wark brought us out of the moment.

It had suddenly hit that we were being this intimate in a chocobo stable. My blush reached a new high as I loosened my hold on Haurchefant. He kissed at my temple before letting me down. I gave a wince at the crumpled state of my clothes.

“If you are still willing to continue, mayhap I recommend a place where we are not so easily disturbed?”

He had asked this of me, still ever considerate. He still let me choose the pace of this course. I nodded. He returned it with a smile before grabbing my hand. There was a comfortable silence as we walked out of the stables and through the less populated streets of Foundation. My heart beat faster in excitement of what was to happen. Now that I could clearly identify my own needs, it didn’t feel as daunting to deal with.

I confess, running around discreetly as if I was a youth was a touch embarrassing.

Our steps slowed as we approached a small outpost. He had opened the door, it creaking as it swung away. The layout was fairly simplistic; a table, unlit lantern, and a cot adorned the inside. It looked to be able to house one occupant at any given time.

“These small outposts are stationed throughout the city for our soldiers to rest through the more rigorous guard duty,” Haurchefant explained, “This particular one is seldom used nowadays so it should be suitable enough for our needs.”

A part of me had wondered how he knew this information so readily. Regardless, I nodded as he closed the door and drew the lone shutters shut to grant us true privacy. As soon as he was satisfied with the surroundings, his lips descended upon mines once more. My hands found wanting to do something so they reached to his back to attempt to unlatch the metals of his armor. He laughed in the kiss as he took off his gloves; throwing them on the lone table. Bare hands soon went lower, reaching the hem of my top. Going underneath the garment he grasped at my bare skin. Those same bare hands crept upwards to cup at my chest.

I had gone without my support wraps this time, not expecting to be in battle this day.

He seemed surprised at my choice as well. Without the bandages, I could more distinctly feel the textures of his hands. They still held a slight chill at the fingertips and a roughness that years of fighting brings. They ghosted over the sensitive skin in a gentleness like he had over my bruises that night. I groaned at how much pleasure it brought me.

At last my hands found the fasteners that kept his armor together.

We had only separated for him to place the armor away so it would not get damaged or we tripped over it. It was in those moments I got to look at him sans armor. I had truly appreciated his form. Even with the long sleeves of his undershirt, I saw the firmed muscles of his undershirt. Our eyes had met and he had smiled. It was always endearing to see him smile regardless of the situation.

“Do let me know if I’m too hasty Love.”

I nodded once more.

It was almost as if he had never parted in the first place. Being placed against the wall, I could take in his full presence.

“Come Love, I would take full responsibility for bringing you into such a state.”

He lowered his head to capture my lips once more. Slowly he made his way down my neck, making sure to lavish what bare skin was there. I took deep breaths to calm my senses, fruitless as it was as it didn’t silence the mewls that escaped my throat. My body relaxed to become more pliant in his hands. His leg is situated in the gap between my legs effectively letting me sit on it. He touched my hips and looked at me, asking for permission in silence. I gave him a nod, punctuating it with a firm seating on his thigh. He hand kneaded at the muscles, a rush of familiarity coursing through me. I moved myself against his thigh, relishing the friction it brought. The familiar coil of heat tightened just like that night. I would glance at him, noticing that he stared at me. I almost slowed down at the movements before I felt a squeeze on my hips.

“No, don’t,” he said, “I am quite delighted to see you like this.”

“To see me so debauched?” I asked between rocks.

“To see you become yourself.” he corrected.

I stopped completely at my motions to fully stare at him. I started to say something, but stopped. He looked at me in concern.

“Speak your mind, Love.”

I shook my head. It was the realization of the truth of his words that caused me to pause. How he had spoken it with such conviction to me. That I had to just be. I reached out to his face to bring him closer to kiss. There was no doubt that my actions were clumsy at best. If he was disappointed at my experience, he didn’t show it. He seemed eager to return my affections. His hands firmed in their grip as he nudged at me to continue. I separated from his face enough to give a nod as I pressed myself harder on his thigh. The soft groans that accompanied me with each movement seemed to spurn him on. He had started to help me in my endeavor to get off, angling his leg in a way that it would hit just the right spot. His hands glided along the length of my body eventually finding my bare skin again. The groans came quicker as he did not hold back at groping my chest. While I hadn’t been ashamed of them, my bust had always been a bit on the larger side. Feeling Haurchefant able to touch them directly was a bit embarrassing. Despite that, they sent tingles down my body directing in at my core. I felt myself dampen the more we kept going.

The craving for more began to manifest.

Haurchefant must have sensed this too for he stopped in his motions and carried me to the cot. With a soft bounce I landed on said bedding and Haurchefant hovered over me. We stared at each other for the briefest of moments before he had descended upon my bare neck. His hand slowly moved downwards towards the fastener of my pants. His hand rested there, waiting for my permission. I stilled in the moment. I nodded. He had given me a smile in return before loosening my bottoms. A hand slid into said bottoms, under my small clothes to touch at my mound. It was my turn to blush heavily as that hand felt around. I glanced down only to witness the telltale lump of Haurchefant’s hand exploring.

“Have you ever done this to yourself before?”

I simply shook my head.

“N-no.”

He had taken his time exploring me. He had watched my expressions carefully, making changes if his actions caused a worrying reaction. It was difficult to discern if the ministrations were good or bad as never having a reference point before now. But I hadn’t disliked what he was doing. There was more of a heated feeling, steadily rising with each passing motion. My body broke out in a light sweat as I squirmed. Just as it nearly felt too much he had stopped. The involuntary whine that escaped me made Haurchefant chuckle as he pressed a quick kiss on my neck. His hands wandered to the tops of my pants and with some shimmying on my end removed them. Not long after I heard the tell-tale clinks and shifting fabrics of his own bottoms being removed. I covered my eyes to give some measure of privacy towards him.

Even if in response he gave an amused chuckle.

I felt his presence directly on top of me. Opening my eyes once more, I met with his stare. There was this sort of serene expression on his face as he leaned in closer to me. I felt the heat radiating down below as his member rested on top of me. Even if I wanted to, there was no hiding the intense blush that seemed to appear all over my skin.

“I’ll be careful Love.” He murmured.

I gave him a small nod as I didn’t trust my voice.

Small whimpers squeaked out as I felt him rub against the sensitive skin below. As his tip started to prod at my entrance, thoughts began to course through me. I had expected there to be a size difference. Considering I was a Hyur, a midlander at that, the difference was much more daunting against an Elezen. He had attempted to push inwards and my body jumped at the motion. A free hand had massaged my shoulder. It took a few moments but my body had calmed down somewhat. I felt he had attempted to gently push inwards again. My entrance would just not yield to the attempted intrusion. A strained whine left my lips. Slowly I felt him withdraw as he looked towards me. There was that clear concern on his face. I appreciated the gesture as I always had when it came to my dear friend. But frustration started to settle within myself. I had wanted this. I wanted to be with Haurchefant in this manner. And yet my body refused for one reason or another. The corners of my eyes began to prick at tears trying to fall at my failure for such a simple act.

“Shh, it’s alright.” he cooed.

He had taken his free hand to run it through my tousled hair before letting it rest on my cheek. His thumb had wiped idly at those minuscule tears that formed. Despite his words, I still felt guilty that somehow I had led him on with no reward.

“I can do this.” I told him, “I just need to relax.”

He shook his head.

“It is quite alright, I am content like this.”

“But-”

“Ami,” he spoke with a sudden seriousness, “You needn’t have to force yourself on my behalf. I would not have a precious moment to be marred with such pain. Pray, do not misunderstand, ‘tis not an outright rejection. Mayhap in the future we can try once more, if still willing?”

I only nodded. That serious expression faded into his more usual smile. He pressed another kiss on my forehead. The thought again of why Haurchefant hadn’t been spoken for course through my head. Even knowing the context that his being was seen as lesser in proper Ishgardian society, my friend would still be a great partner to whomever he chooses.

That aside, there was still the very noticeable issue that we were both still too aroused to just stop.

My hand glided down the side of his body to stop at his hip. I gave the skin a gentle squeeze and a push towards me. I had hoped this gesture would hint at what I wanted since our initial plan didn’t happen. He only let out a soft chuckle as he lowered his hips more flush to my own. Just like within Camp Dragonhead, we started this movement against one another. My arms found their way wrapped around his chest as his hardened length thrust forward against me. Feeling it rub against my body makes me groan out in appreciation. That coiling feeling tightening at my core. I shifted my body upwards to give him some more of that pleasant friction. Occasionally I would feel his tip graze at my opening; never enough to cause my body to shut down. I could scarcely recall how long we were like this. Just an unending flow of pleasure I was partaking with a dear friend. I felt myself let go as the pleasure became too much to contain. A deep moan rumbled from my own chest as I placed a hand through Haurchefant’s hair. He pressed a soft kiss on my forehead as he followed soon after me.

We laid in mutual silence completely wrapped up within each other. I found comfort that in these private moments with Haurchefant, I can just be myself. I knew that soon I would have to go back to wearing the mantle of being the Warrior of Light. I leaned in closer to my friend, taking in his presence as we embraced into each other’s arms. I lifted my head towards him, only noticing he was looking at me as well. I could easily see the fondness and contentment in his expression. It made my own heart thump at how clearly I picked up on it.

“Are we due back yet?” I asked.

“We can stay as long as you need to be Love.”

“You have my thanks, for everything. May I be a little selfish and ask for one request?”

He nodded silently, waiting for my request.

“Once everything has settled down, I want to try this again with you.”

#shit writing #writing things #fan fic #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fiction #Final Fantasy XIV #Final Fantasy 14 #FFXIV #FF14 #Haurchefant/WoL #originally I was gonna have them do all of it in the stables #but thought better of it #Oblivious dumbass Sprout!Ami strikes again #I'll eventually upload this to AO3 once I figure out why it's even more garbage than usual #I kinda wrote it for me but you can read it too I guess

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styrnraelmalqir · 3 years

Text

The Last Vigil

[ MAJOR SPOILERS FOR FFXIV 3.0 AND 3.1 AHEAD. ]

I just have a lot of feelings and needed to put them into words. Spoilers begin right away so please be warned, thank you!

“He would not have told you,” the Count turned to his steward, trading his cane for the broken shield of his son, “but when Haurchefant begged me to accept you into our household, he described you as ‘hope incarnate.’”

The room was hushed at the sight of Count Edmont de Fortemps touching the failed steel before him. He studied it for a moment before turning back to Styrnrael. “At the time, I assumed that he was waxing lyrical, as he was wont, but I have come to see that he simply spoke the truth.”

A breath escaped the steward’s lips as he looked upon his lord. Of the many secrets the steward had kept in half a century of service, moments such as these still came as a surprise. His focus moved to the warriors who stood in the foyer of the Manor. The steward’s vision narrowed on Styrnrael behind the thick bifocals resting on his nose. A tear threatened his composure. The warmth she and her friends brought to Ishgard was enough to fog his glasses. He batted away the tear. Before he could remove a handkerchief from his pocket to clean his lenses, Edmont surprised him yet again.

The Count stepped toward the free paladin whom his son had trusted most ardently. His gaze was still fixed on the shield in his hands, eyes low beneath his eyelashes. Of all the passing times she visited Fortemps Manor, sometimes for only a few hours of rest, not once had Edmont warmly addressed her as such.

His gaze slowly lifted to meet her own. “You are hope.” He spoke softly as if just for her to hear. His deep blue irises held an ocean’s depth. For a moment in the fading light of sunset that pierced through the windows, she saw Haurchefant in his eyes. She dared not to blink.

He cleared his throat, regaining the equanimity required for that of the head of House Fortemps. “You are hope,” he repeated with purpose, “a shining beacon that shall guide the people of Ishgard through this raging snowstorm.” With that, he lifted a heel and bowed before her, presenting the shield with both hands. She reached toward the Count to receive his gift. Her hands traced its rough edges. It was not sharp enough to nick her calloused hand, try as she might. The dazzling color of the setting sun filled the crevices of the shield’s damage with light.

“A memento,” the Count began again, looking directly at Styrnrael now. “Were my son here…” Styrnrael was entranced and the all too familiar ringing in her head made her stagger away from the present. The Echo, a gift of her mind to see memories as they were lived, could also be a curse. Suddenly her vision was every color at once and yet nothing at all. The rigid décor of the room, the flowers in the vase, the Count, the steward, and Seishin, all disappeared around her. The emptiness engulfed her in a pyre of dancing colors. Memories that were not her own flooded her reality. The Echo within her wove unrelated images together into a coherent form. The steps of a familiar quarter of Ishgard appeared, illuminated by servants lighting the gas lamps that lined the mithril-colored stone pathways of the Pillars. She stepped into the past.

All too familiarly, the past becomes present for just a moment.

A boy not yet ten is outside on a cold day, playing with a stick and a book. “En garde!” he shouts, defending a small toy from a would-be intruder. “That’s enough for today,” A man approaches. He is not yet forty-one. He does not make eye contact with the child. “You can return to the Manor now that mother’s guests are gone.”

The boy laughs and gathers his effects. Giving himself a running start, he jumps and grabs the Count’s hand. “And please, be reasonable Haurchefant. Leave the sticks outside this time, won’t you?”

The gaslights on the perimeter of the street begin to flicker as father and son return to the Manor. The fire within the lamps turns to smoke and color fades around her as Styrnrael steps into another vision.

Now at nearly thirty himself, the teal haired youth has grown into a thoughtful adviser, studying the charts on his desk in his quarters at Camp Dragonhead. Atop the strewn maps and coordinates of the warfront is an envelope. It was nearly torn to shreds in excitement. “What is it, my lord?” Corentiaux clamors to know what message would be so important that it drew Haurchefant’s attention so abruptly this early in the morning.

“A missive, from the Scions of course! I have been awaiting news of their decision to hear our case! We must needs their assistance posthaste to ensure Francel’s record is expunged! I know he is innocent, we just need to prove it to the Inquisitor.” His eyes dart over the words of the letter, comprehending quickly the limited envoy they approved to aid his needs. His hope never faulters for a moment no matter how slim the chances might be. “By the Fury! They have accepted our call for aid and by some fortune are sending the primal slayers themselves!”

Corentiaux is unconvinced, knowing how idealistic his lord is wont to be. “Are you sure that this will be enough to aid us?”

“Hope. That is always enough.” He nods to his squires and begins planning the reception to welcome the Scions who would answer his plea. He shuffles the papers on his desk like an Astrologian’s cards. The wind of the fanned-out pages sweeps Styrnrael to another time.

Even at midday, there is mist covering the Sea of Clouds. Scatterlings of Rose Knight scouts line the area, some swiftly rising to attention as the noble approaches, and some others ignoring him entirely. The indifference they show is quickly parted when Laniette approaches, flanked by wounded soldiers and a trembling Honoroit. “Lord Haurchefant,” the Lady begins. “Your dutiful brother has taken the growing tensions with the Vanu Vanu into his own hands to prove himself. Might you and Master Garlond have a moment to spare for one of your trademark deus ex machinas?” She smiles through gritted teeth, cursing Emmanellain for causing so much trouble, then cursing herself for entrusting him with the task.

“I thought you would never ask! Last time I so much as suggested involving myself in the dealings of the Warriors of Light, twelve men had to restrain me!” Haurchefant resigns to a smile, sparing his company the details of his favorite story to recount. He knows Laniette’s duties here in Cloudtop are much like corralling gaelicats. “You can count on me, my lady!” He nods and gently shakes his fist. Then, turning his sunlit disposition to Cid, the two of them board the airship docked at the side of the camp. Lifting into the air, they cast off the airship landing, and fly through the heavens upon the Enterprise. The clouds mingle with the exhaust of the airship’s engine, flowing through the lush lands of the camp. Styrnrael’s vision becomes clouded, too, as she flies to another image.

“I’m certain there is a joke about a monk and a House Fortemps Knight walking into a bar,” Gibrillont chuckles.

Seishin and Haurchefant laugh heartily and take their seats on weathered stools.

“What will it be, boys? For what you did tonight to provide aid and succor to the Brume folk after today’s eventful showdown, when you could be at home nursing your own wounds, I’d say this’ll be on the house. Though tis a right shame you didn’t bring along that Lady Iceheart I saw shouting about peace earlier!”

Haurchefant almost begins to order but pauses as he sees his friend still considering the vast menu. Gibrillont notices a certain paladin missing from the party. “Say, where is Styrnrael? Do you think she would fancy some mead? I will get some from the storehouse while you two make up your minds about your drinks! I’ll put in an order for trout and chips while I pass by the kitchen and be back in two bells.” Gibrillont swaggers away, leaving the monk and the knight with some privacy. Though it is only thirty past eight, nearly all the tavern’s regulars have staggered home.

“How about some hot chocolate, for old time’s sake?” His words comfort the monk who is tapping one foot against the floor. He steals a glance at Seishin while he is looking at the menu and his cheeks warm at the thought of his return. His mind wanders, “Though I was never much of a religious man before, tis Halone’s blessing you have returned to me unharmed.”

Seishin glances up at Haurchefant coyly, flexing his hand to highlight the bruises on his knuckles. A monk is ever ready to show off his battle scars.

Haurchefant grins incredulously, still convinced his companions are invincible. That he may count Lady Iceheart among his newfound allies; that is an entirely new kind of faith. “Though I will measure it took much more than the Fury to accomplish this feat. Ysayle, is it? She may prove to bring hope to her people yet. In some way, she reminds me of our dear Styrnrael. I recall how terrified she once was to be seen in the streets of Ishgard. No matter how many times I tried to console her that my countrymen would not look upon her in disgust, I’m not sure she fully accepted that until today.”

Gibrillont returns with their drinks and supper before Seishin can respond.

“Thank you for bringing us here, Haurchefant.” He extends his hand and the heavy glass mugs clank together. “Thank you for taking us in. Styrnrael, the Scions, and I would be beside ourselves without you.”

“My family and I were happy to do so! Though truth be told, I was not sure how Artoirel would feel.” Haurchefant, ever a hospitable host, waits for his comrade to begin eating before he takes his first bite of the warm meals before them.

Seishin lets out a hearty laugh, knowing full well what he meant. “I understand completely. My older brother is also overzealous in his endeavor to protect his family.”

“I see even Ishgard’s more beloved sons have taken you in. It was truly a pleasant surprise to see you and Estinien fighting side by side.” They continue to praise each other, delighting in the company and the well-deserved respite.

“I always knew you would be Ishgard’s saviors!” His glorious shout can be heard across the entirety of the Forgotten Knight’s dining room.

Nearby, a machinist and her men glance up from their table at the commotion. She rolls her eyes at the idiots and smirks fiendishly at her comrades. The room is full of joy – for peace is on the horizon.

Their happy exchanges muddle with the commotion of the tavernkeeper moving chairs and sweeping debris. Styrnrael can hear them talking, but they are both too far away to hear. Some memories even the Echo cannot access. Styrnrael notices another Xaela. He glances downward at the child beside him, unamused with the ruckus. He leaves as quietly as he came. Before she can follow him, Styrnrael can hear Haurchefant and Seishin speaking again.

“Twelve have mercy! Have you told her yet?” Haurchefant inquires, ears perking up at the thought of his friends’ happiness. “I should be glad to see what she says in response. When you linger too long away, I worry what the world asks of you, how you are ever saving the world from the latest calamity.” He rests a hand on Seishin’s. “You are both so precious to me,” His confession stings like a needle to her heart, ever bleeding as she hovers in the Echo. “Your feelings are safe with me, friend. I will keep them close to my heart for as long as I live.”

She wakes up in the night on a tufted settee finding a blanket that was not there when she fell asleep. Styrnrael sits up in the darkness. She feels safe, seeing Seishin and Haurchefant sitting on the floor beside her, both of them fast asleep.

The nightmares of the future dance in her mind. In her dreams, she is running ahead, trying to catch a phantom. Her armor is lead and her sabatons melt into the ground. Her heavy legs will not move. The piercing sound hits her like a drum. The crack of the shield and the splinters flying. The glare of the spear.

“I could not bear to…” His words are the ringing in her ears. She blinks away the sight of his head in her lap. He reaches for her. In the dark, she silently repeats his words.

She looks away as the Echo tries to show her the light fading again in the dusk of The Vault. She looks away and sees Seishin. He is lost for words. She cannot turn away now, the image is burned in her mind. She steps into the memory and lets the Echo consume her at last.

The vision was gone. The present pulled her back. All the colors joined together until there were none. Seishin gently touched her shoulder as she awakened. The Count’s eyes were still fixed on his son’s sources of hope.

“Are you quite alright, Mistress Malqir?” Count Edmont’s voice carried genuine worry. Styrnrael’s emptiness was not the reception he was hoping for, though he did expect it, having seen the Echo sweep his friends away at times. “I know that…” His eyes, the same eyes as his son’s, closed. “I know he meant a lot to you.”

Styrnrael nodded. The embarrassment of riches this shield was, and the memories that were held within it, felt almost too much to the Xaela. No one in the room would have guessed that not weeks ago, she was wont to hide her face beneath a cowl lest she be rejected. For in the light of day, when the snow settled, she at last felt welcomed, as was her hope.

“Were my son here, he would have wished to fight at your side in the battles to come.” His eyebrows knitted together while a somber grin wrinkled his cheeks. “Take care, my friend, and return to us!”

Seishin and Styrnrael smiled, to the Count, and then to each other.

#haurchefant greystone #ffxiv #fanfic #stynrael malqir #seishin fuda #adventuresofatanksprout

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chevalierhaurchefant · 3 years

Text

verses

main verse - ARR & early Heavensward

“Heaven’s got a plan for you.”

Lord Haurchefant of House Fortemps is in command of the Ishgardian stronghold Camp Dragonhead and in charge of the soldiers ensuring the safety of the smallfolk and merchants traveling to and from lshgard.

He will return to his home in Ishgard on a regular basis. Mostly these visits are tied to his duties, but sometimes he finds the time to simply visit his family, although these occasions tend to be few and far between.

example hooks for this verse:

meet him in Camp Dragonhead

meet him in Ishgard on an errand or on the way to or from Fortemps Manor

visit him in Fortemps Manor

witness him train with the other soldiers

a training match

…

BELOW THERE BE SPOILERS FOR HEAVENSWARD

– survival verse (post Heavensward)

Haurchefant is rushed to the infirmary after suffering what should have been a fatal wound. Somehow the healers managed to keep him alive, but barely. For a long time he is in a state closer to death than life and while gradually getting better, his recovery is slow. It takes weeks before he opens his eyes once more, and months until he makes a recovery, albeit he is told it will likely take years to make it a full one.

He’s still weak when the healers finally allow him to go home and while he knows family and friends are glad to see him on his feet, he can also sense everyone now perceives him as fragile.

His relationship with his little brother Emmanellain, who, in his absense, has taken over the command at Camp Dragonhead, becomes slightly strained in this verse.

Haurchefant doesn’t necessarily want to demand his position back, (aware that he couldn’t properly lead a stronghold in his state anyway), but he can’t help the feeling of mourning that accompanies the thought of never returning to his former command.

When he gave in to the darkness, the taste of blood fresh in his mouth, Ishgard was still at war. Now that he awoke, for him in but a blink of time, he’s told the war is done, that they have peace and it all was achieved without him doing his part. He’s lost and disoriented, trying to find his place in this new Ishgard.

– resurrection verse (post Heavensward)

“You don’t get to die and be reborn the same. You come back, but you come back wrong. This is the price you pay for resurrection.”

Haurchefant awakes, sans clothes and weaponry, in the wilderness of Coerthas. There is a gruesome scar stretching across his abdomen and even his memory seems fractured. Thanks to the kindness of some travellers he doesn’t freeze to death and manages to regain most of his strength, although his memory remains patchy.

Before he regains his memories he takes up the mantle of an adventure under another name and does some odd jobs around the region, venturing as far as Gridania. Occasionally he receives comments about how he looks eerily familiar to the late Lord Haurchefant and with time, fragments of the past come back to him.

example hooks for this verse:

finding him when he first re-emerges from the lifestream

meeting him on his travels (either recognizing him, or not)

meeting him in Ishgard after he finally regained most of his memories

…

#verses

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candideangel · 4 years

Note

Emet x Angelique? Or maybe Haurchefant x Angelique? Aymeric ?

To summarize Emet and Angelique, it would have to be a hard pass. Now, don’t get me wrong, as a mun I loved Emet as an antagonist, he’s not really a villain just doing what he thinks is right but going the worst way about it. However, it’s not because he’s old(er), or that he’s physically hard to enjoy. I just think chemistry wise, they wouldn’t mix. It would be like oil and water, and depending on the way it could go, I would worry that the relationship would become toxic and dependent rather than giving her an independent lifestyle.

~o~o~

However, I won’t lie; Haurchefant was a contender to the shipping of Angelique because I worried often during ShB that G’raha would become kind of overloved (though I don’t regret shipping him), and in my canon...during their time in Camp Dragonhead in exile, he actually did help her find her voice to stand on a stage and bring the smiles to people with her singing. Tired soldiers feeling a bit of a boost, it made her feel...like she had another purpose. Not to mention he was often rather funny, and very supportive of her. At a time she felt internally broken, unsure what to do with an Alphinaud who was distraught, a city and home she couldn’t go back to. Basically stuck in a deserted wasteland of snow...he was there, and let’s be honest, they’ve hugged and gone on patrol a few times together. They are soft and sweet, and I think he was also one of the few people she felt comfortable talking to. So would it happen? Of course!

Seriously, can you imagine this cheery Elezen man nudging a socially awkward young woman onto a stage in a bar in front of tired soldiers and just gesturing of “go, sing” trying to encourage her in the wings.

~o~o~

Ah, Ser Aymeric; a man I wouldn’t mind seeing her with. We spent a lot of time with him in Heavensward, and after you peeled away the layer of his formality, he was actually a joy to be with. I’m also not going to lie about the fact that he was someone who encouraged her to dress nicely for dinner! Angelique is a girl who doesn’t dress nicely, or formally, so you can imagine this girl trying to scramble to find something to wear for a lord of houses.

Their first meeting though, the moment she heard his voice, her heart did skip several beats when they left. To her, his voice caught her so off guard, and while his personality like a normal politician, his voice to her was like a pot of melting chocolate. It made her knees go weak.

But as a ship, I think they’d be cute together, cause height differences are a favorite and while Angelique isn’t huge political person, she would be more of a social person, especially more comfortable in places like the Brume, and she would often go to him with ideas on how to make their lifestyle better. Sometimes even taking him there and away from work so he could get a better grasp of his citizens. As for the firmament detail you can imagine that he was very appreciative, but would have to princess carry her back to the manor to rest because Angelique has a tendency to work herself into the ground. So while Aymeric can bring out her formal side, teaching her to waltz, dressing her in colors that fit her and a style that suits her tastes, and more. She would show him the fun of a normal common person, like let’s say post Nidhogg death, and Thordan, everyone partying in the Forgotten Knight.

This is a place Aymeric may not frequent, but when he does see that everyone does pause to look at him very out of place, Angelique would pull him to the middle of the floor and minstrels would start playing their upbeat music and believe it or not would end up dancing together.

Not to mention, Aymeric can cook, so he can teach her a lot about recipes and cooking over a stove rather than a constant fire out in the wild.

So a ship that’s very much possible! (Shame I can’t get pictures with him!!!! Reeeeee))

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dragons-bones · 6 years

Text

Sweets for the Sweet

It felt good to set foot in a proper kitchen again after walking all over the Coerthas Highlands for a week. Every floorboard was familiar, all of the utensils in their place. She can’t help but smile a little as she sets the bag full of ingredients down, breathing deep to fill up her lungs with the smell of home.

The hearth crackles welcomingly in a few minutes, bringing the warmth back into her cheeks. She leaves her sword by the counter next to her shield, strips off the mail and leather gloves and sets about dragging a step stool over to the higher cabinets. Pulling down what she needs, she hooks her foot around one of the stool’s legs and pulls it along to the counter by the stove.

A pity that no one had been able to keep any liqueur in stock, but Haurchefant had been quick to improvise.

Bless him, Luli thought fondly as she got the stove warmed up. Perhaps if everyone in Ishgard had half a heart so big there wouldn’t be half the problems to deal with in the world.

The thought of the Temple Knights tripping over themselves to be friendly to anyone was enough to make her laugh - a good start to baking, honestly. Always better to start with a smile than a frown. She found the pan and spoons she needed and began to gingerly crush the cookies she’d bought. With a little heated butter she could mold them into a crust and let it cool down.

Hopping off the stool she reclaimed her bag and began digging through It, setting first one, then two, boxes of ice cream beside the pan. Beside it she carefully set the bottle of mint syrup, smiling when Haurchefant’s face came to mind.

She’d have to come up with a way to thank him for all his help at Camp Dragonhead.

Cutting the ice cream proved easier after heating up a knife and she mixed it with some melted chocolate from the stove before adding in a few drops of the syrup. The room felt comfortable now, two fires pushing back the Ishgardian cold and she was very close to humming as she mixed the filling.

A little trill answered the first couple of notes that escaped, making her pause. Turning her head she stared, slack jawed for a moment, at the emerald carbuncle sitting primly in the door of her kitchen. A very pretty one it was - tails all settled around it like a Lady’s skirts. Big lovely eyes that practically begged for attention.

“Hello.” Luli smiled, pushing the bowl up onto the counter. She hopped off the stool and brushed cookie crumbs from her shirt. “Are you lost, luv? Not many carbuncles around here. I bet your mum or dad would miss one as pretty as you.”

The carbuncle trilled again, ducking its head in a way that seemed bashful. Luli strained to see out into the common room, perplexed when no arcanist could be seen. She wasn’t terribly familiar with the art - or the beautiful creatures of aether that arcanists employed as assistants. Glancing at the demure intruder again she tried to pluck up a smile.

“Cold, is it? Well, you wouldn’t be the first to amble in wanting away from the chill.” Reaching out, she offered a hand for the carbuncle to sniff.

Dark eyes blinked, seeming wider now than they had been moments ago. But the little one leaned forward, nose twitching. It’s ears perked and all of its attention went to the counter behind Luli. A quiet little “myaa” emerged, the look in the carbuncle’s eyes turning pleading.

She knew that look. Even if she didn’t know much about creatures of magic and aether, the begging stare was a classic.

Could carbuncles even eat? Did they have stomachs? Surely there might be something she could offer the little one until its master came back?

Luli felt her heart melt a little. “Alright, alright. I’ll find you something. Hop up and you can watch me finish this pie first.”

The carbuncle let out an excited squeak and hopped up onto the highest part if the counter, leaning to watch her with curious interest. Luli grinned, climbing back onto the stool to resume mixing the filling. The ice cream had softened, which made it easier to stir. Once it was done she picked up a tiny spoon to do a taste test, relaxing as the flavor spread across her tongue.

She’d worried about the lack of proper ingredients, but the syrup was a good stand in. Looking up at her guest she dipped a new spoon into the mixture, standing on her tip toes to offer it up to the wide eyed carbuncle.

“A little taste won’t hurt you, right luv?”

Her new friend eagerly lapped at the filling, almost in danger of toppling from their perch. Reaching out with both front paws the carbuncle snagged it from her hand, pulling it closer so every bit of sweetness could be eaten up.

Luli chuckled at the sight, pouring the filling into the pan. She set the bowl and spoon aside, amused when her guest clambered down to stick their whole head into the bowl with the most delighted sound she’d ever heard. Thick green tails swayed excitedly, prouder than any soldier’s banner.

“You must give your mum or dad a lot of trouble, huh?” She asked, digging an ice crystal out of the pouch at her side. A distracted squeak answered her and she laughed. The crystal chilled the pie faster than her icebox would have, which left only making the topping.

Some drizzled chocolate over a layer of whipped cream and she stared proudly down at it, hands on her hips. Her guest emerged from the bowl an absolute mess, trilling happily despite the sticky sugar covering their fur. Dark eyes turned to the completed pie and widened, tails beginning to sway once again.

“Myaa?”

“Oh no you don’t.” Luli gingerly slid the mostly clean bowl away from the carbuncle, setting it in front of the pie like a shield. “You’re a mess and I can’t have you go back home looking like that. You’ve been nice company so I’ll make good on my promise to give you something sweet.”

She raised a finger in warning, “But only if you leave that pie alone. It’s for a good friend of mine.”

Large ears folded, tails drooping at her words. Somehow the little beast managed to look like the very picture of sadness and make her feel as though she’d kicked a pup.

“Don’t give me that.” Luli sighed, leaning to reach for a clean rag. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Be good and I might have a few tarts you can munch on.”

The carbuncle perked up at that. She wet the rag at the sink and carefully scrubbed at glossy emerald fur, marveling over how so much energy could stay in one form. And how that form could get so messy.

“If you come around again sometime I’ll make you a pie all for yourself.” Luli mused, gently stroking the carbuncle’s head. “It’s nice to have someone around that don’t cause trouble.”

A trill like wind chimes answered her and her guest sat neat and prim once more, blinking hopefully. She smiled, tossing the rag into the sink.

“All right. As agreed, let’s get those tarts.”

———–

GUYS GUYS GUYS GUUUUUUUUUUUYS LOOK AT WHAT @glyphenthusiast WROTE FOR ME

oh my god I am dead this is amazing Galette you shameless pig omg so perfect

*furiously cuddles ficlet* THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE IT

#submission #final fantasy xiv #glyphenthusiast #other people's writing #other people's characters #luli #synnove's carbuncles

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