(no subject)

[suitsahero]

In some ways, nothing has changed at all.

Haurchefant gets up in the morning, puts on his armor, has breakfast, makes his way through the day as the commander of a garrison. There is paperwork to do and things to inspect and drills to both conduct and participate in. Most days there are no dragons to fight. Some days, there are, and then there are more duties, the ones he likes the least, seeing to the wounded and writing letters back to Foundation for the dead. But overall, one day here is very much like the others, a routine that he mostly sees as stability, rather than boredom, but it does always make him extra interested in anything that breaks that, that keeps things from becoming a monotony. It's part of the reason he's always been so welcoming to adventurers here.

There are... other reasons.

Not that he's really indulged much in any of those other reasons recently. He wouldn't necessarily say that he's suddenly saving himself for one adventurer in particular, exactly, but it's more that, ever since he offered to play host to the remaining Scions, it's not as though he's wanted for distractions. And Y'tajha's room is right across the hall from his own and he wouldn't want to offend her or make her feel uncomfortable. That's all. (That making Alphinaud, who actually shares a wall with him, uncomfortable doesn't even enter into his thoughts also doesn't enter into his thoughts.) He's just being... polite.

Whatever his denial about that may or may not be, he absolutely wouldn't deny that he enjoys having them here. Or that running into Y'tajha at various points in both of their days doesn't brighten his considerably. Today, it's at breakfast. He's gone for a brief morning tour of Camp Dragonhead, always preferring to let the cold wake him up before he eats and his stomping the snow off his boots at the door when he sees her sitting down with a few of the other soldiers for her own breakfast. He waves with a smile and comes to join them,

"I hope you were able to sleep well last night," he opens with as he gets seated, "the wind always howls a bit up in the tower." It's kind of pointless speech, really, it's not like she hasn't been here a while with time to get used to such things. But he just rather enjoys talking to her and the morning is young enough that he's still working on his wit.

Comments

[astera]

It's a strange time indeed when a woman previously dubbed the Warrior of Light is little more than a fugitive, relying on the kindness of a friend and his standing in order to keep herself (and the two other friends she has remaining in this land) from being thrown unceremoniously into the depths of Halatali. Accused of a crime she could never have even dreamed of committing, her first few days as a guest in Camp Dragonhead were lost in a strange whirlwind of grief and denial.

But in a turn of events she could never have predicted, it was the friendly ease of Lord Haurchefant as he went about with hot drinks, insisting on letting them call the camp "Falling Snows", that helped to jostle her out of her dark mood. Her days are easier now; there's an impatience as she waits for their host to get word from Ishgard, of course, but in other ways, she's come to enjoy helping out around the camp.

Or perhaps it's really just the company of Lord Haurchefant himself that she enjoys.

Tataru's made a few comments here and there, and there are even pointed looks from some of the soldiers when their paths cross. (Pointed looks much like the ones she's getting now, as the lord of the camp joins them at the table.) She hasn't really paid them a lot of attention.

Haurchefant is a dear friend, that is all.

Or perhaps she simply has some denial of a different sort to deal with. After all, there have already been a great many sleepless nights when the miqo'te has thought quite seriously about crossing the hall to the chambers across from her own and rousing him from his slumber. The only thing that's ever really stopped her is that she's had no good reason for doing so. (In her eyes, being unable to sleep hardly counts as something worthwhile to interrupt his sleep when he has already done so much for her and hers. And besides, what would she expect of him upon waking him?)

Absent-minded fingers come up to the hair worn loose around her shoulders - Y'tajha's morning ritual of late consists of breakfast, then putting herself together for the day's work - as she offers the newcomer to the table a warm smile.

"Like a babe in arms, my lord." Despite the formality of her words, there's an air of familiarity in her voice, a warmth only reserved for friends. The words themselves though are entirely untrue, a lie told to prevent him from worrying. When he is already risking so much to help them, why trouble him with the fact that her nights are spent restless and awake, that any sleep she does get is plagued by nightmares of her flight from Ul'dah? "You needn't apologize for the wind."