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Welcome Home, Warrior

Chapter 3: Home(stead)

Summary:

The Warrior hunts a mysterious foe, the Count hunts the Warrior, and both outsider and Ishgardian are hunted in turn.

Notes:

Rating increased to T for this chapter for gore and mentions of death.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

"What do you mean they're gone?"

The soldier quailed under the Count's disbelieving stare. Their eyes darted back and forth as if seeking help and finding none, for their fellow guard was standing just out of polite speaking range, straight-faced, trying desperately to pretend that he could not hear a word of what was going on. Edmont couldn't care less who spoke as long as someone answered for why the Warrior was 'gone' a mere four hours after he'd turned in for the night. The adoption paperwork weighed heavily in his pocket. He should have done this earlier. He shouldn't have waited. Shouldn't have slept. They were probably halfway to Gridania or Ul'Dah or some other faraway land, and they would be so busy he'd never be able to invite them back to Ishgard.

The soldier seemed to realize that no aid was forthcoming and their training kicked in; rallying in a last bid to save the situation. Professionalism crept back into their voice and their back straightened.

"They left this morning, my lord, accompanied by a small contingent of knights. Merchants and travelers have been going missing in the west by Eirik's hamlet. The one by the lake. I didn't hear much but it sounds like there's something magical involved that they want the Warrior to take a look at. They should be back in a day or two," they added helpfully.

Edmont sighed. It wasn't the soldier's fault that he'd missed his target by an hour. He should have expected something like this, frankly. He remembered being on active duty and trying to enjoy his time off as fast and efficiently as possible before someone would inevitably barge into his study with a new report for him to worry over. Indeed, the Warrior's patent lack of residence might not be due to familial troubles but rather from being constantly swept from one duty to the next. Why, they might even encounter something upon their return and be delayed for an indeterminate amount of time.
There was only one thing to do.

"Very well. Thank you for your time. May Halone keep your watch free of interruptions." He dipped his head, courteously. The soldier relaxed ever so slightly.

"By Halone's grace." They murmured in return and bowed. "My lord."

Edmont returned to the Fortemps manor with a strange sense of clarity and walked in silence until he reached his rooms. The butler was there, quietly folding a set of fresh linens and he bowed as he saw the Count walk in. Edmont nodded in return. Methodically, he stripped off his fine coats and set them to the side. The butler watched him pull an arm through a thin woolen shirt, then another. He spoke up when Edmont began to hunt for socks.

"Going out, sir?"

"Yes. See that three chocobos are made ready, and that Sers Ransoix and Ninne are prepared for two day's travel."

"To where, if I may ask?"

"The Western Highlands." Edmont replied. He held up a hand as his butler's brows shot up. "There is something I must do."

"I understand, sir, but take care. We are not as young as we once were, and it has been a long time since you traveled those parts."

"A long time indeed. I confess that the height of my traveling days are long behind me; I do not weather the cold as hardily as I once did and my spine aches after a night in my office chair, let alone a chocobo's saddle." He smiled ruefully. "I leave the House in good hands while I am away. Artoirel has full access to my accounts, in the event that I am delayed and matters of import arise, and Emmanellain should already be on his way to Camp Dragonhead." With the blasted socks finally on, he turned toward the butler and clasped his shoulder with his free hand. "I will be in good company, my old friend. The Warrior of Light set out for the Highlands early this morn and I will join them anon. You need not worry while I am in the company of Ishgard's finest knights and her very savior."

"Our friend." The elderly butler agreed. He bowed. "Return home safe. I will ask the chef to keep a slow roast and stew going in anticipation of your return; the both of you."

"Do not speak of such things." With heavy traveling coat in hand Edmont was already halfway out the door. "The more you do, the more loath I will be to leave."

The man's chuckle followed him out.

Ishgard was just beginning to wake. He enjoyed a leisurely walk to the western gates, unaccosted by well-wishers or councilmembers. The latter would need to learn to start approaching his eldest instead of bothering him and he did not envy Artoirel the new challenges that would befall Ishgardian politics in the coming days. Perhaps he should take a shortcut by the central square, purchase a sweetbread for the Warrior and tuck it away until he could see them again...

The requested chocobos had been saddled and prepared by the time Edmont finished his sundry distractions. Ransoix and Ninne bowed to him as he approached, and he promptly waved away Ninne's offer of help as he went to mount one of the birds. They kweh'd softly at him and he stroked their feathered neck.

"All ready, my lord?"

Edmont nodded at Ransoix.

"Let us not tarry."

~~~

"And I says to 'im, take your coeurl and keep it in the bloody house-"

"-He has a name, and I told you, Eirik, he's far too clever for that, Ser Aymeowric keeps undoing the latches-"

"-ing stop with knitting it little booties too, 'e's encouraging destruction of property-"

"Don't be daft, he's just a kitten, he wouldn't hurt a fly, well, he would if he could but he falls over his feet more oft than not-"

Lorraine massaged her forehead. The fishermen had not stopped bickering since she'd arrived and begun her inquiries. She tried to concentrate on the scene of the crime. Pieces of wood lay haphazardly across the snow from the epicenter of some great force. The snow was painted red with the blood of dozens of fish and their shed scales clung to her metal gauntlets as she shifted through the mess, searching for something more promising. The Warrior silently knelt next to her. They reached out and slowly brushed away a patch of disturbed snow, then curled their fingers into a gash carved into the ground.

"What's that?" She leaned over. "Definitely not a footprint."

They tilted their head, frowned slightly, and said nothing. Lorraine sighed and returned to her own investigations.

There- a glint of metal. It was the fish barrel's metal banding, left stranded after the wood it held together had been shattered.

She gently touched a band. It was ever so slightly twisted. She increased pressure on it, pinching it between her fingers.

The metal shuddered and cracked. Lorraine frowned.

"Going to have a word with them, ser?" Laias muttered. He was her second headache: newly knighted into house Durendaire's service, her second in command on this mission, and seemingly determined to make her career as difficult as possible. He gave her a sly smile, perhaps hoping for an angry response, but she only nodded and straightened to her full height. The Warrior remained kneeling for a moment longer before joining her in silence. She felt their elbow brush against hers as they crossed their arms.

'Concentrate. You're not some little lordling meeting his hero.'

"Enough." She said curtly. "It's clear no kitten did this. No, I don't care how big it is, it couldn't have blown apart a barrel of fish, frozen the bands to the point they shattered with light pressure, and eaten the entire catch."

"What do you think did it?" That was the Elezen fisherman.

"It's too early to say for sure. We can rule out natural causes; there was a spell used on this barrel."

"Come to think of it, there was quite the nasty blizzard last night, too." He stroked his beard. "Do you think they're related?"

"It's a possibility we can't ignore." Laias cut in, and Lorraine bit back a retort. "It would have buried any convenient footprints. These hit-and-run tactics are common to Dravanians and while they are usually more, hmm... tactful about their targets, they may be in the last legs of a deeper and desperate plan."

The Warrior frowned and shook their head. "We made peace, and I've seen Dravanian attacks. They don't work like this."

"We aren't here to spread rumors, ser." She reached up to lay a warning hand on his shoulder. "Don't scare these good people with something we will solve. Besides, whatever evil is behind this, we have the Warrior on our side."

"The Warrior of Light?" The Hyur fisherman gasped. He looked at them with stars in his eyes, as if expecting them to grow wings and take off. They gave him a sheepish smile and looked pleadingly to Lorraine for aid, but they were both saved as one of her soldiers ran up and shot off a perfect salute.

"Captain! Lookouts are stationed!"

"Oughta be proud of your people, captain." The Hyur commented to Laias. "Thanks for keepin' us safe while y' do your investigatin."

A vein twitched on Lorraine's forehead. "Thank you for your report, soldier. You were stationed on the western border, correct? We could use your experience. We're heading into the forest to try and pinpoint the location of the last disappearance: an Ul'dahn merchant and their mount. I want your eyes and ears on our flanks, and tell me if you see signs of ice magic."

The soldier glowed with praise. She watched the face under that helmet and thick blue hair turn red. "Ser!"

"Well, that's that." Laias shrugged off her hand. "I am ready, Captain. What about our hero?"

She looked sideways questioningly. They nodded.

"What determination!" Laias patted his sword. "I, for one, will keep one eye to the sky and work on my confident nods, since I know the Warrior of Light has the rest of our little party covered."

~~~

'Upon the backs of black-feathered chocobos, sailing through ice-blue skies and borne aloft by the wind; into the western lands torn by calamity and mistrust, they came.' He brushed an errant strand of hair away from his goggles and smiled ruefully at the back of his mount's head. He could not have felt any further from his comfortable office. Only last night had he been thinking of a hot bath and soft sheets; waking up in the morning to do his stretches during the quiet birth of dawn. The house staff rose even earlier to stoke the flames of every hearth, and not a day went by did he not appreciate their efforts.

Edmont turned his face away from the chocobo and to the homestead. He could see the colors of houses Dzemael and Durendaire from here; soldiers in their colorful livery were posted at regular intervals between the small huddle of houses, the eaves of the forest, and the lake. Sunlight glinted on patches of frozen blue where snow had been cleared away and buckets set down, while a fisherwoman bent double over her saw cut a circular hole into the ice.

He pushed his shaded goggles onto his forehead as a lookout spotted them. When they started to jog over, he raised his hand and spurred his mount to close the distance instead.

"Count Edmont." The soldier quickly masked her surprise with a deep bow. "What brings you to these humble parts?"

"I heard the Warrior of Light is investigating a magical occurrence within the hamlet." Edmont replied. "I have... urgent news for them and could not risk them departing Ishgard's boundaries before it was delivered."

"Urgent news?" She hesitated. "I am sorry, my lord-" Edmont braced himself. "-but the Warrior left about an hour ago to search the forest with the rest of our command. They should be back shortly. I can send a runner to request their presence?"

"No, you do not need to go to such lengths. I would not disrupt your operation."

"But it's urgent, my lord. It would be my honor to assist you and the Warrior however I can."

"I will wait." Edmont's knees cracked as he hoisted himself off the chocobo. He unstrapped his cane from the saddle and allowed Rinne to take the reins of both of their mounts as they followed the lookout into Eirik's hamlet, moving at a slower pace to accommodate him. Upon the streets of Ishgard, he had no trouble keeping up with others. Out in the borderlands his cane dragged in the snow until they came closer to the homestead's boundaries and shoveled paths; each roof laden under a white burden and every shutter closed against the chill.

The soldier bowed at they stopped in the middle of the square then walked at speed back toward her post.

A snowflake landed on the top of his nose. He blinked and looked up.

'Snow?'

"Weather's changed." Rinne observed. "Would you like to go inside, my lord?"

Homesteaders were starting to clump into groups, all of them staring at the sky. A couple were murmuring to one another.

Edmont shook his head. He took a deep breath and let it out, allowing the gently drifting flakes to soothe his frustration. If the lookout said they would be back soon, then he believed them. He would wait for the Warrior however long it took.

~~~

The Warrior lingered on the edges of their group as the Ishgardians picked their way through the frozen forest. While the soldier, Lorraine, and even Laias walked cautiously and with one hand on their swords, they seemed completely at ease. They hadn't reached for their weapon once. Lorraine tried to ignore the prickling feeling at the back of her neck. It had to have been the trees- they grew tall and thick, crowding around them in a way that Ishgard's soaring cathedrals could never match; and they exuded a silence so strong it was almost tangible. The clanking of their armor was the only noise for malms. She found herself almost wishing whatever it was they were hunting would just jump out and die upon their blades.

Watery grey light filtered between three trunks to their left.

"There's a clearing up over there." Lorraine noted. "Let's take a look." The party altered their course. One by one, they slipped under ladened boughs and into the clearing and into knee-deep snow.
Ancient pines stood council around a jagged grey boulder. It was slowly losing its battle against the elements, half-buried in snow and nearly consumed by lichen. What little of it was untouched, was splattered with dried blood.

"Oh, shit."

The blue-haired soldier cursed quietly. Lorraine privately echoed her sentiment. She walked over to a section of snow three feet away from the boulder where more blood had collected and bent down, digging through but coming up empty-handed.

"Someone died over here." She stared at the ground, frustrated. "There's far too much blood but no body. They must have been moved."

"What do you think, hero?" Laias called loudly as he picked up a handful of snow. He flipped his blonde ponytail over his shoulder. "They were moved, but Lorraine thinks the snowfall is too thick to follow the trail properly. I believe whoever killed these people didn't kill them at all. They're probably in a heretic's lair by now, just waiting to be sacrificed in some manner of heinous ritual..." He trailed off. The Warrior was staring up at a tree. They gave no indication they had heard him. "...hero?"

With a small nod more to themselves than directed at any Ishgardian, they walked to the base of the tree and wrapped their hands around the lowest branch. Knights and soldier alike watched open-mouthed as they easily hoisted themselves up and continued to climb, as if scaling ice-and-snow laden boughs was something they did every day.

"Okay..." The soldier muttered to Lorraine. She nudged her and pointed as a large chunk of snow hit the forest floor. "Who wants to catch them? Not it."

"We are in an INVESTIGATION. Hey, get down. Is this behavior befitting Ishgard's hero? I'm not finished explaining where we should go next. Get down here. Please?"

Her companion giggled softly under her breath as she watched the knight's dignity bleed out of every increasingly despairing word. "High-and-mighty is going to have a heart attack if they fall and he has to explain himself to the Lord Commander. I think Ser Aymeric would kill him."

"Not if the Fortemps kill me first. He's under my command today, remember? And Dravanians, seriously. If this were Dravanians, then their own people wouldn't be going missing. I would order him into line if he didn't deserve to get taken down a peg."

"That's it." Laias strode over to the shaking pine. "I know not what business occupies you now or what fascinates you about climbing trees in the middle of a mission, but my team and I must needs continue lest someone else disappears."

Thump.

He let out an unholy shriek as a body thudded to the ground at his feet. The Warrior peered out of the topmost branches and blinked down at him.

"Coeurls hide their prey in trees." They said simply, and jumped down to a graceful landing.

Lorraine hurried over with a hand on her sword. The body was that of a grown Lalafell, gender unknown. Their heavy furs were soaked with blood from the neck down and their intestines spilled out of a massive gash in their abdomen. She knelt next to the body and murmured a prayer before she began to search through their pockets for any identifying objects. It would have been easier to identify the victim if their head was still attached. As it was, the body's neck ended in a bloody stump. She heard retching from behind her.

"Calm yourselves." Lorraine ordered as she pulled a thin gold bracelet out of the Lalafell's coat pocket. It was almost certainly of Ul'dahn make. "With the richness of their attire and the cut of their coat, this is certainly one of our missing merchants..." She stared up at the Warrior in wonder. "How did you know they were there? And how do you know it's a coeurl? We don't get those big ones around here."
They shrugged.

"I saw clawmarks in a few places. Smelled but didn't see a body. Also smelled wet coeurl fur back in the hamlet."

"Oh. Nevertheless, well done. Do you think you could track them?" The Warrior was already shaking their head. Snow slid off their hair and coated their shoulders. "Why not?"

"None of us are bloodhounds." Laias rejoined them. He was green in the face and sounded slightly peeved. "Coeurl or Dravanian, this affair is evidently magical in part... but we all can agree that the beast, if that is what it is, has not moved on yet. Do you see the boundaries of this clearing? Snow is piled up in a circular ring around the base of these trees, facing inwards. Nowhere else in this forest that we've seen so far has it laid on so thick, or so high up the trees. Either a particularly impish snow-shoveler passed through... or something with the ability to control ice-aspected aether."

"You do have a brain." Lorraine smiled in his direction, and softened her words with a dip of her head. "I agree. Secondly, it must still be in the area. This body is several days old." She smoothed the Lalafell's coat as best as she could; the blood within in had frozen stiff and rendered it as hard as a board. "It hasn't come back for old prey yet, so it must have just eaten... or is finding plenty, without needing to hunt."

Understanding dawned in Laias' eyes.

"The fishermen's catch."

"The fishermen's catch." She nodded.

"But..." The blue-haired soldier spoke up. "What happens when it runs out of fresh fish?"

"It starts hunting again." Lorraine stood, a grim set to her jaw. "We need to get back to the homestead."

~~~

"My lord!" Ser Ransoix shouted. Edmont braced himself against the next gust of wind. In hindsight, it had not been the greatest idea to walk out onto the lake and strike up a conversation with a local when a storm had started to brew. Yet... he thought he knew Coerthas. He'd seen all of its horrendous moods, from pre-Calamity thunderstorms to the blizzards that plagued modern days. The clouds that had gathered and begun shedding snow had escalated from a light fall into a near-whiteout within the space of a minute. "Help is coming! Stay where you are!" The Count planted his cane against the ice and leaned into it.

'Halone, help everyone stranded outside the homestead today. He prayed. 'Your fury is greater than this. We are greater than this.'

As if his prayers had been answered, the snowfall abated ever so slightly. He was able to see soldiers rushing onto the ice with drawn swords. He pulled his coat collar up higher and huddled into it, eyes fixed on their blades. There were two knights among them; a tall golden-haired Elezen man and a shorter woman in Dzemael colors. He tried to recall their names. Larris? Laias? And, of course, the illustrious Lorraine. The faintest tinge of fear crawled into his throat and held. He didn't see the Warrior. He didn't see-

"Lord Edmont?"

Edmont whipped around to his right. The Warrior stood there openmouthed. They too had drawn their blade, and for a wild moment he wondered how they could possibly fight a storm.
Common sense reasserted itself.

"My friend." Edmont dipped his head. "You have excellent timing. I take it you've tracked down the mages responsible for the disappearances?"

"Not mages." They replied shortly. "The way is clear. I'll cover you- head for the homestead and don't look back." Something about their voice brooked no argument. He'd only seen them like this once before. Haurchefant lay cold in his grave, and a steely light burned in their eyes as Edmont gave them his shield. "Please."

He startled. They were looking at him just as intently.

"Very well." He reached out and clasped their shoulder. "Be safe-"

The ground shook as a huge shape bounded out of the whirling snow and leapt onto the nearest person. Laias screamed as silvery claws shredded his chainmail like paper, mouth opening wide as it lowered its misshapen head toward his own-

-and sizzling white light struck it in the side a second before it closed its jaws around the Warrior's blade. Bile rose in Edmont's throat at how close their face was to its slavering maw and yet they seemed unaffected, only stepping back enough to allow Lorraine to slip beneath the beast's stomach and pull Laias to safety.

The beast growled through its teeth. Drool dripped down its opponent's gauntlets and into the snow. No ordinary coeurl could have had the strength to hold a sword between its teeth, Edmont knew. They did not occur naturally in this part of the world. Nothing about this beast was natural, from its unusually thick and shaggy white fur to the muzzle that seemed more wolf than coeurl-like. Yet there was no mistaking the twin tails that sprouted from its head, nor the silent grace with which it moved its considerable bulk. It pulled its lip back and bared fangs glittering blue as the ice.

The Warrior maintained a tight grip on their weapon. He hadn't even seen the moment they'd moved to intercept.

"There you are." They said softly. They locked eyes with the creature as behind them, soldiers and knights ran into position. Its answering howl echoed over the lake, long and torturous and challenging all at once, and froze the blood in Edmont's veins. It snapped its head sideways and leapt back. The Warrior flipped as they sailed through the air so they could land feet-first on the ice and slid to a stop in front of Edmont. The coeurl's howl turned into a roar and it sprang, charging forwards, unsheathed claws digging into the ice and hurling it at frightening speed. Light shone in front of the Warrior's left arm as they manifested a shield and planted themselves firmly in the beast's path.

'By the Fury, they're going to take them head on!'

"Move back, my lord." The warrior said lightly. "Either I'll draw it away, or we'll end up in a game of coeurl-and-mouse."

The words slipped out of Edmont's mouth before he could stop them. Perhaps it was the stress of the situation, of the monster bearing down upon them. Perhaps it was the emotional ride of eye-opening conversations he had had with his sons the night before. Whatever it was, he could not take it back.

"My child, is this really the time for levity?" He snapped, and slipped as he attempted to back away at speed. The Warrior turned and stared, their eyes wide.

"What?"

Darkness loomed behind them. He opened his mouth to cry a warning just as the giant creature bore down. Ice shattered with a deafening crack, and the last thing he saw before the Warrior disappeared beneath the surface was a flash of blue light.

Edmont scrambled backwards. The ice was still cracking, falling away at the edges as the force of the beast's strike and its continued weight sent fractures rippling through a frozen lake that had withstood the boots of countless trespassers cracking breaking screaming as it fell piece by growing piece into the depths of the lake and wait, that scream was the beast's as it too fell, clawing at empty air as the blizzard howled.

He could not tell the exact moment the ice broke beneath him. Searing cold pierced his lungs and it was only due to years of training that he did not open his mouth to cry out as well. He was Ishgardian, and a former knight besides. Ice was not bred into their bones, but forged through the changes the Calamity wrought and every citizen under Halone's eyes knew how to fight back against the cold that claimed their home. The most dangerous moment was the moment of submersion: If one remained calm, they could soothe their shocked body and spur it into movement. He steeled his mind and pushed the encroaching cold away from him; he sliced a hand through the water and reached desperately for the fading light above.

Too slow. His crippled leg seized as he attempted to kick towards the surface.

Every Ishgardian knew how to strive, yet he was an old and broken man. Below him he could see the beast sinking fast. The Warrior was nowhere in sight. Cold crept into his heart and settled there. He gasped, no longer able to hold his breath, and water rushed in. Darkness clouded the edges of his vision.

'Ah...' Edmont closed his eyes against the water's sting. 'At least they know.'

...

......

Something grabbed him around the waist and pulled him up. He emerged, choking, into the freezing air; dark spots flickering before his eyes as the adrenaline of rescue faded and he fell limp in someone's arms. Clean armor, no house colors, a sword with tooth marks in it. The Warrior.

"You d-drowned." He managed to stammer through frozen lips. They did not reply.

He was dimly aware of the Warrior barking orders. Their hands bustled him through a door into a dark, warm house. Someone was peeling off his jacket. The room smelled like fish. He closed his eyes for a moment...

Softness enveloped him. He came to sitting next to a fire and swathed in someone's blanket.

'Most likely a local's.' Edmont thought mutely. His thoughts felt like they too had been covered in wool. Little embroidered sheep ran up and down the sides of the blanket. 'That was kind of them, to lend me such a well-crafted piece.

"I'll be back." Someone kissed his forehead. He recognized that voice. "Please rest."

"Warrior-"

They were gone. He lowered his hand, reached sideways for his cane-

His hand came up empty. That was right... he'd lost it when he had broken through the ice. Edmont gripped his bad knee. The quiet beneath the ice had been absolute. His world had shrunk down to the rushing of blood in his ears and a weight greater than all the sins of the world pulling him into the depths.

...Was the coeurl even dead? He nearly got up and walked outside at the thought of the Warrior heading back out there. He drew his blanket tighter and tried to focus on the crackling fire, and despite himself, fell asleep.

When he next woke he was not alone.

The Warrior was quietly sipping from a cup of hot tea next to him. They set it aside as they felt him stir.

"Lord Edmont. How do you feel?"

"I..." He cricked his neck and experimentally rolled his shoulder. "I am all right. What became of the creature? You appear to be uninjured."

They nodded. "It drowned. I just got back from treating the wounded. They are staying in the headman's house."

"Eirik... yes. So the beast is dead." A spark jumped out of the fire and fell, glowing, onto the hearthstones. Edmont watched the orange light flicker and die. "That is good. What of the knight it attacked?"

"It ambushed a lookout before attacking us, but her armor spared her from being cut in half. They'll both live."

"And how do you feel?" Edmont asked softly. "You went under the ice first, and then you must have come back. What possessed you to act so rashly?"

They shrugged, smiled, looked away. "I didn't want to lose you."

His heart plummeted.

"Oh, child." He reached out and placed his hands on their shoulders. "Look at me." Slowly, unwillingly, they shifted in place until they were opposite one another. His gaze searched their face. They were smiling and yet it was a strained smile, the corners of their mouth pinched as if they were fighting to keep it steady. "Forgive me for putting you and I in danger. I am all right... We are all right." He looked down and squeezed his eyes shut. 'I may never get another chance.' "I worry for you, Warrior of Light. You always stride confidently into the unknown, serving yourself as the final bastion between hope and despair; the untouchable champion of truth. But... you are more than that. You are selfless, and kind, and very dear to me. To Artoirel. To Emmanellain, even if he would not admit it. I worry for you as a friend... and as a father."

They were silent. Uncertain, Edmont made to draw his hands away; but before he could the Warrior leaned forward and wrapped their arms around him, burying their face in the crook of his neck. His hands hovered awkwardly over their back until he overcame his surprise and embraced them.

"You will always be as family to us." Edmont murmured. He stroked their hair soothingly as they clutched him tighter. "And while I have long considered you to be my child, I and my sons would have it made official."

"...'m not going to be home often." They mumbled into the wool.

"We won't be going anywhere." They leaned back and he brushed their hair away from their face. "Either way, I will respect your decision."

He'd bared his feelings. All he could do was wait, and watch, as the Warrior's brows furrowed in thought.

"...Okay." They exhaled, and smiled. "Let's go home, father."

Notes:

Dadcula... you're gonna have to re-write those adoption papers. Shouldn't have put them in your pocket.

Coming Next: Ishgardians have mixed reactions to an outsider joining a noble house, and the Warrior is coping well with having a family. Really. They're coping.