#haurchefant POV

[sunderedazem]

Soulshards (Ch 4)

Self-Appointed Sibling (Mid-ARR, Coerthas)

Chapter rating: Gen, No Archive Warnings Apply, Sickfic

Summary:

Coerthas is a cold place, and its clime is cruel to foreigners used to the sunny warmth of southern Eorzea. Especially if they're the type to push too hard and too fast, and burn the candle at both ends, as is the young Scion now grumbling and feverish in one of Camp Dragonhead's sickrooms.

Haurchefant will see them well, however. It's the least he can do - and Count Edmont de Fortemps agrees wholeheartedly.

(Haurchefant POV. Set just before the Stone Vigil)

Ao3 Link!

Start Snippet: There was only so much the poor lad could take, and if what Haurchefant had heard from the young Miqo’te’s erstwhile companions was true, his troubles had begun far earlier than his arrival in Coerthas, unpleasant as it must have seemed at the time. Nay- the grief he must have carried to this point must have finally worn him through. To no surprise, to be sure – the young man had already been all over Coerthas it seemed, rescuing members of House Durendaire, House Haillenarte, and even his own House Fortemps from both heretics and false accusations of heresy. And while Haurchefant had at first only allowed a passing interest and sympathy for the Scions’ pleas to find their missing airship, Corrain’s single-minded drive and soft-smiling dedication to simply making the world he lived in better had entirely stolen away the hearts of those around him. Lord Portelaine and Lord Drillemont of House Durendaire and the young Lord Francel of House Haillenarte, among many others, all now looked upon him with both respect and the warm affections one would afford to a folk hero. And Haurchefant himself found that he should be included in that number, though not unwittingly. Thus endeared, he’d taken it upon himself to provide for the young warrior and his companions now, both as thanks for unmasking Guillaime as a false Inquisitor and heretic to boot, and as- well, a mere expression of his own gratitude for the pleasure of making Corrain’s acquaintance.

[endless-nightshift]

This is my boyfriend! And this is my husband (he's dead). That wonderful lady over there is my wife! That guy passed out on the couch is my good friend who I kiss on occasion. The man spouting prophecies is my co-parent to those kids in fighting in the hallway. That tall man looming grumply in the corner is not my boyfriend yet but he will be.

And this orange crystal is a gift from the boyfriends of my past self from before the world ended (the first time) one of them is actively trying to kill current me and all my friends.

Oh! And that message scrawled in the blood of innocents is from my Bitch! Sorry my Nemesis. Honestly he really wants to kiss me but he won't admit it to himself so he keeps orchestrating elaborate world ending catastrophes so I'll fight him. We're working on it

[bydusklight]

Happy Starlight! ⭐

[sanctuary-101]

(one) Cover for my current huge fanfic project Hellbound! I just realized I never posted the covers here but I'm fixing that!

Anyways this AU is like a darker, more dramatic version of Heavensward where Aymeric usurps Thordan as the Archbishop and tries to fix Ishgard while committing a couple crimes. You know, as one does. I wouldn't really say villain Aymeric AU? More like... yeah sort of villain Aymeric where he's super opportunistic and not above doing scummy things to push Ishgard into the direction he considers "right."

Aymeric isn't the sole main character of this AU- it's technically him, Haurchefant, and my WoL sooooo if you're into that yk...

Anyways it's on AO3 right now with six chapters and monthly updates

[voidedleylines]

FFXIV Write 2024 Day 23: On Cloud Nine

In which a noble knight searches for his friend

Rating: G || No CWs apply || Heavensward setting || Haurchefant Greystone & Warrior of Light

Enjoy!

Haurchefant finds her in the decrepit inn room of The Forgotten Knight. The irony and cheek of it being dubbed Cloud Nine was not lost on the citizens of this city and he does wonder idly who even decided that was best.

He shakes his head, back to the task at hand. He opens the door gently to find her by the fire and she looks too lost in thought to care about her surroundings.

He almost feels bad for the intrusion, but it’s too late to turn back as she notes his presence with a small nod. Her blue eyes are dull and she just looks so, so exhausted. He can hardly blame her.

Haurchefant smiles warmly as he often does with her and gives a wave. “Apologies my friend I-you did not return to the Manor nor Camp Dragonhead my mind began to worry,” he says.

At that omission the smallest bit of color returns to her face and eyes. His stomach flips while his heart aches. They have not gotten to know much about each other during the moons between running from reginicide and finally convincing father to let her enter the city proper, but he feels he knows and has seen enough to think she deserves better than the world has treated her of late.

“I’m sorry to worry,” she says. “I went to find Tataru here and then I kind of just…stumbled in here,” she looks around and gives a half-smile, “As it seems many have before me.”

He gives a hardy laugh at her joke and it puts a small but real, genuine smile on her face. Haurchefant gives a bigger one in return.

There’s something now that catches the corner of eye as it sits by the fireplace. A carbine, he thinks it is called. He lets out a low huff of a laugh, “I see you��ve been by the Manufactory. Stephanvien is always the eager one.”

She follows his gaze and looks at it confused, “I-yes I have met him. He seems…”

“Harmless, mostly,” he assures, “He has his quirks as we all do.”

“I guess that’s true,” she muses idly.

There’s a beat of silence that passes and only the crackle of the fire is heard. He feels himself grow nervous and he shuffles his feet.

“I can…apologies if this was an intrusion. If you wish to be alone I can-”

“No,” she cuts off sharply, already halfway to standing up. His mouth hangs open a moment at the sudden declaration. “I…if you would show me back to the Manor or if there’s any other places I should see I would…appreciate the company.”

He blinks a few times at her request. Truthfully he had much work to do back at Camp Dragonhead, as he always does, but the thought of leaving her right now seemed dangerous. So he thinks his station can handle his absence just a few bells longer.

Realizing she’s still waiting awkwardly on a response he smiles and lifts out his arm. She’s hesitant but she takes it and squeezes it tighter than he expects. Again his stomach flips and his heart aches and he wishes he could personally strike down all that which she fears.

They walk out the room together and back into The Forgotten Knight. Patrons no doubt stare at them but he doesn’t care, and hope she doesn’t either.

They spend the better part of an afternoon together as he shows her every ilm of his fair city. When he finally drops her back off at the Manor she seems utterly exhausted, but there’s a life back in her eyes that wasn’t there when he first came to find her, so he smiles brightly and bids her farewell with a bow.

“Thank you, Haurchefant,” she whispers.

“Of course, my friend.”

[beachybcnes]

look at my boy, i demand that you do so

/showleft ✨✨

[bnuuywol]

i made an elf boy version of him

[somakaigo]

POV you're trying to lecture your friend for making you worry but they keep looking at you with pure adoration

[nen-the-pigeon]

POV: you asked Haurchefant to stir up your coffee

[oyoshi-art]

Pov: you are edmont fortemps and your son has been gesturing wildly and talking about the warrior of light's splendid bulging muscles for 4 hours

Hey haurchefant lovers how we feelin tonight!!!

[sayonaramidnight]

What does Papa Fortemps think of Helvi?

There are things about her he has never included in his writing.

Like the discomfort she expressed at first, being served and attended to at his estate, and stayed mostly at the inn instead.

Or how she scared the hell out of some of his staff, roaming around in the middle of the night like a ghost, because she was haunted by nightmares.

Or how much time she spent at the stables, cooing at her black chocobo, or flying over the city, making loud happy noises and stopping by the random tall buildings and towers, claiming them for her own, even just for a few moments.

Or how proudly and joyfully she wore the bracelet Haurchefant had given her.

Or how pained her expression was when he wished to be left alone, so he could mourn his son in private, only to realize much later, how she must have interpreted his behaviour.

Some of these did not fit the theme of his records.

Some were simply too personal to include.

There are many other things about her he has written down. Good things. Inspiring things. All true. But sometimes he asks himself how she would like his portrayal of herself.

But he has not dared to ask her yet.

NPC PoV asks!

[shiratamako]

Hi!!! 👋 I was hoping that you could write a snippet from Aymeric’s POV about your girl! 🥰

Flesh and Blood

882 Words, Pining and Heavy Angst Set after As Goes Light, So Goes Darkness Heavensward Patch 3.1

The Warrior of Light had been unnaturally quiet after rescuing the hostages from the basilica. The scream of a child being thrown from the height of the spires still rang in Aymeric’s ears, even if Vidofnir rescued the blameless girl. Dressed in blackest coat, she was always close to him, trying her best to keep up with his pace. She gave her benediction to restore his vitality, yet she could still not offer a smile or cheer on the events that should be cause for celebration.

When Count Edmont said that he saw much of Haurchefant in him, that was when he heard the White Mage give a strangled gasp, her mouth twisted in silent anguish. Her eyes glistened as she stymied her grief, her eyes narrowing to prevent the flow of tears. The staff in her hand trembled as she struggled to hold it.

Without warning, she took off, leaving the Scions and the crowd unceremoniously as she hurried down the steps. He looked to Lucia and gave a nod. He would see to her safety himself, descending the stairs swiftly after her.

“Shira!” he called out her name instinctively as she headed in the direction of the cathedral. Aymeric caught up to her. He approached her, trying to make his presence small rather than to seem as though he was hunting her down. Her gaze was downcast as she refused to look at him.

He wished to reach a hand out to her. He wished he was closer.

He wished he was Haurchefant.

As Aymeric, he felt like he could do nothing. He was utterly powerless before her unalloyed pain.

Aymeric made his voice exceedingly soft, speaking through his throat in barely above a murmur. All consonants lost their harshness, fading into sumptuous whispers with a faint, warm rasp like a crackle in a hearth.

“Was it Lord Edmont’s words? I know you grieve still,”

She shook her head fervently, denying it. He knew there was no cause to deny it. He knew Shira would have been truthful — after all, Haurchefant came to him one night, announcing of his happy decision. The Silver Fuller spoke of the promise that he would be engaged to Shira. He wanted to protect her smile, to cherish all their happy days together.

For that, Haurchefant needed a ring and a suitable goldsmith to create an oath given form. That was why he went to Aymeric for assistance in recommending the finest artisan in all of Ishgard. Even though Haurchefant was unable to fulfil his promise to her, Shira still wore the ring on her left ring finger.

Aymeric spoke again, as sensitively as he could. “Please, Shira. I want to know what troubles you so,”

Her voice was small and faint, choked out by her tears. “I saw a vision. An echo…”

She finally raised her eyes to meet his; her soft oceanic blues. The shadow of the cathedral created an annular glow around her irises.

“I— I could not save you in time, when you fight still wounded,” She spoked her hushed, diffused oracle of the ill portent she saw, afraid and breathless. “You fell, even when I fought my hardest to protect you. I could not bear… to see you fall.”

The tears fell down her cheeks, and his heart split in twain at her sincerity, her compassion for him. He offered Shira a grateful smile. Few reminded him of his mortality, that he too, was a man that was flesh and blood. Even in the past few days he carried on despite his wounds, as though he could not fall for his duty to witness a new era.

“Rest assured I am safe, in no small part thanks to you.”

He tenderly wiped a tear away with his thumb. He soon realised the gravity of his mistake when her eyes widened in terror, her breath seizing up at his touch as she drew away from him. He rescinded his hand immediately with regret at what he had done.

“Forgive my presumptuousness, I… only wished to dry your tears,”

He cursed his momentary lapse in judgment, though he refrained from showing it on his face. He felt himself so callow to think himself as a fairy tale knight. She was not a child in need of succor; he could not simply just wipe away her every tear with kind words.

Shira quelled her own disquiet, her breaths shaky as she wiped tears from her cheeks. She looked to Aymeric, though she could never meet his gaze.

“I understand, Ser Aymeric. Thank you regardless,” Hiding her own torment, her weak voice was stiff and invariant in tone. “Please excuse me. I think Lord Artoirel will be expecting me at Fortemps Manor.”

She bowed to him, overtly distant and formal in her parting. She walked over the bridge to the Last Vigil with hurried steps. As her form grew smaller on the horizon, Aymeric was left alone in the cold shadow of the cathedral.

“Fury, strike me down,” Aymeric rasped in his solitude. He curled his hand to his chest as he offered both a prayer and confession. For he too, was a man of flesh and blood and no better than any other.

“If I cannot give her peace, grant her your mercy.”

[thevikingwoman]

FFXIVWrite2024 - Prompt 16

Fortemps household dynamics fascinate me endlessly, so here is some barely grown-up Artoriel POV

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV | Words: 359 | read on Ao3

Artoirel de Fortemps | pre-ARR Rating: Teen. Character study, Ishgard society, Fortemps family, mention of infidelity (canonical), why is Artoirel the way he is? vague heavenwards spoilers

Third-rate

Artoirel de Fortemps doesn’t stop when he sees his little brother run past him, bloody nose and tears streaking down his face. He merely gets out of the way. Emmanellain doesn’t see him, his eyes on the ground as he rushes by. Probably running off to nanny, though he is far too big for that. Artoirel sneers, unbiddenly, and continues around the corner.

“Some third-rate knight he’ll be.”

“Third son, too.”

“More worthless than a bastard.”

This makes Artoirel pause. The statement is followed by raucous laughter. It would be unseemly to get in a fight over Haurchefant.

“Well, Haurchefant is a fine fellow.”

“For a bastard, aye.”

Someone snorts. “Don’t say that to his face. He trounced Delicrouxeus the other day. Mark my word, Count Fortemps will give him command of something.”

“Emond can’t even command his own dick.”

More laughter. Artoirel's ears burn. He bites his cheek. He cannot be unseemly. He needs to be above reproach. The Fury knows his brother isn’t going to be.

“Mayhap little Emmanellain is Halone’s punishment? A hapless idiot of a son.”

“Bet ol’ Edmont would have been happy with even another stick in the mud like Atoriel rather than Emmanellain.”

“If he kept himself true, he’d mayhap had a brave and personable trueborn son. They’d all be a third-rate House this way.”

His clenched fist hit the wall. Atoriel bites his cheek to keep from crying out. He cannot. His growth spurt done, he’d hardly get any taller, but he cannot take on three squires. He mustn’t.

“Kept himself pure – Haviellemont, you better learn that. I saw you with that wench in the Brume but two days ago.”

“And what were you doing there?”

The voices fade as Artoirel hurries away. He does not run. He is not his little brother. If only Emmanellain behaved proper, there would be no doubt about the honor of their house. He brings shame on them all. Artoirel reaches the fresh, crisp air. He cannot help his little brother’s follies. He simply must be a better example. Above reproach, the perfect heir. Father needs neither Haurchefant nor Emmanellain as long as Artoirel is peerless.

[ramyeonguksu]

For the NPC ask game: Alphinaud!

Wrote a little ficlet from Alphinaud's POV for Post-ARR/Heavensward! Read under cut!

Note: Rifra will be referred to as Seren (her alias from ARR-SHB) for this fic.

The freezing cold of Coerthas wasn't something Alphinaud was accustomed to, and having to essentially be forced to trek through the ilms of snow made the little elezen shiver in his boots. It was all bleak; everything that he had strived for with the Crystal Braves was taken away from him, a mutiny against him planned right under his nose. He was humbled, to say the least, and for once he because acutely aware of his childish naivete that came with his young age. Which each step he thought of the Scions that placed their trust in him, that was starting to become a new family for him, left behind at the mercy of his own army and the Brass Blades.

At least the Warrior of Light Seren and Tataru were with him, and Lord Haurchefant's bottomless generosity was able to grant them refuge in the reclusive nation of Ishgard, yet what was he supposed to do at this point? Even if he wanted to clear their names at Ul'dah. what could he even do to achieve that? Being the top of the Studium students wasn't going to cut it anymore, and he no longer had his twin sister Alisaie with him.

Just where was she anyway? She had helped them, sending Brennan the peddler with a chocobo carriage to take them away from Ul'dah, but where was Alphinaud's other half when he needed her the most?

The elezen tripped as his mind wandered, landing face first into the stone floor. Hearing him fall, Seren immediately rushed to his side.

"Are you alright there?" The viera asked, helping him sit up and dust off the snow. It was a wonder how she was able to withstand the cold, dressed somewhat lighter than what one would expect in a frigid climate, but someone like her who grew up in the freezing mountain ranges would have no problem with the temperature.

"I'm…" Alphinaud muttered, hesitation in his voice. "I'm fine, thank you."

"Make sure you don't get too distracted, Alphinaud!" Tataru warned him as she slowly approached him, fighting against the strong winds. "I'm already having a hard time getting through here, can't afford to have you struggle as well!"

Alphinaud didn't respond, the feeling of incompetence that was growing in him increasing exponentially.

Seren immediately took notice and crouched in front of him with her back towards him. "Climb on."

The boy refused. "N-no, I can keep going."

"You're exhausted, Alphinaud," Seren curtly responded. "A lot has happened today, and you need to rest. I'll carry you until we make it to a shelter in Ishgard."

Her head turned to face him, a reassuring smile on her lips. "Besides, I'm used to carrying my little sister home all the time."

Alphinaud pursed his lips together, his heart twisting as what remained of his ego fought to refuse her offer. However, today was not the time to try and preserve such, and he allowed himself to climb on her back before continuing across the Steps of Faith.

As he rested against her back, the boy reflected upon his experiences from the past several moons. Riding the same boat to Limsa Lominsa as Seren before getting to know her, separating from Alisaie over differences before finding her once more at the Coils of Bahamut, joining the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, forming the Crystal Braves… A lot, too much, had truly happened for a sixteen-summers-old child.

Alphinaud laid his head against Seren's shoulder, basking in her warmth as the cold winds blew against the three of them. When was the last time was he carried like this by anyone? His father Fourchenault began to drown in his work, and he was now too heavy for his mother Ameliance to hold him on her back like this. Without him realizing, Seren had practically become an older-sibling figure that he never had, a long-lost family member that he was supposed to have known all his life. Someone he could turn to for advice. Someone he could lean on for support...

Finding comfort in her presence, warmth against the freezing winds that threatened to stop them, Alphinaud drifted off to sleep.

[koukouture]

HEY YOU!!!!

Did you enjoy Heavensward? Do you like watching your favorite characters suffer? Do you like political plots? Do you miss our boy Haurchefant Greystone? Do you think Aymeric would make a sexy villain? DO YOU WANNA FUCK SOME ELEZEN????

If you say yes to any of the above, have I got the fic for you!!!!!

Hellbound is a dark alternate version of Heavensward where Aymeric will do anything for his nation see the light of day- and that includes killing and usurping his father to take the seat of Archbishop! Join Aymeric as he lies to everyone around him in service of Ishgard's future. How far will this charming bastard prince go for Ishgard? What is he willing to lose?

And the best part is; you don't have to wait!!! Hellbound chapters 1-4 are available on AO3 right fucking now!!!!!! With chapter 5 almost complete!!! (and hopefully up by the end of this week)

Here it is!!!!

Official description:

"Hellbound are we that sacrifice for what we love" The sins of the Holy See run deep; and in the end repentance alone cannot save the Jewel of Coerthas from her darkest hour. Thusly, his holiness Archbishop Haldrath IV, formerly Father Aymeric de Borel, has enlisted the help of the Warrior of Light to aid Ishgard in its plight. The shadows cast by Eorzea's guiding star are deep and dark- but she will prevail like before, no Bloody Banquet will come between her and glory. For the Fury decrees that Ishgard shall be built upon the sin of those who rule it; and the blood of the innocent that believe.

So step right up if you wanna see some political and religious fuckery from your (insane) chef Kouryuu!!!!

(Disclaimer: Hellbound does involve an OC x canon ship in the form of Haurchefant x my WoL, but the entire thing is not told from my WoL's perspective nor does it revolve around her completely as Aymeric and Haurchefant are also primary POV characters and as of right now have more words dedicated to their POVs than my WoL does. The HaurcheWoL plot is important for Hellbound however, and tbh I cannot blame you for not reading it because of the elephant in the room that is my OC)

[kytri]

Since AO3 seems to be back up and I guess that commenting event is going on here's a post of FFXIV fics I'm writing/have written. Everything is either Stephanivien/Artoirel or WoL/Haurchefant

Prelude https://archiveofourown.org/works/33705373 WoL/Haurchefant, complete 2900 words A little backstory/pre canon thing about my WoL, at the time I thought it would be the only thing I wrote about him. Sad but not for the reason you might think.

Like a Clear Night Sky https://archiveofourown.org/works/39709836 WoL/Haurchefant, complete 900 words Sort of a Haurche POV companion to the previous one. Should be fine to read alone but I think they work best as a pair. The Long Way Around https://archiveofourown.org/works/38033020 WoL/Haurchefant, on hiatus 48k words so far The Big WoLship fic, featuring a time loop and a rough MSQ follow along. "Confusing" "Boring" I hope to come back to it if I can convince myself it's not too shit to bother with.

Machina https://archiveofourown.org/works/41183763 Stephanivien/Artoirel, ongoing 42k words so far Propaganda to get people interested in this ship. I also spend a lot of time focusing on Artoirel's relationships with his family. It's set in my WoL's personal timeline and he features in it a bit but you don't need to read the fics about him to follow this one.

Rarepair Week https://archiveofourown.org/works/47847226 Stephanivien/Artoirel, complete 7k words total, chapters vary from about 500 to 1500 words Seven little themed vignettes about these two. Sort of in the Machina timeline but fine to read separately.

Bonus??? I have unpublished WiPs for an Aymeric/Artoirel oneshot about being sad and then fucking your friend and the very start of a Chlodebaimt/Foulques crackship but take it serious fic mostly about PTSD so far. So? Look forward to that I guess?