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From the cutting winds in the Sea of Clouds. To the frozen wastelands beyond the Falcon’s Nest. Then the hot sands of Thanalan were to follow where he toiled to free the Flame General whilst battling in a coliseum filled with poison mist that burned his throat and lungs. On the same day, returned to Ishgard after receiving word of another Dravanian attack. The days were blurring together in this perfect storm but he doesn’t resent a single duty. Raubahn is alive. The Sultana too may yet be alive. He hasn’t failed them entirely at least and if he kept forging onwards, mayhaps he would even find word of his missing Scions.
Though they had returned to the cold climes of Ishgard, he still felt his blood boiling. He took his helmet off upon entering Fortemps Manor and ran gauntleted fingers across sweat-matted hair. Mayhaps it was the rage he still felt from when he had no choice but to allow Ilberd and his fellow turncoats to escape. His hands had shook around his spear with fury then, knowing they had to turn their backs to prioritize Raubahn’s safety above all else.
As they set foot past the threshold to the great hall, he stumbled and caught himself against the door.
“Is aught amiss?” asked Alphinaud as he reached out a hand to help steady him.
He shook his head and pushed himself back upright so the door could close behind them, “I’m fine.” His head was pounding, and he pressed a palm to his forehead, groaning.
“Is it another vision?” asked Alphinaud.
"Might be," he said with a strained voice, though he's never felt one that made his head throb like this.
“My friend?” he heard Haurchefant say with a tone of worry he hasn’t had to hear since Lord Francel was under accusation for being a heretic.
He watched in a daze as the manor tilted and tried to throw him off his feet. He heard Alphinaud cry out his name in alarm, his helmet clattered to the floor with an ugly metallic ring and the last thing to fill his vision was Haurchefant’s concerned face above him as he was caught in the man’s arms before he fell into a dark abyss.
-----
When he woke, he found himself relieved of his armor and tucked into a large bed. He blinked at the dimly lit room and from the wallpaper, he saw that he was still in Fortemps Manor. This place was too big to be his guest room though, and there were a pair of dolls shaped like black chocobo chicks perched on the bed stand next to his head. Those definitely were not part of his room.
"You're awake," said Haurchefant. He tilted his face towards the voice to see the man get up from the couch by the fire. He withdrew an arm from the blankets to get up and found himself unsettled when he flopped uselessly back onto the pillows.
“Pray be still,” said Haurchefant as he crossed the room.
He opened his mouth to say something, but all that came from his throat was a dry hiss. His limbs were as lead, his throat on fire, and the blankets felt stifling but a chill wracked his spine.
“Let’s get you up for a moment,” said Haurchefant as he curled an arm underneath the bedridden man’s shoulders and eased him up to prop against the pillows. A wet towelette fell into his lap as he sat up, and Haurchefant picked it up to toss onto the bed stand next to them.
Even such minor contact had made his skin ache somehow. A cup of warm water was held to his lips followed by a mug of warm, thick soup and he supped on both gratefully. He lifted a heavy hand up to hold the mug himself, but Haurchefant did not let go until he’d had his fill.
He sighed as the mug was dropped onto the bed stand and rasped out, “The hells happened?”
“According to the chirurgeon, you’ve fallen ill with influenza,” said Haurchefant.
“Is that an Ishgardian thing?” he asked.
Haurchefant chuckled, “I doubt it’s specifically Ishgardian, but tis a common affliction on those that dwell in colder climes.”
“I’ve not felt this awful since I was a child,” he whispered, “Can’t they just cast curatives on me until it goes away?”
“Were it so simple, twould already have been done,” said Haurchefant as he stood and walked over to a basin that had been placed on a stand, rolling up the sleeves of his gray shirt, “The way the chirurgeon put it, your aether was drastically drained. A combination of exposure to too many sudden weather changes heavily exacerbated by exerting yourself in poisoned air. She said you will only begin to feel better as your aether recovers from bedrest.” Haurchefant dipped a towelette into the basin and gently wrung it out, then folded it into a little rectangle.
“What of the Dravanians?” he asked, they were the reason he came running back to Ishgard after all.
“They will not darken our gates so soon but preparations to defend against them have begun,” said Haurchefant.
“We should be out there,” he said. He groaned softly as Haurchefant helped him onto his back again.
“We will be. Just a matter of days,” said Haurchefant as he laid the folded towelette on his forehead.
He sighed at the cool relief it gave him and shivered, “You don’t have to stay with me, aren't you needed at Camp Dragonhead?”
“I have issued orders for my knights,” said Haurchefant, sitting down, “Even I must take a day or two for myself on the rare occasion. And I must apologize on House Fortemps’s behalf that we sent you running about with so little time to rest in between. We were to provide refuge and instead--”
"It's fine, we're grateful we even had somewhere to go," he said, "Besides, I'm alive and that's more than I can say about my friends…"
Haurchefant brushed away some of the hair that was trapped beneath the wet towel, “You allow too much burden to be placed on yourself. Someday, I hope to speak to you of this matter but for now… pray rest.”
He wasn’t sure it was a conversation he ever wanted to have, but he lacked the energy to protest it right now and closed his eyes. It didn’t take him long to fall back into slumber.
-----
He woke with a whimper when the heat became unbearable again and an ache had settled deep into his joints.
“I must admit that this is not what I had in mind when I said I wished to watch your muscles bulge as you sweat with exertion,” said Haurchefant humorously.
“Hmm whuh?” his brow curled together as he tried to decipher what Haurchefant said. A freshly cooled towel was placed on his forehead and he moaned appreciatively.
“O Halone, be merciful,” he heard Haurchefant whisper.
He pulled the towel from his forehead and pushed himself up shakily, “I think I need to go take a piss.”
He was allowed the dignity of walking away on his own two feet, at least. Fortunately he didn’t need to sit to relieve himself, he wasn’t sure his legs could handle it and he was right when he almost fell while trying to return to bed. Were it not for Haurchefant’s steadying hands, he might’ve found himself on the floor again.
“This is pathetic,” he complained. To be laid so low by mere illness. Was it the Blessing of Light that had shielded him from this in the years past? He hoped this wasn’t what he had to look forward to regularly now.
There was a knock at the door and Haurchefant let a visitor in.
“Hey Tataru,” he said, pulling his shirt closed modestly.
“Oh, you look terrible dear,” she said as she approached the bed with a plate of toast in her hands.
“Heh, I kind of feel it too,” he said admittedly.
“Alphinaud said you collapsed when you got back, but I’m glad to see you up. I thought you could use a snack,” she looked between him and Haurchefant, then raised the plate up towards Haurchefant who knelt down to accept it, “It’s buttered toast with a bit of cinnamon and sugar to help you get it down,” she patted her hands across her apron and looked to him expectantly. Haurchefant handed him the toast wrapped in a handkerchief. Even his jaw and teeth seemed to ache, but he hadn’t the heart to say no to Tataru and the food would probably do him some good so he gave it a nibble, “Mmm… delicious. You’re the best, Tataru,” he said, smiling at her.
“Please rest and feel better. And thank you for taking care of him, Lord Haurchefant,” she said, looking up at Haurchefant with her hands pressed together.
Haurchefant bowed to her, “Tis no bother at all, Mistress Tataru.” Tataru let herself out and closed the door behind her. He made an effort to eat the toast but could barely get a third of it down and sighed miserably. Haurchefant took the toast from him and handed him a tiny glass vial with the cork removed.
“What’s this?” he asked, looking through the liquid. It was lightly tinted green, at least from what he could tell in the firelight.
“A potion from the chirurgeon to relieve your fever and aches. Best to take it quickly,” said Haurchefant.
He tossed it back, squeaked in surprise and swallowed before he could retch it back up, “Augh, that’s disgusting.”
“Medicines often are,” said Haurchefant.
“Can I have some more of that toast?” he asked.
Haurchefant held the piece of toast out to him and he took two more bites of it straight from the man’s hand, then threw himself back into the pile of pillows and blankets miserably.
“Thanks, Haurchefant…,” he said as he curled up in a shivering ball again. He allowed Haurchefant to straighten him up and place a towel back on his head, then fell back to sleep.
-----
“Unngh... I’d rather fall off a cliff again,” he said when he woke from another pounding headache.
“Pray do not say such things,” said Haurchefant as he put down his book and sat up in the bed next to him to put a hand to the ailing man’s forehead.
“Sorry, I guess that’s insensitive with everything that happened to Lord Francel,” he said.
“Francel came out unscathed thanks to you, but the mere thought of harm coming to you again is more than I can bear,” said Haurchefant as he smoothed the other man’s hair back, “It seems your fever has broken at last.”
“Gods bless because I want a shower,” his nose wrinkled at the smell of dried sweat that clung to his nightshirt.
Haurchefant ordered a servant to have a bath drawn while he had a small meal of yet more soup. This time, he was able to hold the mug up himself.
-----
In the baths, he was stripped down to nothing and lowered into the tub of steaming water with Haurchefant’s help. Being soldiers, neither men were shy about being in company of nudity but he couldn’t help but feel rather self-conscious when Haurchefant remained fully clothed. His nervousness was abated swiftly by the comfort of clean, hot water though. It must’ve been days since he’d showered or bathed properly. He brought hands cupped full of water up to closed eyes and sighed loudly at how good it felt, his voice echoing on the walls.
“I would wash your hair for you. That is, if you have no protests,” said Haurchefant.
“Way I am now, I’d probably do a horrendous job of it myself so I’d be grateful,” he said.
He grabbed a washcloth and lathered it with soap just as Haurchefant did the same. He began to scrub himself starting with his face, then down to his shoulders. Haurchefant scrubbed a soapy towel into his hair and then nails scraped gently across his scalp. He couldn’t hold back a moan when fingers brushed warm water behind his ears and fingers massaged his temples. He leaned back against the edge of the tub and just laid there to enjoy the attention for once. Water sloshed against hollow ceramic as Haurchefant splashed some on top of his head to lather the soap up more.
He could probably fall asleep like this. Were it not for a stream of water spilling across the bridge of his nose to prevent him from doing exactly that, making his expression wrinkle up.
“It wouldn’t do for you to fall asleep just yet,” said Haurchefant. A small metal pitcher was dipped into the bath by his shoulder so it could be poured over his head to clean all the soap out of his hair. A few more passes and Haurchefant determined it clean enough.
“I’ll do your back as well,” said Haurchefant, “pray sit up on the edge for me.”
Haurchefant helped him perch on the lip of the tub and the man passed the soapy towel thoroughly across his back and over the tops of his buttocks. He said nothing of the fingers that lingered for too long on the seal below his nape, a mark that appeared on his body after the calamity and never left. He shivered as the water cooled against his skin.
“That should do,” said Haurchefant, “I’ll leave you to clean the rest of yourself off for a while.”
He was lowered back into the bath and his breath caught when he looked up to thank Haurchefant. The elezen’s white shirt was soaked through all down his front. White fabric made sheer from moisture clung to pink skin and wrapped tightly against the elezen’s nipples. He could see the muscles of the man’s arms flex against the wet fabric when Haurchefant pushed himself up from the tub, and he swallowed speechlessly.
Did he gape at the man the entire time until he left the bathing room? He hoped that wasn’t the case. He focused on scrubbing the rest of his body clean now that all distractions were removed from his sight.
----
Haurchefant returned some minutes later to help him out of the bath and into fresh clothes.
They sat by the fire in Haurchefant’s room and chatted for a spell at Haurchefant’s insistence that he not sleep with his hair wet.
The comfort of cleanliness and Haurchefant’s voice soon lulled him to sleep in the chair and he barely stirred when he was carried back to bed.
-----
It took another day of mostly sleeping for him to fully recover his strength. The chirurgeon had stopped by to visit as well, a hyuran woman of dark skin and hair, small in stature. She commended him on his quick recovery and reassured him that this would not become a common affliction for him if he could make sure to allow himself time to rest regularly.
By the third day, he was fully recovered and donning the armor of a dragoon. He traded words of encouragement with Haurchefant and they both set out to attend to their duties once more.