#emirin

She carefully slipped her flats off and went digging through the closet for the old slippers she had left here. It had become habit to leave a pair of slippers in every abode she considered a home; currently the count was up to five.

Her oldest pair resided in her childhood home of Shiokaze Hostelry, though they were from her early twenties pre-adventuring days. These fluffy pair were her second ones, gifted by Tataru their first Starlight in Ishgard. She had intended to bring them with her once she moved out into her own place after...the incident, but both Edmont and Artoirel insisted that she was like a daughter and a sister to them respectfully. So she left them behind. That left her apartment in the Crozier, her suite in Meghaduta, and the Leveilleur Estate - all much newer slippers (and nicer ones, as funds had improved during her journeys).

The doorman had given her entry but was as perplexed as she was to the fact that the house was quieter than usual. He knew Haurchefant was home, but assumed he must be resting. He did that a lot these days, Emi noticed. Her heart weighed heavy at the thought as she shuffled forward towards the North wing of Fortemps Manor.

It had been roughly a few years, but it seemed the guilt she carried in these halls was as heavy and profound as the first few days. Every time the scent of medicinal herbs and concoctions hit her, a new wave of remorse would wash over her. She wasn't sure how Estinien could tolerate it, given his heightened senses; surely the scents were so engulfing as to give him continual headaches. Mayhap that was why he was always so surly while keeping watch.

"It should've been me! You sweet, foolish man...it should've...been me..."

The words she had wailed over Haurchefant's comatose body had become a mantra, a burden she never truly learned how to carry properly or let go of. It was a weight that didn't drag her down but anchored her, frozen in time at the Vault. Sure, she had gone on with her life, seen new horizons and distant worlds. But this place was frozen in time and she with it.

As Emi raised her hand to knock on the suite's door, she heard murmuring from within. Haurchefant's personal doctor, from the sound of it. A sliver of light washed the left side of the frame, and she realized the heavy oak door had been mistakenly left slightly ajar. She turned to walk away - this was none of her business, after all.

But then she heard Haurchefant speak, and she froze.

"Surely one day I will be able to do basic drills again, at least?"

Emi stifled her breath with her hand, both to hear better and to not give herself away. She knew she shouldn't eavesdrop, and she felt terrible about it, but she was pulled towards the ordeal all the same.

"Afraid not," the doctor replied. "You'd be right blessed by Halone indeed if you were even able to walk at length without assistance in the future. Mine apologies, good ser," he continued regretfully. "As you're aware, the nerve damage is unfortunately extensive."

She risked the tiniest peek through the sliver and saw her friend crestfallen, leaning against the cane he had been using after waking up.

"I see..." Haurchefant said. "I still wish to return to Dragonhead, to run it proper, even if I am no longer able to be involved in the more physically demanding aspects and must sit behind my desk like a spoiled lordling."

Emi's heart leapt into her throat and got stuck there when she heard the third voice enter the fray - she would recognize that scathing chuckle anywhere.

"Doubtful anyone should ever confuse you for that lout," Estinien mocked. She hadn't seen him through the opening, but it made sense for him to be present - he was the one who kept vigil over Haurchefant the most in the years prior.

"I must press upon how crucial it is you get ample rest," the doctor rebutted. "From what I have heard, Ser Emmanellain has ran the camp well in your stead; pray do consider turning over the reins officially to him. The issue of rest aside, the terrain and fauna are quite hostile for one in your condition."

The silence that followed was agonizing.

Haurchefant finally broke it with a cracked "Very well."

Emi could listen no longer, for the guilt had gone from emotional weight to physical pain. Blinking back warm tears, she stepped slowly away from the door.

It's all my fault, it's all my fault, if I had never ran after Thordan--

She nearly tripped over one of the staff that had shown up to deliver Haurchefant towels for his post physical therapy bath. Thankfully, her hand was still over her mouth so when she yelled it was muffled, though that did nothing for the surprise of the maid who cried out in reflex. Emi offered the quickest apology she could while catching the rags and towels, shoving them haphazardly back into the arms of the woman before bolting down the corridor.