#raemont

"It's not that simple." With all the time they’d spent together in the hours between, they’d gotten better at reading each other. Edmont always looked weary, but the sadness and exhaustion on his face now was bone deep. 

"Nothing in Ishgard is ever simple! It's the only place where we could slay Nidhogg not once but TWICE and still lose."

The defeat she saw in his eyes only fueled her indignation.

"Don't you have any pride? Aren't you going to fight for this?"

"I have fought!" The - now former - Count Fortemps rose from his chair. The look he gave her was dark. "I have lost count the number of years I’ve fought, Rae. But this change we've been driving towards doesn't come without sacrifice. After what Haurchefaunt gave… this is the very least I can do to make his dream a reality." 

"You're a fool." Rae whispered. Her fury simmered at the mention of Edmont's son and her dear friend. It felt like a low blow no matter how much truth was in his words.

"Am I?!" The elezen lord's voice had risen. Rae wondered bitterly if the great Edmont Fortemps had ever been called such a thing in his own house. She took some pleasure in finally getting a rise out of him. She wanted a fight after how he'd chosen to share this news. 

"Am I a fool for wanting to save this House? To give it the best chance it can to survive the storm of change we've unleashed upon Ishgard? To recognize when that chance is Artoirel and not a tired old man embroiled in politics and scandal?"

"So you’ll just let them win?!. I-"

"Rae. They know."

Edmont's voice had lowered again and he walked around the desk. He approached her slowly, with one hand outstretched. She took a step away.

"They know about us." 

It had not taken long for the salacious rumor to spread and there was nothing Edmont could have done to stop it. It was like throwing ceruleum in a bonfire.

"It fit so neatly into their narrative - a great ruler assassinated, the scheme laid by the regicidal Scions, and carried out by the Warrior of Light and House Fortemps in a bid for power. The addition of an illicit relationship between the viera and a lord…" Edmont trailed off.

"Why didn't you tell me this was happening?"

He looked away, towards the balcony window, a sad smile on his lips.

"I despaired at the thought of losing what we had. I was afraid that you would try and talk me out of it." He turned back to face her. " I don't want to deny what they're saying about us."

"So I'm supposed to just sit here and let you throw away a lifetime of work?" She shouted. "What happens when you begin to regret it? What am I supposed to do when you inevitably come to resent me for clouding your judgement?" 

"Rae, I am not some young, love-struck, besotted idiot! I had a difficult choice before me and it was not one I made lightly. As much as you like to flatter yourself, our relationship is not the only reason this makes sense." Edmont's rebuttal was biting and Rae bristled, feeling her face grow hot.

The Lord watched her reaction carefully before continuing. "It's time for the old guard to let go. A lie allowed us to lead and a war enforced it. The people need new leaders. Artoirel and Aymeric already have their confidence, I'm just giving them the power to make their change real and lasting." 

Rae stilled. There wasn't anything she could think to say. It was real, all of it, and there was nothing she could do to stop what had already happened.

You've cost him this. First, his son and now everything he's worked for. 

She knew in her heart the voice was not speaking the entire truth. She believed Edmont when he said it didn't entirely have to do with their relationship - whatever that was. 

The guilt inevitably surged back. How could she not feel responsible? They had exposed the lie in their doctrine, torn apart an oppressive system, and brought change to Ishgard with dragonfire and blood. It was not something she resisted - it had to be done - but she had relished it. She delighted in the vengeance and justice she could deal with her lance. How many years had she been unable to act? Suffering at the behest of unbending tradition? Ishgard was not the home that had harmed her but there were enough similarities in it to unlock a deep-seated anger. So she had broken Ishgard, gladly, without stopping to see who lay in the trail of destruction in her wake.

"Rae…" His voice was soft. A whisper breaking through her twisting thoughts.

"Don't." She held up her hand. It was time to go. Staying much longer would mean running the risk of saying something she really would regret. “I just-” She swung the Fortemps shield onto her back to avoid looking him in the eyes. “-need space to think.”

Edmont winced at the sound of the door closing behind her. It wasn’t the first time the viera had disappeared on him. It was a troubling pattern, but one he wasn’t about to go interrupting now. Rae was right, he should have told her, but she was wrong about other things. Artoirel was ready and would be able to do more with Aymeric than he ever could. House Fortemps would recover faster if he stepped aside with grace, rather than hold his ground in a fight he didn’t care to win. It was the right decision, even if he’d stumbled on how he chose to share it. He just hoped his mistake hadn’t dashed away what had grown between them. Only time would tell.

----

Still she could see that blinding shard of light vibrating against the Fortemps crest before slicing through metal, flesh and bone.

We killed him.

Rae turned tired eyes away from the city and back to the manor below her. Most of the rooms were dark by this time of night, a few still lit as their occupants finished their business for the day. She imagined Alphinaud was one of them, up late reading one of the many tomes from the Fortemps’ massive library. 

The perch she had chosen this evening was not an unfamiliar one. In fact it was a favorite. When Rae had first arrived and she’d gone snooping to learn more about their new home and its hosts she’d discovered two very positive things about the perch. First, it offered a high vantage point with a clear view of the Last Vigil as well as the Brume. Second, it was positioned above Count Edmont de Fortemps personal study. The Lord of the house was quite adept at violin and enjoyed playing late in the evenings after finishing his work for the day.

The music had drawn her to this spot more than once. A lovely reprieve after chasing Alphinaud around all day or being gawked at by elezen unaccustomed to seeing a viera in full dragoon mail. Rae had learned long ago to ignore the stares, but it did serve to make moments alone all the more valuable to her. She didn’t have to perform or posture. She could just be.

There was no music on this night. There hadn’t been for many, many nights. Not since the house had gone into mourning for its most beloved son. Rae shifted slightly, burying more of her face into her arms and knees, her ears wilted against the wind. Cold and tired. Exhausted really. She imagined the Count felt much the same. Who would want to play music when there was no joy left in it? She didn’t blame him, but by the Twelve she missed it.

A latch on the double doors clicked and the light of the balcony shifted to make room for the silhouette of one Edmont de Fortemps. The dragoon froze as the man stepped out into the cold night. The wind tugged at the fur on his heavy coat and blew a few strands of his hair free. He looked unkempt, despite the finery, and he leaned over the balcony’s railing like he carried the weight of Ishgard on his shoulders.

He looks… He looks how we all look. Broken. Battered. Beaten. All things that needed to be tucked away when performing the duties assigned to them. Rae knew the practice well. It was easy to bury feelings when things needed to get done. They came back for you in the quiet moments, when there wasn’t enough to distract you from your thoughts. Rae leaned forward to try and get a better look at the man. He ran a shaking hand through his hair before rubbing his eyes.

The viera was suddenly very conscious of the fact that she was witness to a rare moment of vulnerability. Guilt and a sharp twinge of embarrassment gnawed at her. I led his son to his death and now what am I doing - spying on him? Lord Fortemps had taken Alphinaud, Tataru and Rae into his home and they had brought with them nothing but chaos and death.

I need to get the hell out of here. If he saw her, it wouldn’t just be a social faux paus but an extreme violation of privacy. 

Rae rose slowly, doing her best to avoid scraping metal armor against the stonework of the building. Her whole body was as tense as an ironworks spring as she took a step or two back from the ledge. The several hours spent curled up in the cold had frozen her toes and without knowing it one leg had fallen numb. The wind wasn’t enough to drown out the sound of scratching metal as her boot caught the edge of roofing. Shit. Rae leapt. 

On the balcony below, Count Edmont de Fortemps whirled at the noise. He stared long at the place where the dragoon had sat, now empty, before turning back towards the manor and the warm hearth inside. 

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I’m not a writer whatsoever, but my brain has fully gone down the rabbit hole (pun intended) of this WoL ship (or RaeMont as my FC as lovingly dubbed it). This lil fic is how Rae and Count de Fortemps’ relationship moves from what you see in the main story, into something more serious. More to come soon.

But the order to leave never came and Rae was even less equipped to handle the silence. She couldn’t help Cid, having neither the aptitude or interest in magitech, and she was not one to maneuver gracefully in the political sphere so helping Alphinaud and Aymeric was also out of the question. So she floundered. Without dragons, primals or Acsians to fight, she was left with nothing but her own guilt and a desire for justice she could not yet pursue. 

The viera paced back and forth, one hand over her mouth, a finger tapping her chin, the other arm hugging across her middle. She had ever been the type to bottle her feelings and now the bottle was full and cracking. Her anxiety manifested in twitching ears, hurried steps and a thousand-malm stare as she ruemenated. 

Why?? Why does he not ask us to go? We’re a blight on this house. Is it simply propriety? Ishgardian manners? Pride? Masochism? 

She’d spent the week wandering the city, letting her feet take her in meandering directions. This evening she returned to the balcony of the study, drawn by her own questions and the memory of Lord Edmont Fortemps standing against the cold, dark sky. The dragoon dressed lightly, trading out the aggressive-looking plate for light leathers, a loose fitted shirt and tall boots. Tonight the study was dark, with only the stars and a waning moon to light the small terrace.

Lost in her brooding, Rae did not hear the latch on the balcony door before it was too late. She whirled, half expecting to be shooed off the ledge by the valet, only to find herself facing Count Fortemps himself. Whatever composure Rae had, fled quickly as she met the look of confusion and concern on the man's face. The viera’s eyes widened as the realization sunk in just where her restless thoughts had led her.

Rae’s feet moved first and the rest of her followed. She lept atop the balustrade, preparing (in true dragoon fashion) to fling herself out into the open air and solve the landing later. 

“Wait!”

His hand wrapped around hers before her feet carried out the rest of the plan. Rae froze, suddenly very aware of how warm his glove felt against her numb fingers. She could easily have pulled her hand free, but she did not. Rae looked down to the street below her. It would not be a difficult jump if she landed at the correct angle.

“Please. Don’t-“ Lord Fortemps voice was weary, with a slight gravel that sounded as though he’d been using it most of the day. “Don’t go.”

For a fighter whose life so often lingered on her ability to think and act quickly, the moment felt like an eternity. Rae was not one to freeze, yet here she stood as if caught in a snare. The dull ache in her chest surprised her. No. She didn’t want to go. Grief was a lonely thing and she was tired of facing it by herself. 

Rae turned and met his eyes. Lord Edmont Fortemps' face was a carefully neutral mask, doing everything he could to avoid sending the flighty woman leaping away into the night. 

Lord Fortemps allowed himself a quiet breath of relief as the viera stepped down from the rail. Idly fixing his glove, he walked back towards the study doors before opening one and gesturing towards the room. 

“Would you like to come inside?”

Rae nodded stiffly and walked in. Even without the hearth lit, the room was much warmer. The dragoon’s toes and hands hurt with cold and she flexed her fingers at her side. It would be a while before she would shake this chill. 

The view from inside the study made it clear how the Count had spotted her on the ledge. Ah yes, Rae thought dryly, I suppose with the shades open and the study dark, it was quite obvious. Now Lord Fortemps stood to the side of the doors, leaning against the frame and looking out into the night.

“You saw me.” It was a ridiculous observation. But at least they were words. She had to start somewhere.

He looked over to her, a hint of a tired smile tugging at the corner of his lip. “Yes. Though I’m not used to that being the case.” Rae’s brow furrowed, of all the stupid risks to take... She closed her eyes.

“I’ve intruded. It will not happen again.”

“No, I should say not. The next time you find yourself in need of a quiet place to hide away you’ll come here. You’re welcome to the balcony of course, but I also insist you invite yourself inside. Use it as you wish.” Lord Fortemps had taken several careful steps towards her. His eyes scanned her face. “Your lips are blue. Your hands were absolutely frigid. I cannot have the Warrior of Light freezing herself half to death on my roof.”

Rae opened her mouth to speak but he held up a hand. 

“Mistress Fluffalo, please. I ask that you consider it. I know how much it means to have a place where one can step away from the madness of the world.” His voice softened. “I would be happy to share mine with you.”

Rae held his gaze, a trait that left most intimidated and uncertain but he did not look away. There was something here that had drawn her back. Lord Fortemps knew what was at stake. He knew what it was like to feel the weight of responsibility. He certainly felt the loss of Haurchefaunt even more keenly than her and what it meant to press on despite it all. 

"Why won't you send us away?" The question that had consumed her this evening would not wait any longer. It came out in a rush.

"We are nothing but a reminder of.. I killed him. He ran after me-" Her voice faltered. She could not bring herself to say his name. 

Lord Fortemps stepped forward, bridging the gap between them.

"My son would.. he would have given chase whether you were there or not. You, Tataru, Alphinaud - are ours. House Fortemps does not abandon its own."

"Why not?!" When had she started crying? Warm tears rolled down her numb cheeks. She was furious with herself. "We have nothing more to offer you!" The dragoon snapped.

"I dare not presume to know your story, or what kinds of conditions allies have placed on you in the past," Lord Fortemps spoke quietly and reached forward slowly as one might approach a spooked animal. She did not move away as he cupped her face. He brushed away a tear with his thumb. "I can only assure you that House Fortemps will ever be a home for you."

Rae closed her eyes and found herself leaning in. It was a welcome touch after an evening of turmoil. She wanted so desperately to believe him. To make herself relax. Life had taught her over and over again that safety and security was an illusion. The only answer was to keep moving. To keep fighting.

Finally, Rae took a breath and stepped away. He did not try to stop her, though by the look on his face he wanted to. Back into the cold air she stepped, turning once more towards her host.

"Goodnight Count Fortemps."