Chapter Text
Henri Dumas was about to die; he was sure of it. He had only a knife on him which was not much of a defense against the herd of growling beasts surrounding him, especially when he had regretfully neglected learning how to use the said knife. Night had already fallen, making rescue highly unlikely. ‘Twas time to make his peace with the Fury. He bit his lip and thought how hopelessly his mother would cry upon hearing of his untimely passing. His father would go greyer, and his siblings would grow bitter.
Regardless of the situation, he had no intention of going down without a fight. He held the knife blade towards the ground, like he had seen some bar-fighters do, and went at the closest beast with a yell. What seemed heroic and brave in his mind’s eye proved to be a terrible idea. He missed his mark and lost his balance, ending on his stomach with an oof. In a flash, he felt the paws on him, felt the drool drip onto his bare neck, and closed his eyes, ready for the bite that would end his life.
“Have mercy on me, Halone,” he muttered.
But the bite never came. There was a sound of metal hitting flesh and a yelp of pain. The weight was lifted – flung – from his back. He sensed a flurry of activity and sounds of fighting right next to him, and his eyes shot open. A lone woman was fighting the whole herd of beasts by herself; and she was winning. Henri simply stared. He had never seen anything quite like it before; anything like her before. She was tall, though not as tall as an Elezen, unless you counted her towering leporine ears. Since he was watching her fight from the ground, it was natural that he regarded her from ground up. She was wearing thighboots with incredibly high heels, yet they did not encumber her movements. Her legs were long, shapely, and the color of taffy. Her butt was muscular and well-rounded, just the kind he liked. Her torso had the slight hourglass shape many admired and was topped off with a pair of amazing breasts. Her face was heart-shaped, surrounded by flowing, voluminous, raven-black hair with grey highlights. The color of her clothes was indistinct, practical sort of black that would not show stains. It was a color which had been chosen not to draw attention to her, but when she fought, Henri found it impossible to keep his eyes off her. She was bathed in specs of red and yellow, as warriors tended to be. Every swing of her huge axe was deliberate and hit its mark. The fight was over in no time at all – the remaining beasts fled to save their lives and lick their wounds. She watched them go before turning around and returning to where he was still laying on the ground and staring like a scared child.
She offered her hand to him and asked, “Are you hurt?” Her voice was deep and rich and had an agreeable color to it. Her voice reminded him of mint chocolate.
Henri took the hand she offered, got to his feet, and dusted his clothes off. “This is rather embarrassing,” he said.
“Why?” she inquired with a twinkle in her eye. “Because I saw how you held that little knife of yours?”
Henri blushed. “Among other things. Is there another way to hold it, then?”
“It depends.”
“On?”
“If you mean to use it as opposed to wishing to seem threatening to the other drunks at the bar.”
Henri let out an awkward laugh, “You caught me. That is precisely where I learned that move.”
She picked up the knife in question from the ground and flipped it expertly a couple of times before handing it to him, holding it from the blade. He took it and returned it to its swathe.
“If you are bent on traversing the woods at night, you ought to learn how to defend yourself,” she advised. “You might not get this lucky next time.”
“Speaking of which, thank you for saving my life. I am in your debt,” he said, and bowed formally. “You would not have need of a retainer, would you?”
She tilted her head a bit. “I do not readily know. What is it that a retainer does?”
“You look like an adventurer if I may be so bold as to assume. You must have many things you wish to sell, but less time to do so. A retainer is someone who does the bidding and haggling and all that on your behalf and gets a cut of the money made. You can also hire your retainer to acquire necessities for you or craft things you do not have the time to craft yourself,” he explained.
She fixed her gaze on him. He had not noticed it before, but her eyes were the darkest he had ever seen. They demanded attention in a way he had never encountered before.
“Ought not such a person be able to defend themselves on their travels?” she queried.
His shoulders sagged. “You are correct, I should. I admit, I am new to this, I just recently arrived in Eorzea and this was the only work I could find.”
Her smile was disarming, although he got the impression it was also rare. “I know what that is like, being a relatively new arrival myself. And you are correct, I am indeed in need of such services. I detest haggling and would rather not engage in it, even though I recognize its necessity to get the best price for the items I acquire on my travels. Would you be willing to take on a new customer? Assuming your rates are reasonable.”
“For the person who saved my life? I would not dream of taking money from you.”
“I would not dream of neglecting payment.”
Henri thought about it. “I think I have a solution which will benefit us both if you would be willing to hear it.” She waved her hand for him to continue. “As you have recently witnessed, I lack the skills to defend myself whereas you have them aplenty. You, on your part, lack a retainer, which I happen to be. How about you teach me how to fight and I sell your loot for you, no charge?”
She crossed her arms. “My contribution seems rather small compared to yours.”
“You did save my life, mistress.”
Her face twitched. “I am not your secret lover, please call me Carina.”
“Well met, Carina, I am Henri,” he said and bowed again. “Although I must point out that ‘mistress’ is not a term for ‘the other woman’, as you appear to think it, but rather a term of respect to a woman who is not of noble birth.”
She blushed and her stance changed. Suddenly she appeared very uncertain. “I… apologize. I meant no disrespect.”
He smiled. “Naught to worry, ‘tis perfectly understandable not to know all these things when you are new... I might add I am not absolutely certain they use that here, but ‘tis common in Ishgard where I am from. I should check it with someone local before this happens again. I do not wish to give the impression I am trying to harass every woman towards whom I try to be respectful.”
“Are you sure you have not done so already?” she inquired. Her eyes were laughing.
He had not thought of that. He blushed. “By the Fury…”
She must have found his expression amusing, for there was a distinct giggle.
“Come on then, Henri, let us leave before something else attacks you because you inadvertently call it your darling. I will see you safely to Gridania and teach you some basic self-defense first thing in the morning,” she said and whistled. The sound summoned a massive white bear which she mounted like it was the most natural thing in the world. Henri merely stared.
Carina blushed and looked away. “What are you looking at?”
“Who in Halone’s name are you?”
“If I said, ‘just another adventurer,’ would you believe me?”
“Not in the least.”
She sighed in frustration and held out her hand. “Come on, do not tarry all night long. Rasmus will not mind the extra weight.”
He took the hand and was pulled effortlessly to sit behind her. She did not wait for him to get his bearings before telling her mount to move along. The movements forced him to grab onto his mysterious savior and hold on for dear life. They reached Gridania in no time at all. Henri sort of fell off the bear when it stopped moving and was surprised to find he could stand without his knees folding under him out of terror. Carina dismounted much more gracefully, patted her steed, and let it run away again.
“I have a room at the inn,” she said. “I shall meet you for your training after breakfast.”
“Yes, thank you. But please, who are you?”
She looked frustrated with his insistence. “If you must know, the people who neither know nor care for my actual name call me the ‘Warrior of Light’. Good night, Henri, I will see you in the morning.” She turned around and hurried off before her words had sunk in.
The actual Warrior of Light had saved his life? He could hardly believe it. And she was going to teach him how to fight?
Henri took a room in a daze, entered it, and sat down on the bed. He thought back and retraced the events of the night. Warrior of Light. He had heard of her adventures and heroics. But, it was true, no one had ever mentioned her name, or anything pertaining to her as a person. The Carina he had met was much more interesting and real than her legend. She clearly had empathy, not only power. She was intelligent and had a sense of humor, but there was also uncertainty – not something you would expect in a hero lauded throughout the city states. He decided he wanted to know not the legend, but the woman behind it.
--
(About a year later.)
“You cannot be serious.”
Carina stared at Henri over the inn table where they were having a late dinner.
“Why would I not be serious?” he inquired. “I just bought my first home and I want my best friend to see it.”
“I would love to see your home, truly, but how could I? Your nation is known to be… less than welcoming to outsiders. Do you mean to smuggle me in? Or disguise me as an Ishgardian? I mean… I believe I can do a passable Ishgardian accent after spending time with you, but not even a hood will cover my ears.”
He rolled his eyes. “We do get the occasional visitor and merchant. Besides, my father has enough pull that if you are questioned, you can drop his name and they will leave you alone, as long as you are not moving there.” He paused for a moment. “Let’s hear the accent.”
She cleared her throat and channeled him. “My father has enough pull that if you are questioned, you can drop his name.”
He stared at her, impressed. “That was… Wow. I had no idea you could do that. That was genuinely very good.”
She blushed. “Thank you.”
“You must use that when you are there.”
She was still hesitating, even though she was curious of Ishgard. She had heard so much about it from him and read much about it, too. “I do not wish to cause trouble to you or yours…”
Henri rolled his eyes at her. “I keep telling you, you are being too cautious and worrying too much about such things. This is what friends do! They share their lives, gossip, have fun, lean on each other, and visit each other’s brand-new homes!”
She smiled. “If you say so. Fine, I accept your invitation gladly. Thank you.”
She would have to buy some new clothes, warm ones. She was well aware of how inhospitable the environment was, especially to someone like her who was at home in warmth, not where she could see her own breath. She ought to also acquire a map of the city and the surrounding area, just in case…
“I can see you are worrying already,” Henri’s voice cut through her thoughts. “’Tis going to be fine.”
“What you call worrying, I call planning,” Carina protested. “If I did not plan, I would show up in Ishgard wearing these clothes.” She gestured towards her habitual outfit of Viera thighboots, skirt, and a comfortable, loose sleeveless shirt.
“Nothing wrong with those – they suit you.”
“They are not meant for enduring the cold of Coerthas.” She needed to distract him from the subject of her worrying. It was one of his pet peeves. “When would you like me to visit?”
“As soon as you are able. My schedule is pretty flexible for the next couple of weeks which is a must for your visit because I want to show you around the city.”
“Is there a library?” She queried, her eyes shining.
“I was expecting that question,” he replied with a little laugh. “Unless you are into religious texts, the most comprehensive public library would be the one at Athenaeum Astrologicum. Most of the noble families have private libraries, but those are sadly beyond our reach.”
“That sounds intriguing. I have read what little I have found about Ishgardian astrology.”
“I am sure they would be happy to tell you more,” he promised. “Will you come this weekend?”
She thought for a moment. “Yes, that should work.”
“I will meet you at the gate to make sure they let you in.”
“They need you there for that?” Carina raised an eyebrow. “What were you saying about them being more welcoming than they used to be?”
--
“See? Not so difficult after all!”
Carina gave Henri a look full of meaning. “They made me strip my coat, show them my possessions, and two forms of identification!”
“You could have refused.”
“I cannot say no to officials,” she protested and reconsidered. She had killed many Garleans, some of whom had been officials. “Unless they are trying to kill me, that is.”
“Had you said no, they would have tried to kill you, and then you could have protested,” was the reply.
“There is a hole in your logic.”
“Hush, you,” Henri shushed her and made a grand gesture towards the city. “Welcome to Ishgard!”
Carina looked around, taking note of the forbidding architecture and the dark sky. There were many bridges, arches, and towers in sight, all of them sturdy, as if made to stand both the test of time and an attack by a fire-breathing enemy. A cold wind was making snowflakes dance in the air. Passersby were moving with a purpose to their step.
“’Tis unique,” Carina said, for she could see Henri was waiting for a comment. “I can see why you like it so.”
A smile lit his features. “Come, I want to show it all to you before it gets too dark.”
She followed him around the city. They visited the sights and she listened earnestly to whatever trivia he had been able to gather about the places they saw. She could tell he had looked some of the things up for her and she appreciated his efforts.
“This is the Athenaeum Astrologicum,” he said and gestured towards a low building on the right side of the street.
“Where the library is?” she asked eagerly.
“Yes, where the library is. In fact,” he paused as if trying to remember something, “I may have to stray away for half a day the day after tomorrow, so you might want to visit it then. How about we drop in there to make the introductions and ask if it is acceptable to them? I imagine you will not object to spending a few bells reading books?”
“You are correct in assuming that,” she admitted. She would in fact welcome a bit of solitude after being around people all the time. A book would be a good way to have a moment to herself.
Carina followed Henri to Athenaeum Astrologicum where he introduced her to Jannequinard. He was a dignified noble who was more than happy to encounter a person so interested in learning and would have talked her ear off, had they the time. He promised she could read whatever she wanted as long as she did not leave the premises with the book. Henri gently pulled her away from the bookshelves which were practically calling her name.
“The day after tomorrow, my friend,” he assured her. “’Tis time to go see my new home. I wish to hear your opinion of my stylistic choices.”
“If you like it, I will like it,” she promised.
“Stop being so pre-emptively nice and tell me my couch is a hideous color!”
“Is it?”
“You shall see.”
Carina found out that he was right. It was indeed hideous, but at least it was comfortable to sleep on. Henri had tried to give her the bed, but she had declined adamantly. She may not be willing to stand up for herself, but she would be damned before she did not stand up for her friends.