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When Aymeric was young, he was often regaled of tales involving knights and their heroic deeds. Usually, it consisted of rescuing a fair maiden who was often powerless to their situation. These knights would often be found from the bottom rung and, quite conveniently, rise through the ranks over a single night from one valiant deed involving a princess’ rescue.
However, as the lord commander grew up, he learned just how far those stories were from the truth. He learned of it when he discovered the origins of his birth. He witnessed it when he found Estinien alone at Ever Lakes when they first met during their training as Temple Knights. He was reminded of it when he saw a bastard knight sacrifice himself to preserve what he described as “hope incarnate,” offering to them a smile in their final moments.
Aymeric always tried to remain optimistic despite the endless sea of chaos. He adored Ishgard regardless of its flaws and wished to see his nation rise above the challenges presented to her. He proved himself time and time again and it allowed him to obtain the position that he has now. It is what allowed him the opportunity to befriend the Warrior of Light.
It is what showed him that there was just so much more.
Aymeric found you standing idly in the Pillars. From the way your cheeks have yet to flush from the cold, he assumed that you had recently departed from Fortemps manor. Your eyes sparkled as it stared up at the grey, cloudy skies and showered you gently with fragile crystals as you adjusted your scarf closer to your person.
By Halone, he wondered what he had done to deserve your attention.
Courage, Aymeric, he thought to himself.
The lord commander straightened his back and his alpine coat before he began striding to close the gap between you and himself. The more he approached, the more detailed your figure became to him. The curve of your body toned through battle, the softness of your lips set at a beautifully curious pout and the distant gaze within your jeweled irises that seemed to see beyond what was before you…
...Are you truly not a heavenly being disguised as a mortal?
You twitched at the sound of his footsteps and your head tilted in his direction. Upon realizing that it was him, you offered a soft smile and a greeting. Aymeric did the same and gave you a courteous bow in true Elezen fashion before reaching out to take your hand in his, pressing his lips to your skin.
“How truly fortuitous it is to find you, my friend,” Aymeric said. “Just as the thought of you had crossed my mind.”
You remember Thancred’s teasing, the snide remarks he would give you when the others weren’t listening. You wouldn’t imagine him a politician…
Aymeric blinked and glanced towards your face and was pleasantly surprised to find your cheeks tinted the color of rolanberries. For a champion as mighty as yourself, it was quite endearing to have the privilege of beholding you in such a humble state. How he wished to keep this to himself.
Yet, he knew that he must be realistic. You were not his to keep. Despite how you two feel, you were both chained to your respective positions. This small fancy...it cannot be. Not when the realm at large was in peril. He can indulge once. But, at the end of the day…
The lord commander jolted when he heard you call out to him. His eyes darted to find yours, gaze locked on gaze, filled with concern. You ask him if he was alright and he smiles all the same.
“Indeed,” he assures you swiftly. “Would you care to accompany me for a walk?”
You nod easily and your lips curl upward at the sight of his excitement, overjoyed when he attempts to smother the better half of it for propriety’s sake. It was, for lack of a better term, quite cute how hard he tried.
You both wandered outside Saint Reymanaud’s cathedral, speaking on novels and interesting plot twists worth sharing. Then, you both end up in front of the Vault and pay respects to a dear friend, blissfully thankful for the silence shared in this intimate moment. Afterwards, you find that both of you have crossed Athenaeum Astrologicum towards the staircase leading to the Brume. Leading to the Firmament.
You and Aymeric exchange greetings to Lord Francel and make a mental note to prepare some meals for the Haillenarte lad. His face had paled and the circles under his eyes seem to be getting darker despite his smiles. Perhaps it’s his exhaustion that prompted him to reveal one of your secrets, one that wasn’t really a secret to begin with.
“Old friend, you have done much and more for the restoration than one could ever dream of and for that, I thank you,” Francel says with an oblivious but grateful smile. “Pray excuse me, for there is much work to be done and surely Haurchefant would be beside himself to catch me idling by!”
Aymeric’s eyes were on you, even as he offered a bid of farewell to Haillenarte’s son. For what reason binds you to Ishgard’s prosperity? You and the Scions have fought with your lives on the line for his people. People who, in turn, threw lies and slander in your direction with claims of heresy. The thought of this prevented him from thinking twice before asking.
“My friend, I mean no slight on your generosity and I truly believe you are of a much purer soul than this realm deserves, but I ask you nonetheless...how is it that you dedicate yourself so entirely to a cause not your own?”
Aymeric sees your initial surprise as your expression falls to one that he cannot read. It isn’t until you display such a forlorn mask with glazed eyes as you take in the sights before you that he obtains a glimpse of the person behind the Warrior of Light. The glory and fame, the memories and heartbreak - what have you asked for and what have you received, he wonders. Your voice breaks him from his musings.
“Tell me, my lord, what does snow become when it melts?”
Aymeric blinks, unsure of what to make of your question. Was it a test? Is there a hidden meaning behind it? Are you trying to tell him something?
The lord commander tilted his head ever so slightly.
“Why, when it melts, it becomes water, my friend,” he replies with a hesitant tone, giving you the benefit of doubt.
Your smile widens, which confuses him.
“Nay, my lord,” you respond. “It becomes spring.”
Aymeric’s brows raised and his lips parted at your answer. He watched as your eyes looked out at the distance towards the stone rubble and mess from the destruction left by the Dravanians. There was a hint of something there. Something that he had felt once before and had forgotten.
Then, it hit him.
When Aymeric was young, he was often regaled of tales involving knights and their heroic deeds. Usually, it consisted of rescuing a fair maiden who was often powerless to their situation. However, as the lord commander grew up, he learned just how far those stories were from the truth. After all, there was always one thing that these stories failed to answer:
When the knight falls to despair, who would save them in kind?
Then, there was you. One of the greatest "knights" of his time and still forging on towards the new dawn. Whatever trials and tribulations you experience, you meet it with a straight back and head held high. Chased from the pinnacle of fortune, thrown into the jaws of despair with the knowledge that you are missing knowledge regarding the whereabouts of your comrades, the turmoil broiling within your heart at the loss of a friend that he knew was a fault of his own...
Yet, in your eyes, he finds the beauty of the world and its inhabitants, the hope that despite any misdeeds they have conducted, they can yet be good people. When all others fall from the challenge, you rise to meet it. You light the beacon so brightly and run with it, prompting everyone that comes to know you to chase after it with such passion and desire.
You are more than just a Warrior. More than just a faerie tale come to life. You are what people could be if they just believed.
Aymeric felt his heart fill once more. He may be a knight, but even the strong need to be weak to become all the better. The gentleness you showed him and the stalwart conviction you hold, he will never forget. In fact, he wants to chase after it. Wants to chase after you.
Maybe it is alright to dream every now and then.
Aymeric takes a breath and reaches out for your hand. He was mildly startled when you had intertwined your fingers with him so readily and was in awe of how your palm rested snugly against his. You hadn’t turned to face him, still lost in your own silent thoughts. He didn’t begrudge you for it as he turned to face the rest of the Firmament, not thinking of what it is right now, but what it could be with the effort of his people striving for a better tomorrow.
Amidst his thoughts, one stands out in particular:
I pray we see the budding spring together when it comes.