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He very rarely looked peaceful.
Estinien lay in the infirmary cot, clad in nothing but a simple gown and thin sheets as he slept off the worst of Nidhogg's control over him. He was his own man now, the eyes gone and leaving him ravaged in their wake. It made Aymeric burn, a thousand year old rage that roiled in the pit of his stomach. He did this to you, Aymeric thought, holding Estinien's hand between both of his. But at least you have time to rest.
Aymeric's eyes traveled up Estinien's arm, coiled muscle from years of training, a crater sitting just below his shoulder. Pale skin turned red and mottled from the eye, a permanent reminder of his humanity. Curious, Aymeric's fingers trailed upwards, feather light. He traced the beginnings of the scar, gentle as he eventually reached the slowly healing wound.
"Oh, Estinien," Aymeric whispered, a pang of sympathy in his heart. He couldn't contain himself, his palm pressing against Estinien's cool cheek. Estinien flinched, rapid movement under his eyelids. "You have given so much to Ishgard." He had given so much for Aymeric. And now he had scars upon scars to bear for it, reminders etched into his flesh that the same beasts that killed his family and sent him on a perilous journey could not kill him, could not take him. Aymeric's thumb smoothed over his cheek, a soft noise of surprise escaping him as Estinien groaned at the touch.
"Oh," Aymeric breathed, going to pull his hand away. Even as he healed off the damage, Estinien caught hold of his hand, one eye cracked open. "My apologies, I must have gotten carried away --"
Estinien's hand slowly closed over his, turning his head just enough to press his lips against Aymeric's thumb. "Foolish." His voice rough and cracked, from sleep or exhaustion or both. "You need not permission to touch me." Aymeric's next exhale was shaky, mixed with a soft laugh.
"I am intruding on your healing process."
"My healing process consists of laying in bed until a healer comes and then promptly ignoring their requests," Estinien retorted, slowly sitting up. The sheet fell away from his body, a series of other scars, new and old alike, painted across his body. Aymeric's eyes traveled, subconsciously moving closer in his seat. "What brings you?"
Aymeric looked at the scar from the eye, nervousness leaving his cheeks tinged pink. "I was concerned. You have been dogging my thoughts as of late, you know."
Estinien sighed out a lifetime's with of tension, his hold on Aymeric's hand surprisingly gentle. "You have more important things to be thinking about, Speaker."
Aymeric huffed, letting his hand fall away. "I will not be teased while you are in critical condition. I am not the one to be dwelled upon at this moment."
"Oh, stop that." Estinien pulled him close again, leaving a kiss against the high point of his cheek. "The last thing I need is another person pawing at me like I'll die any moment." Aymeric adjusted himself, pushing white strands of hair from Estinien's face and catching his steely expression, only softened by the gesture from moments ago.
"You could," Aymeric said, mirth tugging his lips upwards. "I think you may very well waste away without proper adherence to medical standards." Estinien's brow furrowed and Aymeric laughed, pleased with himself. "I suppose I should refrain from teasing as well?"
"Please." Estinien cast his glance aside, the tips of his ears glowing. Aymeric kissed his cheek in turn, patting the center of his chest.
"Rest up, Estinien. Please."
Estinien rolled his eyes before catching Aymeric with a proper kiss, winding long fingers through dark waves and tugging closer. Aymeric submitted, heart aflutter, music playing in his thoughts before he pulled himself away. Couldn't have the nurses catching them exchanging kisses, they might try to ban him from the infirmary again. "Will you be back today?"
"I will try," Aymeric promised, getting up from his seat. He would be back, once the moon hung low in the sky and no one could find him for more work, more tasks to accomplish. Until then, Estinien would worm his way into Aymeric's thoughts - the dark red of his scar, the rough stubble on his jaw, the blinding warmth of his lips, the ever-present strength in his hands. Aymeric surmised he would get very little done today, his steps light as he made his way back to his old office.