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“I thought I might find you here.”
Estinien’s quiet voice seemed deafening in spite of the low whistling sound of the wind as it raced through the not quite distant towers and edifices of Ishgard. The rise was - as it had once been told her - the loveliest view of the city that could be had. It had been the only option when choosing a final resting place for a beloved and cherished fallen comrade. But over the seasons it had become more than that. Not only to her - she knew quite well that Francel, Estinien, and a smattering of others frequented the windy bluff and the solitary stone that was it’s sole permanent occupant. To all of them, this stoic memorial had become a solace of sorts. A place to retreat to when the cares and weights of the world that continued to spin on… became too much to bear.
Glancing over her shoulder, W’ynter pushed wind-tossed bangs from her face as she answered the tall dragoon with a simple nod and shrug. Anyone else would have found it rather a poor greeting, lacking in any manner of warmth or friendliness. But that was where she and the white-haired man were of like minds. Entire volumes of words could be communicated with the simplest of gestures or expressions, if one only cared to interpret. Which Estinien seemed to do quite flawlessly as he approached in that graceful, fluid manner of his to sink down into the snow beside her. Long braided tail of white hair curling against the ground behind him as he settled. The Warriour of Light chuckled as she snagged it with a finger and gave a teasing tug. “Almost past your waist now. Does Aymeric bribe you against cutting it?”
“Not him.” Came the half grunted reply and the slighter figure snickered again as that gave her all the answer she needed. “I’ll assume that you managed to convince Yasha to allow you to braid it this time, seeing as it looks far too neat and orderly to be the work of a three year old.” The Elezen snorted softly as she dropped the leather-tied end of his braid and returned to her prior position of knees drawn up to her chest, arms looped around them in a deceptively relaxed posture. Completely at odds with her mental state at current.
They sat thusly, in companionable silence save for the whistling wind as it blew small flurries off and across the top of Harchefaunt’s tombstone for what seemed like hours but was in reality only the span of half an hour or so. Estinien saying nothing and W’ynter volunteering not a word as they both waited in understanding that the words would come when they were ready. Ultimately it was the dark-haired woman who broke the silence with a soft sigh as she raked fingers through her short mop of hair. “I….don’t know what to do.”
“That is a rather general statement.”
He was right, and still she shot him a glare before rummaging into her pocket for the very thing that had sent her on a breakneck flight away from Revenant’s Toll and to the one place she always seemed able to gather her thoughts. Holding the small object out in her palm, she sighed again. “He gave it to me this morning…”
Crimson eyes widened as they studied the tiny circle of gold, one side studded with a trio of crystalline blue stones. The ring was lovely, and he could already tell that it appeared made for her small hand even as it rested in the center of her palm and not on the finger it had likely been intended for. That...explained a lot, honestly. He’d hardly known anything was wrong when he sought her out here - simply following up on quiet murmurings in the Firmament that Eorzea’s champion had been sighted nearby and knowing that if she was in this area then here was where he’d likely find her. But the stiffness in her slight frame and the coiled restless energy that showed itself in the flicking tip of her tail had been more than enough of a clue that something wasn’t right with his friend.
“So I see.”
She gave a bark of laughter that was almost bitter and yet not quite, raising an eyebrow at him as she curled her fingers back around the tiny piece of jewelry and stashed it away in her pocket again. “No congratulations? No interrogation about upcoming ceremonies and the like?”
“You mistake me for Aymeric.” He responded dryly and her laughter softened as some of the tension bled away from her shoulders. “No. I know exactly who you are, and… I’m grateful for the candor, Estinien. I just… I wish I knew what to do.”
Stretching her legs out, she braced her palms into the snow behind her and leaned back slightly to stare up at the falling flakes. “He’d made breakfast. Which isn’t anything unusual, he does that most mornings. I think he enjoys feeling as though he’s taking care of me. Watching out for me and prioritizing me....where the rest of Eorzea usually just sees what I can do for them. They see what I am...not who I am.”
Those words struck truer than perhaps anyone else than him could have understood. Because he knew exactly how she felt. She was the Warriour of Light, as he had been the Azure Dragoon. Both proud of and yet weighed down by the titles of their positions and the responsibilities that only they could carry. That they willingly carried in spite of the difficulties. But willingness and ability did not good companions make when the exhaustion came. When you were left to face the foes alone simply because no one else could face them at your side. When you returned victorious and drowned in cheers and accolades when all you truly wanted was a single voice to ask after the man - or woman, in her case.
Most of those she called friends didn’t truly understand that. Or at least, if they did then he was of the mind that they did a pretty piss-poor job of showing it. Alternately hero-worshipping her and flinging her like a weapon at whatever threat reared its head. Never questioning if she wanted it or not. If she could or not. There was faith in someone, and then there was just blind ignorance in Estinien’s opinion. It was why he had always treasured Aymeric to such a degree. Even before they had come to an understanding between them, he had known that his Bluebird looked at him and saw Estinien. Not just the Azure Dragoon. And W’ynter’s former Crystal Exarch was the same. It was obvious whenever you saw them together. Obvious in the almost reverent way that he stared at her, as though she were some dream he could scarce believe was real.
The same way he knew he looked at his own husband when Aymeric wasn’t paying attention.
“And that was served for breakfast?” He asked, gently prodding her to continue her tale if she wished. Her voice trailed off into thoughtful silence as she stared ahead. Likely replaying the day’s earlier events as she recounted them to him. W’ynter shook her head with a shrug. “Not exactly. He’d made something special, and even that isn’t entirely out of character. He always tries to go above and beyond, even though I tell him it isn’t necessary. Just...the fact that he made it is special enough. I’m sure you understand that, as much as Aymeric enjoys cooking. I need to get that doman plum jam recipe from him sometime…”
Drifting off onto another tangent, she drew herself back to the topic with another shuddering sigh. “He’d...tied it around my bow. Trying to be romantic, I’m sure, but…” Her voice shook slightly as she drew her knees back up to her chest and buried her face in her folded arms atop them. “I ran…. I ran like a fucking coward, Estinien. What in the Twelve is wrong with me? I… I love him. I love him more than anything, and I… I wouldn’t want anyone else, but I just… it was like I froze. And I could see it in his face. He was so happy and nervous, and then… I watched that drain away when I didn’t say anything and then I just….ran.”
Estinien stayed silent for a long moment as he allowed her words to process before he reached to place one gauntleted hand against her shoulder in a gesture that would have felt awkward had it been anyone but her. And though she said nothing, small fingers slid up to curl over his with a squeeze of gratitude for the silent show of support.
“It is not shameful to be afraid. Or to not desire such a thing.”
W’ynter gave a derisive snort as she raised her head to cock an eyebrow at him. “I would point out that you said ‘yes’, while I ran like a frightened child. Perhaps not the best comparison, Estinien.”
“I acquiesced after avoiding Coerthas and him for two moons.” He retorted with a snort of amusement. “So I can hardly agree that the comparison is not quite apt in it’s accuracy.” That was something that W’ynter hadn’t been aware of, and she raised her head to frown at him. “But...the two of you are so...so happy together. I knew when it came to the ceremony itself you would have rather faced Nidhogg again, but…”
He gave a bitter chuckle of his own at that, unable to keep the smirk from his face. “I put up with the pageantry for Aymeric, but that’s not the point that I’m making. The point is… I understand what it feels to be terrified of something good. To be utterly paralyzed with fear over all of the potential for what can go wrong. For me… what did I have to offer him? For all intents and purposes, we belonged to separate worlds, and the possibilities of what he could have lost in choosing me… I refused to take that risk. I suppose in a way… I believed that I was protecting him from myself. When in truth, it was my own heart I was shielding. Because I believed myself so far from anything that could be called worthy.”
In the last five minutes, he had spoken more frankly and openly in regards to his feelings and fears than he had with anyone in years save Aymeric. But W’ynter was different. Had always been different, and right now...she needed to hear this. Whatever her ultimate choice was, he knew that his words were important. That they would give her at least some degree of grounding right now when she needed it the most. Or at least, he hoped that was the case, and Estinien felt himself relax a little as she chewed her lip before speaking again.
“What...made you change your mind?”
That was the difficult part for him, to remind himself of the damage he had done, the hurt he had caused, and Estinien swallowed hard as he considered his words before he answered her query. “I saw the consequences of my words. Not in the things he said, but...in how he said them. It was as if… I had killed something in him. Extinguished some light with my thoughtless words born of fear, and...when I saw that the only thing that mattered...was that I put it right. Not only with him, but...with myself. Because in that moment, I realized that whatever I was afraid of… I wanted what he was offering. And the only thing truly standing in the way was my own fears.”
“But...what if I don’t want it? How..how did you know? I mean, even the idea of taking that sort of step is...terrifying to me. How do I tell him that? How do I make him understand that it isn’t him I don’t want?”
Somewhere amidst their conversation, she had shifted to lean against his shoulder, unconsciously seeking out the comfort of a kindred spirit in this and Estinien looped his arm loosely around her shoulders with a sigh as he shrugged. “I can’t answer that for you. You know him better than I do, but from what I know of him...he is a kind and honourable man, with a giving and gentle nature. He is...much like Aymeric in some ways. And in that similarity, I feel that he would welcome your honesty. Whatever it is. To use a rather trite turn of phrase; say what is in your heart. And trust in the bond between you.”
She was silent for a time, dark head leaning against his shoulder as the snowflakes gathered and clung to her hair and the fur on her ears before he felt her nod her head slightly and suck in a slow breath. “I suppose I should get back home then… thank you, Estinien. I...think I needed to hear that.”
As she moved away, he got to his feet and offered her his hand. It was an odd gesture on his part, mostly because he’d always felt that extending such shallow courtesies was insulting to her. She was the twelves-damned Warriour of Light. She hardly needed his aid to stand up on her own. But the hand he held out now was not a commentary on her abilities. Instead it was a tactile affirmation of the support he was and always would offer her and W’ynter flashed him a smile as she took it and pulled herself to her feet. With a nod of farewell and a squeeze of his hand, she vanished into the swirling snow as she headed back down the ridge.
Estinien’s words had been unexpected at best; he rarely opened up in such a way - unless you were Aymeric, and even then it was apparently oft like pulling teeth. But W’ynter couldn’t help holding them close as she felt her aether reconstitute itself at the base of the aetheryte in Revenant’s Toll. If nothing else, they could be a balm against the rising panic that threatened to well up in her throat. What if...he wasn’t there when she walked into their room at the Rising Stones? What if she had irreparably damaged things between them? Closing her eyes as she rested her hand on the door, W’ynter swallowed hard before pushing it open. Bracing herself for the silent, empty chamber and unable to help the way her shoulders sagged in relief at seeing his familiar head of red hair shoot up from the tome he was bent over.
“H...hi….”
Her quiet greeting had him scrambling to his feet, the chair clattering to the floor as he stared at her with so many emotions in his eyes that she had to squeeze hers closed to suck in a ragged breath. “Raha, I’m… I’m so-”
Anything else that she might have voiced was cut off as he crossed the distance to wrap his arms around her in a tight embrace. Burying his face into her hair with a soft whimper of her name as he held her so close to his chest she’d have feared suffocation. If that idea had been anywhere within the sphere of her mind. What did catch her attention were the words he whispered against her hair as his grip on her tightened.
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have… it was too soon, and it’s alright if you don’t want that, and I’m… I’m so sorry….”
The tremor in his voice brought Estinien’s earlier words into sharp focus and W’ynter swallowed back a lump in her throat as she shook her head. Pulling back just enough to reach up and cup his face in her hands to press her forehead to his as she shook her head again. “No…I’m sorry. I… I shouldn’t have run like that, I just… I’m scared, Raha… I’m so scared. I’m scared of what could happen to either of us… of what it could mean… of...everything. You didn’t do anything wrong, I....”
Her voice cracked and he raised his hands to cover hers, gently stroking thumbs against the back of her hands as he tried to reassure you. “It’s alright… I’m here, W’ynter. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. Tell me what you need and I’ll do everything in my power to make it so. I love you…I will always love you.”
That calm, heartfelt declaration almost brought her to tears and she blinked them back before leaning up for a tender kiss. Pulling away to rest her head against his chest as she closed her eyes. “I… I don’t know. I know...that I don’t want anyone but you, and I... I wouldn’t want that with anyone but you, I just… I’m not ready for that, and I’m afraid that...that I may never be ready for it. But it’s what you want, and you deserve that, and I…”
Shaking his head, he silenced her with another soft kiss before pressing their foreheads together again. “What I want… is you. By my side, sharing my path with me. Or...me sharing your path, if we’re being honest. Would I love to take that step with you? Of course I would, but even if we never do that doesn’t change anything. You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to, or aren’t ready for.”
W’ynter remained where she was, curled up against his chest as she dug into her pocket for the ring. Taking the time that she hadn’t before to study the small circle, she frowned slightly at the faceted blue stones before glancing up at him. “Are these…?”
He flushed almost as red as his hair, scratching the back of his head as he cast his gaze anywhere but at her and swallowed. “Ah...yes. Yes, they are. I just thought...after everything...that it was fitting. A little bit of the Tower for each of us… mine’s in my desk.” He was adorable when he blushed like that, and she carefully rubbed the pad of her thumb across the three chips of blue crystal before an idea came to her. “Hold it for me?”
Carefully depositing the ring into his palm, she rummaged in a pouch on her belt and came up with a strip of black leather cord. Gently taking the ring back from him, she threaded it onto the cord and tied it securely at her nape. The ring came to rest over the center of her chest, the chips of crystal catching the light as she gave G’raha a small smile. “There. Even if… I can’t promise when or if I’ll be ready… I’m more than willing to promise that I’m yours. That I don’t intend on there ever being anyone else for me. Is that… can that be enough? For now?”
The gesture had a lump rising in his throat, and G’raha found himself only able to nod as he enfolded her into his arms again in a tight embrace. Having to swallow hard before he was able to answer her. “That’s always enough for me, W’ynter. Always. And if we choose to take that step one day...we’ll do it together.”