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When they last saw one another, it had been in the infirmary following the dragoon’s possession. Aymeric was steadfast at his bedside, clutching his hand and biting back tears as he sat vigilant and restless.
He hardly slept then, either. Instead he whispered prayers and muttered confessions of love and devotion through choked sobs. It kept him up to wonder if Estinien had heard his desperate pleas, and if that was why he hadn’t returned. Much like a cat, he frightened easily and was left bristling and wary at the first sign of change.
Estinien seemed a new man when he awoke, no longer bound by the shackles of his vengeance, his grief, or the slow corruption of his aether. Had they been alone together at that moment, Aymeric was sure he would have kissed him.
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