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The view was a typical one; white flakes falling from the sky, sending him skidding as they got under his feet and threatening to turn into a veritable blizzard if given half the chance.
One was a regular Ishgardian afternoon. The other was the stack of paperwork Aymeric had just knocked over.
Then, to top it all off, his linkpearl chimed.
‘Do not tell them to go jump in a particularly cold lake,’ Aymeric told himself, figuring no one was around to see if he sat on the floor in a despair-induced slump for five minutes. Thankfully not too many people had managed to figure out he even had a linkpearl yet – Fury be praised for Ishgard’s hatred for technology – but if this was Handeloup calling him in for yet another meeting, he was going to scream.
‘Lord Commander Borel speaking,’ he said instead, and crossed his fingers no one was going to mention the words “missive,” or “urgent council,” or, his favourite, “begs an urgent petition with you, my lord.”
A low chuckle sounded in his ear. ‘Why, Lord Commander, you almost sound displeased to hear from me.’
‘Estinien! Oh, thank the gods.’ He let his head thunk back against the wall, closing his eyes for a moment. ‘I’m always pleased to hear your voice, my love.’
‘Hmm. Better. Who were you expecting?’
‘Lucia. Emmanellain, maybe – not the foggiest idea how he managed to tap on to the aether connection, but he likes to give me reports on Dragonhead that go on for almost a bell. Mayhap one of the Dzemaels who seem intent on protesting about letting the homeless sleep in the cathedral, or some aggrieved noble who doesn’t want to give up his plot of land in the Sea of Clouds because it’s his favourite sunning spot and heavens forbid we use it to grow food. Or one of the branch family countesses who likes to send a surplus of letters complaining about the new houses in the Firmament. They’ve painted the doors yellow and she doesn’t like it.’
A pause. ‘Are you… all right?’
‘I’m seriously considering telling Lord Francel to get them painted metallic orange instead.’
‘What time is it over there?’
‘Mmm… a quarter bell after nine in the evening, by my reckoning. Where are you?’
‘Kugane. Atop the hostelry. No one else can get up there, but… I can be with you within the hour, if you’d like.’
‘As much as a lovely distraction as you are, some of us have to work,’ Aymeric teased, a smile spreading over his face despite his weariness. ‘Not all of us can retire and vanish into the wilderness at the tender age of thirty two.’
‘You were supposed to finish work four bells ago,’ Estinien retorted, and Aymeric could picture his spiky posture, complete with crossed arms and grumpy scowl as he perched on the top of the tower. ‘Stay the night with me. I can tether you when we teleport back and have you home by the morn, get you an Eastern-style breakfast.’
Aymeric sighed. ‘I’d love to- ‘
‘But?’
‘I have to finish this report. ‘Twas dropped on my desk not an hour ago and urgently needs a reply, something about troubles at the border.’
‘Is it serious?’
‘Mm. Doubtful. Some silly squabble between some merchants, insofar as I can tell. They’re most probably being cautious.’
‘So it can be left ‘til the morning then, surely?’ There was a muffled thump to accompany his words, but Aymeric knew better than to ask lest he wanted another grey hair to add to his collection. Instead he sighed and ran a weary hand over his face, rubbing at his temples to try and ward off the impending headache.
‘The sentries thought it worrisome enough to report to the Temple Knights, who thus delivered it to me upon their nightly check in. ‘Twould hardly seem fair I brush off their concerns.’
Estinien huffed. ‘If it’s the Temple Knight’s domain, then why not let Lucia handle it? ‘Tis what she is literally paid to do, is it not?’
‘... I gave her the day off,’ Aymeric admitted, dropping his gaze like he could already see Estinien’s disapproving glare. ‘There’s been a nasty case of influenza running through the city as of late, and she’s been coughing since yesterday.’
‘Aye, and you know what disrupts your aether and makes you more susceptible to influenza? Exhaustion. Overwork.’
‘Ah, well when I grace Halone’s halls, I can relax then. No rest for the wicked, as they say.’
That earned him a disbelieving splutter, bouncing down the linkpearl connection like a pebble thrown violently into a pond.
‘You?! Wicked?! You could tell me Dalamud was falling from the sky again and I’d easier believe it. Do not say such things. You are the furthest thing from wicked I could ever fathom.’
‘’Twas a jest, my darling,’ Aymeric said, though he’d be lying if he didn’t enjoy the glow of warmth in his chest at such a knee jerk defence. ‘I’ll finish this up and go in slightly later tomorrow.’
‘Finish the damned thing here. I’ll help, we can order dinner at the same time.’
‘I know full well you’ll persuade me into an onsen that you can order sake from, and I’ll be asleep in five minutes flat. And the last time you wrote up a report for me, no one could read your spidery handwriting.’
‘So I can’t persuade you?’
‘I would dearly love to, truly, if I thought I could get away with it. My apologies; mayhap this weekend we can- hello? Estinien?’ The line had gone crackly in his ear, and he tapped the linkpearl, perplexed. ‘Are you still there?’
‘Aye, I am. Damn thing must be on the fritz. I still say you can get away with it. I know your office has a back entrance.’
‘That’s meant to be used for evacuations, and is secret for good reason. If anyone were to find out they could easily access and kidnap the Lord Commander- ‘
Three sharp knocks sounded at the door, and Aymeric groaned.
‘Hold on, someone’s at the door; I’ll call you back.’
Forcing himself to his feet and smoothing his clothes, Aymeric took a deep breath and tried to remember how to be professional.
‘Come in!’
‘I’m kidnapping you,’ Estinien said flatly as he shoved the door open, arms crossed and looking thoroughly unimpressed. Aymeric stared at him for a second before breaking into laughter, burying his face in his hands.
‘You teleported all the way here to scold me?’
‘That I did. Now, we can either sneak out the secret entrance like a pair of lovestruck teenagers, or we can walk out the perfectly serviceable front door, whose presence you should have graced four bells ago.’
‘Isn’t the window your preferred exit method of choice?’ Aymeric asked, with an innocent expression that was thoroughly ruined by the impish grin that threatened to overtake him. Estinien rolled his eyes.
‘Home. Now. Or I really will take you to the wilds of Yanxia and leave you there.’
‘Will a certain someone be staying the night? Lest I find myself wandering back to my desk…’
‘That’s blackmail, Lord Commander,’ Estinien told him solemnly, slipping his arm through Aymeric’s and giving it a tight squeeze. ‘The things I do for you.’
They had to stop for a moment to regain their composure, lest anyone catch two very dignified soldiers in a fit of hysterical giggles, but it was worth it.
He had to admit, the evening was far more pleasant with Estinien there. Jannoux had long since gone home, leaving no one roaming the halls of the Borel mansion aside from his much beloved cat, who didn’t seem to be inclined to give up her place by the fire any time soon. ‘Twas hardly a trial to spend an evening alone with a glass of wine and a good book, but it could be a sobering thought to look around and realise you hadn’t spoken a word aloud for hours at a time. He’d never dream of forcing Estinien to stay in Ishgard all year round – they’d had enough arguments about that to last a lifetime – but it made him so happy when his partner returned, even if only for a night.
‘I missed you,’ he told Estinien, snuggling closer and laying his head on Estinien’s chest. They were curled up on the chaise in the drawing room, swathed in blankets and legs thoroughly tangled together. An excellent bottle of mulled wine and a roaring fire were doing nothing to dispel the pleasant muzziness draped over him like a quilt. ‘You needn’t have gone to all this trouble.’
‘What, coming to see you? Don’t be daft.’
‘It’s a long way, you must be exhausted. As am I,’ he added, stifling a yawn. ‘Honestly, they’d chain me to the desk if they had half the chance.’
‘You do the job well enough for them,’ Estinien told him, tightening his grip on Aymeric’s waist like he really would start trekking back to the office. ‘At least you’ll have the next sennight to relax, you’ve more than earned it.’
‘Hmm?’ Aymeric shot him a confused look. ‘Why would I-?’
Estinien’s eyes opened properly, squinting down at him in a way that was equally as adorable as it was scrunched up. Aymeric sometimes liked to tell him this because then he’d frown, and subsequently look even more ridiculous.
‘What week is it?’
‘I have no idea,’ Aymeric confessed. ‘They do tend to blur together when you work so many late nights.’
‘Starlight, Aymeric. Relaxation and kindness to your fellow Eorzeans? The Saint of Nymeia turning up on your godsdamned doorstep and handing out gifts?’
‘’Tis a normal day for the government; oh, no, tell a lie. We might get a half day, if the meetings conclude on time.’
Now Estinien looked thoroughly confused. ‘What kind of meetings are happening during Starlight?’
‘Conversations with the Ul’dahns, arranging apprenticeships for the goldsmiths in the Crozier so they can get some formal training, something about a work exchange. ‘Twould be a useful boon with everything going on, so it seemed prudent not to wait. They don’t hold much with Starlight, apparently.’
‘But – but the Firmament is right there. I heard talk of them setting up an ice rink, artisan cups of hot chocolate. I had plans.’ He sounded thoroughly dismayed and for a moment Aymeric genuinely felt bad.
‘Did you tell anyone about these plans?’
‘I wrote them down.’ He leaned over for his ever-battered duffle bag, tossed carelessly at the foot of the chaise, and produced something that might have been parchment, two lifetimes ago. ‘Had to do something while Orn Khai was pandering to his fans and playing celebrity.’
‘It does tend to help if you tell people about plans sooner than a few days before,’ Aymeric chided, but gently, squeezing Estinien’s hand to take the sting out of his words. ‘Ul’dah doesn’t care much for Starlight, at least not to a strict calendar date, and this was the best time to catch them before sales picked up again. Being the head of state doesn’t stop because it’s the holidays, I’m afraid. I dread to think how much work will pile up from even a half day.’
‘You could call in sick.’
‘Mm, because sick people trek around ice skating. I’m sorry; mayhap if I make an effort to leave early, we could go together in the evening, if I’m not too tired.’
‘The idea was to get you seeing sunlight every once in a while,’ Estinien grumbled. ‘Honestly, the star shan’t end because you take a few days to relax.’
‘This is more than enough for me.’ Aymeric stretched luxuriously, burying his head in the crook of his partner’s neck. ‘We don’t need to do anything to celebrate; being here with you is enough. All the pageantry is mostly for the children, anyroad.’
‘You fall asleep in front of the fire every night. At least let me cook for you.’
‘If you really want to, but truly there’s no need for a fuss. ‘Tis just another day, after all.’
‘Hmm.’
And with that, Aymeric thought he’d won the argument. Estinien’s silence seemed normal, albeit a little pensive, but that was far from unusual, so all seemed right with the world.
Unfortunately, what Estinien hadn’t had a chance to tell him yet is that he’d joined the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, most of whom thought as highly of Aymeric as he did, as well as the sacred spirit of Starlight.
The gears were turning, and plans were hastily being revised.
Aymeric dozed on, oblivious.
‘All right! We’re here, all present and accounted for, aside from the man himself.’ Alphinaud slumped into his seat, fighting to catch his breath. ‘Pray tell; does anyone know what this is about?’
He got several “no’s,” chorused back at him from the rest of the Scions, and an exaggerated shrug from Susa.
‘It sounded urgent. He called all of us,’ she signed, but looked completely as baffled as the rest of them. ‘Even bothered to find out how my linkpearl works, which is incredible. Estinien looks at any technology like it’s been summoned from the Allagans themselves.’
‘I take it this behaviour is… unusual?’ G’raha put forward, eyes flicking back and forth between the group, probably in an attempt to figure out what on earth was going on. ‘If our friend has found out anything about the Final Days- ‘
‘He’d go and hit it with a stick before calling an emergency meeting,’ Alisaie said with a yawn. ‘Honestly, I’ve only met the man for five minutes and I know he doesn’t do politics or the sensible approach. Something must be wrong.’
Alphinaud elbowed his twin and subsequently ignored her outraged squawk.
‘Loathe as I am to agree with my sister, she is correct. He doesn’t ask for help, ever.’
‘But if it were something truly troubling, there would be more signs, more chatter. I’ve not heard a peep of anything worrisome other than those towers, nary a word from Krile about getting us into Sharlayan.’ Thancred tipped back on his chair, deep in thought. ‘Riol’s out in the field most days and has constant contact with the rest of our intelligence network. If anything truly nasty were to appear, we’d know of it.’
‘Mayhap he intends to rescind his decision to join the Scions,’ Urianger murmured, staring deep into the cup of tea he was holding. ‘Mine impression was one of reluctance…’
‘He wouldn’t. He promised.’ Alphinaud’s tone held no room for argument. ‘At any rate, if he truly did not wish to accompany us, he wouldn’t call us all together like this.’
‘No, he’d go and live in a cave again. We’d have to track him down like a hunt mark.’ Susa’s face brightened. ‘Shall I start drawing his bounty portrait? Scowly with pointy ears, can’t be that hard.’
G’raha was looking more and more scandalised by the minute, following her signs with remarkable accuracy.
‘You would hunt down the Azure Dragoon like a common bailiff collecting their toll? How do you find a man who very much does not want to be found?’
‘Oh it’s easy; you just have to follow the sightings of the weird guy with a glowing spear- ‘
‘Hello, Estinien!’ Alphinaud said loudly, pointedly giving them one of the looks he’d picked up from Aymeric or one of the other politicians. ‘Please, sit down, you must have been travelling a while.’
‘Thank you, Alphinaud – wait, you are Alphinaud, aren’t you?’
‘Oh, you caught us – we swapped clothes just to trick you,’ Alisaie deadpanned. ‘Still, that won’t matter if there’s some star-shattering cataclysm we have to prevent.’
Now it was Estinien’s turn to look confused as he took a seat; well, he wasn’t covered in blood, so that was a good start. No armour but Gae Bolg was within arms reach, instead dressed in trousers that didn’t have holes in them and a warm red sweater that looked like it had actually seen a washtub recently. Alphinaud relaxed, just a little bit. Danger rarely came in such a reasonably put together form.
‘Yes, I too would like to know what requires such urgency,’ Alphinaud said, picking up his twin’s train of thought and giving her a grateful nod. ‘We were all rather concerned when you called us all together like this.’
‘Especially at three bells past midnight,’ Thancred said, raising an eyebrow. ‘Usually that means someone is in mortal peril, no?’
Estinien frowned. ‘Mortal peril sounds about the right of it. I swear he’ll end up working himself into a sickbed should this carry on much longer.’
There were only a handful of people Estinien deigned to show this much concern for, so that was narrowing it down, at least.
‘Has a tower appeared closer to Ishgard?’ Alphinaud asked. ‘I can send more scouts if Ser Aymeric is concerned.’ Estinien shook his head.
‘Nay – I check the Dravanian tower every few days but so far it seems to just… loom there without doing anything. No signs of monsters or voidsent.’
‘Then what has befallen Ser Aymeric? Surely not more trouble with the Dravanians? Or is the church stirring things up again?’ Alphinaud’s mind was flipping through the possibilities at lightning speed, each disaster worse than the next. They had had a quiet few weeks, everything hanging in an eerie limbo while they watched and waited; hardly surprising this was when the hammer fell.
Estinien sighed, running a weary hand down his face to pinch at the bridge of his nose.
‘Ah yes, that. Aymeric won’t take time off for Starlight, and my pestering him isn’t changing his mind.’
Thancred’s chair hit the floor with a loud thud, saved only from a concussion by clinging to Urianger for dear life. G’raha was coughing after he’d choked on his tea, and Susa seemed to be convulsing but that was most likely just her laughing with her head buried in her arms. Y’shtola had the tiniest smile on her face versus Tataru’s giggling, and Alisaie looked thoroughly unamused.
‘That isn’t worth calling an emergency Scion meeting over,’ she told him. Urianger gave her a grave look, the impact somewhat lost due to Thancred draped over his shoulders like a scarf.
‘Sometimes, Mistress Alisaie, being a Scion involves saving the very star from yet another Calamity. And other times, we are called upon to preserve the sacred spirit of Starlight.’
‘Thank you!’ Estinien told him, looking every bit as serious as if he’d told them Dalamud was falling out of the sky a second time. ‘He rarely takes a day off but I thought at least he’d make an exception for Starlight. Now he’s talking of treating with Ul’dah and apprenticeships on bloody Starlight week!’
‘Be – be that as it may, what are you expecting us to do about it?’ Tataru asked, swiping a tear of laughter from her eye. ‘He is a world leader, after all, and politics rarely sleeps.’
‘I agree,’ Alphinaud said, finding his voice after momentarily being stunned into silence. ‘Chronic overworking isn’t something we can bludgeon with a sword, and with those towers popping up all over the place, solving personal problems may have to come lower on the agenda.’
‘Actually.’ Susa’s head popped up, apparently quite recovered from her fit. ‘Why can’t we? It’s not like anything has happened yet. The towers are quiet and there’s no word from Krile, is there?’
‘Not as of yet,’ Alphinaud said, looking over to Tataru for confirmation, who also shook her head. ‘But we do need to monitor the towers daily, if not more. There’s no telling when they will strike!’
‘Yes, yes, I realise that,’ Susa flapped a hand at him. ‘But until it actually does anything, we’re all just sitting around. So why can’t we help Estinien? We have our own Starlight party just about sorted. I’ll go mad if I have to wrap any more presents to Tataru’s specifications.’
‘Well… I mean, that is…’
‘Because the Scions of the Seventh Dawn wasn’t set up to give relationship advice?’ That was Alisaie, and in truth Alphinaud didn’t entirely disagree.
‘My relationship is none of your concern,’ Estinien cut in, arms tightly folded across his chest. ‘But Aymeric is an ally of yours as well, and it would wholly benefit you if he were healthy and rested prior to whatever ominous portent is about to unfold. That and… ‘ He hesitated, dropping his gaze. ‘I worry for him. He works far too hard of late, and I had nowhere else to turn.’
The silence stretched on for a moment before Urianger gently breached it.
‘Lord Aymeric is also our dear friend. We all know he has a most unfortunate habit of running his aether into the very ground. If we have the resources to assist then I believe it would be prudent.’
‘I was getting rather bored of hearing Riol tell me there was nothing new to report,’ Thancred admitted, a grin starting to spread over his face.
‘Then that settles it.’ Y’shtola rested her chin on her clasped hands, eyes laser focused on her target. ‘What would you have us do, Ser Estinien?’
If there was anything Alphinaud was good at, it was tackling projects. His days at the Studium had taught him time and time again that a measured approach was the best one, and allocating one’s resources appropriately would lead to success. So with that, he carefully listened as Estinien explained about the talks with Ul’dah, work piling up in Aymeric’s absence, and the tiny window of time that the Lord Commander could relax for.
‘It sounds like he’d rather appreciate the rest rather than trekking off to somewhere distant,’ Alisaie said, drumming her fingers on the table as she thought. ‘You said he sounded tired.’
‘Mmm. I had wanted to take him to Thavnair, a fairer clime as to afford a respite from the freezing temperatures, but it’s hardly a trip you can do overnight, unless you have my levels of aether.’
‘So, realistically, we’re looking at two days, one night…’ Thancred mused. ‘And whilst I doubt Ishgard has much in terms of luxury, anywhere you did go would have you both inundated with attention and whispers, so that rules out a trip…’
They’d relocated to one of the less formal sitting rooms that generally didn’t see official Scion business. The Rising Stones was an expansive building and upon moving in, Tataru had taken it upon herself to give it a more homey feel, and that included making it feel less like a storehouse. This room in particular had been fitted out with soft sofas, armchairs, and a particularly squashy beanbag, which his sister commandeered each and every time they used the place. Today was no exception.
‘I did have an idea. Somewhat. I just have no idea how to arrange this all on a few day’s notice,’ Estinien admitted. He was hunched over and looked surprisingly small, avoiding eye contact as much as he could and directing most of his sentences to the floor, ears flushing the slightest hint of red at the tips. Alphinaud could sympathise, if nothing else. Asking for help was one thing; asking for help with romantic gestures in front of your pseudo-younger siblings and colleagues was quite another.
Susa’s head snapped up. ‘Ooh, I want to hear the idea!’ When he failed to pay attention to her, she impatiently swatted him on the arm until he looked over, then repeated herself with an exaggerated frown. ‘Tell me!’
‘Well… Aymeric speaks often of travelling. Of seeing the star. Until he became Lord Commander, I don’t believe he was ever able to venture further than Coerthas for anything less than work obligations. And, as it stands, I cannot take him to those far off places, so I thought to bring those to him instead. I just haven’t a clue where to start other than procuring some tea syrups from Gridania and buying one of their cakes.’
Estinien’s arms were crossed and his posture spiky, as if daring them to laugh at him. Alphinaud cast a quick glance around to make sure he didn’t have to covertly kick anyone under the table, but was instead met with a myriad of thoughtful expressions.
‘So decorations from Gridania, Hannish foodstuffs, souvenirs from Kugane, that sort of thing?’ G’raha ventured. ‘We didn’t have Starlight on the First per se, but we did have the Midwinter Festival, which is probably similar. I would celebrate it with Lyna, when she was small, and we made wreaths from the blooms in Lakeland. If someone can help me track down some similar ones, I’d be happy to show you how to make them.’
‘Oh, and I can ask Lyngsath about spices! The Culinarian’s guild always has some interesting things in the back of the pantry; at the very least, he’ll know where I can find some Hannish stuff.’
‘How many suns until this meeting?’ Urianger asked. ‘It would not do to make plans so elaborate that we lack the time to adequately prepare…’
‘Two. The meeting with the Goldsmith’s guild is meant to be on the Windsday, and Iceday is meant to be a day of rest… the House of Lords apparently declared that day to be the official Starlight Day since it fell on the holy day this year, with the Lightningsday making it a long weekend. I’d hoped to spend it with Aymeric…’
‘But he usurped your plans by booking a meeting in with the Ul’dahns,’ Y’shtola finished. ‘I see. Today is Earthsday, so we have a little time to assign ourselves roles and something to bring, and then we can spend the two days after that putting it all together.’
‘What, here?’ Alphinaud cast a sceptical glance around the room. ‘Not that we would lack for space, I grant you, but teleporting everything over to Ishgard would be cumbersome to say the least.’
Susa shook her head, reaching for her bag and producing a key. She spun the ring on her finger with an exaggerated flourish, looking quite pleased with herself.
‘I have a house in the Empyreum. Much easier to make everything there than to lug it half the way across the continent.’
Alisaie gaped at her. ‘Since when did you have several million gil to be able to buy a house? On a private plot, no less?’
‘Ask no questions and I’ll tell you no lies~!’ She tossed the key over to the younger girl, getting to her feet and tugging her shoes on. ‘Plot 4, 16 Ward, the guards should be able to show you where it is. It’s near the market so you should be able to pick up supplies there.’
‘And where are you going?’
Susa flashed her a grin. ‘Oh, I have a sudden urge to take up goldsmithing. Sadly I can’t be in Ul’dah for very long. Just this Iceday, to be precise.’
The next couple of days were a flurry of activity, even by Scion standards. Aymeric was rising with the sun, as per usual, and didn’t ask too many questions as to what Estinien was doing in Ishgard on a Windsday.
‘I’m simply delighted you’re staying,’ was all he said over breakfast, his gaze affectionate and finally, blessedly free of worry. ‘Do you have an idea of how long?’
‘Through Starlight week,’ Estinien said vaguely. ‘Even if I only get to spend a half day with you, ‘tis better than none.’
‘Having my best friend to come home to makes the thoroughly dull meetings bearable.’ Aymeric reached across the table to give Estinien’s hand a squeeze. ‘I know Starlight is a difficult time for you. Having you even spend a few bells here for my sake is more than enough.’
‘Aye, well, I’ve had time to think. About a lot of things. About you. Us.’ He flushed red as Aymeric chuckled, no doubt remembering the somewhat stumbled confession on his balcony in the middle of the night, and his halting announcement to the Scions a few months ago, which had been nothing short of mortifying. Alphinaud had looked like he was about to cry. ‘Growing up, Starlight felt like salt in the wound, a reminder of what was lost. Alberic tried his best but it was never quite enough, and I would not have appreciated it regardless. But now I have things to live for, things to look forward to. People who smile upon my return. Our relationship has changed.’
‘Hmm, yes. I get to flirt with you and you don’t run off like a startled cat,’ Aymeric teased. ‘You were very cute, if it’s any consolation.’
‘I’m the former Azure Dragoon. I’m not cute.’
‘Yes, dear. Anyway, you were saying?’
‘Any more out of you and I really will go and find somewhere obscure to hide,’ Estinien grumbled, but it was entirely without heat. ‘My point is, we have changed. For the better. So why shouldn’t everything else? If I can heal this, mayhap I can some of the deeper wounds.’
Aymeric’s gaze softened. ‘I’m so proud of you. Truly.’
‘Don’t expect anything astonishing and spectacular. I’m no miracle worker. Sleeping most nights and eating twice a day is already difficult enough.’
‘Estinien, you said yourself you weren’t expecting to survive the war. I must confess I was preparing myself to script a speech for your funeral.’ Aymeric looked away, the early morning light highlighting his face and making him look so damn young. ‘Having you here with me right now is nothing short of miraculous.’
Estinien squeezed his hand tight. ‘I’m lucky you put up with me.’
‘Gladly. Over and over again, for as long as it takes.’
The food wound up being forgotten for quite a while, and Aymeric being late for work, but neither could bring themselves to mind.
Susa’s house was easy to spot amongst the rows of identical houses. On the one hand, she’d never advertised it as the Warrior of Light’s domain, but on the other, she didn’t seem particularly worried about fitting in. The door and window frames were a gaudy pink, and flowers were spilling over the walls of the front garden despite the freezing weather, a cacophony of colour against the snow. Estinien hopped the wall and let himself in, careful not to tread on any of the flower beds, because then he never would hear the end of it.
Evening was drawing in and snow was starting to fall, casting gold light across the streets as it caught the light of the fires. Even in the residential areas away from town people were celebrating, putting last minute touches on Starlight trees or pelting each other with snowballs. It was surprisingly homey for somewhere that, not a few moons ago, had been mostly heaps of desolate rubble.
As the door swung open, he was immediately greeted by the scent of gingerbread and the sound of squabbling. Alisaie was holding an icing bag tauntingly just out of reach as her brother tried to grab it, and the purported supervisor was too busy dyeing garlands of flowers gold to notice the Eighth Umbral Calamity brewing right next to her.
‘Alphinaud, they don’t need complete winter outfits and we’re short on time, just give them Starlight hats and be done with it!’
‘If we’re to do this, we’re doing this properly, and they can hardly be ready for Starlight if they aren’t dressed for it!’
‘... If we’re to eat them, does it matter?’ Estinien asked, feeling a little foolish. It had been easy enough to synthesise the biscuits with a hasty lesson from Susa, but delicate work had never been his forte. Leaving it in the hands of an artist had seemed the more sensible option.
‘Details are important!’ Alphinaud insisted. ‘You gave me a job, I’m doing my job.’
‘Well, these are done!’ Susa piped up, waving an arm to grab their attention. ‘Y’shtola is going to help me enchant some prisms so they’re Starlight-themed, why don’t you go and set these up with Estinien?’ She piled the garlands into Alisaie’s arms, neatly snatching the icing bag as she did so. ‘Don’t disturb the artistic process and all that.’
‘I’ll go too,’ G’raha hastily volunteered, looking keen to escape lest someone started throwing icing sugar. ‘I found some decorations at the markets that look like those on the First, we can put them on the Starlight tree.’
‘I hope you share your brother’s artistic talent,’ he told Alisaie, nodding his thanks to G’raha. ‘I don’t believe I’ve decorated a Starlight tree for at least a decade.’
Alisaie puffed up with outrage, hands on her hips. ‘Of course I do! I may not sketch but I’m excellent at decorating, thank you very much. Mother always left me the job after Alphinaud started insisting on colour co-ordination.’
‘Wonderful, then let’s go before we lose the light, shall we?’ G’raha shepherded her out, steering her away from the offending icing bag and out into the snow. Estinien glanced around the cluttered living room; the kitchen counters were covered with various foodstuffs, including a fresh dodo, popotoes, and other vegetables ready to be cooked tomorrow, and the cake Estinien had picked up from Gridania. The gingerbread folk would be finished as soon as the twins finished arguing, the Hannish sweets neatly packaged up, and the Starlight log rolls sprinkled with powdered sugar were the first thing cooked that morning. The decorations had all been sent off with Alisaie; hopefully they weren’t missing any.
He voiced as much to Susa, who shook her head.
‘Urianger sorted out some mulled wine and orchestrion rolls; I had some Starlight ones I was going to sell.’
‘I can give you the gil- ‘
‘Don’t be silly, I’d rather the two of you enjoy them.’
He huffed. ‘And Krile dares to call me bad with money. You won’t have enough to live on yourself if you keep giving things away.’ Susa shrugged, getting to her feet and stretching so her joints popped.
‘I mean… they’re talking about the end of the world. Again.’
‘Feels like that’s every other Earthsday around here.’
‘True, but… we can all see those towers, we’ve seen what Fandaniel’s capable of. It feels very real this time; I was in Thavnair when Dalamud fell. Gets you thinking. About a lot of things.’ Her face was unusually serious, amber eyes narrowed in thought. ‘We need to grab happiness where we can, think of the important things. What’s another handful of gil when you and Aymeric get to have a happy Starlight?’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s unusually insightful, for you.’
‘Ah, well. A broken chronometer is right six times a day and all that.’
‘I suppose so, but regardless… thank you, all the same.’ Then, because he couldn’t resist:
‘So does that mean you’ll be confessing to a certain Haillenarte lad any time soon?’
‘What?’
‘He’s still out in the Firmament; I expect Francel would be delighted if you stopped in- ‘
‘Out, out!’ She attempted to push him out the door, and Estinien let her, a little impressed at how strong the little Auri actually was. G’raha did stop him falling down the steps, which was nice.
‘Keep him out of trouble. Buy some of those child reins, stop him wandering off,’ she signed to the bewildered redhead, and slammed the door behind her.
‘Do I want to ask?’
‘Apparently meddling in her romantic life is off limits, but mine is fair game,’ Estinien grumbled, picking up one of the boxes and starting to walk. ‘Come, let’s put these decorations up. Aymeric’s never home before seven, most nights.’
‘... We’re to be invading the Lord Commander of Ishgard’s living room?!’
‘Unless you have a better place for a Starlight tree?’
‘We’d best hurry up before G’raha faints!’ Alisaie called over her shoulder. ‘Try not to have conniptions until after we’re done setting up!’
‘Hey- !’
Iceday dawned grey and cold, the sun very much refusing to emerge from beneath its pile of clouds blanketed atop it. Indeed, Estinien was reluctant to move; the bed was wonderfully warm, and Aymeric’s sleeping face was a delight to behold. The frowns and stress that normally lined his face were gone, and his sleep actually looked restful, for once.
Aye, this had been worth all the to and fro. It always was, for Aymeric.
They didn’t untangle themselves until late morning, Estinien only moving to light the fires and to feed an increasingly irritated cat. The accursed creature had kept yowling until he’d gotten up, and he’d given in if only to give Aymeric more of a chance to sleep. To his surprise, Aymeric hadn’t even stirred; he must have been truly needing the rest. Still, at least it gave Estinien the excuse to wrap Aymeric in his arms and hold him close, and smile as Aymeric sighed and curled into him, seeking the warmth.
Yes, this was worth it.
He didn’t realise Aymeric had awoken until he caught his lover watching him, eyes soft and impossibly fond. His head was pillowed on Estinien’s chest, right above his heart, his dark curls tangled into a mess that was almost artisanal. The mere sight of him; warm, content, safe was enough to make a smile of Estinien’s own appear.
‘Oh good, you’re up,’ Estinien said, tone deliberately flippant as he carried on reading the book he’d stolen from downstairs. ‘I was beginning to think you intended to sleep the entire day away.’ He no longer attempted to hide his small smile as Aymeric craned his neck to kiss his cheek, settling into the crook of his neck and twining an arm around Estinien’s waist.
‘I may well do so, now I have the chance. Apparently the Ul’dahn’s requested to postpone the meeting at the last minute, and the rest of my staff have departed for the long weekend. No one to receive my missives or read over my reports, at any rate.’
‘Oh, really? A shame, that.’
‘You wouldn’t have anything to do with it, would you?’
‘Ask Susa next time you see her,’ Estinien said, because gods above, if she was going to make his life difficult now he’d decided to join the Scions, he would shamelessly return the favour. ‘Something about taking up goldsmithing. Breakfast?’
‘I’ll grab something later- ‘
‘No, you won’t. I said I’d cook for you.’ At Aymeric’s surprised look, he raised an eyebrow. ‘What? I keep my promises. You deserve a chance to rest; the least I can do is cook you proper food.’
‘This coming from the man who sometimes manages to remember to eat twice a day?’
‘I can make gruel,’ Estinien threatened, Aymeric paying him no heed as he laughed and begged a moment to get ready. Estinien took the opportunity to slip downstairs, scooping up the cat on the way out. ‘Not a word out of you to ruin the surprise,’ he warned it, and the creature blinked, then hissed at him. Such was the way of the world.
Ten minutes later, a second set of footsteps padded downstairs, calling after him.
‘In here!’ Estinien called back, quickly turning on the orchestrion and Aymeric poked his head into the living room as the first refrain of a Gridanian orchestra broke out into a harmony, crooning about the snow on the ground and candles in windows.
‘What’s all this?’ he asked with a surprised laugh, trailing a hand over the vivid purple wreath Estinien had hung over the fireplace, looking at the holly and mistletoe garlands Susa had somehow managed to dye a burnished gold, the berries expertly dried and absolutely covered in glitter. ‘Did you make these?’
‘Aye, some of them. I had help.’
‘And the tree? I can’t remember the last time I had the energy to set one up.’ Aymeric drifted closer, staring wide-eyed at the haphazardly decorated tree. Strings of delicately-coloured seashells and bleached driftwood reindeer were draped over the branches, carefully laid by Alisaie, the soft pink and hazy blues standing out against the dark needles of the potted fir. ‘I’ve never seen one like this before.’
‘’Tis what they do in Limsa, or so I’m told. Families gather shells and wood from the shores and hang them up as thanks for the Navigator. I didn’t have time to make my own, but the markets sold them readily enough.’
‘And the ornaments - sea glass?’
‘Ah, now that was the Warrior’s doing. From the First, if you can believe it. I told her not to go to the trouble but she insisted. Apparently they specialise in glassblowing over there, and she brought them back for me.’ Aymeric turned one of the baubles to the light in fascination, the glass catching and sending a sheen of deep blue over his face. ‘When you ask a Scion to do something, they go overboard, evidently. I suppose I’m no different.’
‘I believe you have a story to tell me,’ Aymeric said, amused, but the wonder and joy hadn’t left his face. ‘Why are you petitioning the Scions of the Seventh Dawn to decorate my living room?’
‘I will, just wait a moment.’ He ducked back into the kitchen, bringing through a tray, holding a plate piled high with gingerbread folk (purple hats, but that was artists for you) and two steaming mugs. Aymeric gladly took one, humming with pleasure as he took a sip.
‘I don’t believe I’ve had hot chocolate quite like this before.’
‘Sharlayan spiced hot chocolate. I sat through a half bell lecture from Urianger before he let me make it, something about “appreciating the years of work that went into the recipe,” as if the scholars could get even more ridiculous,’ Estinien said with a snort. ‘Turned out quite well, though.’
Aymeric listened as Estinien attempted his explanation, shuffling closer until they were shoulder to shoulder, and he was leaning against Estinien. Estinien extracted his free hand and wrapped it around Aymeric’s shoulders, noticing how relaxed the muscles were and how warm Aymeric’s head was as he rested upon his shoulder.
‘I just… wanted to bring the star to you, since you were unable to see it yourself,’ he finished, suddenly feeling self conscious. ‘I have food from various places, and I can tell you the stories of the decorations, if you’d like. Or we can just sit here- ‘
‘I am truly lucky to have someone as kind and thoughtful as you in my life,’ Aymeric murmured, reaching for Estinien’s hand. ‘Most would have accepted that their partner was not around to celebrate the holiday and yet you moved heaven and earth to bring the stars to me.’
‘I’m only sorry you couldn’t truly see Thavnair or Kugane. Both are beautiful, this time of year.’
‘This is more than enough; thank you. From the bottom of my heart.’ Aymeric sat back up properly and pulled him in for a kiss, lips dusted with sugar and the faint taste of cinnamon. ‘But speaking of surprises…’
Estinien groaned. ‘Please don’t give me back the Azure Dragoon title. I don’t want it.’
‘Ah, but you could be the Starlight Dragoon now. Get lights strung across your armour and baubles on your helmet- ‘
‘Oh, you’re hilarious- ‘
‘But alas, nothing to do with that. Wait here; had I known you were procuring a tree, I would have left it there.’ He returned not a moment later with a large package wrapped in colourful paper, pushing it into Estinien’s arms. ‘For you, love. Happy Starlight.’
‘You didn’t have to get me anything!’ Estinien protested. ‘You’re busy enough as it is, let alone gift shopping for the likes of me.’
‘The shops in the Crozier stay open until late and I can hardly be blamed if I walk home through there.’ Aymeric gently nudged his arm. ‘Go on, open it. I want to see what you think.’
Estinien tore the parcel open, letting the wrapping drift to the floor before carefully lifting the gift free. It was a sturdy leather pack, the leather polished to a gleam, gold buckles glowing against the warm tones of the bag. Dangling from one of the straps was a delicate blue crystal, intricate and glittering but still strong enough to withstand travelling.
‘You could use it as a weapon, if you had the mind,’ Aymeric said, chuckling at his stunned expression. ‘I know your lance is never far from hand, but I do worry when you’re in some far flung place and sleeping in a cave. And at least now you can carry around more than a set of spare clothes in that ancient bag of yours!’
‘More space for souvenirs for you, eh?’
‘... The thought may have crossed my mind.’
Estinien smothered a laugh, letting the soft leather trail across his fingers. Rarely did he ever have something new; as a child, Alberic had been practical to a fault and hand me downs would suffice. As an adult, his belongings had become minimalist, and a small part of him wanted to change that. It was time to stop punishing himself for surviving.
‘I have something for you too,’ he admitted. ‘Though… nothing as grand as this. I should get you something better, really.’
‘Oh?’ Aymeric tipped his head to the side, curious. ‘Now you’ve caught my interest.’
‘You’ll laugh.’
‘I won’t, especially when I know how much thought you’ll have put into it. I promise,’ he added gently, squeezing Estinien’s hand. ‘I said it earlier, my love, you just being here is more than enough.’
‘I don’t want to just give you the absolute minimum, Aymeric. I want you to have the best of everything, even if… even if my best isn’t quite good enough, at present.’ He shuffled back a few ilms, reaching under the tree and passing over a parcel of his own. He’d begrudgingly asked Tataru for help wrapping it. ‘Here. Happy Starlight.’
Aymeric opened it maddeningly slowly, gaze transforming from inquisitive to confused at the contents. He ran his hands over the soft material, delicately examining every stitch and seam like a teacher looking over his student’s work, and Estinien could barely work up the courage to look at him.
‘It started when I was in Thavnair; you could buy scraps of material, left over from the weavers there. I only meant to pick up one or two patches to show you, but it became something of a habit… I asked for a few pointers each time I stopped in, traded a few hamsa’s or other bits and pieces for lessons.’ He was babbling now, face turning increasingly red. ‘Turns out you can’t ruin patchwork, at least not too badly.’
‘You mean to say you made this?’
‘Over half the bloody year, yes. Doesn’t take up too much space in the bag if you sew it together in pieces.’ Long nights alone had left him with too many thoughts rattling around in his head, and with the lack of a brutal training regime, a new hobby had become most welcome. ‘My family worked with textiles. Made blankets and the like; my da taught me to stitch when I was small. It took a few tries but I remembered eventually. Just started as a silly thing, but… I wanted you to have something to hold close, when I’m not there. You hate sleeping alone as much as I do.’
Aymeric wordlessly spread the quilt out in front of them, stretching it over the coffee table. It wasn’t made of squares, per se; truly the definition of patchwork. Odds and ends scavenged from wherever he could, cobalt strips of Thavnairan silk, kimono fabric from the Kugane weaver’s guild, embroidered with the most exquisite leaping fish in tiny silver thread, almost invisible against the ocean blue. Homespun Coerthan wool dyed the traditional Halonic blue, as dark as thunderclouds, Gridanian cotton patches with flowers painted on them, bright red poppies bobbing against a summer blue backdrop of a sky, every shade of cerulean that had caught his eye until any hope of a structured design had turned into a kaleidoscope of cloth and fractals.
When he’d left Ishgard for the first time, he’d left behind a multitude of possessions. Mostly to do with work, truth be told, spare weapons, potions and salves, that sort of thing. He still technically had an apartment he rented on the edge of town, oft left neglected because there was nothing to steal if some enterprising thief decided to try their luck. He’d only stopped by there for a change of clothes, and while digging through his wardrobe had he stumbled across his uniform. Far too nice ever to be worn, it was a formality at best, for the Azure Dragoon if they had been ever summoned to events of political import. Needless to say, the deep blue shirt had never been worn because they had a better chance of Estinien being the reincarnation of Shiva herself than him actually turning up to one of these events.
He had been planning to burn it, cast off the last dregs of Ishgard and melt its ice, something about being reborn in fire. But sitting there in his silent apartment, his mind conjuring up the ghost of the lonely man who had lived here, a certainty had crystallised in his head like it had been spoken aloud: he was tired of destroying things.
Cutting it up and stitching it to the quilt for the border, on the other hand, was the easiest decision he’d ever made.
‘I know it’s not perfect – look, I ran out of sewing thread there so had to use red, and I know some of the stitches are a mess, I can get you something else- ‘
‘Estinien.’ He abruptly shut up as Aymeric lifted his head, a smile stretched across his face and eyes a little shiny with tears. ‘I love it. I love it so much, thank you.’ He hugged Estinien so tightly it hurt, the quilt tangling between them, and Estinien huffed, burying his head in Aymeric’s shoulder.
‘The idea was not to make you cry,’ he said in a muffled voice, and Aymeric chuckled.
‘Happy tears, I promise you. It’s a little funny, isn’t it; both gifts are something to keep with us, while we’re apart. A reminder of each other. Of home. Of the man I love most in the world, even if he does sabotage my meetings.’
‘I told you, I had nothing to do with that. The Warrior of Light is a strange creature who does things on a whim at a moment’s notice.’
‘Like taking up goldsmithing?’
‘Like taking up goldsmithing.’
(in truth, the vision of Aymeric wrapped in his quilt, curled in Estinien’s lap and laughing at the utterly awful jokes Thancred had put into the Starlight crackers was worth all the gold in Eorzea).