Chapter Text
Rica sighed. Her room at the Annex looked like a hot mess, and she was very aware of that fact, but there wasn’t much she could do about it, nor was she in the right state of mind. Things lay strewn around, and her usual attire was sprawled across a chair next to the bed, boots standing just at the bedside. When she had changed into more loose clothes earlier, the thought struck her that the Final Days could worsen at any moment, and then she needed to be battle-ready in seconds. Even if it made her room look even worse.
Grumbling, she sank down further in her chair. There were so many thoughts running about, rendering the Summoner almost unable to do anything. Everyone was busy preparing for the Ragnarok’s take-off tomorrow, but when she had wanted to contribute, Alphinaud and G’raha had sent her off to the Annex to rest, claiming that she would need her strength once they went after Meteion. But by now, they should know that not being able to contribute made Rica feel worse.
There was a short, but firm knock on her door, and she frowned, thinking deeply about who it could be. Someone checking up on her, investigating whether she was truly resting? Alphinaud? Curious, she opened the door, but upon seeing just who it was, she shrunk back a bit. “Oh, um… hi?”
Estinien gave her an amused smirk, pushing inside the room. “The boy sent you to rest, didn’t he?” He seemed oddly amused about that, and Rica just shrugged. “Well, you know him. He’s just worried about my well-being.” The Dragoon gave her a sharp look. “But you aren’t someone who is content with sitting around at a time like this.” The Miqo’te laughed nervously. “Guilty.” Estinien just… got her.
An uneasy silence settled in. Ever since they started travelling together again, feelings the Summoner had bottled up since the end of the Dragonsong War had been resurfacing, even after this long time of separation. The other hadn’t been oblivious to that, and they eventually talked about things. Ever since then, things had been at a sort of awkward stalemate. Sure, they’d been bonding more, always somehow gravitating towards the others, but both of them acting like this was a fickle dance. “So, what brings you here? Alphinaud sent you to rest as well?” The Dragoon chuckled. “I don’t think he would dare to do that. No, I came here to talk about… us.” The last part of the sentence rolled off his tongue strangely, as if he himself was unsure about the things he said. Or unfamiliar with them.
“Oh.” Rica’s ears twitched nervously. That was a topic she’d rather not have right now, with everything that was on her plate right now. Even Estinien avoided her gaze, looking around the room as if to distract himself. Eventually, his gaze settled on an open bottle of wine and a somewhat filled glass, his face conveying confusion. The Miqo’te laughed. “Don’t ask, that’s just my way of dealing with stress. An old habit from Limsa.” Without being prompted, she got up and fetched another glass, filling that one while also refilling her own. After sitting down again, she handed Estinien the second glass. “You know what? I think we both could use that right now.”
The other didn’t comment on her actions, but there was an amused smirk tugging at his lips. “You’ve always been a curious one. Whatever has been ailing you, you always chose to pull through what needs to be done, pushing your own feelings aside.” They raised their glasses, and she took a sip. “Yeah, and yet, there’s someone like you who sees right through me. I’m doing a bad job as the Warrior of Light. People have expectations, you know!” Estinien chuckled. “And those expectations are the reason we’re here like that.” Her ears dropped. “You know, even after all this time… I kind of regret that I didn’t speak up that day. But when we were travelling the Churning Mists, you always talked about what you would do once the Dragonsong War ended – travel about unfettered by any obligations. And I knew that being the Warrior of Light would always bind me down. I just didn’t want you to get bound in those chains as well.” Another deep sip. “I don’t regret following this path, even if I often wonder whether it’s enough or too much… urgh!” Her glass was put down with way too much force, a few drops of wine splayed across the table. “Sorry, you came here to talk about us, and I’m not being very romantic right now.” Frustrated, Rica buried a hand in her hair.
Estinien, however, was serious, unreadable. “Don’t drag yourself down over that. As the former Azure Dragoon, I can understand the weight that rests on your shoulders. And as someone consumed by his desire for revenge, I think that you underestimate the strength that you display by putting your feelings aside. Although I do wonder whether that might hold the same potential to wear you down.” He took a sip as well. “However, that’s not what usually bothers people like us. We choose to fight our fight, and deal with whatever else after that.” The Dragoon focussed her with his gaze. “That’s what I came here to discuss. Finish your path, and after tomorrow, when all is settled… let us figure out how to go from here. Together.” Insecurity rolled off his tongue with that last word again.
“Together…” Rica mumbled, swirling around the last drops of wine within her glass. Together… yeah, maybe if they both tried to figure things out, it would work. And after tomorrow, there shouldn’t be any immediate danger for a while. The Ascians and Zodiark had been dealt with, and with the Final Days averted, there would be a chance for her to rest without feeling guilty. She smiled. Yeah, that certainly was something she fondly looked forward to. Only Meteion had to be dealt with beforehand.
Which required crossing the universe, to place unknown to them, facing a being who could influence the very Dynamis itself if their theories were correct. A being that caused the Final Days, a calamity not even the Ancients of the Unsundered World were able to avert. There was a not very slim chance that they too would be unable to deal with Meteion and her sister, and that would mean that there wouldn’t be a tomorrow on the horizon.
Hastily, Rica got up. She could feel the stress of the last few days crawl along her back again, along with this new feeling of dread, and she didn’t want to show weakness. She couldn’t show weakness. “Rica?” Estinien asked, and she waved him off, her back facing him. “It’s alright!”, she tried to assure, but her traitorous voice was cracking. Silently, the Dragoon got up as well. “No, it’s not.”
With a frustrated cry, she sat down on the edge of her bed, shoulders slouched and hands clutching her chest. “I told myself it will be alright, but now I’m not sure anymore. I’m scared, Estinien! Scared that I’ll fail and there won’t be a tomorrow to look forward to, and I want that tomorrow!” Her voice cracked with every word, and she tried not to fully break down. No, she couldn’t do that, she needed to be emotionally collected before facing Meteion. Why did feelings always make this Warrior of Light business harder?
Estinien got on his knees, the metal of his armour making clicking sounds when it dragged along the floor. Slowly, almost as if afraid to hurt her, he took her hands in his. “Look at me”, he demanded. At first, the Miqo’te didn’t want to, because she surely looked pathetic right now. But then she remembered that Estinien didn’t judge, and eventually did as he asked. His eyes locked firm on hers, his hands giving hers a reassuring squeeze. “It will be alright.” He seemed so convinced, she wanted to believe him. “Allow me to help you believe in that tomorrow.”
His hands left hers, and he quickly and clumsily took off his vambraces. Again, very carefully, he took her face in his hands. Estinien’s palms were a little rough and calloused, but so very warm and comforting. For a little while, they just locked gazes. “May I?”, he asked, and Rica just nodded, afraid to say something. She had an inkling of what he wanted to do, or rather a small hope that made her breath hitch and her heart flutter.
Quickly, Estinien closed the gap between them. His lips on hers were rough, yet feather-light. There was a certain hesitation, and fuelled by her fluttering heart, Rica leaned in, deepening the kiss. It wasn’t heated, just… right and comforting, a warm feeling that put all her thoughts on pause. She didn’t know how long it took until they separated again, but Estinien didn’t let go of her face, gently resting his forehead against his. They stayed like this for a while, no one breaking the silence. Eventually, the Miqo’te released a shaky breath. “Yeah, that’s a tomorrow I will fight for.”
She wouldn’t lose now. Not with that what was waiting for her after the end.