Archive of Our Own

The first time Alisaie ever hears about Estinien, it’s from the Warrior of Light.

They’re in the midst of traveling through the Ruby Sea, after having finally garnered the Confederacy’s support to free the local villages from Yotsuyu’s reign. For now, they’ve finally settled for the night, but something soon catches Alisaie’s eye. Because as the Warrior sheds her armor by the campfire, removing her gloves in a well-practiced fashion, a series of untreated aetheric burns litter the palm of her hands.

“Hold on,” Alisaie demands, grabbing the Warrior’s wrist in a firm grip, flipping it over. “What are you doing? You can’t expect to get proper rest without tending to your wounds. These are severe. Much more severe than typical burns.”

Because while Alisaie doesn’t specialize in a healer’s occupation, she can at least gauge basic injuries. Typical aetheric burns usually only cause some skin discoloration, perhaps even a few blisters depending on the severity. So long as they’re patched up and checked on properly, there’s no permanent scarring.

Yet for these ones, the skin is not just faintly discolored. No, instead it’s littered with dried up, black splotches that consume her entire palm, standing out against the Warrior’s typical fair skin. Faint scar tissue line up these dark-colored bits in jagged cuts too, almost as though someone had attempted to patch them up to no avail. And lastly, what is most concerning, is the lingering essence Allaise senses from the scarring the moment she had made contact with her hand - an angry, leftover force hidden under those same scars that utterly radiates fury and vengeance.

To say the least, Alisaie is incredibly disturbed with the nature of an injury like this. Yet, even for Alisaie’s accusatory words, the Warrior’s shoulders are lax, and instead she has the gall to laugh.

“Oh these? I appreciate your concern, but it won’t be necessary.” As if to add insult to injury, she only wriggles her hand confidently in Alisaie’s grip. 

In return, Alisaie gives the Warrior a good, deadpan stare. “Then explain,” she demands, before shuffling closer. She tries to pour some of her healing magicks into the wound, but it does nothing. She squints.

“... It’s not working.”

The Warrior simply hums in response. “See? Truly, Alisaie, it really won’t be necessary,” she says, removing her palm from Alisaie’s hand. “I know it doesn’t look like it, but these burns are already properly treated for. In fact, Alphinaud has them too.” 

She smiles widely afterwards, as though she hadn’t dropped even more alarming intel. “Between the both of us, I’d like to consider them as badges of honor! It truly was an incredible endeavor on your brother’s part, for he never considered an alternative option to our dilemma. And I wasn’t about to leave him to pursue a suicide mission by himself either, so…” She lifts her palms, waving them in a cutesy fashion. “Leftover scars! T’was the best case scenario considering the circumstances.”

… Somehow, this only makes Alisaie feel even worse , because Alphinaud had mentioned none of this when they had reunited. Had he not deemed it as important news that wasn’t worth for her to know? She’s certain the next time she sees him, she’ll give him a lashing.

But he’s not here now. The Warrior is. So she narrows her eyes. “That’s not enough. You’ll have to elaborate more, if you’d be so kind.” 

Upon that, she realizes how biting her remark is. An instantaneous reaction from her indignation. So Alisaie sighs, forcing back a grimace as she curls her fist. With trepidation, she peeks at the other. 

“... Could you, please? Explain what had occurred?” she repeats, more softly this time.

And so, the Warrior obliges. By the campfire’s warmth, she recounts a tale - of how the Scions had been ousted, while she and Alphinaud had been thrust into the midst of the ongoing Dragonsong War. A war that had gone on for thousands of years, all within the heart of Ishgardian politics.

Truly, it’s both intriguing as it’s sobering. The muted sorrow in the Warrior’s voice is prevalent  when she details the regret she feels upon the fall of a Chivalric Knight. Nor does she hold back her admiration and compliments when speaking of a Lady in Blue - flawed yet human as she was. An unfortunate set of circumstances, Alisaie surmises, when the Lady sacrifices her life too. So when the Azure Dragoon that had joined their travels becomes possessed by the Eyes of Nidhogg - well, it’s only natural for Alisaie to assume that he’d meet that same fate.

… Except he doesn’t. This man, (Estinien , the Warrior reminds her) by all accounts should have died. Forced to become Nidhogg’s vessel, Estinien could no longer act on his own, except to fuel the wyrm’s bloodlust. For none would escape Nidhogg’s revenge, until the city was razed to the ground. A final chorus for humankind to lament their sins and despair.

Everyone had considered him as a lost cause. Everyone. Ishgard’s Azure Dragoon would no longer have a future, until he was six feet under.

And yet, everyone did not include Alphinaud. Alphinaud, her idiotic, optimistic, and reckless brother who was determined to save him simply because he wanted to. 

So the tale leads to its conclusion, one where her brother had charged headfirst into battle, ripping out the Eyes from Estinien’s body with the Warrior’s assistance. By no means had the two even known it would be successful either, but they had still tried. That was where the wounds had come from. These permanent blemishes on the palms of their hands, all for the slim chance of saving a single life.

In the end, Alisaie’s heart… sinks. Certainly, she had heard a brief recount on their time in Ishgard previously, but not to this extent. Why hadn’t she come by sooner? Why hadn’t Alphinaud told her any of this? Why wasn’t she…

She snaps back to focus upon hearing the Warrior’s musings. “I believe you’ll be able to take a liking to him though, assuming you’d ever meet. You both share some characteristics that would not make it so difficult.”

Perhaps another day, Alisaie would be more willing to note these same similarities they oh-so apparently share. But right now, with this guilt festering under her skin, it’s easy to let go for rage and irritation instead, as she stubbornly crosses her arms. “Please. Like I would be so idiotic as to carry both of Nidhogg’s eyes at once.”

The Warrior simply clicks her tongue, a sympathetic smile on her features. “When you presume your revenge conquest has finally reached its end, and that you’ve closed a thousand-year old war as well, it’s simple to make some errors. It just so happened to almost cost him his life.” 

And from there, the Warrior lets out a long sigh, before leaning backwards to collapse onto the floor, arms behind her head to gaze up at the skies. “Hm… I wonder where he’s traveled though. After he was discharged, he left rather suddenly. I’m sure he’s enjoying himself quite a bit,” she rambles with a vague, regretful smile. “T’was a shame though. Your brother was distraught by his bedside during his recovery. The least Estinien could do was offer a goodbye before leaving.”

The story continues from there, moving on from Ishgardian affairs to events more familiar to Alisaie, but by this point, she stops listening. Because if she had any poor opinions on this dragoon before, by now it only significantly lowers. Because this is how he shows his gratitude for Alphinaud? By running away?

Frankly, it’s awfully rude. Perhaps Alphinaud and the Warrior consider Estinien as a valued comrade - one with exceptional skill and aptitude - but Alisaie begs to differ. 

For now, she holds back any further comment. Not until she gets more insight into this man.

“Oh, Estinien?” Alphinaud asks when Alisaie interrogates him, before sending her a delighted smile. “He’s wonderful!”

The raw honesty of his words clashes so hard with her internal chagrin that it only makes the whiplash even worse. Her eye twitches. “... You’re joking.”

He shakes his head, utterly oblivious to the crimes he had just committed.

And so, she lets out a loud groan, covering her face in her hands. Her brother is so stupid - the fact that he can just stand there as though he hadn’t done anything wrong is making her lose her mind. She glares at him, jabbing a finger at his chest. “And do you have any sense of self worth!? Or pride!? Alphinaud, he-”

She grasps his wrist with her other hand. “Don’t try to hide it from me. I know what occurred that day,” she demands, and she must sound reasonably upset, because he simply lets her pull down his glove to see for herself.

The mottled, dark marks that engulf his palm are just as horrifying as the Warrior’s. Perhaps even more so, considering the Warrior’s job occupation. Even if it shouldn’t be, injuries should be second nature to the Warrior. 

Alphinaud, on the other hand, is a specialized healer. And if he also couldn’t rectify these burns - burns that cause such a feeling of unease and dread upon its touch, then…

Her voice falters. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed. And I would have been none the wiser.”

Still on her journey to find herself, while her brother was fighting for someone else’s life. Did Alphinaud have any idea how inexcusable that was? An unsteady silence falls between them as she grits her teeth, her hand trembling. Eventually, she feels him cover her hand with his.

“... Forgive me. T’was not my intent to cause you such distress. I should have known and informed you myself,” he murmurs. “I won’t make excuses, but these wounds that I bear… as horrifying as I don’t doubt it will sound to you, they’re well worth it to me.”

He says that with such conviction that her shoulders slacken, giving up. “You only met him for the span of a single journey. I’m not saying it was the wrong decision, but… you also can’t charge in blindly with no regard for your own self.” She pauses. “Your actions have consequences, Alphinaud. Those scars that you bear are permanent for the rest of your life.”

“Of course I understand that. More than anyone,” he responds back quickly, voice wistful. When her hand stops trembling and she regathers her composure, he lets go. “Perhaps to you, these wounds are a failure on my part. But to me, they’re a representation of how we tried and succeeded. And I don’t regret it. Not in the slightest.”

He continues. “I, myself, have much to thank Estinien for as well. Throughout our time in Coerthas, he was rather stern and brusque, yet also patient and kind. Regardless of his apprehensions, he still chose to place his faith in us. Not once did he ever treat me as beneath him, even if he had every right to do so with all my blunders. And because he never gave up on me, I could not even conceive of giving up on him in return.”

Alisaie presses her lips together, still in doubt. “Then why did he leave without a proper word? If that is how he expresses his own gratitude, then-”

“He did,” Alphinaud interrupts, before he realizes the harshness of his tone. “He did when he woke up. T’was one of the first things he said. He’s simply… in a much more difficult position in his life now.” He hums quietly in thought. “His years of seeking vengeance are over, and he holds the title of Azure Dragoon no more. Hence, his need to find a new purpose on his own. Surely, you can sympathize.”

It’s a subtle, yet pointed remark. Another similarity that she somehow shares with Estinien, much to her own displeasure. She understands more than anyone that pressing need to forge a new path under the name of self-discovery.

So, she settles, even as she crosses her arms. “... Fine, perhaps I do.”

To her dismay, Alphinaud has the sheer nerve to stifle a chuckle. “You don’t have to look so pained to admit that,” he teases, dodging when she reaches over to shove his shoulder. 

“Don’t mistake my admission for defeat in this matter! I can understand his reasons, yet still be frustrated,” she pouts as she attempts to shove his shoulder again. This time, to her pleasure, she succeeds. He rubs his shoulder as she continues. “If he’s such a firm friend, he should be more considerate. He can’t expect you both to pick up where you left off. And that’s assuming if he ever deems to show his face once more.”

“As much as I appreciate your concern, if that is to be the case, then I am willing to wait. As long as he requires,” Alphinaud firmly replies. “And if that day should come, my only request is for you to reserve your judgment until you both become more acquainted. I’m not asking you to take a liking to him, but… full glad would I be for you both to at least be cordial with one another.”

And the way he says this feels… different this time. In fact, it dawns on her that this entire exchange has been rather suspicious. For since their years in the Studium, not once had she seen him getting along with other males before - his pretentious arrogance was usually enough to deter them away, especially when he started prattling. And yet, every mention of Estinien’s name is laced with reverence, respect, and dare she even say, affection.

… Affection? She squints as he waits patiently for her response.

A part of Alisaie wonders if this may be a passing infatuation. She’s had her own fair share of crushes - those that she would sooner take to her grave than admit. If this is in line with her observations, this may truly be one of those situations.

Well, she may be overthinking too. After all, Alphinaud had mellowed out much more since their reunion. For all she knows, this may also be some strange, misplaced idolization on her brother’s part. If only he’d reconsider, but begrudgingly, she knows he’s just as stubborn as her. Which makes for an utterly hopeless case.

So she huffs at last, before conceding. “... Just don’t expect me to fuss after him like you are. The way you talk, one would suspect he’s the dashing knight in a fantasy book, and you the pining princess awaiting his return home. Do exercise some caution when the time comes, alright, brother dearest?”

The mortified guffaw that Alphinaud lets out is enough to bring a smug grin to her face again. Clearly, she still holds the upper hand over him.

Unfortunately, when she meets Estinien properly, he fails to meet any of her expectations.

Their first encounter goes utterly wrong, as he gives her the most obnoxious headpat to have graced the star, all with a deep tone that sends an awful shiver down her spine. Briefly, she even laments how odd his behavior is to herself. After all, Estinien had always been described as rather standoffish, and she doubts such actions would be appropriate to a stranger such as herself. That is, until he calls her by the wrong name.

… To say that her blood boils is a severe understatement.

So no one should blame her when she turns away and refuses to speak to Estinien when Alphinaud finally arrives. Which… good. She should find it most pleasurable when Alphinaud lashes out and finds that mixup to be just as offensive too. Mature as he may be, she knows he still hates it when they get mistaken for one another.

Except when Estinien sheepishly explains himself, all Alphinaud does is laugh . In fact, it can almost even be described as a stifled giggle, his eyes shining with mirth as he never moves his gaze from the other, clearly reveling in Estinien’s company.

Oh Thaliak, preserve her before she gouges out his eyes herself-

“Careful Alisaie. Keep glaring like that, and that crease on your forehead will soon become a permanent fixture,” the Warrior teases her, snapping her out of her murderous musings. “Disappointed you can’t keep Alphinaud to yourself forever?”

“Please. I should be glad to get him off of my hands,” she stubbornly retorts back, before Estinien addresses the group as a whole, and the conversation moves on. 

And yet, the Warrior’s comment lingers in the back of her mind, even as outlandish as it sounds. Sure, he holds Estinien at a higher regard than most and seems to revel in his company. Meanwhile, she can reluctantly admit that Estinien clearly holds some fondness for him too, indulging him at times. But it should remain just that. Alphinaud’s only running the high of seeing him again after so long. His infatuation should settle in time.

However, something shifts when Krile insists on Estinien to join the Scions. Because out of the rest of them present, Estinien addresses Alphinaud directly in his response. His words are uncharacteristically sweet, generous with his compliments and esteem. 

And well, she’s not going to oppose him or anything. Estinien’s right. Alphinaud is a guiding force that’s needed in their star. A boy who sees the world how he dreams it can be, and aspires to make it happen. Her brother is an inspiration, and even among tragedy and loss, he still bears them willingly and looks forward. Such qualities are worth fighting for. And as Estinien claims, after all he’s done, and what he’s shown him? How could he possibly refuse?

In Alisaie’s part, for once she wholeheartedly agrees with him. She even notices the tiniest of smiles from Estinien upon Alphinaud’s quiet surprise, likely because he hadn’t expected his praise. So when Estinien turns to formally accept Krile’s invitation, she’s about to make a small quip at Alphinaud’s speechless state, but stops because…

She sees it. It’s small, and she almost misses it, but it’s there.

Blue eyes widening a smidge, before softening in kind. An expression that screams of unrelenting trust and adoration, with a muted flush that’s settled on his cheeks as the corner of his lips curls. Truthfully, it makes him look oddly vulnerable, so open with his body language, yet so at ease too that she almost feels she’s witnessing something she shouldn’t. And to top it off, not once does he look away from Estinien, for any traces of his own personal doubts have all been nullified in place of…

Oh, she realizes as she finally looks away. This isn’t just a passing infatuation.

Her brother is in love.

Perhaps, when Alisaie considers matters deeply, she may be slightly, very slightly, just a tad (miniscule, really!) jealous of Estinien.

It’s not a sentiment that she’s able to admit easily. In fact, the moment she comes to terms with it after a long night of unrest, she has to resist the urge to scream in horror. Because her, Alisaie Leveilleur? Jealous of that nonsensical and insensitive buffoon ? Yea, right.

But it also adds up. Because Alphinaud is still her brother, for all of their bickering and arguments. A brother who can be condescending, a boy with ideals too big for one person to hold, prim and proper alongside his obnoxious flowery rhetoric, but…

A brother who is still her other half. And she’d be too remiss to lose her spot of importance in his life.

After all, lovesickness is not an expression that suits him well. It makes him look too vulnerable, too distracted from his usual sharp mind, but it is one that he wears nonetheless upon the presence of the elder Elezen.

So of course, at the very least upon the Leveilleur name, if Alphinaud is going to be a piss poor judge of character, then Alisaie will have to assess Estinien for him. Thoroughly, of course. She needs to make sure that he suits him after all. A common misconception is that her brother is the more observant one between the two of them, as insightful as he is. But she can be just as observant too, especially when it comes to matters of the heart.

But frankly, each time she gauges Estinien, she finds herself more and more unimpressed. He’s still as stoic and insensitive as ever. He’s physically strong, yes, but he has nothing else to back it up. In fact, when she asks the Warrior how their journey to Thavnir went, the Warrior only gives her a sheepish smile, making mention of Estinien’s poor spending habits.

Great. Not only is Estinien dull, but he’s brainless too. Who else is stupid enough to spend that much on a hair tie?

She ignores how long Alphinaud stares at the back of his neck when he’s turned away though, frozen stiff. At least, before he pivots away with a distracted cough to meet her own gaze. All she has to do is raise an apathetic brow before she’s met with a flush of his own.

Whatever, she thinks, when discussion among the Scions shifts towards their upcoming raid on the Tower of Zot. There’s more important matters to tend to, with more lives to save. She’ll mull over this another time.

Somehow, it isn’t until she’s within the cold expanse of Garlemald that the topic crosses her mind once more. 

She’s cold. Unbearably so, still pressed against Alphinaud’s side as her head rests on his shoulder. Yet for as frozen as she is, with the uncomfortable sensation of the shock collar wrapped around her throat stifling her breath, she can’t help but feel grateful that at the very least, her brother is here to share this burden with her.

Have faith, she reminds herself. She trusts the Warrior. She trusts her comrades. They’ll come for them, even as her eyes gently flitter close from exhaustion.

“Stay awake, Alisaie,” Alphinaud gently reminds her, jostling his shoulder purposefully. His trembling hand reaches over to squeeze her’s, a paltry attempt to share his warmth. “You can’t fall asleep here. Not until we’re certain reinforcements have arrived.”

Right. No sleeping. Even if it’s all that she wants here, just to escape this biting chill.

So she sits and she waits. He rambles as she settles - it’s what he does best, pretty words spinning tales of their shared hopes and ideals. A dreamer, is what he is, as she expresses her admiration and gratitude in return. And when she hears his words falter, fatigue wearing him down, she picks right up after him, making it her own responsibility to keep him awake as well.

She’s not sure how long they sit there, huddled together in the cold. His head rests on her shoulder this time, both of them having lapsed off into a steady silence. The only way she knows he’s still awake is his hand that squeezes her own. Waiting, and waiting, until…

The sound of a body collapsing echoes from behind the closed door of their prison. Alarmed, the both of them lift their heads to see the commotion, watching as the door opens, and-

Estinien stands at the doorway, his lance in hand before he sheathes it. He steps over the guard that lies unconscious carefully.

“Good. You’re both unharmed,” he curtly says. “From what has been reported, everything has gone smoothly. It would be best to return to Camp Broken Glass as quickly as possible.”

He’s frustratingly straightforward as always, even if she’s reluctantly relieved to see him. But as soon as the dragoon speaks, he suddenly stops, eyes narrowing as he scrutinizes them both. 

She’s about to tell him that he’s wasting precious time, but eventually, Estiinien kneels before Alphinaud. He rests a large hand gently onto his shoulder, his thumb creasing against the collar still latched onto the younger’s neck. And as Alphinaud’s breath hitches from the sensation, Estinien exhales sharply.

“... Who did this to you?” he asks darkly.

A stupid question to ask, considering the obvious answer. Yet, when she nearly spits out a retort, Alphinaud lets go of her hand to remove Estinien’s from his shoulder. He shakes his head.

“I fear telling you would make no difference. However, I appreciate your concern nonetheless,” he appeases, before smiling weakly. “I’m… I’m just glad you’re here.”

She doesn’t miss how Alphinaud keeps his hand in his, a sweet caress as he unconsciously twines their fingers together. She also doesn’t miss how Estinien lets him, the furrow in his brow relaxing a smidge even with how typically stoic he is.

And simply put, Alisaie has a pair of eyes. She can see the obvious. Because she observes, she blinks, and… oh. Ah.

Perhaps such affections aren’t as unreciprocated after all.

When the skies turn red over Thavnir, Alisaie is finally forced to reconsider Estinien’s place in Alphinaud’s life.

The Final Days are a force to be reckoned, and adrenaline still courses through her veins as the last group of beasts fall. Yet, as she falls to her knees, she’s still mourning the life that had been lost - a mother who had done everything she could to keep her child safe, only to have drowned terrified and alone. She only hopes that Matsya had made it back safely with the babe.

If he made it back safely. She’s terrified to know the answer until she feels a soothing sensation on the back of her shoulder, and she turns to see her brother kneeled beside her. Alphinaud has his hand outstretched, already at work patching her wounds even if he looks worse for wear himself. His sage garments are ruffled, his braid half falling apart, and there’s smudges of ash and dirt on his cheeks. She doesn’t doubt she looks dissimilar in her own state, but his brow is clearly furrowed in wordless concentration as he focuses his energy onto her first.

“... Oh. Thank you,” she mumbles quietly, not quite finding the energy to argue otherwise. 

He only nods tightly in acknowledgement, still focused on his spell. “Of course. It seems we have a moment of respite for the time being. ‘Tis best to take advantage of it,” he says, until he deems his efforts satisfactory and stops. “I fear this is the most I can properly do at the moment. Once we return, I must examine your wounds much more thoroughly. But for now…”

“For now, we should hurry and find Matsya,” she finishes for him, glad that even after everything, they’re still almost always on the same page. “If we’re quick enough, we should be able to seek him out easily. If not, I can only hope the both of them made it.”

Because if not, all of their efforts would have been for naught. She can barely even stomach that thought. Exhaling sharply, she gets up swiftly.

“Right. Let’s not waste time,” she says, before unsheathing her weapon once more. “I’m going to follow his trail, so I’d appreciate if you both could watch my back, if you-”

“Hold Alisaie,” the Warrior interrupts suddenly, causing her to freeze. However, when she whips around to vehemently protest, she’s met with the Warrior’s lifted hand that tells her to stop. Even though Alisaie’s anxious to get going now , she’s also learned to have faith in the Warrior’s instincts, as the other keeps a vigilant, concentrated stare up at the skies. At least, until her lips curl into a small grin, before placing her hand back down. 

“You can dispense your worries now,” she vaguely smiles instead. “I have a feeling Matsya will be just fine.”

Alisaie almost blaunches at the Warrior’s nonchalance, her words picking up speed. “Excuse me? Now’s not the time for such vague statements! What do you mean by that?”

“It means that Vrtra and I have already resolved the issue.”

And out from the underbrush, Estinien makes his appearance, walking towards them with his lance in hand. While his hair is rather windswept, he fortunately doesn’t look injured, as he carries no blood stains or bruises alike. However, Alisaie doesn’t even know how he got here - last she checked, he was keeping them all updated from his elevated perspective in the skies - but he must’ve come down at some point if he’s here now. She almost comments on such until she hears Alphinaud pipe up.

“Estinien!” he shouts, jogging towards him. “You’ve arrived. Thank the Twelve you’ve come unscathed. For a moment there, I was…”

Alphinaud’s words trail off. That is, until another beat when Estinien places a palm against his right jaw. His fingers rest under Alphinaud’s ear, and shortly, his thumb swipes against the plane of the younger’s cheek. It presses down, moving left to right, and left to right once more. And it’s a slow and deliberate motion too, not one done in haste, but with a certain careful tenderness.

“... Estinien?” Alphinaud repeats, this time in a quiet whisper that Alisaie can barely hear. He’s frozen stiff in place, lips parted a smidge as he stares at the other.

The moment his name is said, Estinien startles a bit, as though he’d just been snapped out of a stupor. Promptly, he shakes his head and removes his hand, before bracing it behind his own neck, almost as though he’s trying to find something to do with it.

“Apologies, I thought you were… I mistook the ash on your face for a wound, or a potential scar. I am glad that you are unscathed as well.” His words are uncharacteristically unsteady, and he coughs with his other hand while taking a purposeful step back. But eventually he regains his composure, as he soon addresses both the Warrior and Alisaie.

“Regardless, Matsya and the babe are unharmed and safe with Vrtra. Now, come. We shan’t keep them waiting long.” He turns his back away from them, facing the direction of the village. 

There’s a light pink color that tinges the tip of his ears, one that the Warrior certainly doesn’t miss either, judging by the small snort Alisaie hears. But the Warrior doesn’t point it out. Instead, she rolls her eyes quickly at Alisaie with a smug grin, before putting her own weapon away.

“Yes, quite so Estinien. And I’m sure Alphinaud much appreciates your astute observation. I certainly did,” the Warrior responds at last, clapping him on the back with a snicker. “But of course, I’d be remiss if I neglected to acknowledge your assistance. Both Matsya and the child owe it to you as the sole reason they continue to breathe now. So let’s not dally! Especially if they’re anxiously awaiting our return.”

The Warrior then practically skips ahead of Estinien, but stops a few fulms away. She then promptly hums. “With that all said and done, while we walk I’d be most glad to hear of your aerial reports from the skies. I don’t doubt you and Vrtra have seen much. Isn’t that so, Alphinaud?”

Clearly distracted, Alphinaud jerks his head up upon the mention of his name, before he manages to pull himself together again. “... Yes. Yes, of course. Pray, tell us in full detail as our friend asks.”

So, he quickens his pace to match the Warrior’s as they walk, with Estinien taking the middle to go over his report. And certainly, now would be the time for Alisaie to seamlessly input herself into the conversation. It would be useful for her to know this information as well. She does need to know.

Yet, she doesn’t, for once, purposefully taking the rear. Because she’s a bit too caught up on what she’d just witnessed, and now shifts her course to examine Estinien and Alphinaud now that the danger has passed. 

Perhaps the two of them can fool each other, but they can’t fool Alisaie. From her position, it’s obvious to see the lingering gazes when the other doesn’t notice, to see Alphinaud’s simmering smiles and Estinien’s more talkative demeanor. They clearly gravitate to each other, so conscious of the other’s actions that it’s rather sickening. Even in the midst of world-ending horrors, they’re still taking in little moments together, this tiresome dance they’ve likely had going on since their journey to Dravania.

But she also notices that they’re keeping to themselves, still professional and business-like when they address each other. Certainly, little mannerisms slip every now and then, but they soon catch themselves. It’d been like that in Sharlayan, and it is the case now - acting as comrades in arms. It’s likely the reason why nothing has truly happened yet, unaware of the other’s shared feelings, even for how evident it is to her.

Which… good. Alisaie certainly won’t find herself complaining of that. Estinien on his part should know his place, and Alphinaud could stand to stop looking so besotted. But at the very least, their priorities are in the right place, fighting for the safety of their star first and foremost.

So really, it should be no problem for Alisaie to drag Alphinaud off the moment they reach the village to assist her with the wounded. She ignores his comment on how it’d be more productive if they tended to them separately, considering her expertise on the matter too. But as always, he relents with a sigh, sheepishly waving his goodbyes to Estinien. The dragoon only casts a glance at Alisaie with a raised eyebrow, but lets her do as she pleases. 

It’s for Alphinaud’s own good, she justifies herself. Anything to get rid of that starry-eyed look of his. Anything to get him back on track. 

That’s all.

… Until she’s tired of seeing it. The wistful sighing, the longing stares, this blatant chemistry that keeps bubbling and bubbling and bubbling. In Garlemald, the two are perfectly in sync in battle, with Estinien guarding Alphinaud and Alphinaud shielding him from danger in return. Even in the aftermath once she settles her own indignation over Zenos’ impertinence, she notices Estinien lingering closer to Alphinaud among their father’s presence. There’s a fierce protectiveness to Estinien’s every action, one that she rather approves of, even if she’s loath to admit it. Thankfully, Alphinaud never notices.

It’s a rather conflicting feeling, this exasperation that continuously builds. Especially so when Alphinaud declines her invitation to the Noumenon for some last minute research before their departure to the edge of the universe.

“I’m afraid I’d already made some plans with Estinien beforehand, but do inform me if you come across anything of import before we set off,” Alphinaud had said then, an apologetic smile on his features.

She’d been about to curse Estinien’s name (because did he really need Alphinaud’s attention on what could arguably be their last day together?), but had stopped herself for Alphinaud’s sake. Instead, she had rolled her eyes, remarking that he’d be missing out as she left.

Which leads her to the present, as night falls and she enters the Leveilleur Estate, still lamenting on their annoying mutual pining. On one end, they should get together already, just to save her the misery. Alisaie doesn’t even disapprove of Estinien much anymore - if all else, he’s more comparable to a troublesome itch that won’t go away. Yet, she still can’t help but dislike the idea of it, even though she can’t put the outright reason to words. 

So which is it? Infuriating as he is, Estinien is… fine. Just fine. He’s strong-willed, focused, and capable enough. And frankly, her brother could do worse. So why is it that…

“Welcome back, Alisaie! I can’t say I expected you to return home so late.” Standing by the front entrance, her mother’s cheerful voice cuts off her musings. “Had you told me much sooner, I wouldn’t have stood in wait for you for so long. And if my memory serves me correctly, I know I taught you much better manners than that.”

Her mother’s words catch her off guard, causing her to jerk. “Had you really? I could’ve sworn I had said so,” Alisaie backpedals, a twinge of guilt washing over her. “I’m so sorry, Mother. I was reading but fell asleep until the Warrior woke me up. And by then it was…”

“Now, now, there’s no need to look so scandalized. T’was but a jest,” Mother laughs, assuaging her worries. “You already did have the courtesy of informing me beforehand, but I’d still like to have a spot of tea with you tonight. Consider it as a gesture of goodwill.”

She doesn’t even wait for Alisaie’s reply as she pivots on her heel, waving her hand as she heads up the stairs. “So come, let’s go! Our time is rather short.”

Alisaie begins to think that this was thoroughly planned on Ameliance’s end, considering her light-hearted nonchalance leaves no room for argument. Not that Alisaie minds though - she’d missed her mother dearly. So she follows her.

Eventually, Ameliance leads her into the general lounge room. There’s already a pot of steaming hot tea set on the coffee table, as well as two empty cups ready to be served. Sitting in the middle also lies a plate of snacks, all consisting of little sandwiches, fruits, and crackers. Yet, it’s not the food itself that causes Alisaie to raise a brow, but the fact that it already looks half empty.

“Oh dear me, I must’ve neglected to notify our attendants to replace our treats. And they complimented our tea so well too…” Ameliance mumbles to herself.

“Replace? I suspect you had accompanied some guests earlier then?” Alisaie asks, as she takes a seat on the couch. She reaches for her mother’s teacup, ready to pour her some tea first. An amused grin crosses her own features. “If you were that eager to host a celebration, Mother, I hope you understand one would be much more suitable upon our return rather than…”

“Ah, but this isn’t left over from a celebration, dear. I simply felt it appropriate for a more formal introduction to the man your brother clearly adores so much, and most fortunately, was Alphinaud kind enough to oblige,” Ameliance hums back, smoothing her dress. “In fact, he arranged the meeting himself! Which, I may say, was awfully sweet of him.”

Alisaie’s grip on her mother’s teacup falters, and it drops with a loud clatter on the saucer plate. Somehow, it doesn’t break. “Excuse me, who-” she stutters incoherently. “You met with Estinien ?”

“But of course!” Ameliance merrily replies, somehow taking Alisae’s blunder in stride. Or more accurately, she completely ignores it, taking the pot to pour the tea herself instead. “Your brother had made mention of him so many times in his penned accounts that I just had to see for myself.”

Alisaie almost makes a comment on how there really isn’t much to see, before Ameliance continues. “Now, he wasn’t exactly as described in his letters. Indeed, Ser Estinien came across as rather stiff, a touch awkward, and slightly dour, I’ll admit. But it also seemed to be born out of nervous tension if all else. Perhaps he didn’t want to make a poor impression, but once Alphinaud put him more at ease, he had much more to say. From what I gathered, he highly values your brother’s companionship, which thankfully, grants me much comfort.”

Now Alisaie is usually rather accustomed to her mother’s rambles, but she ends up glowering at the delicacies on the table instead. Because that’s what Alphinaud had been up to when he said they had ‘plans.’ hm? All without informing her, no less, deeming it much more important to have his so-called paramour meet their mother instead of…

Her shoulders sag, and her fists clench on her thighs. She focuses on them instead. “Mother, if I may ask…”

“Hm? Yes, dear?” 

Her mother’s words are patient, but not enough to soothe Alisae as she presses on. “What do you really think of Estinien? Do you think…” She blinks slowly. “Do you think he’s… good for him?”

Is he worthy? Is he truly deserving of her brother? Tell her that she isn’t just being unreasonable, that this vexation isn’t something that she’s making up in her head. Love is never easy, as wonderful as it can be, it can hurt and deceive too. It’ll distract him, make him unfocused and lead him astray. Surely, her mother sees this too. She has to, right?

Yet, when Alisaie meets her mother’s gaze, seated across from her on her loveseat, she only sees a soft, sympathetic smile. “Oh Alisaie, my sweet girl,” she says at last, seeing right through her. “This must be difficult for you, isn’t it?”

It’s not even phrased as a question, but as an assured statement instead. It causes Alisaie to tense up more, a simmering surge of emotion panging in her chest that she wills away. Stubbornly, she rubs at her eyes. “... I don’t know what you mean.”

“You forget that alongside Alphinaud’s letters, I’ve read yours as well,” Ameliance reminds her. “Countless tales of your travels that have both been so delightful and thrilling to read, but have also been full of such loss and pain. I surmise that few your age would have ever experienced what you have, and still find the courage within themselves to press on. And though I know you would be loathe to admit it, I’m certain that having your brother with you has contributed to that strength. But… even if Alphinaud has found his happiness in another, he’ll still remain by your side. He would never leave you alone. You do realize that, yes?”

Her eyes widen at the shift in topic, considering how this had gone from talking about Estinien to herself now. “That’s not… That’s not what this is about,” she helplessly argues back, desperately trying to recollect herself. “I have every reason and right for my misgivings! He’s terribly brusque and ill-mannered for one reason, as well as dull and frustratingly obtuse. A permanent scowl is always etched onto his features, and he broods constantly . In fact, I still haven’t quite forgiven him for permanently harming Alphinaud, a fact that I had to confront him myself after he was finished wistfully sighing over him. At some point, Alphinaud must reevaluate his priorities, because Estinien is nothing as he described.”

Her words tumble out in quick succession, so quickly until it’s impossible to stop. Maybe she had much more to say than expected after having it fester inside her for so long. Except, before she can share more of her qualms, Ameliance puts her hand up, softly interrupting her.

“Perhaps to you, that may be the case. But to your brother , that is quite another matter. T’was clear to me that while Ser Estinien was not keen on such formal pleasantries, he much more was willing to indulge Alphinaud, hence his reluctant agreement. Discomforted as he was, he was extremely conscious of Alphinaud's needs - gentle, patient and… endearingly soft. I know the look of a man who is in love, and his face is the same I saw from your father back in our days in the Studium. ‘Tis only natural your brother would then claim him as such - it’s the aspect of his that he sees most oft.”

Her tone soon becomes a smidge chiding. “I also know to expect better from you, Alisaie. You know very well not to withhold the faults of an individual from the past, but to look at their actions in the present. To maintain such spite is not like you.”

Alisaie winces, because that does sting. It’s even worse when she knows Ameliance is right, and she unfurls her fists, losing her defensive posture. “Yes, I… I know. I’ve seen it too,” she yields at last. “The way they act together is utterly nauseating . But I’m just…”

Afraid. She’s afraid, scared stiff at the prospect of being left behind. She doesn’t want that. She doesn’t . As pretentious and aggravating as Alphinaud can be, it’s just not an option that she wants. 

And above all else, she hates feeling like this, this stubborn, stinging resentment that she has towards Estinien for simply returning his affections. 

It’s so ironic - for so long, Alisaie had wanted to escape Alphinaud’s long, casting shadow. Yet, now she’s so desperate for him to stay, because stay , just for a bit longer. Don’t…

Her tea is still untouched on the coffee table, and Ameliance’s soon joins next to it. There’s the sound of ruffled clothing, and the couch next to Alisae dips. A hush falls between them, her mother simply giving her comfort silently by her mere presence alone.

“Alisaie, darling, I won’t say that your distress is unfounded. As much joy as your adventures bring me, I’m terrified of losing you and your brother everyday. A trepidation that has only increased tenfold knowing what you must do tomorrow,” Ameliance confesses quietly, voice faltering for once, and it dawns on Alisaie how difficult this must be for her mother as well. 

“No mother would ever willingly want such a thing. However, you and your brother are a… stubborn, inspirational lot, and your father and I have accepted that you’ve both grown into your own wonderful individuals. We can’t cling to you both forever. Yet, for as much as you both have grown, neither of you have loved us any less, am I correct?”

Slowly, Alisaie nods in agreement, and Ameliance continues. “As such, the same is most true with your brother. I do not doubt that one day, you and Alphinaud may go your separate ways. Perhaps you’ll find someone that you will hold just as dear. However, in doing so, that does not require you to lose Alphinaud either. You’ll always be his sister, as he your brother.”

“So while it hurts, while I won’t deny that I am utterly petrified for the both of you in your upcoming journey, I will also not voice my complaints. Because amongst the immense pride I feel for you both, above all else, I only wish for your combined happiness. A sentiment that I know you wish for Alphinaud as well.”

A surge of affection and gratitude washes over Alisaie, her vision growing the slightest bit blurry as she rubs her eyes again. How her mother manages to read her so perfectly, and put everything into words so concisely is beyond her - she concludes it might just be a parental trait of her’s that she’s simply naturally gifted in. 

But eventually, Alisaie scoots in to hug her, and she feels like she’s transported in time, so safe in her mother’s arms. She can’t remember the last time she properly hugged her - perhaps it’d been when she first left Sharlayan all those years ago - but it feels just as comforting as she recalls. 

“I wanted so desperately to make you and Father proud too, so to hear you say that in words… Thank you, Mother,” she mumbles, still clinging to her. “And it’s not only Alphinaud’s happiness that I wish for, but yours as well.”

She’s met by her mother’s warm laughter, and a hand presses onto the top of her head. “Now now, if you’d like my continued happiness, then be sure to return home safely. I do not doubt your father will be among the many anxious awaiting your swift return too. I suspect an incredibly restless evening up ahead for us both,” Ameliance teases, before she lets go.

“However, onto more light-hearted matters… What is this that I hear of such nauseating behaviors? I daresay you must be quite maddened to deem their relationship as thus. Please, do not spare me any details.”

… Oh does Alisaie have much to say. 

“Mother, do you have any idea how often Alphinaud speaks of him?“ she grouses. “More than enough occasions. Too many if you ask me. Why, I was initially under the impression that he was speaking of a handsome, dashing knight of noble valor, only to realize he was simply influenced by rose-tinted lenses! ‘Oh Alisaie, I should want nothing more than to stand by his side for the rest of my days, if he should let me,’” she mocks in her best imitation of her brother’s obnoxious affectation. “Why, Alphinaud, you forget that he likely already would if you would simply grow a spine and confess such already!” She returns to her own voice for the retort she wishes she could give, if Alphinaud would even be honest with her about his feelings.

“And do not get me started on Estinien either. He assumes he’s sooo indifferent with his crossed arms and surly scowls.” Aliaise demonstrates with her own body, narrowing her eyes and twisting her mouth. "But he is not subtle in the least. You should see him when Alphinaud’s within his vicinity - his eyes follow him wheresoever he goes. And even in battle, he tracks him like he’s his personal shadow, no doubt positively fretting over him. In fact in Garlemald, I’m almost certain he shared some words with Father, because when we all returned to the camp, Father was keeping a suspiciously wide berth from him. Not that it stopped Estinien from scowling in his direction either. And the only time it settled was when Alphinaud approached to assess his wounds. I suspect he didn’t even have any, he likely just wanted Alphinaud’s attention.” She spits the last sentence out like a particularly sour piece of fruit.

“It’s all just so glaringly obvious, so it’s even more insulting when both of them refuse to say anything. If only they would just get over it already.”

Truly, as Ameliance had asked, Alisaie does not spare a single detail. Perhaps even more than she’d initially expected. Then again, it’s not as though she’s been able to share these frustrations so freely before. So now that the opportunity arises, of course she takes it. Ameliance, if all else, is an attentive listener too, nodding and laughing at every bout of frustration Alisaie expresses. At least someone’s amused.

Except at Alisaie’s last statement, a furrow casts on Ameliance’s brow, and she tilts her head in confusion. She presses her lips thinly. “If I am understanding you correctly, then do you mean the two of them are… not in a relationship?”

Alisaie nods. She then sees her mother’s sheer disappointment develop right before her eyes. Yes, now she gets it!

“I was under the impression your brother was introducing me to his partner, not just a mere friend,” Ameliance pouts. “Why else would he have insisted on it so much? Had I known-”

“Don’t take it personally, Mother. You would not even be the first,” Alisaie groans, just about ready to go onto another rant. “Now you realize that they’re a pair of hopeless morons who likely will never find the emotional maturity to communicate their shared feelings until they grow old and…”

Die, she almost says, before she freezes. 

Now under usual cases, such a phrase would never be taken in a literal sense, but the reality of their situation suddenly hits her again. She’s spending what could possibly be her last moment with her mother. Alphinaud had understood that assignment for his insistence of taking Estinien to the estate. 

Because of course he’d know that second chances never come twice. All of them have the possibility of dying tomorrow. So if anything were to happen, it’d have to happen now .

But she knows her brother, her brother who is just as stubborn as her. For while she has no doubt he has expressed part of his feelings already, knowing this may be the last given what lies ahead, it’s likely that he’s not told Estinien all of it. She’d presume it’d be to not further burden Estinien, or some other paltry excuse. And Estinien, who she knows has the emotional capacity of a teaspoon, is more likely to shrivel away instead of being honest himself, which leaves Alphinaud on his own.

Promptly, Alisaie stands up before she even notices, even as Ameliance remains seated to look up at her. “I need to speak to Estinien. If anything is to be done, then I can’t waste time,” she blurts out, before she stops, guilt washing over her. “I do apologize for cutting this short, Mother. I haven’t even taken a sip, and our tea has likely gone cold…”

“Consider joining me for another spot of tea in the future, and I’ll be more than satisfied enough.” Fortunately, Ameliance doesn’t take it personally at all, her voice still filled with mirth. “But do be sure to keep me well-updated of your interrogation to Ser Estinien, or you’ll otherwise be pressed for more details another day. Sooner, rather than later.” 

Her mother is the same as always, as Alisaie stifles a giggle. “I’ll certainly take that into account. Thank you, Mother,” she waves, before hastily leaving.

She has a former Azure Dragoon to find.

Much to her chagrin, finding Estinien is much easier said than done.

By this point, the evening sun had already long set, replaced by a blanket of stars stretching in the night sky as she’d spent nearly an hour surveying the markets and urban estates to no avail. She clicks her tongue in annoyance, hands on her hips as she stands by the Archon’s Design, having looped around the city once already. Because of course now that she’s actually looking for Estinien, he decides to make himself scarce.

So it’s even more aggravating when she finally spots him barely hidden from sight, just… crouched atop of a roof. He’s armorless, dressed down to more casual garments, and there’s no weapon in sight, but still carrying that same steely expression. She supposes she should’ve known to look there from the start - dragoons are rather notorious for their propensity of heights. Had she figured otherwise, she would’ve saved herself a lot of time.

She can still be mad about it though, as she stomps towards the building Estinien is perched upon. Except, as she gets closer, she realizes that he’s neither brooding atop the roof, nor watching the world pass by as she initially suspects. No, he’s looking right at the Baldesian Annex, seemingly lost in thought, specifically the upper floors where the sleeping quarters are and…

There’s a specific room where even if the windows are closed, the lights still remain on. And from the distance where she’s at, she spots Alphinaud’s moving silhouette, before it disappears from her field of vision. Her brother, who is none the wiser that Estinien is right there.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

She coughs harshly to catch his attention. “Ahem! Yes, I’m speaking to you, Ser,” she demands, emphasizing his title obnoxiously. “If you have enough time to observe my brother inside his own private quarters in such a disturbing fashion, then you’ll certainly have enough time to discuss some important matters with me now.”

Her sharp words are enough to jerk Estinien from whatever reverie he’s stuck in, as he squints back down at her. “Must you phrase it in such a manner, girl? I’m keeping watch.”

“And do you think I’m so gullible? You’re not fooling anyone, let alone myself,” Alisaie counters, crossing her arms now. She’s so utterly unimpressed. “Walk with me. Or I should be so inclined as to tell him myself.”

She doesn’t even bother listening for a response as she turns on the heel of her foot and begins to walk away. For a moment, she even thinks he ignores her, until she hears a harsh clatter of his jump and the click of his boots trailing behind her.

Good. So he does know his place.

Eventually, she leads him to the harbor, stopping underneath a lamp post. Thankfully, there’s not a lot of people here, likely because of how late it is. She doubts anyone will bat an eye for a shared conversation here, as Estinien halts too.

“This should do,” she says at last, before she turns around, her arms still crossed. “So? I’m still waiting for a more proper response. At the very least, I should expect honesty from you.”

Estinien sighs, already tired. “It really isn’t so difficult to understand. I was keeping watch, but undoubtedly, you know how the boy is. He would sooner spend the majority of his night fretting and pouring over books in preparation for what is to come, rather than getting the proper rest he needs. I simply wanted to confirm he does not stay up researching like I suspect he will. A gesture I’m sure you would appreciate.”

… Ugh, she hates that he’s right, torn between feeling grateful he’d considered Alphinaud’s wellbeing so thoughtfully, and petty that she hadn’t thought to do that herself in the first place. 

“I do. Appreciate it, that is,” she forces out, looking away. “Though I advise that for future reference, it would be best if you visited him yourself in person. After all, even with good intent, observing him like so is a terrible invasion of his privacy.”

Estinien winces. “No, you’re very much correct. I would prefer not to disrespect him in such a manner,” he agrees, thankfully making no protest. “Initially I’d been patrolling the city for no particular reason. I find that my restless mind has made it difficult to settle down properly, and traveling by rooftop grants a much better perspective than on solid land. I’d only arrived there last and gotten… properly caught up in my thoughts once more.”

Alright, his response is… acceptable enough. That at least makes her feel a little better. She uncrosses her arms, voice hesitant now. “... How is he? My brother, that is.”

“His shoulders were tense as he was cleaning his nouliths. But thankfully, he was preparing for bed the moment you arrived, no doubt having completed all he needed to do.” A faint, quick smile passes over his features before it fades.

“Good. Had he not, I would be more inclined to pay him a visit now myself,” she nods, also noticing that quirk at the corner of his lips. She pieces it together easily enough. Even now, Alphinaud is still in his thoughts. “... And you yourself?”

“What of myself?”

“Have you made all the preparations you’ve wanted to finish?” she emphasizes at last, looking pointedly at him. “It’s not as though we have the luxury of time on our side anymore.”

A shadow crosses his general expression, and he inhales deeply, all with just a moment of hesitation. “Aye, I have. My lance is ready, and I’ve written my last testaments should they be a necessity. Not that I believe it to be so,” he muses. “It’s rather a shame though. I would’ve liked to enjoy some dried squid if the Last Stand had more palatable options.”

The next few sentences he spouts have something to do with the local cuisine he had tried back in Kugane, something about his options broadening in comparison to Ishgardian foods. But Alisae finds herself spacing out, too busy tapping her foot in increasing impatience for him to get more specific already.

Fortunately, her petulant behavior is rewarded soon enough, as Estinien eventually stops, finally becoming self-aware. He sighs again. “Alright, girl. Spit it out. If you have something to say, then say it.”

Annnnd, an opening! As soon as she’s given the opportunity, she takes it, straightening her posture. “I was speaking to Mother earlier. We had a quick spot of tea,” she starts, raising a brow. “... Or at least, we would have, had she not made it known to me that you and my brother had stopped by beforehand.”

Estinien’s eyebrows raise in recognition, and his lips press thinly together. “So you’ve heard. I… I had not known if it was an arrangement that was appropriate for me to attend. I’m not a person made for lavish formalities and the like. Yet, Alphinaud had been pressingly insistent, so…” His voice trails. “It was… not bad. Perhaps stifling and contrived initially, but your mother was a gracious host. And Alphinaud was… I’m quite certain he missed her presence as well. I am only grateful to have been trusted with another part of himself that he holds dear.”

His pauses make it clear that he’s choosing his words carefully to her, but it makes no difference with how clear his voice drips with doting affection by the end. He probably doesn’t even realize it, what with the bemused smile that threatens to break out once more. 

So really, Alisaie is not fooled, and she continues to press. “I suppose that’s all well and good. It’s not utterly unpleasant that you hold him in such regard. But you do realize the implications, correct?” 

He frowns. “I won’t know unless you make it apparent with me. Speak directly, Alisaie.”

“Don’t be coy with me. Surely you cannot be this dense!” she groans, throwing one of her hands. “A son introducing a close comrade to his mother in such a formal setting alone, especially so as a first official meeting.” She faces him fully, her hands on her hips. “Estinien, my mother was under the impression that Alphinaud was introducing her to his partner, which was you . That is the implication I speak of.”

Maybe she says it too harshly, because for a while Estinien only stares at her, gobsmacked. She’d be smug about it having rendered him so speechless for once too, especially upon seeing the tip of his ears glow a light red under the lamp post light, until he sharply exhales. He covers his face with a single hand, and his shoulders slump, almost… defeated.

“I should’ve known,” she hears him mumble quietly to himself, before he lifts his head to regather his composure. He runs a hand through his hair, mussing up his ponytail more. “I do not have any ulterior motives concerning your brother, if that puts you at ease. And even if he was oblivious, I had at least… understood the potential misunderstanding that could’ve occurred.”

“That being said, however… fond as I am of the boy, I have no plans to make it known to him,” he finishes, the crease of his brow deepening. “Especially not now. Nay, it likely would not occur in the foreseeable future.”

“Then when will it be? You cannot expect to twiddle your thumbs and have him wait for you to be ready,” she retorts. “Need I even mention once more that we’ll be setting off tomorrow, and that there may not even be a future you speak of?”

“Do you not harbor confidence in our success?” he challenges.

“No, but I do believe you’re making excuses,” Alisaie returns. In fact, his logic is rather odd to her. She assumed he was the type of person who knew what he wanted, who took action and initiative. Yet, he’s not doing so now. In fact, seeing him look so dejected is entirely too uncanny for her.

So she places her hands down, perplexed, but still not giving up. “I know you’re not so obtuse. My brother feels similarly. It’s probably his worst kept secret because he makes it laughably obvious. But you … You’re the one who’s exercising restraint. So if it’s not the fear of rejection that’s holding you back, then what is it?”

A hushed, almost uncomfortable silence falls upon them, as the waves continue to crash against the harbor wall. The sea breeze sends a shiver down her spine, her hands automatically raising to hug her arms. But she knows what she said has dug into his skin, unrelenting and not letting go. So even when Estinien tears his gaze from her, casting it towards the ocean instead, she doesn’t leave. Not when she’s so close to getting an answer from him.

“I owe your brother my life. Had he not been so stubborn and idealistic, I would have died that day under Nidhogg’s thrall. No words can describe the debt of gratitude I must give him,” he murmurs. “He’s as courageous as he is bright, so steadfast with his ideals and inspirational. He will never stop believing the world can be better than it is, and he’ll be the driving force to spearhead that change years to come. I know it.”

Alisaie silently nods, puzzled at where he’s going about this. As he speaks, Estinien moves away from the lamp post, walking towards a bench on the harbor that faces the sea. From there, he sits down, leaning his elbows against his thighs, as his voice darkens. “That being said…”

“You must remember the circumstances of how I first met him, following the tragedy of that banquet of yours. Coping with the supposed loss of a majority of the Scions, being falsely framed for regicide, all done so by the consequences of his hubris - Alphinaud was in a vulnerable position, and in desperate need for connection. I do not doubt his affection and respect for me is still largely impacted by such.”

“What he saw in myself then, that I cannot fathom. Blinded was I by hatred and vengeance, duty-bound to my mission as the Azure Dragoon. I was not as courteous or compassionate as he makes myself out to be, thinking him little more than another bothersome lordling of who could do naught,” he continues. “I… I hurt him irrevocably back then. Wounds that cannot be repaired, simply because I let Nidhogg consume me and he insisted on saving the life of a man who was scarcely worth the cost.”

She blinks, still unmoving from where she stands. Huh, that’s some added insight, knowing that Estinien also laments over those stains too. And when Estinien falls quiet, struggling with his words, she takes a hesitant step forward. “And, your point is…?”

“Is that your brother is too generous for his own good,” he huffs. “And that he should not waste his affections on myself, lest he come to regret it. He’s… still young. There is so much more in store for him, so much more potential left to grow into. He deserves to meet someone who can match his wit and intellect. If all else, I will be satisfied enough to act as his protector. He… he deserves nothing less.”

… Oh. Well, then. She thinks she gets it now. It dawns on her that similar to her, Estinien has had his own misgivings for himself too.

So she finally moves away from the light she stands under, making her way towards the bench too, seating herself at the other end. There’s a large gap between them, as she’s careful to not make eye contact, just casting her own gaze towards the sea. Another silence falls between them, this time not as uncomfortable, but the air of resignation that looms around Estinien is prevalent. She swings her legs to keep herself busy, letting out a small hum as she gathers her thoughts. 

“I… suppose I can see your reasoning. However, do you not trust his judgment either?” she blurts out, and before she knows it, she’s rambling. “It isn’t your right to decide what is best for him. If you truly respect him as you claim, you should give his choice in this matter the same faith that you would as his decisions on the battlefield.”

By this point, Estinien only lifts his head, not responding. She swallows, but she doesn’t stop. 

“When we first met, I was not keen on you. You were brusque and dismissive, and I could not associate you with the person my brother was so enamored with. Yet besides that, I couldn’t quite place my reason as to why I felt that way. In hindsight now… I understand that it was my own petty jealousy that caused me to react with such disdain.”

Slowly, Estinien opens his mouth to respond, but she quickly puts her finger up, placing it back down to find her words again. Her gaze lifts to the skies, leaning back from the bench. “And if you think he’s too good, as though he’s untouchable, I can most assure you that he’s not. Throughout our travels in Eorzea, within distant stars, he’s faced countless adversities. To think of him as an untested youth would undermine his strength and conviction. He’s one of the strongest people that I know,” she whispers at last. “And… I do believe you’re good for him, all in ways I never would have fathomed. You keep him grounded, and treat him not as an idealized figure or savior, but as himself. You help share his burdens, yet challenge him to be his best as well, and for that I am grateful.”

She swallows, her voice cracking a smidge. “I… I love him. I truly, truly do. I can’t imagine a life without him, and as insufferable and pretentious as he can be, I want him to be happy and loved. To which, I can’t deny the truth - when he’s with you, he’s the happiest I’ve ever seen. He glows when he’s under your presence, with such adoration and affection that it’s almost overwhelming.”

Finally, she turns her head to make direct eye contact with him. “So I will never forgive you if you deny him that love, because if it’s your love that he wants and it’s not unrequited, then you must take some responsibility. Talk to him. Please. Before neither of you have the chance to do so any longer.”

Really, Alisaie isn’t quite sure if she’s managed to convey all of her thoughts concisely, but judging from how intense Estinien’s features are, thoughtful and wondering, just wondering, she thinks she may have been successful. But before he has the opportunity to speak, a voice echoes from a ways behind them.

“Estinien?”

Speak of his name, and it seems as though he shall appear. Because she’d recognize Alphinaud from anywhere, as she twists her body to see him, and well… she raises a brow.

Because Alphinaud is dressed down, without his usual robes or weapons or anything of the like. In fact, it looks like his clothes have been hastily tossed on in a rush, as her brother is breathing heavily. She wonders if he’d run here, and judging by the sweat that’s already accumulated by his temple, she’s probably right. 

How amusing, judging from Estinien’s previous claim of the other heading to bed soon. Perhaps Alphinaud had changed his mind.

Upon the realization of Alisaie’s presence, Alphinaud blinks, distracted. “Oh, Alisaie, you as well? Actually, forgive me, I, um…” His voice stutters, breathless in between pants. “Estinien, I… I know I bid you goodnight already, but… may I speak with you? In private? There’s something…” 

He straightens his back, resolved. “There’s something I must confess.”

… Trust Alphinaud to throw a wretch in all of her plans, hm? It’s impossible to smother the smile that threatens to make its way on her face, and judging from the sharp inhale from Estinien’s direction, she’s not the only one who’s surprised. So she brushes down the crinkles in her shorts, standing up.

“With that, I shall leave you both to it. Consider my words carefully,” she whispers to the dragoon, before sauntering towards Alphinaud. When he is within reach, she wraps him in a tight hug, making sure to take her time.

For his part, Alphinaud freezes temporarily, his arms lifted in an awkward fashion, before he slowly hugs her back. It’s a comforting embrace, as he rubs a hand against her back soothingly. “And dare I ask what this is about?” he teases gently.

“I just felt like it,” she murmurs, letting the moment sink in before she lets go. She soon fixes his tunic, straightening it up. “But do remember to bring an overcoat the next time you decide to rush out of your quarters so late at night. It would not do you well to catch a cold now,” she jabs back with a bemused grin, patting his shoulder once.

Before Alphinaud can protest though, she turns him towards where Estinien sits, and gives him a small push. “Come now! Get going. You didn’t rush all this way to see me , obviously.” She stifles her smirk before whispering quietly. “You have naught to fear. I wish you the best.”

With that, she begins to walk away just to leave them alone. For whatever reason, it feels like a huge burden had just been lifted from her shoulders. Faintly, she can still hear their voices too, so she does turn her head right before she rounds the corner, mainly to double check if it really will go well or not.

From a short distance, Alphinaud has already seated himself on the bench next to Estinien. He’s saying something, no doubt some sort of greeting or apology as he waves his surprisingly gloveless hands - at least until Estinien reaches out to grab them. Slowly, he curls his fingers around his wrist, turning his hands over to view the dark, untreated burns that still rest on them. Estinien frowns.

“Your hands. They’re…”

“Bare? So they are. In my haste to look for you, it completely slipped from my mind,” Alphinaud sheepishly replies, yet he still does not remove his hands from Estinien’s gentle hold. “I… understand that they are unsightly to look at, and I apologize. You probably do not want to see them yourself.”

“Nay, ‘tis not because of disgust that I pointed them out,” Estinien replies, still frowning as continues to study them. “I… I simply wish there was aught I could do to ease your pain from bearing these wounds. Wounds that you have received because of myself.”

Temporarily, Alphinaud freezes in place, and for a moment, Alisaie wonders if he’s going to apologize again. Except, a smile blooms on his features, and he removes one of his hands to lift Estinien’s chin, before it delicately caresses his cheek.  “Well, I suppose I understand your sentiment. However, the sheer fact that you remain with me now is more than enough.” He strokes his thumb under Estinien’s eye. “... Come what may, any wound or scar that I bear for you is well worth your life. That, I will always promise.”

His words are sweet, yet also carry so much certainty. Sometimes, it’s hard to compare the Alphinaud who had left with her to Eorzea so long ago, to the Alphinaud she sees now. Perhaps Estinien can see that difference too, as he spends a long silence lost in Alphinaud’s gaze, both of his hands still grasping one of Alphinaud’s between their laps. Alisaie hears an amused huff from him afterwards, the corner of his mouth curling ever so slightly.

“Then I shall endeavor to spend the rest of my days making my amends. To serve you, my lord, would be nothing but a privilege,” Estinien finally remarks back, and never removing his eyes from Alphinaud, he slowly lifts his hand to press a kiss on one of his palms. The kiss lingers too, lips tracing against mottled scars with such reverence that Alisaie has to resist the urge to look away.

Alphinaud doesn’t seem to fare much better, a red flush having spread from his cheeks to the tip of his ears. Regardless, he doesn’t shy away, as a bashful pout makes its way on his face. “Flattery does not suit you well, Ser Estinien. And I would also have you dispense such formalities. Was it not you who demanded such from the start?”

A small chuckle as he presses another kiss to his other palm. “Aye, aye, it was. But I can assure you, what I claim is nothing short of the truth. Though I will leave it up to your own interpretation,” he teases. “Now what was it that you wanted to confess? I daresay there may be some matters I must share myself.”

From observing such an intimate act, Alisaie registers a succinct fact that had escaped her notice until now, and it’s that while Estinien usually approaches everything with rough, quietly controlled concentration - from how he fights, to how he speaks and moves - it certainly isn’t how he loves. A love that’s so tender and in hindsight, so obvious when in relation with her brother - a relationship that has since blossomed into something so beautifully poetic that she’d almost be envious herself if not for the chagrined amusement that washes over her.

Whatever response Alphinaud comes up with though, she eventually turns away from her corner, her footsteps light as she goes. Humming under her breath, she glances back up at the night sky, leaving the two to their privacy.

She thinks they’ll be just fine.

And on the next day, when she spots them clasping hands as they’re about to traverse to the edge of the universe, she smiles.