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“You’re alone?” Estinien asks at the doorway, and when Sirius nods a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Good.” He looks at both ends of the hallway as if scouting and Sirius tilts his head in confusion. “...Are you looking for something?”
“The twins thought now would be a wonderful time to pay a visit to my chambers,” Estinien explains. “Rather than listen to them bicker over tonight’s snacks and tomorrow’s plans, I seized the opportunity to make my escape.” The image of Alisaie barging in with an armful of snacks makes Sirius laugh, even a little. He can imagine Alphinaud right behind her, ready to talk up a storm about Sharlayan and its history.
“Come in, then.” Sirius gestures toward his room and Estinien ponders for a few seconds before deciding. “I shouldn’t stay long. I don’t want to keep you from your rest.” But both he and Sirius know he’ll be up until the late hours of night anyway, so he enters the room without any further protest. He can see the signs of leftover company; there’s an abundance of tea cakes and scones on the table, four tea cups rather than one. Despite it all, Sirius keeps his room very neat, even if they’re staying in Sharlayan for a few more days. His lance is tucked away in the corner, along with his satchel of belongings.
Estinien takes a seat at the table and exhales deeply, the tension melting from his shoulders. He waits for Sirius to finish pouring his cup of tea before speaking. “It can be all a bit… exhausting at times, can’t it?”
Sirius nods with a smile that has seen better days on their face. “It can. I often wonder when it will be all over,” he responds. “When we can walk through the world without its end looming on the horizon.” He wraps both hands around his cup, steam rising to his face. “But I want to keep fighting. To carry on the wishes of those we have lost, and to fulfill those still with us.” For Minfilia, Moenbryda, and everyone else he’s come to love and cherish the last few years.
Estinien sets his cup down and crosses his arms. “You know… I wasn’t sure what to make of you during the Dragonsong War,” he says and Sirius’s breath hitches in his throat. He hadn’t been the kindest during those days, and he still looks back on them with shame. It was one of the darkest moments of his life; he still remembers all the bloodshed of dragons and humans alike, the lives lost to them. Ysayle, who always held hope in her heart for a brighter future. Haurchefant, who pulled Sirius out of the dark more times than he could count.
“But as we traveled together, I came to learn more about you,” Estinien continues, voice turning gentler. “How quick you are to take up a cause not your own, how willingly you put your life on the line for your companions.” And never would he forget how Sirius stayed those few days after being freed from Nidhogg, keeping his injuries healed and mended around the clock. How he’d kept him company and told him all kinds of stories, from his family to his days in Othard. “Now that we’re fighting together again… I can see that you haven’t changed at all.”
Yes, despite it all, Sirius still carried the selfsame kindness and compassion wherever he went.
“Truth be told, I do not understand all the talk about primals and the ancients,” Estinien confesses. “And perhaps I never will. But know this: no matter what, I trust in your judgement and choose to believe in your cause.” Sirius knows what has to be done, and the Twelve be damned if Estinien is not there to witness it with them. “You and Alphinaud have my lance. Now and always. So never be afraid to call on me.”
The words fill Sirius with warmth and he keeps them close to his heart. “Thank you,” he says, trying to still the racing beat of his heart. “It means more than you know.” He finishes the last drops of tea in his cup, idly staring into the porcelain. Then he looks up at Estinien and sees gray eyes staring into his, and suddenly the room feels very, very hot. “I- I’m going to step outside for a bit, if you don’t mind,” Sirius stutters and he realizes how stupid he sounds; leaving his guest alone at the table. “I need a breather....”
“Let me join you,” Estinien offers, and for the millionth time Sirius feels his heart freeze. “It is a bit stuffy in here, isn’t it?” Yes, it is, but not for the reasons you think.
Nighttime in Sharlayan is pleasant as always, the cool sea breeze blowing into the town. Only after leaving the room does Sirius realize how stifling the air actually is in there. He could do with cracking open the window here and then. Then he thinks about Estinien paying him a visit on the balcony ledge, leaping into the air with such ease and agility he could never hope to achieve. He reminisces on a warm mug in his hands, full of the hot chocolate he’d brought him a few nights prior, that slight yet sincere smile on his lips--
But perhaps wishing for such a thing to happen again is selfish. After all, he knows not where Estinien’s heart lies. If it even lies with anyone. Even so Sirius clings onto hope– a razor-thin shred of hope– and opens his mouth without thinking.
“I always waited,” he breaks their comfortable silence, daring to look into the dragoon’s eyes. “I always waited for you. Since the day I departed for Ala Mhigo, and you left for the battlefields of the Empire.” And then the brief meetings in between: their encounter at Ghimlyt Dark, the few minutes they could spare at the Rising Stones before returning to their respective wars. “And now that you’re here… I’d rather not have to say goodbye again.” Sirius can feel his face reddening after those words leave his mouth.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be the one to decide what you do and where you go,” Sirius adds quietly, throat turning dry. “I just hope you’ll find some semblance of peace when this is all over.” Perhaps Estinien would go off the radar and find a place of his own. Sirius supposes he should do the same and visit Othard– but his stomach sinks at the thought of never seeing the man again.
“...No.” Estinien’s voice drops low. “The feeling is mutual. I… would rather not bid farewell anytime soon.” He tears his gaze from the sky to Sirius and his heart stops. He can make out every minuscule feature of his face; the rosy hue of his cheeks, the sea-green of his eyes that have seen all the horrors of war. Above all else his face reads as someone who has been lonely for too long. Someone deserving of the same love and affection they give others, but never themself.
Estinien brings a hand to Sirius’s face, slow and careful, waiting for any sign of discomfort or pulling back. But it never comes. He seems to almost lean into the touch rather than deny it, and his eyes flutter shut. Estinien runs a thumb across their cheek and he feels Sirius shudder beneath him– but they still voice no sign of protest.
“Tell me to stop and I will,” Estinien says quietly, moving his thumb across the Viera’s lips. “And I will forget any of this ever happened.” We will go back to being simply traveling companions, as we were two years ago.
Sirius weaves their fingers in between Estinien’s own. “...What if I don’t want you to?” he breathes, “Would you stay?” Would you stand by my side, despite everything?
“I think you already know my answer.” Estinien closes the distance between them, sliding a hand down Sirius’s waist. He presses his lips onto his without another word. The contact is warm and tender, and for a moment Estinien forgets how long he has wanted, craved such a thing. How badly he’d wanted to pull Sirius away from the war, to let him ease the burden of being Eorzea’s savior. But they seem to already understand the sentiment–- they wrap both arms around Estinien’s neck, letting him deepen the kiss.
The two of them pull away to catch their breath; they are but human beings, after all. “Two years,” Sirius whispers, looking at Estinien with all the love and adoration he’s harbored for so long. “I waited two years for that. And I was willing to wait even longer. I… I love you, Estinien.”
It’s just three words, a string the Elezen’s heard more times than he can count from the surrounding knights at Ishgard. But never, never have they been so genuinely and unconditionally directed at him. He cannot stop thinking about how Sirius has the experience and not him, how easily the words roll off his tongue.
Sirius almost wants to ask him to stay the night, but he knows Estinien would rather not have the Scions badgering him with questions about why he wasn’t in his room. Why he was with the Warrior of Light, of all people. So he lets him go, albeit reluctantly, still savoring the touch of his fingers on his hips. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Estinien nods, feeling a waves of exhaustion tide over him. “Get some rest.” He puts a foot atop the balcony railing, but he does not leap into the night without kissing Sirius one more time. “I love you,” he says. “I will never leave you again. This I promise.”
Sirius watches him disappear into the darkness, amidst the millions of stars dotting the sky. For once he does not look up to them with longing, but a sense of hope for the days, months, and years to come.