Work Text:
Whatever was being said from beyond these doors, Aymeric could not make out over the beating of his own heart clogging his ears. Nerves could get the best of any soul but this was a particular breed of anxiousness he had not experienced before. It fell somewhere between giddiness and dread. His stomach was rife with butterflies but he found that he didn’t entirely hate the sensation. In his younger years, when he was still round in the cheeks, he recalled other younglings and adolescents alike describing such feelings when speaking of someone they had taken a shine to, someone they had come to adore. Aymeric could never contribute to the subject having never felt that way, not until now as a fully grown man. Surely introducing oneself to the mother of the man one has come to covet can’t be that hard? There was only one way to find out. Gently with the back hand, he knocks on the door. An exuberant voice sings his welcome. Aymeric squares his shoulders and finally steps past the threshold. As he shuts the door behind, he smiles warmly at the woman sitting up in bed. “Tis good to see you hale and whole Lady Vairemont.” He shifts his gaze to the man at the end of her bed. “You as well… Labault.” His name tingled on his tongue.
“Bault! You made no mention of your charming friend coming to visit!” Her son casts her an annoyed, withering glare, mumbling something about being in the dark as well. She only laughed merrily as she insisted she was only teasing. “Well then… to what do I owe the pleasure of your presense?” Something almost mischievous glimmered in her dark smoldering eyes as she smiled with her teeth. “If you have come to check on little old me I am faring quite well! Sore as can be mind you! Oh not to mention I wake up to more grey hairs by the day~” She combs her fingers through her mostly midnight hair. “Skunk stripes as my father called them.”
Aymeric chortles softly. “A rather crude thing to call them though I suppose the resemblance is fitting enough.” He takes careful strides closer, clearing his throat a bit too loudly before speaking again. “While I did come to see how your health was faring, there is another matter I wished to address.” He wonders briefly if he was leaning too heavily on professionalism but carries on in spite of his mind screaming at him to loosen up just a touch. “It has become apparent that I have not properly introduced myself to you. My apologies.” He says with a bow. In his peripheral vision, he tries not to notice Labault’s expression twist into something between pity and amusement. “Aymeric De Borel, Lord Commander. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, belated as it may be.” Just as he bows, he picks up a distinct snort from Labault.
“ And Lord Speaker.” When Aymeric only stared owlishly, Labault huffed half of a laugh. “I suppose this is to be expected… or did you forget that you have ascended to Lord Speaker of the High Houses?” It was hard to tell if he was being serious or trying to poke fun, either way, his mother seemed to have found it rather humorous, more so when Aymeric flushed slightly with embarrassment. As if Aymeric ever could ever really forget the hefty responsibility placed on his shoulders by the people.
Once more he finds himself clearing his throat too loudly. “No, no… slip of the mind is all.” In truth this wasn’t the first time, even the likes of Lucia still refers to him as simply Lord Commander. Granted, he finds he prefers it that way, even if she corrected herself Aymeric would simply brush it off. He was still the same man as before albeit with a plethora of added responsibilities piled up on his desk both figuratively and quite literally.
“Not the only thing to slIp your mind, it seems!” Mother Vairemont chimed in, that glimmer returning to her gaze. “Did you forget who I was? The False Fury had connections, you know!” When silence stretched on she could only erupt in laughter loud enough to likely be heard even down the hall. “Goodness! He really did!” Her laughs turned to coughs when sharp pain stabbed at her ribs. She smiled through the pain as she motioned for her to stay seated.
Aymeric remained deathly silent all the while. He most certainly remembered this woman paraded around in armor like that of The Fury herself, poorly hid her real identity and both helped and hindered the efforts of the now finished Dragonsong War. It just seemed like a minor detail in the grand scheme. The mask has come off and she is the mother of Labault, the man he planned to court should things fall in his favor. “I… suppose you have already referred to me by name well before this moment.” His efforts to be polite have been thwarted by semantics. “Still I- thought it was the proper thing to do!”
Labault sighs deeply, chastising his mother under his breath to cease her snickering before another stitch bursts. “While your efforts are appreciated, you needn’t be so formal with the most informal woman I know.” He looks towards his mother who only gave him a nod of agreement and a tooth filled grin. “Not to mention… in a sense the two of you were already acquainted before I had set foot in Ishgard.” He leaves out the parts where his mother was so bad at being incognito when speaking to anyone that Aymeric was able to piece together with relative ease. “No need to leave a good impression when she’s already taken a liking to you.”
“Come now Bault! Let the boy try and win my graces!” There were no graces to win when Aymeric already had them, not that she had any plans to let him know as much. It was much more fun to watch him squirm ever so slightly in her presence. “After all, this is the real reason for your visit, yes?” She framed it as a question despite already knowing the answer. “Well?” She stares intently at Aymeric, trying to coax out a reply by humming obnoxiously, earning her an incredulous look from her son.
Aymeric did not shy away from her gaze despite the nerves crawling up his spine. “You have the right of it.” He bites the inside of his cheek to keep the giddy smile at bay when Labault flushes a tender rouge. “Mayhap a more unorthodox approach is more appropriate for our circumstances.” He truly was overthinking the matter it seems. “I shall leave you to your rest then, Lady Vairemont.” Aymeric knows announcing his exit is rather abrupt but there wasn’t much else to say after his poor attempts. There were other matters to attend to, it was only a matter of time before someone came to fetch him. He apologizes for the intrusion, promising to visit another time. Just as his hand reached for the door, a voice called out to him.
“Isette. Lady Vairemont sounds rather stuffy. Call me Isette.” Aymeric turns back to find Isette with a softer visage, no mischievous glint to be seen. “I eagerly await your next visit! As does my son I assure you!” Isette held back a snort as Labault made a strangled yelp, red in the face and glaring.
Aymeric can’t help but grin in such a way he can only assume looked terribly boyish. “I shall do my best not to keep you waiting for too long then. Isette. Labault…” It didn't bother him when Labault said nothing in return, he was content with the silent nod and stiff handed wave. The tips of his ears were red, he notes. With one more farewell, Aymeric finally takes his exit. He lingers by the door, shame nestles itself at the base of his throat as he does something he knew he would not be proud of. He quietly shuffles back to the door to press an ear to it. Eavesdropping has never been a habit of his and he prays this isn’t the start of it. At first, there wasn’t much to hear but Isette’s melodic humming. Aymeric was about to pull away until someone finally spoke.
“You and Aymeric are involved, yes?” He can barely make out Labault coughing out that odd strangled noise from before. “No need to hide it from me! I can smell the roses in the air!” Isette punctuated her statement with a series of claps. “... Neither of you truly need the approval of a mother that went missing… you are a man fully grown…” The usual cheer in her voice vanished. Aymeric burned with shame, he was intruding on something not meant for him to hear. Even still, his feet were rooted to the ground. “He would make a fine partner… a good man…” The room briefly falls silent once more.
Rustling could be heard, followed by footsteps stopping just shy of the door. Aymeric’s skin prickled. Has he been found out? He holds his breath, lips sealed tight with fear. It came as both a relief and shock when Labault spoke as if there wasn’t a sorry sod spying on his conversation. “Even had you not approved of him I wouldn’t have cared… I understand the circumstances that kept you away and there will come a day when it no longer stings- however…” Labault takes in a sharp breath, the kind one takes when on the verge of tears. “It does give me heart to know you do…” Aymeric regained the ability to move, taking this as his queue to make a hasty retreat. He gave no regard to how noisy he might have been, he anticipates Labault pulling him aside later to interrogate him. Aymeric can sweat the details later, for now he wanted to revel in the moment knowing that regardless of his successful efforts… Labault would still choose him.