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A crisp dusting of powdery snow floated through the Gridanian air as children and adults alike frolicked through the market stalls, eager to find gifts for one another. Festive, colorful decorations, lit by candles and magical means alike, could not help but catch the eye wherever one looked. A certain feeling of fond nostalgia tugged at the Warrior of Light's well-traveled heart.
It's almost like Starlight in Ishgard, she thought, thinking fondly of the season she spent there so many moons ago. There was pain there, to be sure; she'd spent the holiday with dear friends, some of whom she knew she wouldn't see again in this lifetime. But the joy and laughter she'd been surrounded by, even in the midst of war, had left a wonderful, indelible impression upon her heart.
It was not exactly the same here, of course; the snow was only a few ilms deep, barely enough for her boots to crunch into. The verdant green of the Twelveswood was lush with life even in this coldest of seasons — which brought just enough of a chill for one's breath to freeze in the air and for a warm sweater or coat to be welcome. If she dressed here as she had in Ishgard, in several snugly secured layers, she would likely be sweating. Even now, as she tended the pots of hot kinderpunsch and ladled out steaming mugs to visitors, wearing the red velvet Starlight robe of a festival helper, it was still enough to keep her quite warm.
So as she wiped her brow after prepping another batch of punch and turned back towards the bustling crowd, it was not at all conspicuous that her cheeks warmed upon the sight of none other than the Lord Commander himself.
"Oh! What a pleasant surprise, finding you here," Aymeric said with a dazzling smile that immediately made her feel giddy. He gestured almost bashfully to his own attire, which matched hers — although curiously he still wore his armored gauntlets underneath his helper's robe. "And wearing the same outfit, at that. Though I must say it flatters you more, my friend."
The Warrior laughed, covering her mouth coyly with one hand while she yet held a ladle in the other. "Says the one far more practiced in flattery," she teased, and turned back to set the ladle down.
"Well I never," the Lord Commander replied playfully without even a slight hint of offense. She turned back and smiled at him, taking in his appearance once more... goodness, that white turtleneck only made his dark hair and azure eyes all the more striking.
"What are you doing here?" she found herself asking, then cringed slightly. "I mean, it is so good to see you here! But last I'd heard, state affairs were consuming nigh on your every waking moment... or so I was told."
"Mm, that they were, for a time... But even the pettiest nobles cease their politicking for Starlight season in Ishgard... or at least disguise it as charitable deeds. In any case, all House meetings are adjourned until the new year, and I relish the opportunity to bring a bit of joy to the children whilst seeing new sights abroad. But, never mind me, old friend... 'tis so good to see you again. Have you been faring well?"
The Warrior of Light nodded bashfully, trying to ignore the way she always felt so damned warm in this man's presence. But, well, it was Aymeric — she was far from the only one who felt the impulse to swoon whenever he was near. It did not help that every time they spent any time alone together, the timbre of his voice and the kindness in his gaze always made her feel a curious sense of intimacy... like perhaps he had eyes for her and her alone. But that was ridiculous, and despite all the moments where she'd been almost certain he was going to make a confession or draw her in for a kiss, it had never happened. Had he been any less... well, Aymeric, she might have made a move herself, but...
"Much better now that you're here," she muttered without thinking, then bolted stiffly upright. "I—I mean, yes I've been doing well. My friends and I have made so many new discoveries across the sea I would tell you about... but never mind that, you're here to try the punch, right?"
Gods, she nearly wanted to curl up and die.
Aymeric raised his eyebrows for a brief moment then simply nodded, flashing her another one of his kind smiles. "That I am indeed... I find myself rather in need of refreshment. Might I ask for a mug of the local Gridanian variety?"
She nodded vigorously and set to work, grabbing a matching commemorative mug and ladling it full of the spiced apple beverage. Her eyes caught on the various special mix-ins that someone had left on the nearby counter... Oh. That little glass bottle to the left, wasn't that birch syrup? She would never forget the first time she'd had tea with Lord Aymeric, and she'd watched him pour a prodigious amount of the sweet liquid into his Ishgardian tea, savoring his first sip with a visible relish that had captivated her. She'd asked to try the same, and... goodness it had almost been more of a dessert than a beverage, and...
Well. A dash of that was going in for certain. She stirred it well, and then made her way back to where he stood, patiently waiting for her.
"Here you go," she said, offering him the mug. He took it from her gratefully, the cold mail that covered his fingertips grazing the side of her hand slightly as he did. A shiver ran down her spine, and she inhaled slowly.
"Oh, this smells wonderful," he said, before pressing the rim of the cup to his beautiful lips and taking a long sip.
She could not take her eyes off of him... honestly, it was kind of a problem. But the way he closed his eyes thoughtfully as he drank, clearly taking in every flavor that passed his lips with every bit of the attention he possessed... how his eyebrows shot up with surprise halfway through before he swallowed his taste of the drink and settled into a satisfied smile... she could nearly melt just looking at him.
"Well, now... What an indulgence," he murmured, opening his eyes to gaze at her. "Though I am quite surprised; while the overall flavor is quintessentially Gridanian, there is no mistaking the Ishgardian accent. Is this perhaps an acknowledgement of the Starlight Celebration's origins...?"
The Warrior laughed nervously. "Oh, no, I... I just thought you might like it better with a dash of birch syrup," she admitted. "I—I happened to have some on hand," she added quickly, gesturing vaguely in the bottle's direction. Certainly that would seem less weird... oh gods, what was she saying?
"...I see," he replied quietly, his tone low and rumbling. She looked up at him in a panic, but he seemed to be pleased, and thoughtfully considering. "You know me well, my friend. That you would go to such trouble to prepare it to my tastes... well, I daresay I should consider myself blessed."
She opened her mouth to protest, her cheeks warm with embarrassment, but he simply shook his head and the words escaped her.
"I shan't keep you, I am well aware there is a line forming behind me..." Gods, she had not even noticed, but there most certainly was. "...and I must return to my duties after I finish this cup, besides. I would not want to keep the children waiting for their gifts. But after you are done here, might you meet me by the entrance to the markets? I would not waste the rare chance to spend more time with a dear companion during this special season."
"Of course, Lord Aymeric," she replied breathlessly, her heart rising in her chest.
He smiled again, his sapphire eyes twinkling, before breaking from the line and walking away from her stall. She took the next customer's order in a daze, filling their mug as if by rote, her mind struggling to make sense of what had just happened.
Was she imagining things, or was she being asked on a date? No, certainly it couldn't be...
Though few things in life brought Aymeric more joy than handing out gifts to smiling children in need during Starlight season, tonight he found himself thoroughly distracted.
The drink had been incredibly delicious and comforting, no doubt; it was a marriage of sweetly spiced flavors that at first sip put him in the spirit of the season. But that he would chance to not only find her preparing drinks at the Starlight Celebration, but to hear such words escape her lips...
Have you been faring well?
Much better now that you're here.
For all her flustered attempts at a cover-up, his ears had caught her words clear as day — he felt a sudden gratitude for being born an Elezen, for perhaps less sensitive hearing would have merely granted him audience to incoherent mumbling. The last time they had met alone, after he'd dragged her battered body home from a bleak battlefield, he had so nearly spilled his heart to her—
"I know the burden you shoulder, but I cannot bear to come so close to losing you," he'd choked out by her bedside, grasping her hand in both of his. "You are—you are so very—"
But at that moment the others had arrived to see to her and he'd not continued further. Besides, for all the signs she'd given him that she enjoyed his company, she had also brushed off all of his attempts at deepening their connection... one time he'd even invited her on a date to the Jeweled Crozier and she'd brought Alphinaud along, both of them apparently entirely oblivious as to his true intentions, either that or politely ignoring them. He'd thought that perhaps she preferred to keep him at arm's length, that despite how keenly he longed for her affections she merely saw him as a friend...
But there were times when he had caught her looking at him in a way that kindled the hope inside him he'd endeavored to suffocate. A kind gesture, an extra flourish in the letters she would send him on her travels.
And truth be told, the entire reason he'd come to Gridania for this occasion was not merely to seek respite from the pressures of his nation's leadership — it was because this was her home, and as soon as the streets of Ishgard had been draped in ornamented boughs and bathed in romantic candlelight, he had been hit with an overwhelming need to spend this time with her.
After the last present had been handed out to the very last child, Aymeric made his way towards the appointed meeting place. She was standing there, a silk poinsettia blossom tucked into her hair, a flush of cold at her cheeks and nose... Fury but she was beautiful. He strode towards her, the sounds of Starlight merriment echoing around him.
The Warrior of Light felt so nervous, waiting for Aymeric here — it seemed so silly to her. She hardly flinched these days when meeting even royalty — hells, she'd faced countless gods, even — but meeting this man always tangled her up in knots.
She heard the crunching sound of approaching footsteps and turned to see the man in the flesh, walking towards her. When she met his eyes he smiled brightly, his eyes crinkling in that way they did that almost smoldered, and despite her best efforts she involuntarily let out a small giggle. He called her name as he approached, then offered his arm to her as soon as he'd reached her. She took it, though she felt rather like a bottle of champagne which someone had shaken quite vigorously.
"You aren't too tired for a leisurely stroll around the city, are you?" he asked, inclining his head to meet her eyes better. She shook her head, and let Aymeric lead her from the markets and into the less-bustling streets of Old Gridania.
It was a curious feeling, being led around the city she called home by a foreigner — yet as he began asking questions about the sights he led her past, she settled into it comfortably, telling him local lore and supplying him with anecdotes about landmarks, about people and places long-familiar to her yet wonderfully new to him.
"It's not my first time in Gridania, not in the least," he reminded her, "but I've only had brief diplomatic visits, without a lovely guide. It is a truly beautiful place, the Twelveswood. I can tell you love it very much, as I do Ishgard. I can rather clearly see why."
"I'm glad you think so," she answered, her heart stirring at his kind words. Lovely? Her? Did he truly think so? He'd seen her wounded and scarred, covered in the blood of her enemies — but his eyes betrayed no lie. "Gridania is not without its share of troubles, but in a season like this..."
"...One can easily forget, yes?" She nodded, and he offered her a sympathetic smile. "I know exactly how you feel."
Do you? she wondered, though not about their respective nations.
They turned a corner, and the sound of rushing water filled her ears. She heard Aymeric's intake of breath at the sight before them, of a nearly-empty plaza strung up with lights and festive Starlight baubles, and a sparkling waterfall making graceful cascades of water to the cave floor below, which was in this season strewn with glowing stars.
"Oh! This is my favorite place in the city," she told him, gently tugging him forward and guiding them both closer to the waterfall. "Apkallu Falls — though there aren't any actual apkallu here, before you ask. It's always so peaceful and quiet here... I like to visit whenever I need to gather my thoughts."
"'Tis beautiful," he breathed, evidently mesmerized by the waterfall before him. "I have not seen waterfalls like this since before the Calamity struck. How wonderful," he murmured, his gaze shifting to her.
She fidgeted, her cheeks warm beneath his gaze, and bowed her head before shyly withdrawing her arm from his — surely she would soon make a right fool of herself if she stood so close to him any longer — and felt his grip tighten around her wrist.
"Please, wait," he protested, his eyes flashing with earnest alarm.
She swallowed, her eyes wide. "Aymeric?"
He gave a quick look around them — they were quite alone. "Pray forgive me if I have misread... but there is something I must ask of you before the night is over."
Her breath caught, her heart racing. He couldn't be—he wasn't, right? It was like all of those other moments, where her heart had told her aught was there when it had not been. Even so, she still couldn't help but hang on his next word breathlessly, giving him a small nod.
The Elezen smiled, looking almost painfully relieved, and loosened his grip, standing before her and gently clasping his hand around hers. His mail-covered hand was by all objective measures cold, but his touch somehow still soft and warm. He spoke her name softly, then pressed his warm lips to her knuckles, and she drew in a held breath.
"Please, tell me... are my advances unwanted? For though I treasure our friendship quite dearly, I must admit, I am rather hopelessly in love with you," he said quietly, bending close so she could hear. The low timbre of his hushed voice echoed through her ears. Surely she had not heard him properly? Perhaps this was simply some kind of wonderful Starlight fever dream? Her eyes flitted up to his, and her heart stopped — he was looking at her with near-painful sincerity. No dream was as clear as this.
"You... are?" she asked dumbly, still disbelieving.
"Yes," he answered immediately, his other hand coming to gently cup her cheek. "Tell me, do you—"
She cut him off by reaching up on her toes and pressing her lips to his.
After the briefest moment of stunned silence, to her delight he kissed her back — oh, gods, he kissed her, his lips tender and warm against hers, his long arm coming to the crook of her waist to draw her in close. He smelled wonderful, like pine and citrus and the faintest scent of birch syrup that yet clung to his lips, his kiss gentle yet filled with an aching passion, and her heart soared— he loved her, Aymeric loved her—
The world came undone and when they parted, it recentered itself by rights around him, around her dearest friend who somehow, incredibly, had fallen for her too.
"...May I take that as a yes?" he chuckled, his voice choked with what seemed like awe.
She nodded, reaching up to touch his cheek with trembling fingertips. His skin was soft, and his warmth dispelled any of winter's chill. "Of course I love you, Aymeric. How could I not?"
A soft noise of joy escaped from Aymeric's lips. His strong arms enveloped her in an embrace, her cheek pressed against the soft velvet of his robe, and as they held one another tightly in her favorite place in the city, Starlight bells tinkling gently as distant wagons and festivalgoers ambled down the nearby path, her heart hammering joyously in her ears, the Warrior of Light could not recall a Starlight in all of history nearly as wonderful as this.