Chapter Text
Estinien had been granted a personal room of his own in the infirmary, a small miracle given the amount of those still recovering from the attack of the Horde. It is you who sits alone at the bedside of the former Azure Dragoon, awaiting the moment when he would next wake. Ser Aymeric had returned to his duties and Alphinaud persuaded to rest from his long vigil.
Your thoughts drift, and you think of those whom you have met, have helped saved, and have lost. People come and go in your life so rapidly in your life it is hard to find time to mourn them. And after Haurchefant, something vital had shut off inside you.
But now this man lies before you, drained but not broken, having been lost but now retrieved. As small of a chance as it was, it happened, and it’s rekindled something inside you which you thought you lost. You are not sure yet to be grateful or afraid.
Waiting is a mindless game, and you find yourself playing with the frayed end of your sleeve as you watch over Estinien’s sleeping form. You lose track of yourself, weaving and unweaving the threads together in an endless pattern. It is a shock when a pale hand suddenly reaches out and grabs you, stopping your movement.
You let out a half scream of surprise and instinctively jerk away, the hand falling away limply. Your chair wobbles dangerously and threatens to tip you out onto the floor but you lean forward hard and stabilize it quickly, exhaling loudly.
“Enough of that.” Estinien’s stern voice scolds you as you recover, and you blush in embarrassment.
“Forgive me. I did not expect you to reach out so suddenly.”
“And I did not expect you to scream in my ear.” You roll your eyes because it was hardly in his ear, but you let the matter fall without further trifle.
Estinien shoots you a look of bemusement. “Have you naught else to do besides guard me?”
You frown. “I’m not guarding you. I’m making sure you don’t run off and get yourself into trouble again.”
“You truly think I am capable of such a feat in this state?” A raise of an eyebrow.
“Your knack of getting into trouble is as bad as Ser Aymeric’s. You are particularly stubborn when it comes to staying out of danger.” You say firmly, folding your arms across your chest. He makes a noise that sounds something like laughter, but the sound is so unfamiliar to you that you really can’t be sure.
Quiet falls over both of you, but you feel an uncomfortable itch in your throat, the need to say something and keep him focused on you.
“I’m glad you’re back.”
His eyes snap to you, but he says nothing and you struggle to find your next words. The silence is deafening, crushing all other senses until you can only feel his gaze intently upon you.
“I was not sure if you would truly survive.” You confess, finally, breaking the quiet. “But you’re here now.”
“It is not like you to be so sentimental.” Estinien observes.
You do not meet his gaze. “I know.” You reply. “But things have changed. We have changed. And maybe it’s time I start fighting to keep those I care for close to me.”
He reaches for your hand again, and this time you do not withdraw. “Perhaps.” He agrees.
---
The ceremony is beautiful, the day crystal clear and unusually warm – a sign from the gods that even they approve of this newfound union between man and dragon.
The faces of the Ishgardian citizens are upturned in awe as they watch Aymeric take off on the back of Vedrfolnir, signaling the start of an era of peace with dragons. But your eyes are turned elsewhere, searching through the gathered crowds for someone else.
You find him not in the throngs but on a lower pathway, walking slowly towards the Steps of Faith. You push through the gathered mass, blind to the grumblings and complaints of the others as you rush towards his familiar figure.
He’s almost to the gates when you catch up to him and you feel strangely out of breath. He stops at your approach, turning his head ever so slightly to peek at you from the corner of an eye. You don’t know where he is going or why, only that he is and you cannot follow him.
“I will see you again, won’t I?” You ask, hating how vulnerable you sound but also knowing how much you’d miss him terribly if he were to enver come back.
He tilts his head ever so slightly as if pondering your words carefully but you can see a flicker of a smile on his face. You breathe a sigh of relief. Wordlessly he turns back to the gates once you have seen and presses forward, a trail of petals in his wake.