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On good days, Estinien would wander through the markets at a leisurely pace, keeping his ears open for any whispers of interesting treasures or adventure. But as the days marched on and the sunlight stretched longer into the evening, bringing with it a heatwave unlike any other, he gradually began to prefer staying indoors or near buildings.
He would often stand in the shade on the balcony above the Rising Stones, leaning against the wall, one knee bent, as he watched the bustling city of Revenant's Toll below him. It kept him cool and out of sight from prying eyes. And while this worked for some time, he found himself itching to travel again, to just leave in the middle of the night for an airship to anywhere but here.
The thoughts rolled in his head constantly as he was all too aware of the eyes on him, preventing his departure. It was Tataru in the way she would call for him to adjust his clothing for free every few weeks; Thancred and the Warrior of Light, who he would catch glimpses of as he meandered the streets; Y'shtola and how her blind white eyes would stare at him from across the room, as if she knew something he did not. Sometimes he even caught sight of Alisaie and G'raha, who were not putting in the effort to bother hiding, often marching right up to him for a conversation if he wandered too near the gates.
Estinien cursed himself for letting this happen. All it took was a two week long trip to Radz-at-Han to drop in on Vrtra and tell him the good news. Vrtra congratulated him on finding a mate, Estinien questioned if he was able to sense any interference from Nidhogg's aether, and the next thing he knew, he was being ambushed by Tataru, Krile, and Sylveret, the latter of which had never, to Estinien's disappointment, read the letter he'd left him.
The sun was starting to set when Krile wandered up to the balcony to fetch him.
Estinien glanced down at her, his face even, arms crossed.
"Sylveret has prepared dinner," she announced. "Hopefully chicken salad is to your liking? It's much too hot for cooking just yet."
"Mm… Why do you all try so hard?" Estinien asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Our arrangement merely makes us coworkers, and yet the entire group watches me and tries to care for me when I never asked. It's stifling."
Krile smiled softly. "In a way, I suppose, a lot of us are family after the adventures we've shared. And because Sylveret means a lot to us and you mean a lot to him, we naturally care for you too. Though that isn't to say we only care for you because of that!"
Estinien sighed, relenting. "I suppose so."
Sylveret was brash, loud, and oftentimes stupid… but they had known each other for years by now. Estinien's Azure Dragoon comrade who saved him from Nidhogg and then some.
Though it hadn't exactly been officially announced, it was obvious that Sylveret was the father to his children.
He looked out into the distance at Midgardsormr's corpse.
Absentmindedly, he caressed the top curve of his belly where one of the two babes within pressed back. Normally, elezen babies were of comparable size to hyur babies, especially at Estinien's size. But around the six month mark Estinien did not expect his middle to round out as much as it noticeably had; all he could assume was they inherited more of Sylveret's au ra traits than his own elezen traits, meaning it must have happened on one of their nights alone prior to visiting Ilsabard, as before becoming a miqo'te Sylveret had reached an impressive seven foot two, built like a brick wall.
Part of him had quietly hoped they were two little kittens, but it was long past that point now.
"How are you feeling?" Krile asked sympathetically. "You don't talk much these days."
"Tired."
In his prime, nothing could stop him, and he longed for those days. The scales that grew along his body itched incessantly and a consistent pain grinded in his joints and his back, likely a result of years of reckless battling, his fusion with Nidhogg, and his pregnancy. Even the skin on his midsection itched, and as stretched as it was, his clothes aggravated it with the slightest shift of the fabric.
Normally, he could shake it off, or see a mage about it, but he already tried that months ago and it never took the edge off.
"You should tell Sylveret," Krile urged. "You know he would take care of you if you let him."
"I never said he couldn't."
"He does not wish to step on your toes, is all. As I understand, you're quite flighty," Krile said in amusement. "Now come along. It won't be many of us tonight, so hopefully no crowd to scare you off."
"Okay, I can't fix the pain, but I can help the scales," Sylveret said as he rifled through drawers.
Eventually he pulled out a glass jar of some kind of ointment he had not used since he'd been fantasia'd into a miqo'te. It looked pale and oily, something Estinien wouldn't have bothered using at all.
But Sylveret had once been an au ra, covered in scales from his beard to his arms, shoulders, chest, thighs, and ankles, and had proudly taken care of and shown them off at any chance he could. While Sylveret had no doubt the ointment would work, Estinien didn't know why it should be wasted on himself, who went to the effort to ignore his scales completely.
Estinien sat at the edge of the bed, turning so his back faced Sylveret. His shirt was off, revealing plenty of scales along his shoulders, back, and arms that were dull and flaking, both from him simply not caring to take care of them and the babies sapping the extra resources from his body. They weren't rough like an au ra's, instead small, black, smooth triangle shaped pieces that overlaid each other like fish scales. He wasn't sure this mixture would work on his scales at all.
"Why are you always so insistent I use this?"
Sylveret rolled his eyes. "I'm sure it'll be less annoying to have scales that don't itch than to ignore it all the time," he said.
Suddenly a cold glob of the ointment dropped onto the scales on his shoulder. Estinien shuddered, stiffening as Sylveret rubbed it in in firm circles with careful, practiced fingers.
"Gods, when was the last time you did anything with your scales?" Sylveret asked softly, his ears twitching. Estinien shrugged.
Sylveret knew he wasn't getting an answer out of Estinien and stifled a sigh. He worked the ointment down from his shoulders to the au ra-like winged shaped scale pattern on his arms, with very little going a long way. A large patch of scales spread across Estinien's upper back and to deal with those Sylveret dug his thumbs in further.
Estinien sat still, propped up on one arm, his eyes closed, and head hanging forward somewhat; the massage allowed him to give in to his exhaustion, but he kept his ears open for whatever Sylveret might say.
To his dismay, however, he'd dozed off, unsure for how long, leaving him startled as Sylveret gently pushed him in the shoulder, turning him to face forward. Estinien reached for his lance which was nowhere in the vicinity. He cleared his throat to pretend he wasn't just about to spear Sylveret.
"I'm almost done, but we can end there if you want," Sylveret said. His brow furrowed. "It's just…if you'd let me, all I need to do next is the scales creeping up on your stomach."
Right. Though the growth of scales had more or less stopped and he did not expect any more major developments, they'd slowly come up from his thighs to the sides of his body just before the start of his midsection. With the stretch of his belly, the smaller more outward ones fanned out, leaving tiny slivers of skin showing between them. He could to it himself since he could reach those ones, but…
He also realized in all this time, he had not really let Sylveret too close. Not as close as they were before.
It had not been his intention.
He didn't have any excuse for himself.
He glanced up from the jar in Sylveret's hands to his huge, pleading gold eyes that G'raha undoubtedly taught him to do.
"Alright. Just be careful."
Sylveret grinned.
At first he focused only on the scales, but when they were done, Estinien's belly visibly shifted. Estinien caressed the side where one of his babies stuck out briefly before shifting around again. It not only hurt his tender skin but felt strange, unlike anything he'd experienced before, and he didn't think he'd ever get used to it.
Sylveret placed his pleasantly warm hand against his firm belly. He softly rubbed his thumb as he watched, a rare, genuine smile crossing his face as one of the babies pushed back. In all their years together, Estinien had never seen Sylveret so overjoyed by anything until now.
Perhaps it was an au ra thing, or maybe Sylveret had given in to his new miqo'te habits, as he nuzzled his cheek against Estinien's belly affectionately when one, or both, did a huge stretch that nearly made Estinien gasp.
To Estinien's surprise, Sylveret was _purring_, which he did not know miqo'te could do at all. The deep rumbling against his side reverberated through Estinien's body, calming both himself and the babies, who gradually stopped fighting for room.
"Do that more often," Estinien whined. He leaned back, letting out a contented sigh.
"If you'd let me," Sylveret replied, his voice tinged with apprehension. His hand did not leave Estinien's belly. "I don't want you to run away again."
Estinien reached up to run his fingers through Sylveret's bright red hair. It had grown longer and softer the last few months, reaching just past his shoulders.
"Forgive me. I'm got used to going my own way." He placed one hand over Sylveret's. "I won't run away. I'll be here with you."
Sylveret sat up then, leaning in to kiss Estinien. It had been months since he'd felt Sylveret so close and he pushed himself closer, deeper into the kiss.
The miqo'te pulled away sooner than Estinien wanted and he quickly grabbed the front of his shirt. Sylveret raised an eyebrow, smirking.
"What, not enough for you?" Sylveret asked, watching as a light blush crossed Estinien's cheeks. He leaned in again. "Oh, you're touch starved from running away all this time, aren't you?"
Estinien clicked his tongue, scowled, and glanced away from Sylveret. "Just shut up and kiss me again idiot."