Chapter Text
In theory, Aymeric was dating Milo Jaab. Estinien was certainly dating him. Milo seemed to be fully aware that he was dating both of them.
(Aymeric checked, just to be sure.)
However, Milo barely spared Aymeric so much as a glance in passing. They’d exchanged maybe a handful of words in all the time they’d spent back home in Ishgard. He hadn’t even seen Milo in over a week. The last he did see him, Milo launched himself up onto the rooftops rather than exchange a single word.
At first, Aymeric thought that might just be what Milo’s like. Disappointing, since he’d been looking forward to knowing the man better, but not the worst odds he’d ever faced in social situations. And it wasn’t like he was expecting Milo to suddenly be verbose. Especially surrounded by Ishgardian Elezen that looked down at him like he was some kind of curiosity. Aymeric could hardly blame him for wanting to avoid that mess.
But then, Aymeric stumbled upon Estinien and Milo sitting on a bench in the marketplace. Milo listened intently as Estinien grumbled about something or another, his tail flicking with interest. In the space between breaths, he was smiling. Laughing, even. He shoved Estinien’s shoulder roughly and responded with something that made Estinien’s shoulders shake in kind.
A sour feeling curdled in Aymeric’s stomach. He abandoned the shish kebab vendor he’d been eyeing for lunch as his boots carried him closer to his supposed boyfriends. He told himself to take some deep breaths as he walked. To maintain the peace. There was certainly an explanation. Estinien didn’t have a sneaky bone in his body. This was, without a doubt, a misunderstanding.
Perhaps he hadn’t kept the storm of feelings entirely off his face, since Estinien took one look at him, handed Milo the rest of his gyro, and launched himself up into the sky. There was a clattering of loose roof tiles and the Azure Dragoon was gone.
Milo stared down at the gyro in his hands, then squinted up into the afternoon sun as if he could see where Estinien was headed. He stood, brushed himself off, then moved to hand Aymeric the gyro. Too startled to do anything but take it, Aymeric stood there stunned as he watched Milo collect his spear before crouching in preparation to leap after Estinien. Without so much as a word to Aymeric. Who he was supposedly dating.
“Milo.” Aymeric reached forward and grasped the spear around the harness that held it to Milo’s back, stilling his motions. He pushed a smile onto his face when Milo turned to look at him in confusion. (Confusion!) “Might we speak for a moment?”
Milo’s brow started to furrow and for a whole minute, Aymeric thought he was seriously going to be told ‘no.’ Years and years of being active in Ishgardian politics allowed him to remain calm. But he could feel the way his blood boiled just under his skin. Milo’s eyes dragged over him like he could see it too. Then, he shrugged and nodded. He reached forward to pluck the gyro back, and gestured to the bench.
Aymeric shook his head. “Let’s go for a walk, shall we?”
Milo’s ears flicked back again. He took a bite of Estinien’s gyro, and just watched Aymeric steadily.
Aymeric waited.
And waited.
And waited.
“You want to walk?” Milo asked awkwardly. Then gestured around them broadly. “You… want me to choose where?”
Oh. Perhaps that one was on Aymeric.
“No, no, I have an idea. My apologies, it’s been a long day.” Aymeric pinched the bridge of his nose and soothed away the tension at his brow as he started walking them towards one of the districts brought to ruin.
It was still functional enough, even if the buildings weren’t structurally sound enough to actually house people and shops again just yet. And there was a plethora of pretty stone bridges that Aymeric was fond of. He stopped them both on one of these bridges. Milo’d since finished off the last of Estinien’s lunch, and sucked some of the residual grease off the flat of his thumb. Aymeric pointedly looked to the cityscape instead.
“Have I done something wrong?” Aymeric asked. It wasn’t terse. It was perfectly polite.
Milo’s frown returned in intensity tenfold. He leaned crossed arms over the bridge railings and rested his chin on them. His tail flicked back and forth like a metronome, and with each beat, Aymeric found himself closer and closer to losing his goddamn mind.
“Why do you ask me?” Milo gave him a confused look. “I do not think you did something badly, but Alphinaud is better for politics.”
Aymeric took a moment to process that. “No, not in politics—”
“In battle?” Milo’s ears perked up a little.
Aymeric scowled. “No. I mean between us.”
Milo stared at him blankly.
“Within our relationship.”
More blank staring.
“Of the romantic variety?” Aymeric gestured broadly between them then let out a frustrated noise. “Fury, I swear, you would think it was just an elaborate fever dream!”
Milo then looked deeply concerned. He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Lord Commander. We are still in public.”
“I know that,” Aymeric snapped. Milo flinched back and Aymeric held up a hand in apology. “I’m sorry, that was harsh. This ward is vacated. It is safe enough to speak so long as we do not shout. Still, it isn’t as if you have come to see me in private either.”
Milo turned so his back was resting against the railing before he pressed his palms against the top bar, and hoisted himself up bodily to sit atop. He was closer to eye-to-eye like that. Not all the way there, though. If he weren’t in such a foul mood, Aymeric might have found it cute.
“You are upset with me,” Milo said carefully.
“Yes,” Aymeric hissed. “I am. You treat me like a stranger! Am I to pretend we aren’t even friends?”
Milo blinked owlishly. “We are friends?”
Aymeric must have looked a proper mess, since even Milo seemed to realize his faux pas. He reached over awkwardly to grasp Aymeric’s forearm.
“I am… not good with words. Sorry.” Milo winced. “I am… surprised? I think this is the word. Surprised. That you want to be pretend-friends with me.”
“Not just pretend,” Aymeric protested, muffled into his own hands as his dragged his palms down his face. “I thought… I had thought you wanted to… Did I misunderstand? You are in no way obligated to put up with my courting you, if it should make you uncomfortable—”
Milo gave him another baffled look, but this time paired with arms crossed defensively across his chest. “Yes. I am also ‘courting’ you, no?”
“Are you?” Aymeric laughed a little hysterically.
Milo raised a brow at him. “It is impossible to find you.”
Aymeric glared at him. “A terrible excuse. I have one of the most well known offices in the city. Look, if you aren’t interested, I will move on and there’s no need for all this—”
“Bah, no.” Milo scoffed. “You misunderstand. Finding you is not same as finding your office. It is your office, yes, your body is in there. But not you.”
Aymeric stared at Milo.
Milo stared back at Aymeric.
“Are you saying you think I’m possessed?” Aymeric blurted out, incredulous.
Milo’s scowl finally lifted in favor of a snicker. “Something like this, yes.”
“I am not,” Aymeric hissed, ducking into Milo’s space, “possessed.”
Milo watched him with something like amusement glittering in his eyes. “This is first time I see you since we returned, no?”
“That is because you won’t so much as speak to me—!” Aymeric started, but Milo’s hand came up and clamped over his mouth roughly. Aymeric made an outraged sound.
“No. I have seen Lord Commander. I have seen politician. Many masks. No Aymeric.” Milo said it so matter of factly that it seemed sensible up until Aymeric tried to parse whatever the hell that meant.
“I have no idea what you mean,” Aymeric shrugged his grip away and laughed again. “I don’t know how to be more me than I am already myself—”
He was cut off by a palm firmly cradling his jaw and turning him to face Milo. Milo smiled at him. Then pulled him in for a long, slow kiss. Aymeric bent to meet his lips, shifted until he had a steadying hand on Milo’s shoulder to make sure he didn’t go toppling off the bridge. Far more than a moment passed until Aymeric found his senses again and pulled away.
“We are still in public,” Aymeric said as he cleared his throat and tried to focus on literally anything else to help the red in his ears die down.
“Ah,” Milo hummed, and his tail flicked in such a way that Aymeric recognized as disappointment. “He is gone again.”
“What are you—?” Aymeric scowled at him.
Milo shrugged and hopped off the bridge railing. “I will see Aymeric when he returns. Not… Whoever this is.”
The gears turned slowly in his head, until the teeth finally locked together and clarity rushed in. Aymeric stared down at the Miqo’te man. “Are… Are you saying that you refuse to interact with me when my words and behaviors are… reserved?”
“They are not yours,” Milo gave him a look like it was obvious. “They are someone else. I am not dating that man. I am dating Estinien and Aymeric. I do not want to know the man that puts Aymeric in hiding.”
Aymeric felt like he’d been decked. He’d never thought of it like that. The pleasant smiles and cordial how-do-you-dos always seemed like shields to keep himself safe. That was the same thing though, was it not? Safe. Hidden. He frowned down at the stones on the bridge.
“Mm, good,” Milo nodded in approval. “You understand now.”
“I… There are very few instances in this city where I could truly be—” Aymeric’s throat closed around the rest of the sentence, much to his irritation. Milo watched him evenly. Reached out and put a much smaller hand over his. “I’m not sure what you ask is possible.”
Milo hummed thoughtfully. Golden eyes flicked back and forth across his face, like he was reading. Maybe he was. The Echo was a strange thing indeed. Aymeric hoped he liked whatever it was he read.
Milo offered his hand a squeeze, then a soothing pat before letting go. “You should be angry more.”
Aymeric was left standing alone on the bridge as Milo leaped away. Baffled, off-kilter, more than a little confused. And somehow, seen.
Nervousness and pride mixed like wine and liquor, it turned out. Aymeric felt a mighty wave of jitters shake his stomach up like champagne. Presumably, Pike L’oatel would be significantly less hostile now that Aymeric was dating his student. According to Estinien, the man was ‘weird, but nice enough.’ Practically a ringing endorsement! Therefore, it wasn’t unreasonable to hope for a complete turnaround in attitude. Or at least significantly fewer threats of assassination.
Still, he hovered longer than he liked to admit before he finally ducked into the main hall of Dragonshead Camp.
Haurchefant looked up at him and smiled immediately. Pike was sitting on the desk, within arms reach and his back towards Aymeric. One blue ear flicked to his position and Aymeric decided not to bother with entertaining the notion of discreetly calling Haurchefant away to chat without his fiance. Instead, he took a deep breath, and slapped a responding smile onto his face before he closed the hall door behind him.
“My friend! What brings the likes of the great Lord Commander to visit this desolate old fort? Are we in trouble?” Haurchefant was on his feet and moving to take Aymeric’s cloak, even as Aymeric fondly swatted his fussing away. “Oh, quit it. The snow will melt and the linens will be drenched in no time. There’s a perfectly good hearth right there to warm and dry even the fanciest of cloaks—”
Aymeric laughed. “I do not protest the idea, Haurchefant! I only wish to be allowed to remove the garment myself. Perhaps I am no longer a field-active knight, I do not think myself doddering just yet.”
“Hah! Doddering. As if you didn’t recently assist the Azure Dragoon and the Warrior of Light in the slaying of Nidhogg.” Haurchefant grinned, but only stood back with his arms crossed in front of his chest expectantly. Waiting for Aymeric to make good on his word.
Aymeric rolled his eyes but did as he was bid. “Truly, I am not planning some grand escape, you do not need to worry so much.
He handed the cloak over to Haurchefant, who’s grin suddenly had a glint in it Aymeric didn’t like at all.
“My beloved comrades in arms, camp craftsmen, and all else besides; would you be so kind as to grant us the room?” Haurchefant called sweetly to the rest of the people in the room. Adored as he was, it was no shock that he was met with smiles, casual salutes, and a swift exodus.
An exodus that, curiously, included Pike.
“Ah-ah-ah, not you,” Haurchefant placed a hand on Pike’s shoulder.
Pike paused where he leaned on his cane and looked up at Haurchefant curiously. “Oh?”
Haurchefant leaned back on one of the tables, his smile never once faltering, as he watched the hall vacate. Once the last person was out the door, he clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Perfect!”
Aymeric sighed. “Ser Greystone, while it is true I came here to seek advice on a personal matter, that does not mean I have time enough for whatever this ill-advised ambush is meant to be.”
“Please, let’s not pretend you have something to rush back to,” Pike scoffed. “I think you and I have done plenty to test the flexibility of your duties and schedule when you find yourself pressed. At least offer a better bluff. Whatever this is, my love has clearly worked hard to put it together. Don’t be rude.”
“Thank you kindly, Pike,” Haurchefant beamed at Pike.
Aymeric scowled. “I would certainly hope I’m not being threatened with Estinien’s death. Again.”
Haurchefant’s smile only faltered a little to tsk at his fiance, to which Pike smiled back innocently. It earned him a kiss on the cheek and Aymeric felt his mood rapidly souring.
“That was rather naughty of you,” Haurchefant said, more playful than scolding. “Which means, unfortunately, you might also dislike my little ambush. You see, I mean to trap you two in here together.”
It was a nightmare of a notion, to be sure, but Aymeric was busy watching Pike’s reaction. Pike’s ears flicked back and his tail stilled. Surprise, Aymeric realized. Pike was genuinely surprised. No matter how strained his relationship with Milo was, Aymeric needed to remember to thank the man for being around enough on the trip home that Aymeric now had a decent grasp on Miqo’te body language. Even if Pike’s face remained perfectly neutral and pleasant, he was surprised.
That did wonders to cheer Aymeric up. Whatever trap he’d fallen into, so had the great Pike L’oatel. He didn’t bother hiding the smile that curled the corners of his lips.
“You do understand that there is no lock you could apply to keep me trapped within here,” Pike spoke mildly. “And even should you manage the impossible, I am surprised that you think I wouldn’t disregard doctor’s orders to bust the door down.”
Haurchefant laughed. “I am under no illusions there, darling. What will keep you both in place will be neither lock nor bolt.”
Pike’s pleasantness faded to narrowed eyes. “Is that right?”
“Mmhm,” Haurchefant reached out to play with one of his braids. He ran the tip of it through his fingers fondly. “I ask you to stay as a favor to me, my love. Aymeric, stuffy as he sometimes is, has been naught but a steadfast friend to me. He has used the power of his position to ensure that I, and others with circumstances of birth similar to mine, have lived a relatively charmed life. The matters of the war notwithstanding, but I hardly think it would be fair to place that on his shoulders.”
Pike sighed as he nodded, his shoulders slumped forward minutely and his tail twitched back and forth in irritation.
Aymeric frowned. “I did not use my position to pull favors for friends, Ser Greystone. I saw a gross injustice—one that I narrowly avoided myself—that required attention, and dealt with it accordingly. While I am full glad to hear that you have been treated well—”
Haurchefant stood up from where he leaned on the table and clapped Aymeric’s shoulder fondly.
“And you, my dear friend,” Haurchefant pointed that grin towards him and Aymeric braced himself. “You would do well to rid yourself of the notion that all acts of altruism cannot also serve to better one’s own heart. I have no doubt that you would rather perish dramatically than abuse the power of your office—but do not deny that you had the names and faces of your friends held in your heart when you pushed for the bills protecting those of us who weren’t lucky enough to be adopted out of our status as bastards. Should you try to deny it, I will have no choice but to call you a liar; since I distinctly remember a fresh young-faced Aymeric running to the knight’s barracks to tell me the news himself.”
Aymeric’s face flushed and he stared down at the ground. “Still, it is a matter of phrasing, if nothing else! That I would give priority to—”
“Lord Commander,” Haurchefant continued, undaunted. “You will remain in this room simply because I ask you to. You know me well, my friend. You know well how much it means to me to have found love in my life. I would not see any fraction of it lost to unnecessary hostilities.” He put his hands on his hips and smiled at the both of them. “Besides, I think you’ll find you have quite a lot in common!”
Both Aymeric and Pike snorted.
Haurchefant’s smile grew just an ilm more insufferable.
The door closed gently behind him and the hall was suddenly silent as the grave. It felt like the air left the room with Haurchefant, leaving behind only uncomfortable tension. Not the worst Aymeric had ever suffered, at least. That award still went to his new boyfriend.
“May I bring a chair closer for you?” Aymeric asked Pike, figuring it didn’t hurt to be polite.
The scathing look he got in return said otherwise. “Aren’t you sweet.”
Aymeric threw his hands up and moved to go sit next to where he’d draped his cloak by the hearth. He took stock of his surroundings, and breathed in deep. The scent of a fireplace was always comforting.
“Alright,” Aymeric sighed the rest of his tension out. “I understand well that you don’t like me. Haurchefant is, as he says, a dear friend of mine, and I would prefer to do right by him. However, I haven’t the faintest idea how to go about changing your opinion. I’m not sure what tarnished it so harshly to warrant threatening the man I love.”
Pike’s tail cast a curious shadow towards the corner of the room that Aymeric tracked instead of looking over his shoulder to watch the other man join him by the hearth.
“Political ambition requires playing a rather ugly game,” Pike said simply. “And no one gets as far as you have without developing comfort with such ugliness.”
Aymeric frowned, but he kept his eyes on the fire. “I disagree.”
Pike laughed. And laughed, and laughed. Trailed off only when he seemed to realize Aymeric wasn’t laughing with him.
“Have I said something particularly funny?” Aymeric asked flatly.
Pike, still snickering, spoke between huffs of laughter. “You cannot be serious.”
“I am perfectly serious,” Aymeric scowled. “You are right that it is an ugly game. But it does not require comfort with the ugliness. Quite the contrary. Distress can be quite the motivator.”
Pike watched him with curious eyes. “Truly? You think there exists anyone that would forsake their own health, happiness, and safety with only stubbornness, spite, and a sense of righteousness to keep them standing?”
Aymeric ran a hand over his face. “I’m not sure. I certainly hope there is. There should be. If that’s the only sacrifice required for a better world, then—” he cut off sharply and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I am willing to call a truce, if you are. I do wish for you both to find happiness in your marriage, if you will believe that at least. I would not wish to detract from that.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Pike shift his weight. His tail coiled and uncoiled lazily. He hummed, then spoke again. “You said you came here for advice, did you not? Try me.”
The warrior made no sound at all as he finally took his seat on a crate. He watched Aymeric without an onze of reservatio. No amount of ear tilts, tail flicks, or taps of claws could have possibly given Aymeric even a hint as to what was going on behind purple eyes. He pursed his lips and nodded.
“Very well.” He paused, briefly indulging in a deluge of anxious thoughts all whipping through his mind, before pressing on. “It is in regards to Milo, actually. I assume you are aware that we are, ah. Courting?”
Pike snickered and his fangs looked sharper in firelight. “Milo didn’t phrase it as delicately, but that was the impression I got.”
Aymeric sat up a little straighter. “Do you mean to say he thinks our relationship is only physical in nature—?”
“No,” Pike cut him off. “I mean to say that that was how Milo introduced the news. More comfortable for him to admit to fucking two men rather than acknowledge how badly he was mooning over them both, I imagine.”
“Oh. Both.” Aymeric fell quiet. His heart thudded against his chest and he pressed his palm to it as if he could will it to calm down. “That is a bit of a relief, I suppose. Although it does nothing to solve my issue.”
“I assumed you were smart enough that I didn’t need to inform you directly,” Pike’s voice took on a dangerous tone, “but should you even think about breaking his heart—”
Aymeric barked out a laugh. “Hardly. I am far more at risk of the opposite.”
Pike frowned. “And this is what you sought advice on? You believe he has lost interest?” After a beat, he muttered under his breath. “My gods, man, it’s barely been a couple weeks. What could you have possibly done to lose his interest so fast?”
“I don’t know!” Aymeric blurted in a stressed rush. “I have no idea! He was… nothing like I expected. Brave, thoughtful… Fun. It had been ages since I’d allowed myself to indulge in simple fun, but he had Estinien and I on elk hunts like it was a perfectly normal diversion to our hike home.”
“Ah,” Pike grinned. He took on a Miqo’te accent and dropped his voice a little lower to mimic Milo. “‘We did not stop needing eating. Why is hunting extra, hm? No. Necessary. Takes no time. Will go fast if you do not ruin it.’ …Something like that?”
Aymeric smiled, surprised at the accuracy. “Something like that, yes.” He stretched out his legs, pushing his boots closer to the fire as he felt the wet of snow that seeped past the laces. “The moment we reached Ishgard, however…”
It was like a switch flipped. The curious gold eyes that followed his and Estinien’s absent chatter were suddenly focused elsewhere. There was no ear trained on Aymeric while Milo busied himself elsewhere. He was nearby, but even that only lasted a couple days. Then he all but disappeared. Estinien seemed to be able to find him easily enough, but Aymeric?
Aymeric sighed. “I asked him already. And while he gave me an answer, I…am not entirely sure what it means.”
Pike nodded slowly. “He wanted you to be you.”
“What?” Aymeric’s head whipped towards Pike, jaw dropped. “I mean—yes, that is what he said, but how did you—?”
Pike hushed him with a wave of his hand. “Think, Aymeric. You are concerningly clever when the stars align just right, but this does not require political genius.”
Aymeric flinched back. “This is not a game to me,” he spoke evenly, measured. “I did not decide to court your student on a whim. And these cryptic riddles are not helpful nor conducive to communication.”
Pike laughed again. “Yeah. That’s fair enough. He’s like that because of a language barrier. I’m just fucking with you.”
Aymeric scowled.
“What?” Pike finally met his eyes and shrugged. “You’re easy to rile up. Can you blame a guy for being bored? I’ve been cooped up for months with only wedding planning to keep me occupied. I’m going to lose my mind if Edmont asks me about shades of roses one more time.”
A laugh startled its way out of Aymeric’s chest and he breathed a little easier, even if he still couldn’t help feeling wary. He wasn’t sure he was ever going to shake that wariness around Pike.
“Say, hypothetically,” Pike leaned back on his palms as he spoke, chin tipped up so he could stare up at the ceiling. “There was a child that grew up under Garlean rule. Not in Garlemald—that would have been different—but somewhere freshly conquered. You are familiar with how Garlemald treats its conquests, I’m sure, but are you familiar with the Frumentarii?”
He spared a side-long glance at Aymeric, and barely a moment later nodded as if Aymeric had answered.
“Ah, my apologies, of course you are. What with Lucia’s past career. I had forgotten.” Pike continued as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb hefty enough to level Ishgard. Obviously Aymeric knew what he was talking about, but how in the seven hells did Pike know? “The Frumentarii are not immediately sent out into the field proper. That would be a fast way to lose valuable recruits. However, the skills that create the infamous intelligence branch of the Garlean military, are not earned in barracks or behind desks. They require practice.”
“...So they practice on their own people, where the stakes are low,” Aymeric said. “That’s… horrible.”
Pike nodded. “Correct. While it would behoove the military to keep eyes and ears on the internal dissenters, that is still delicate work. Even if the stakes aren’t quite as high as reconnaissance missions for the purposes of future conquering, taking down rebellions, or what have you. So instead, they aim for an easier target. The freshly conquered are not difficult to read. They are already scared. And they are vulnerable.”
Aymeric’s heart sunk.
“Say, hypothetically of course, a child was lucky enough to live through the conquest of his own village. His family did not make it along with him, no, that kind of luck does not exist, I’m afraid. But this child bore witness to a proud rebellion being torn to shreds, and then survived long enough to see his home become the playground of fresh Frumentarii.”
Pike often embodied a youthful energy. In the lively way he spoke, in the light in his eyes, the way he moved. Even with his injury. But not now. Now, as the light of the fireplace lit up the room in a fickle glow, Pike looked like a soldier. Lucia’s fear towards him was starting to click into place. Aymeric stayed very still.
“That hypothetical child,” Pike finally looked at Aymeric, making certain his point landed, “would know all too well that avoiding anyone who didn’t act with utmost honesty could very well mean the difference between life and death.”
Aymeric’s breath caught in his throat as the weight of it all landed. That Milo had…? Fury, of course. How could he have missed it? Milo’s skittishness, his avoidance of crowds, the way he picked his words so carefully. The way he eyed strangers like he expected them to attack.
Aymeric didn’t realize he was on his feet until he registered his hands shaking out his cloak.
“Time to be done with Haurchefant’s request, then?” Pike spoke wryly.
His thoughts were buzzing too loud in protest for Aymeric to do much more than glance Pike’s way before he was tying his cloak back into place. “Hm? Oh. I suppose so. Like I said, I am more than willing to call a truce. It is apparent how much you mean to Milo, and as I hope to mean something to him as well, I would not ever wish to deprive him of what little family he has found in this world.”
Pike’s eyes went wide. “Where are you going?”
“To find him,” Aymeric brushed himself down. “I owe him an apology. And some semblance of safety, I should think. To exist constantly in the hellscape of espionage without ever choosing to be a part of it… I can scarcely imagine. None should be forced to live in such fear. He should not have to suffer anything akin to it, if I have any say in the matter.”
Pike slid between Aymeric and the door, one hand held up to stop him. Aymeric blinked and slowed to a stop.
Aymeric waited for the other man to say his piece, to announce his disapproval, or whatever it was he wanted to get off his chest. Whatever it was, it paled in importance next to finding Milo.
“You truly believe that, don’t you?” Pike spoke quietly. His ears flattened and the same look of concern crossed his face as it had when he’d learned of Milo fighting Nidhogg. It faded to something like amusement. “How curious. Perhaps such a person exists indeed.”
More cryptic nonsense. Aymeric sighed loudly and looked pointedly towards the door.
“How exactly do you plan to find him, hm?” Pike raised an eyebrow. “As much of an idealist as you are, surely even you know that he doesn’t exactly answer his linkpearl.”
Aymeric scoffed. “Of course I know that. I know where he is.”
Pike’s eyebrows rocketed up to his hairline. “Oh?”
“Well,” Aymeric backtracked a little. “I am fairly certain. Should someone be overwhelmed by the nature of intrigue, then crowds would be immensely uncomfortable. However, sparsely populated areas might be even worse, no? Individual people are each identifiable without being able to blend into the anonymity of a crowd. It would be maddening. No, he would seek somewhere devoid of people entirely, that was likely to remain empty, but where he could also immediately see if this were to change. And hide, if he should need to.”
Pike nodded along slowly, his eyes widening more.
“Which would require a vantage point. A hostile environment that functions as a vantage point without any men or beasts? The dragon bones atop the tall mesas in central Coerthas would be my first choice.” Aymeric smiled as he reached for the door. He didn't strictly need to look back to see Pike looking begrudgingly impressed, but he did it anyways. Perhaps there was a chance he could still win over Milo's mentor. "But that's just a guess."
“For a guess,” Pike said, amused, "it's a pretty damn good one. Make sure to grab some of the candied pecans from the merchant outside on your way. He'll be hungry."