Chapter Text
Coerthas had, like much of Eorzea, been known for its temperate climate. Rolling green hills fed herds and herds of sheep, with wool being one of the most valued commodities of Ishgard. Now, Estinien frowned at the featureless white that blanketed his once green homeland as the blizzard raged around the tiny tent he shared with his two best friends. He had just received word from his foster father and master, Alberic, that he wished to pass on the title of Azure Dragoon. It meant he would be able to seek revenge against Nidhogg for his family's deaths, but it also meant leaving the Temple Knights. How was he going to tell Aymeric and Haurchefant?
Aymeric and he had become good friends after being the sole survivors of the Ever Lakes fiasco, and hunting down the wyrm that had destroyed their unit. When they had returned to Ishgard, they'd been introduced to Haurchefant Greystone of House Fortemps and the three, two bastards and a shepherd, had been inseparable. Now, it appeared the time they all knew would one day come had finally arrived, just 18 months after the Seventh Umbral Calamity had plunged Coerthas into an unending winter. Count Fortemps was planning to put Haurchefant in charge of the garrison at Camp Dragonhead after he recently saved the life of another nobleman, and now Estinien was being promoted to Azure Dragoon. What was next, Aymeric becoming Lord Commander?
Estinien heard the tent flap rustle and, as if summoned by his brooding, Aymeric emerged from the warm tent. “What in Fury's name are you doing standing out here in the snow, Estinien?”
Estinien sighed and wordlessly handed Aymeric the letter. He couldn't bear to meet that ice blue gaze right now. Why had Alberic decided to summon him back now, just as he'd finally figured out why it was so hard to be alone with his raven-haired friend. Seven hells, he didn't even know if Aymeric saw him the same, so what did it matter…
Aymeric's voice was subdued, sounding almost sad when he spoke again. “Oh…already? I had hoped that we might have a few more years yet.”
“Aye,” sighed Estinien, “it seems this unending winter does not agree with his old injuries and he would like to live out the rest of his days by a warm hearth. Did Haurchefant tell you of his letter as well?”
Aymeric sighed. “Aye. Seems I'll be the only one of us to remain in headquarters by Heavensturn. Perhaps it is well that we took this chance to get out of the city for a watch.”
Estinien nodded. “One last hurrah, as it were.”
Aymeric chuckled. “Nay, that shall be when we return. I'll have you both to the Manor to toast your promotions. Tonight, let us just get out of this miserable storm.”
As they re-entered the tent, Haurchefant looked up from where he was dishing up the stew that Aymeric had been making. “What were you two whispering about out there?”
Aymeric smiled. “Estinien has received a letter from home. It seems you are not the only one getting promoted, Haurchefant.”
Haurchefant laughed. “Ah, is our broody friend being promoted to Azure Dragoon or something?” When neither man responded, he looked back and forth between them, levity leaving his voice in exchange for wonder. “Surely not?! Why, that is fantastic news, Estinien. This calls for celebration indeed!”
Estinien struggled to find joy in the news of their imminent parting, yet Haurchefant's enthusiasm could not help but tug his lips into a small smile. Still, he knew the smile did not reach his eyes as he took the bowl Haurchefant handed him. He stole a glance at Aymeric and saw that the man's expression mirrored his own. It was oddly comforting to know that he was not alone in feeling this news was bittersweet. He was startled from his reverie when Haurchefant crowed victoriously from where he had been digging through his pack.
“Ah HAH, found it!” He held aloft a sealed bottle of Lominsan Champagne. “I had a feeling we might need this.”
Aymeric barked out a laugh. “Leave it to Haurchefant to bring liquor on patrol.”
Haurchefant frowned. “Not just any liquor, 1561 Green Bacchus Champagne.”
“Truly?! Where did you get your hands on Coronation Champagne?” Aymeric gasped in shock before closing the distance to inspect the bottle while Estinien looked on in confusion.
“Coronation Champagne?”
“Ah, right, you're more of a whiskey and beer man.” Aymeric looked over at Estinien. “This particular wine was casked the same year the Sultana was Coronated, with the grapes having been picked when my father…my birth father…was made Archbishop. It's why it's called Coronation Champagne. It's a very rare and unusually delicious wine.”
Haurchefant grinned. “I saved my wages for half a year to buy this bottle from my father for this very occasion. Come, let us properly toast our good fortune, and pray to Halone that Aymeric receives similar accolades!”
Haurchefant popped the cork and poured them each a little to sip while they ate. Estinien wasn't overly fond of wine, but this one wasn't as bad as others that Aymeric had insisted were delicious. It was mild, fruity, and extremely fizzy, with a rich undertone he could not place. Still, he would prefer a good whiskey any day. The three laughed jovially about everything and nothing into the wee hours as the storm raged outside their tent. Soon, wine-warmed and well fed, they decided to turn in for the night. Thank Halone for the fire crystal heaters that the Temple Knights had commissioned from the Haillenarte Manufactory.
Even with the lamp out, Estinien found sleep elusive. What should he do about his feelings for Aymeric? Should he confess and accept the consequences? After all, the Church of the Holy See was fairly harsh on same-sex coupling. Or should he just bury them, and let them fade as the coming distance between them would surely allow? He had wrestled with these feelings long enough, surely he could handle a little longer. Yet, whenever he closed his eyes, all he could see was Aymeric.
With a frustrated huff, he rolled to his side again, facing into the tent. His cot was across from Aymeric's as always and he found his eyes tracing every lock of raven hair on his friend's head as he listened to him breathe. Fury, he was absolutely lost, head over heels in love with his friend and at a total loss as to how to handle it. He was so tangled up in his thoughts, it took him a moment to realize that Aymeric had rolled over and was meeting his gaze. When he did, he felt a blush crawl across his cheeks and up his ears. Hopefully it wouldn't be visible in the mostly dark tent.
“Can't sleep?” mouthed Aymeric. Estinien shook his head. “Me either. Walk?”
Estinien nodded and they both rose, donning boots and warm coats silently in hopes of not waking Haurchefant where he was snoring softly at the back of the tent. They both stepped outside the tent and trudged a short distance off to lean against a tree, watching the stars drift by beyond the clearing clouds.
“Not often you can't sleep,” Estinien mused, handing Aymeric a strip of the dried fruit he kept in his jacket.
“Got a lot on my mind.” Aymeric accepted the snack happily and took a bite.
“Well, I'm not sure if I can give much counsel, but you know I'm always willing to listen.” Perhaps listening to Aymeric's worries could distract him from his own.
Aymeric sighed. “There's someone I've fallen for, but I've been keeping my feelings to myself for several reasons. Our relationship would be difficult even during peacetime, let alone with my father waging an all-out holy war on Nidhogg's brood.”
So he had someone he liked. As heartbreaking as it was to hear, Estinien was glad to hear it before he made a fool of himself. “This war has been fought for generations, so it can't be the only thing holding you back.”
“It's not,” Aymeric confirmed. “There are other…variables…that would cause social and political pressures as well.”
Ah, so the lucky woman was not Elezen or Noble. Estinien could see why the young nobleman would struggle with that.
“But now, it looks as though we might be separated for longer periods of time than before, and I cannot decide if I should confess, or let the feeling wither on the vine. I'm not even sure that my feelings are reciprocated.”
Estinien smirked. “Alas, that is a feeling I know all too well. If you find a solution to the conundrum, do tell me. I was also restless due to a similar struggle.”
Aymeric smiled, the amusement on his face a facade as he tried desperately to keep the pain and disappointment from his voice. “Really? You? Infatuated and unable to decide? That is quite unlike you.”
Estinien huffed. “Yes, well, like you, the object of my affection has given me no sign of interest, and there are potential issues for me as well, especially when I take up the mantle. I also cannot decide whether to confess before we are separated by duty or to remain silent and pray they find happiness with someone else.”
Aymeric looked puzzled. “You have no expectations from your station. What could possibly…Ooooooh.” Aymeric leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper. “Is she a heretic?”
Estinien barked out a laugh. “Nay, the one I love is quite faithful.” He leaned in to whisper in the same tone, “No, the problem is that she is actually a he. ”
Aymeric blinked. “Truly? But you have always…”
Estinien shook his head with a rueful smile. “Aye, it did surprise me too. But I have not spoken of it to anyone save you, for very good reason. I am unsure of how he feels, or if he even would be interested in another man. He’s also a noble, and I'm now fairly certain his eye is on another, so perhaps it is for the best if I don't confess. After all, you know how the inquisitors handle such affairs.”
Aymeric looked away, trying to hide the pain in his eyes under the pretense of eating some more of the fruit leather. “Aye, I am keenly aware of it.” So, Estinien also was pining for someone. Another nobleman at that. Surely it was someone he knew. “So, what is this nobleman that you are so fond of like? Perhaps I have met him.”
Estinien smirked at the irony of the question. “Aye, you certainly have, my friend. As for what he is like, he is fierce in combat but gentle in his daily life. He is strong, but uses that strength to build more than to destroy. His looks are quite elegant and his eyes are striking. He's also likely the most eligible bachelor among the High Houses, though I doubt he knows it.” Estinien found himself lost in the moment and the gentle buzz of the earlier wine as he sat with his back against the tree and continued, oddly heedless of who he was speaking with.
“He is a gifted orator, yet does not speak anything unimportant. He is fond of sweets and tea, prefers birch syrup to honey, is a talented dancer and a decent cook. His skill with words is matched by his skills with both blade and bow.”
Aymeric slid down the tree trunk to sit beside Estinien, rapt as he listened to his silver-haired friend describe the man he loved. For Estinien to be so verbose in praise of another was a rare sight indeed.
“His handwriting is immaculate and I love his poetry. I truly believe that one day, he will be a strong and charismatic leader, whom men will choose to follow happily. He is the kind of man who will build Ishgard into a more equitable place for all, and I want to protect that future for him.”
Aymeric stopped breathing. A memory rose to the surface of his mind from a few months back. The three of them had been putting in an appearance at a knighting ceremony for a new member of the Temple Knights and had been making snide comments about some of the less personable officers. At that time, Estinien had leaned over and whispered “I think that one day, you will be a strong and charismatic leader, whom men will choose to follow happily.”
Halone's frozen breath, Estinien was talking about him .
Estinien sighed as he took another bite of his fruit leather. “And what about you, Aymeric? What is this lover like that worries over confessing would keep you from your rest?”
Aymeric swallowed hard, trying to figure out how to articulate all of the thoughts racing through his head. Estinien had praised his way with words, yet in this moment, they failed him. Finally, the response that rose to his lips was merely a whispered “It's you.”
Estinien looked over at Aymeric, uncertain that he had heard him right. “What?”
Aymeric closed his eyes tightly, summoning the courage to press on. “The person I love, the one I am so terrified of losing and so terrified of causing harm by being with…is you, Estinien. I didn't know if you felt the same, but now that I do, I'm less afraid, and can finally tell you.” Aymeric opened his eyes and looked over at Estinien with a gentle smile. “You're the reason I can't sleep tonight. You're the one I love.”
Estinien’s breath caught in his throat and his heart hammered against his chest. “Truly? But how could you tell…”
“Did you forget that you made that ‘charismatic leader’ comment to me at the knighting ceremony a few moons back? Or did you just think I would have forgotten?”
Estinien blushed. “I-I didn’t think you would have remembered…”
Aymeric reached over and took Estinien’s hand. “I remember everything you say, darling dragoon. As I recall, you were the one who kept forgetting my name at first.”
Estinien chuckled. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”
“Never…ever.” Aymeric’s tone was gentle and affectionate as he leaned in until he was a mere breath away from Estinien’s face. “May I kiss you, my dear dragoon?” Aymeric’s whisper puffed against Estinien’s lips as their hearts pounded under the starry sky. In response, Estinien closed the distance himself and in that instant, all else faded away. The chill of the wind, the tang of newfallen snow, the damp pine needles beneath them…none of it intruded on the sweet moment of a tender kiss shared between lovers that had slowly come together over so many years.
Soon, the storm darkened the sky anew and they were forced to abandon their fervent kisses in favor of returning to the warm tent. As they made their way back, lips bruised and walking hand-in-hand, Estinien sighed. “This is bad, I don't want to let go of you.”
Aymeric chuckled. “Me either. And how are we going to tell Haurchefant?”
“Perhaps we shouldn't, at least for now. He'll pick up on it eventually, and we can come clean then, but loathe as I am to admit it, we should keep this as quiet as possible for now.”
Aymeric nodded. “Fury would my sire be incensed if the rumors of my peerage were joined by rumors of my ‘depravity.’ He might just have a heart attack right there on his throne.”
This thought brought the first genuine laugh Estinien had heard from Aymeric all night. He could live in that laugh. “Fury, how did I get so blessed?”
Aymeric blushed a bit. “I'm not sure what either of us did to deserve this blessing, but I'm not keen to question it. I'm too happy.” Aymeric stopped as he remembered something Estinien had said when extolling his virtues. “Hey, what's this about liking my poetry? You always said it was awful!”
Estinien laughed. “Neither is a lie. Your poems are horrid, lacking proper rhythm or a halfway decent rhyme.” Estinien pulled Aymeric to him, holding him close. “But they are a true expression of your heart, and for that, I love them.” He leaned over and kissed Aymeric, who chuckled.
“Who would have guessed you, of all people, to be gifted with a silver tongue, Darling.” Aymeric pushed away with a smile. “Come on, let's get inside before we both freeze.”
The next morning, as they were packing up to head back, Haurchefant couldn't help but notice the shift in mood. “The two of you seem to be in much better spirits than you were last night. Did something good happen while I was asleep?”
Haurchefant noticed as both of his friends froze for a split second before Aymeric responded. “The sun is out, we're each beginning to realize our dreams, and Ishgard calls us home. What is there to be sad about?”
Haurchefant smirked. “What indeed?” The way the two were shooting glances at each other from time to time made him suspicious. What had they talked about on that walk?
He had to admit to his own sadness that the trio would be separating, as they had been inseparable since before the Calamity. He cared for them both, quite a bit more than was strictly moral by the standards of the holy writ. Still, it was good to see them truly smiling again. Smiles better suited heroes like them. He'd always known that the two of them were destined for greater things than he was, and as much as he wished he could be by their sides as they pursued loftier heights, he was just blessed to be able to be a knight and serve his people. He could support them from afar if that was his fate.
By the time they entered the Arc of the Triumphant, night was falling once more. They reported in to the Congregation and were relieved of duty just in time for the bells of the Cathedral to toll ten. Haurchefant cursed. “Seven hells, if I don't get straight home, Father will have my hide for breakfast. I'll have to take a raincheck on that drink, my friends.”
Aymeric smiled. “Go on, then, and give the Count our best.” It was so easy for them to forget that Haurchefant was a mere 24 summers old, a full 4 years their junior, save at times like these. His maturity far outweighed his years, but there were still expectations of the second son of House Fortemps to be home at a decent hour. Aymeric smiled at Estinien as they left the Congregation. “You'll still be joining me, I hope?”
Estinien's smile spoke of kisses under a frosty pine. “Of course. Is your butler still down with that cold?”
Aymeric blushed a little, glad for the darkness that blanketed the streets they roamed. “Aye, so we'll have no one save the cat to interrupt our…drinking.”
They both knew that alcohol would not be what they would be getting drunk on.