#aymeric: hello my love how was your trip to doma?

[blackestnight]

19. What values do they not share? How do they reconcile those differences?

my facetious answer is "a fantasy police chief married a murder-happy vigilante assassin, so everything, and they don't," but a) the latter half of heavensward is a pretty good indication that aymeric is only lawful in the sense of sticking to his own moral code, and b) it's me so of course i have a long answer

the thing is a lot of their core values are exactly the same: they value personal freedom over state power, and painful truth over regimes built on harm. the big difference is how they go about enforcing those values. with the exception of The Time He Staged A Coup, aymeric would rather work from within the law to change it, whereas hanami's first reflex is to burn the whole thing down and start over. aymeric doesn't necessarily agree with her usual modus operandi—while he recognizes the need for it, especially in cases of imminent danger to herself or to bystanders—and he can't exactly argue with her results thus far. hanami is of the opinion that aymeric's way is too slow and coddles too many self-important tyrants who need a good beating in a dark alley, which is why she doesn't get involved in ishgardian politics. or politics in general. most people know better by now than to invite her to stuffy meetings.

hanami: fuck the temple knights sidurgu: you literally married the lord commander hanami: yeah, i said i fuck him

most of it boils down to the fact that aymeric values the comfort and emotional wellbeing of people outside his immediate social circle, such as The General Ishgardian Populace, whereas hanami does not give a damn. basically every storyline he's been in since the end of 3.0 has been "how can i ensure this transition to a brand new form of government and complete uprooting of the foundations of our national faith doesn't entirely upset the mental states of the entire coerthan population," where as hanami is like "lol why bother." as far as she's concerned, emotional discomfort has never killed anyone.

you'd think endwalker would make her eat her words a bit, but you'd be wrong, as she is still a raging bitch (affectionate) who delights in scaring the pants off any priest she looks at.

at the very least, hanami makes an active effort to curb some of her, uh, nastier impulses, particularly where civilians are concerned. aymeric compromises by listening to her vent in private, and by turning a blind eye to her dark knight moonlighting where he has to. he trusts her judgement, even if he can't always officially condone her actions. maybe not the healthiest thing but they make it work.

also, i don't know if i'd classify it as a clash in values, but: religion. aymeric's overdue for a crisis of faith and hanami has made it clear that that sucks, and she understands he's having a rough time, but please do not try to talk to her about it, it'll open a whole can of vipers that she has been burying deep in her psyche for many years regarding her own trauma and disconnect from her family's faith, please just go get drunk and talk to lucia, i cannot help you, you do not want me to try, i'll make you tea after.

[efrmellifer]

A Family in Starlight

Etien wandered the Jeweled Crozier, lost in her thoughts, but sweeping her gaze back and forth from stall to stall, still searching for the perfect gift.

The Fortemps had been fairly easy to find gifts for, Estinien was easy to shop for this go around (miraculously), but Etien was struggling with what might possibly be the gift that should have been the easiest.

Maybe she had played her hand too early with the hand-knit blanket last year.

The Starlight after she had met Aymeric, she’d given him a fancy quill and ink (and he still had the quill on his desk at home, which she had been thrilled to discover). The second, a rather quiet Starlight in the new thick of the Dragonsong War, she had given him a scarf matching the one she’d gotten early in her time in Coerthas—his was blue, instead of the green hers was, but salt and pepper shakers didn’t look the exact same either, she figured. Their third, she had sent a glazed teaset from Doma. Perhaps not the ideal gift from a new wife to her husband, but it was the easiest thing to pick up and send along in relative secret. For all intents and purposes, she was just sending him something related to a common interest.

And then last year, she’d finally completed the blanket depicting Ishgard, and handed it over at the end of the festivities, when it was just them in the house again.

This year, she had no clue what he might like or need.

She stopped in her tracks, blinking as she finally put words to the problem she was having, asking herself—what do you buy for the man who wanted so little, and gave you everything?

He’d lavished books and lavender honey and silk flowers on her, last year’s gift of finery in the satin dress and sapphire earrings topping them all.

They’d both hit a peak last year. She had no idea if he was going to outstrip himself again. She had no idea if she could do the same.

She ran her fingers over a painted carving of a couple, the pair dancing or embracing. She hadn’t looked well enough to read the movement implied in the woodwork. But she hadn’t looked because Aymeric had no need for decor items, for trinkets and baubles.

But then, she’d never really been massively fond of giving solely utilitarian gifts. Even if he needed armor polish, it had all the personal touch of anticipating his needs, and none of the affection of giving him a gift. She could just buy him whatever he needed; a holiday gift was supposed to be a little luxurious. Wasn’t it?

She shook her head. Gods, old habits died hard.

How long had it been since she’d left Alder Springs, and yet she still felt the same upsets and bitterness rising up right on schedule? But she had no reason to let that sadness that seeped into her every Starlight happen this year. Nor the guilt that was already clinging to her skirts and crawling up her arms.

It was going to be a restful night in the company of loved ones—likely the same company as last year. She wasn’t disobeying the midwife, she wasn’t disobeying her duty, she wasn’t… rather, she was simply spending the holiday at home.

It seemed she was still fighting herself about ‘home.’

She sighed. Whether it was the manor, a shack in the highlands, or a houseboat just off Vylbrand, at the core of it, home was just anywhere Etien could be with Aymeric.

And where she could be visited by everyone else she loved. So maybe not the houseboat.

With another shake of her head, she kept walking. Now that she thought of it, she was still working on the receiving blankets for the kits, but those were a hardly a good gift for their father.

It didn’t matter. She was just about ready to give up for the day. After all, all the time she was supposed to spend outdoors was nearly up, and she was getting cold besides.  

She sat down with a sigh. Maybe it was better to simply be empty-handed, to admit that things had gotten away from her and now she had nothing to give Aymeric for the holiday. It had been sort of a slow whirlwind for a while now.

However. Luck happened to be on Etien’s side, because as she cast her gaze around her one last time, they lit on the wood carving again.

The couple depicted wasn’t just any couple. Now, Etien recognized several types and cuts of wood bonded together to create the piece, as well a botanist like herself should have. Even from where she sat, she could discern the oak, carved into auburn curls and a sinuous tail, the complementary part stained black for the familiar inky waves.

And oh, that shade of blue.

If only she had looked sooner, she could have saved so much time.

She trotted over to the stand, nearly tripping over herself and her skirts before she came to a stop.

“Hello!” She called. “How much for the carving of the couple?”

“Oh, this one, Lovers for the Sky?” the artisan asked, running his fingers over its edge. “Well, considering how hard I worked to get the wood to fuse, and the cost of the stains required…” he looked up. “My lady.”

Etien beamed. “It’s beautiful. I think—” she paused. “My husband will like it, too. How much?”

When he quoted a price, she handed over the money immediately, eager to compensate him for such skilled work.

As she tucked it into her bag, she exhaled with a spark of satisfaction, looking up into the shockingly blue sky. Well, that had been a surprise on several levels. She hadn’t realized they were quite so famous as to be depicted in art already. But she was thrilled that she had managed to find a gift at the very last second.

She picked up a pair of gloves for a more useful gift, and headed home.

It was peculiar, now (and always, speaking truthfully), for Etien to be the one coming home later, but she did love the feeling of calling out for Aymeric, to tell him she was home.

As she kicked off her boots, her ears tilted toward the sound of footsteps, and she smiled.

“Hello, darling,” she cooed as Aymeric stepped into her peripheral vision.

He bent to kiss her. “How was the Crozier?”

“Surprisingly not busy.” She rubbed at her eye, carefully placing down her bag so it didn’t clatter too obviously and allowing Aymeric to help her ease her coat from her shoulders. “I suppose everyone else already did their shopping. Before you ask, yes I managed to get everything on the list.”

“I would hope so, you were gone a little longer than I would have anticipated. Did you get stuck discussing prices?”

“No, luckily. I was doing a little last-minute Starlight gift shopping.”

“Ah. About Starlight.”

Etien stopped moving, looking up at him. “Hmm? What about it?”

“Tomorrow evening, I invited some people over—the same as last year, though Lucia is coming this time, as well. That is, if it won’t be too much for you.”

“No, I’ll get my tail shaking on getting everything ready.”

Aymeric ran his hand down from the part of her hair and over her cheek. “No, love, all that can be handled by others. I want you to rest. Put your feet up, take some deep breaths.”

She stammered. “But last year--”

“Last year, you were sick. This year, you happen to be in a differently delicate state. I want you to enjoy the holiday, not work yourself sick over it. Especially after all you did in Gridania.”

She looked away. “They needed me.”

“All of Eorzea does, it seems,” he sighed. “In any event, speaking of enjoying the holiday, would you object too terribly if I gave you your gift now?”

“Not too terribly,” Etien replied with a grin, bending her knees and leaning (much like a dhalmel) to pick her bag up again. “But I’d like to give you yours first.”

“All right,” Aymeric replied, straightening up. “Do I need to shut my eyes?”

She giggled. “No, no.” She handed over the gloves first.

“This is very nice leather,” he commented, wiggling his hand into one of the pair. “These should do nicely for the days off I’m almost certainly going to be made to take in the next few moons. Thank you.”

“Oh, I’m not done,” she responded with both a smile and a scoff, pulling the carving out of her bag, wrapped as it was in thin paper. “It’s not wrapped for the season or anything, but then it seems nothing I give you ever is.”

Tilting his head with curiosity, Aymeric brushed aside the paper, letting it fall, fluttering, to the ground. Etien watched as his eyes traced the contours of the wood.

“It’s… us,” he said finally. “Was this another custom-made piece, like the teacup?”

“I was as surprised as you are. I looked around the Crozier, and then suddenly, my gaze landed on this. I don’t know how he captured the way you lift me so impeccably well.”

“I did tell you those moments would go down in history. It seems they are already being recorded.”

“Oh, you think it’s… after Thordan?”  Etien’s ears flattened for a moment, slowly rising again as Aymeric spoke.

“How many other times have I picked you up in public?” He paused, laughing to himself. “All right, it was more than once.”

She giggled, too. “Right. Either way, I thought it might be nice on the mantel, or on your desk.”

“Here, or at the Congregation?”

She shrugged. “Wherever you want the reminder.”

“Well, I have you here,” he murmured, thumb drifting over the marking on her cheekbone.

Her eyes closed slowly as she leaned into his touch. “You do.”

“Allow me to go retrieve your gift, Etien, I shall be right back. Go put your feet up.” It was gentle, but Aymeric wasn’t having any argument, so Etien wandered to the usual loveseat, drawing the ottoman under her feet.

“Good girl,” he intoned when he came into the room, proffering a box.

“Oh, you always make the gifts look so nice, and I just hand over unwrapped items,” she grumbled.

“And they always blow me away. I can only hope the pageantry of the paper impresses you to set the stage for the gift inside it.”

“It does, it’s lovely paper,” she told him, patting his leg before she tore the pine-branch-patterned wrapping away. “Oh! They’re slippers?”

“Your usual house slippers are getting worn out,” he explained, “and you need something a little gentler on your feet as the children keep growing.”

Her eyebrows drew together, pitching up. “Aww. That’s very thoughtful.”

“But,” Aymeric produced a box from his pocket, “I didn’t just cover your needs, dearest, I also got something you might want.”

Etien opened the box to find a strand of pearls, a sapphire pendant dangling from the center.

“It completes the set with the earrings,” he offered.

“Even if it didn’t, I’d love it,” she replied, throwing her arms around him. “I forgot to grab the string of them I left in the Shroud when I went back. I’m thrilled to have some again.”

He rubbed her back. “Oh, thank Halone, I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about them.”

She sniffled. “Thank you, Aymeric. It’s lovely.”

He draped the strand around her neck, shifting her hair so he could clasp it in the back. “It looks even better on you.” He sat back, and ran his finger over Etien’s wedding ring. “My mother never wore a lot of jewelry, so I’m glad we’ll have some for—for Betula, when she’s older.”

“And art for the other?”

Aymeric laughed lightly, “Perhaps we can ask that artisan to carve the children, when we have finally seen them. That might be nice to give them later on.”

Etien nodded. “The whole family, committed to oak carvings.”

“If only we could get Alphinaud to paint us.”

“Could be that if we buy him the materials, he will. Now is as good a time as any,” she said with a shrug.

“Perhaps a year when we’ve decorated, a Starlight portrait where we all of us look our best. Though I suppose if that were the only criterion, you’re already prepared for it.”

With a snort, she swiped at him weakly. “Flattery, ser? You choose flattery?”

“I choose to tell my wife she’s beautiful.” He kissed her cheek.

“And I choose to tell my husband that I love him for saying so. And a thousand other reasons.” She snuggled closer to him. “Happy Starlight, Aymeric.”

“Happy Starlight, Etien.” He laid a hand on her stomach. “And to you two. Or more. I love you as well.”

“What a gift,” she mused.