#estinien wrymblood

[matoyaa]

[rainbowdoom32]

In insane crossovers that live rent free in my head, I am obsessed with the idea of Estinien Wyrmblood from FFXIV getting isekaid into being the inquisitor in Dragon Age.

The fact that Estinien's height would blow the mind of every person in Thedas. The fact that Estinien doesn't understand money. He would try to talk to every dragon. The frustration with the lack of technology. The complete inability to understand mage discrimination because he comes from a society where NOT being able to do magic is a disability.

The way Solas would just make sense. Like the being a fraction of a person because yeah Estinien is that.

Trying to befriend demons because he has a friend that is a voidsent.

Just NOT getting the insult when people call him knife ear or rabbit. It would just go over his head.

The fact that the chabtry would both make sense to him and also how he just would not care at all.

It's just funny.

[tallbluelady]

Cocoa/Comfort Food

The chaos surrounding Camp Broken Glass finally seemed to have settled after Rowan returned and Zenos cravenly vanished with his pet Ascian. Estinien found Thancred after making his patrol around the camp to secure it.

"Where's Rowan?" Estinien asked. "I haven't seen her since she returned."

"She's holed up in Lucia's office. I can't say I blame her after that dirty stunt Zenos pulled..." Thancred muttered.

"Is Urianger with her? She shouldn't be alone right now."

"Alas, that seemeth to be her wish..." Urianger said, looking the most downtrodden Estinien had ever seen him. The man had been... well, he fit right in the scholar's realm of Sharlyan. Despite his eccentricities, there was always a light of hope or wit in his eyes. Now though...

"Is she alone alone?" Thancred asked, worried.

"Mistress Alisaie yet watcheth the door. Due to her insistence, Rowan hath acquiesed to tying a string to her wrist so any movement may be detected, but she has yet to move."

"That's smart but not foolproof," Thancred said. "And on top of that, this is still the best time to attack the damned tower."

Estinien crossed his arms. "If Rowan's not ready, she's not ready."

"I would fain remove her from the conflict entirely, but I know that shalt cause her more harm than good. But mine overtures to provide comfort at this time hath all been rebuffed," he sighed, deflating further. "She recoiled at my touch."

Estinien grimaced sympathetically, and Thancred gave the same look. That was an awfully familiar act. "She probably doesn't trust her body yet. That its hers again," Thancred said. "And she didn't wake up into it. Suddenly she was just back. The shock must be jarring." "Has she eaten yet?" Estinien asked. Urianger shook his head. "Nay, and we have yet to offer aught more than water after she was retching."

"I have some of her mother's mun tuy. Familiar food helped me return to some level of normalcy after I was rid of Nidhogg's influence."

Thancred nodded. "Though I am questioning your acquisition of such food, your theory is sound. Let's try that first."

The three of them made it to Lucia's office and found Alisaie sitting on the floor in front of the door.

"She hasn't said a word yet," the young woman said quietly. "But she kept the string tied as far as I can tell.'

Urianger tapped on the door. "Rowan, my love, wouldst thou care to eat something? Estinien claimeth to carry some of thy mother's mun-tuy."

Alisaie's hand moved up and they all backed from the door. Rowan's eyes looked bloodshot and angry. "I had been looking for those... Did you steal those pots from the Rising Stones before we left for Sharlyan?"

"I did," Estinien said candidly. "But I am willing to give them back if you'll talk to someone."

"I don't want to talk."

"Then just listen."

Rowan eyes darted from Estinien's to Urianger's, then to the floor. "I -I..."

"We'll keep him company, Rowan," Thancred volunteered, and Alisaie nodded.

She mouthed the words "I'm sorry" and held the door open for Estinien.

Estinen entered and didn't bother with any promises to anyone. He just handed Rowan the pot of mun-tuy and a spoon. She waited, listening for the footsteps to fade away before opening the pot.

"I'm sorry that happened to you," Estinien said, leaning against the wall.

Rowan nodded and helped herself to a heaping spoonful of the bean paste. Tension melted from her as she ate. "Thank the gods, it tastes the same."

"Twas surprising for me as well. And quite the relief."

She nodded and continued to eat.

"It was truly remarkable how quickly everything returned. Once my body recovered from your beating, I felt like myself again. And that was the strangest part of it all."

She gave a hum but said nothing.

"Because how could it be so easy? My body, my heart? They were Nidhogg's. I only had a scant sense of self holding on, not letting him kill me. I would not die. And after all that, life just became simple again. Because of you and Alphinaud and Aymeric."

"My body's fine," Rowan muttered. "More than fine. That's the worst part. Are they cremating that soldier's body yet?"

"You know how much fuel it takes to build a proper pyre."

"If we had destroyed Zenos' damn body at the Menagerie we wouldn't be in this mess. But no, I had to let people remind me who the real savage was... I should've just burnt it then, the Hells to propriety and savagery."

"And I shouldn't have held both Eyes."

Rowan gave a snort. "I already berated you for that."

"Aye, that you did," he said. "And I'll berate you for beating yourself black and blue for the minor sins being yourself and being overtaken by Ascian magicks."

She scraped at the side of the pot. "He could have killed you all. In my body. Mayhap even in his body."

"But he didn't. I wouldn't have let him, and you stopped him before he even got close."

"Would you have killed my body if I hadn't been able to stop him?" The look in her eye told him she wanted the answer to be yes.

Estinien paused. Could he have killed Rowan then? She wasn't as strong as he was physically, but twas her resolve that brought her victory time and time again. "I would not have held back."

She nodded, satisfied. "Tis a hard thing to work through that kind of manipulation, and the Ascians seem rather fond of it. Fandaniel's much more effective at it than Elidibus was, but... I can see an end in sight."

"An end?"

"We take out that damned tower and the Primal inside of it. Something else will surely rise, I'm certain of it... but that's a goal that's in sight."

"Are you going to talk to Urianger before we go?"

Rowan's eyes turned to the floor. "One step, then the other. We had to get to Azyz Lla before we stopped the Archbishop, remember? He'll understand."

Estinien understood that sentiment well enough and followed Rowan out of the office.

[yukiotacon]

Maid dungeon ( Estinien edition)

Will get jealous if anyone stares at you for too long

His possessiveness was so great he out aggroed the tank

Estinien unleashed his pent up jealousy and horny out on the mobs

* Using doctor voice* It' seems your grumpy dragoon is suffering from new kink syndrome. The only cure is bed room time

Unfortunately/ Fortunately for you your grumpy dragoon decides to carry you over his shoulder

He roughly drops you on your shared bed and pins you

Estinien is definitely going to lay claim to you like a dragon over his horde

Yeah, you aren't going to be walking for a while.

Not to mention, expect your maid outfit to be in need of repairs

[foxlin-fantasia]

>> 4 ; ffxiv write - Reticent

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Summary: Two restless souls met under a stained glass window one night, each looking for answers.

>> ao3 link <<

<< (prev.) || (next) >>

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[unbloomingmoonflower]

"Always at your rescue when you least realize..."

[ayakamizu]

FFXIV Write 2024 Day 20 - Duel

Duel: Noun. A prearranged combat between two persons, fought with deadly weapons according to an accepted code of procedure, especially to settle a private quarrel. Characters: Aymeric de Borel, Estinien Wyrmblood Expansion: Pre-ARR (technically) Rating: G Notes: Takes place pre-canon. Short moment between Aymeric and Estinien back when they were Temple Knights. Can be read as Estimeric if you want! No spoilers otherwise. Sometimes you gotta defend your friend's honor because people suck.

“That was incredibly foolish,” Aymeric scolded, digging through the pile of supplies spread out across the bed. Outside the door, the infirmary bustled with life.

Estinien tried moving, a low growl rumbling in his throat. “Save me the lecture, Aymeric.” 

Blue eyes met his gray, peering up at him through those dark bangs. Exasperation and frustration were clear as day, but for whom those feelings were directed towards wasn’t as clear. Estinien had an idea though—it wasn’t like this situation was an uncommon occurrence.

Though the fact that Estinien involved himself was uncommon.

“He had it coming,” Estinien grumbled, looking away. “The things he said—”

“Was nothing new. I have heard those things my whole life,” Aymeric interrupted. “Even when my parents tried to shield me from them, they never went away.” The defeated tone in his voice made Estinien want to shake him.

“Still doesn’t mean he didn’t have it coming.” And I’d do it again was left unsaid. There was no point in speaking aloud something Aymeric knew. “If they’re expecting me to apologize to—”

“No, the Commander understood the situation,” Aymeric said, directing Estinien to lift his arm up. While the cut was shallow, it still needed to be wrapped. “In accordance with Ishgardian tradition, your duel was a matter of honor. No disciplinary actions will be taken.”

A matter of defending Aymeric’s honor from Ser Gaussant’s slanderous words. In truth, Estinien had been too angry at the man’s claims regarding Aymeric’s birth and insinuations to care about the finer details. It hadn’t mattered that the knight was their senior—in both rank and age—when Estinien saw the way Aymeric flinched, his smile dropping from his face as the man’s (loud) gossip filled their corner of the dining hall. The smug look on his face when he caught Aymeric’s reaction certainly didn’t help either. His body moved on instincts, getting up from their table and challenging the man then and there.

Boosted by his peers' goading and the knowledge that he got under Aymeric’s skin had made the man accept. Unfortunately for him, his opponent was Estinien and the match ended in his favor. Ser Gaussant had gotten one good hit in (the shallow cut that adorned his arm), but Estinien sent him flat on his arse. His lancework was no match for a Dragoon of Estinien’s caliber.

“Just try to be more careful,” Aymeric conceded in the end, satisfied with the bandages. “We cannot have you sending our fellow knights to the infirmary when there are dragons to fight.”

If they couldn’t handle a fight against their fellow man, then what good would they be in front of a dragon? “I will if people are more careful with their words around you.” Despite the seriousness of his words, that earned a chuckle from Aymeric.

“I suppose that is the best I will get.”

[yzeltia]

FFXIVwrite2024 17. Sally

Featuring: @erickgage 's Erick Gage. Allusion to @driftward 's Zoisette Vauban Characters: Sally, U'rahn Nuhn, Violet Fisher, Thancred Waters, Alisaie Leveilleur, Alphinaud Leveilleur, Jullus pyr Norbanus, Estinien Wrymblood, Krile Baldesion, G'raha Tia, Y'shtola Rhul, Jannie Eyradoux Fortemps, Artriole Fortemps, Haurchefaunt Fortemps Rating: T Summary: The Scions and friends mourn the loss of one of their own. Notes: Used lines from Funeral Blues by W.H. Auden

U’rahn swallowed as he looked at the crowd out familiar, yet sad faces, adjusting his tie briefly before leaning into the podium checking in with Y’shtola as she tended to the one most aggrieved by the loss as she sat stunned.  Getting a nod that it was time, he cleared his throat and began. “Thank you all for coming today. We all loved Sally dearly. She was the most faithful of companions and a true Scion in her own right. I do not have the words to describe the loss we will feel in our lives without her, but I know we collectively have fond memories of her and invite those who have one they’d like to share to come up and take the stage.

Violet shifted, looking over her shoulders to see if anyone else would be brave enough to go first. “Oh swive me,” he muttered under her breath before standing and relieving U’rahn of the mic. “Sally was always dependable. She saw me through so many…many mistakes and at one time, saved me from ruining a good friendship…”

Violet stretched in the cramped hull of the ship, careful not to knock her hand against the metal interior with her bottle of ale. Across from her, Thancred nursed his own bottle, still shaken from the revelations of the Word of the Mother. This little excursion, Violet had thought, was a good means to get him to forget. At the very least he was in a safe controlled environment where he could get it out of his system.

Eyeing his goatee, she grunted then straddled his lap, tilting his chin up with a finger. “I really hate this thing. When are you going to shave it,” she asked with a smirk.

“Haven’t heard a complaint from a lady yet,” Thancred responded gruffly, wobbling his head as he tried to move from her finger.

“I’m a lady,” Violet said, raising her brow.

“Ne’er knew a lady to say ‘swiven’ was her favorite word,” Thancred growled.

“Word. Expletive. Adjective. Verb,” Violet listed.

Thancred jerked his head away then held Violet by the small of her back as he sat up. “A regular grammar dictionary are you now?”

Violet flushed, finding his head pressed against her breasts as he embraced her. They’d always exchanged innuendos, yet always as careful banter as he’d had eyes for only Minfilia…perhaps not eyes, but definitely his heart. Now she was gone and Violet even tipsy could sense the loneliness. Frowning, she stroked through his hair, pulling his head back a bit as she gazed down into his eyes.

Her heart raced a moment, their gaze locked. Shyly, she leaned forward, drawing her face in before being lurched off Thancred’s lap as they ran aground. “Swiven hells,” she huffed, getting up to go see what they’d found. Finding themselves running along a sandbar, she raked her hair back then focused on getting them back on course.

“Sorry,” Thancred mumbled from behind, leaning forward to make sure they were free of the obstacle.

“Don’t mention it. Ever,” Violet said, face still flushed. “Why don’t you get us some water? Maybe we talk about Minfilia and Lousioux and drown our sorrows in memory instead.”

Violet drummed her fingers on the side of the podium for a moment then shook her head. “Anyway. She was beautiful and she’ll be missed,” she said before returning to take a seat, Riol looking at her with his brow raised a moment before looking away immediately as she snapped her attention to him.

Alisaie came up next, Urianger behind her with his hand on her shoulder as she snuffled away. “Sally was…I didn’t even get to say goodbye…I…Urianger, please, the poem,” she squeaked, unable to prevent the tears from coming.

Urianger nodded then cleared his throat, “Stop all the chronometers, cut off the tomestones. Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone…

Alisaie crossed her arms as she pressed her cheek up against the porthole, watching outward into the empty nothingness of the sea. “Are we there yet?” she sighed. 

“Thou will be upon the shore again before thou knows it,” Urianger said, not looking up from his book.

“I’m bored though. There’s nothing to do in this cramped tin can,” she lamented, knocking her knuckles against the side.

“There is an endless expanse of sea just outside your window. A whole hidden world. Relax, and take it in,” Urianger responded, flipping a page.

Alisaie rolled her eyes and let her attention wander out into the empty expanse, though after a bit, she noticed that something was amiss with the veil-like light filtering down from the sea above. Squinting carefully, she began to notice a scalelike quality to veil. Her eyes widened, realizing it was a large school of fish swimming in perfect unison.

This didn’t go interrupted though. Soon a large maw appeared and scooped up the lot followed by a low song. Alisaie pressed her nose against the glass, hearing a melody all around them as two baby whales circled about their parents, scooping more of the fish veil as the rest of the school scattered. She watched in awe, the little family following alongside them. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad under the sea.

“...Pour away the ocean, and sweep up the wood; For nothing now can ever come to any good,” Urianger finished before taking a sobbing Alisaie back to her seat.

Alphinaud followed his sister, looking out at the crowd gravely. “I’m not sure what to say. I thought Sally would long be a beloved part of the Scions. I have never been found of the water, as many of you know, but Sally helped me overcome my fear of the swimming and so much more…”

Alphinaud hugged his knees, the Thavnair’s humidity getting to him. Jullus beside him had long discarded his coat into the bowls of their ship, leaning over the side now touching the still seawater as they floated through a wooded lagoon they surfaced in. Fireflies danced about them as Jullus’s hand reached for Alphinaud’s

“Sally sure found us the perfect spot. This place is almost like a dream,” Jullus breathed out before turning to the other.

Locusts cried while crickets creaked. Frogs sang to one another as catfish splashed around them. Their vessel seemed to slowly spin, making Alphinaud slightly dizzy. He leaned into Jullus who caught him then pressed their foreheads together, smiling softly before tilting his head to go for a kiss.

Alphinaud blushed as the memory ran across his mind, hand briefly coming up to touch his lips before being pushed aside by Estinien. “Sally helped me take on my greatest foe and brought me my greatest rewards,” he said into the mic as it squeaked out.

Estinien’s eyes widened as his prey came into view, the console beeping as the creature came closer. “By the Fury, Sally, there she is. The great squid of the Indigo Deep. Tonight we dine like the saints of eld,” he said before getting his harpoon ready.

“No one believes you’ve taken on and fried a giant squid,” Krile interrupted from the audience, giving G’raha tissues as he wept. “Oh, Raha. You didn’t even know Sally.”

“I knew OF her though! So many adventures. Every one meticulously logged so that I felt as if I was there myself,” G’raha blubbered. 

“Prayers…Sorrows…,” Krile sighed, patting his back.

“I have a memory,” Jannie chimed in, cradling Haurchefant in her arms as he slept. She stood, taking the podium as Estinien grumpily stepped down. “Sally made sure that Arteriole was there in time for Haurchefaunt’s birth.”

Jannie cried out as she felt another contraction ring through her body. She cursed Rahn for convincing her that the relaxing sea air of Costa del Sol would do her some good before the pregnancy…but also was relieved to have him around as he fetched her water. Grateful that he took his doula training very seriously in preparation for his own daughters. Still, her husband hadn’t come with them, instead seeing to business in Limsa Lominsa in hopes of fostering further trade between the seaside nation and Isghard. For that, she felt might not forgive him.

“Rahn! I swear if Arty misses his son's birth I will swiven let him throw you into the deepest dungeon of the Vault where even Aymeric will not find you,” she hissed before letting out an appreciated whine as he laid out a cold cloth over her head.

“Okay okay! Let it all out. I am used to the verbal abuse of the huntresses by now,” U’rahn assured her.

“Yeah! Let Rahn have it,” Violet cheered, keeping her distance from the scene.

“I promise Arty is coming. Sally will see him here! In the meantime, big breaths and squeeze me. Don’t worry, you can’t break me!”

“I’m sure going to try,” Jannie hissed, taking his hand and squeezing it with all her might.

“Jannie! Jannie my love! I’ve come with a courjen!” Arteriole’s voice called out from across the beach, looking absolutely winded as he did his best to run through the sand, their baby bag tucked under his arm while a little lalafell in a lab coat followed.

Jannie let out a sigh, looking out to Sally in the distance and smiling before closing her eyes, relieved and ready to begin to bring their son into the world.

“If it wasn’t for Sally, you wouldn’t have ever gotten to meet your Uncle Rahn,” Jannie cooed to Haurchefant as he stirred awake, U’rahn swallowing behind her as she went to take a seat.

“Ah. Well, if that’s everyone…We will now let her sink to the depths of the aquarium where she can live out her days among us and in the ocean waters she loved so much. For the last time ladies and gentlemen: Dive Sally, Dive,” U’rahn said solemnly, getting a wail of grief from the front row as the urn plunged into the water.

In the back a door swung open, Erick gage scanning the crowd then up at the stage. “What is wrong with all of you? This is a place of business!! Who throws a funeral for a submarine!?"

[lightparty-fullparty]

There's two NPC's I think Zenos would have formed something of an actual friendship with if he had the opportunity to meet/fight them:

1. Estinien Wrymblood - He's the Azura Dragoon, and honestly, enough of a broody, stabby bastard that I think the two would have entire silent conversations where they just nod a few times. Also, Estinien is depicted several times post heavensward as being WoL levels of strong. Please remember when he exploded those Castrums all by himself with just a pointy stick.

2. Sadu Dothral - Honestly, all of the Dothral and a good chunk of the other Xaela tribes too. They have such similar philosophies about battle and life. I really think Sadu would a) hold her own against him and b) help to add nuance and deeper meaning to Zenos's view on chasing that one transendant moment at the very peak of battle.

Anyways I've been replaying Stormblood on an alt and it's really stuck out to me just how common the "find meaning and joy in tough fights" philosophy is through the game. Ishgard has it too, what with Halone being the War Goddess and all. It's just a bit more shrouded in French Catholicism where the Dothral get to have a who manefesto speech when you meet them first.

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

Estinien couldn't help it, he could feel himself beginning to tense. He'd only ever dealt with Mathye in the role of commander to soldier. And even then depending on the situation, Mathye was either reasonable...or stubborn. The surly attitude, Estinien had just learned to let it go. Mathye had been a good dragoon, was an even better medic--and fighting death while patching up their brothers and sisters so they could go back out into the soul-crushing grinder of the Dragonsong War...that would be enough to make any body bad-tempered. But now, Estinien didn't have the advantage of rank. He wasn't in the Order any more. Any possible respect Mathye could have had for him had probably been destroyed when he'd skipped out on Riven. And he didn't think commanding the remnant powers of one of the First Brood would help him either.

"I want to talk to Riven, Bishop. This is none of your business."

"And I want a night with Lanthe the Silver-Veiled. But that's not happening. So it looks like the both of us are going to have to live with disappointment." Mathye countered. He'd muscled up a bit more, Estinien noted. But like Riven--he was still slightly pale, and echoes of pain still lingered in his gaze. And there was something askew about his aether, the best way Estinien could describe it was that he had the impression of something poisonous having been lanced from a wound.

What in the seven hells happened to them?

"Get the fuck out of my sight, Wyrmblood."

"Make me." Estinien growled. Too late he realized his error, a predatory smile crossed Mathye's features.

"Make you, did you say? Riven'll yell at me, but I don't think she'd really mind me beating you like the cowardly trash you are and tossing you back out on the midden." He practically purred, the highlights in his hair starting to faintly glow. Now Estinien really felt his hackles starting to rise--Mathye was one of the oldest dragoons with an active curse he'd mastered. It'd been rare to see Hrist rise to the surface but when she did, it was memorable. But he couldn't let Mathye dissuade him. Although he did want to talk to Riven without having to fight his way through her battle-brothers...

"That's rich, coming from the man who was the town dishrag! How many women did you leave after the deed was done?"

"I had the courtesy to at least face them in the morning and offer proper good-byes, instead of slinking out like a weasel." Mathye smirked in satisfaction as Estinien bared his teeth. Oh he was itching for a fight with the elezen. Any reason to get his hands on Wrymblood and make him suffer for all the tears Riven had cried. Hurts of the heart he had no power to heal, and seeing Riven in emotional pain and being unable to do anything about it...

It seemed Halone had favored him today, he could send an elezen to the afterlife.

[loveaintforkeeping]

Rating: T

Word Count: 9.6k

No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Aymeric de Borel/Estinien Wrymblood

Summary:

The Eye is getting stronger by the day, Estinien is slowly losing control and the Azure Dragoon needs a second pilot in the fight against Nidhogg. An Aymeric/Estinien Pacific Rim AU/Fusion

[ffxivelliotcraig]

When that Song of Hope kicks in

[pommancy]

clown

[yukiotacon]

Estinien x WoL love booster hcs

This is why Estinien shouldn't be near the alchemical forge

You know the cliche of dragons wherein they horde pleasure treasures

Yeah, you are the treasure in this scenario

Say good bye to your peaceful day shopping

Estinien is gonna hover in two flavors

One being leaning in the nearest wall and being frustrated and horny

The second is holding you from behind and aggressively cuddling you in public regardless who sees

Fortunately or unfortunately, it's the latter

Will snap at anyone who tries to take you away from him.

Heck Estinien even lashed out at Varshan

Don't worry Varshan didn't take it personally though he did apologize to you since it was he who brought Estinien to the forge that time

You better not have any plans for the next day

When you both return to your shared quarters, you hear the door lock

Estinien bridal carries you and drops you to the bed with a hungry look in his eye

Long story short, Estinien laid claim to you all night long ( Might wanna wear long clothes)

[ladyramora]

Hi um first timer, I want to say Iove your works. Um may I request for the Elezen husbands ( Aymeric, Haurchefant, Estinien) hc for wherein WoL gets hurt and goes into a coma for a few days. I am curious how will they act during the coma and when the Wol wakes up

......

....

...

"Estinien, please," Aymeric sighs on the third day of the Warrior of Light's ongoing coma, rubbing his temple with two fingers as he nursed a strong cup of heavily syruped tea in his other hand. His head obviously ached something fierce and Estinien's constant back and forth pacing was only agitating him further.

"Why haven't they woken yet?" Estinien growls, ignoring Aymeric's plea and he practically wears a hole in the floor with his boots still on that Aymeric had told him more than three times now to bloody well take off if he was going to walk back and forth like that.

Haurchefant, sat by their hero's sickbed, ignores the bickering of the other two elezen. His focus solely for the warrior that lay still and quiet under so many layers of blankets with pillows stacked plump and high under their head. He gazes into their face and feels wretched that he had not been by their side when this happened.

He holds their hand in his, his fingertips grazing the scars that still lingered on their palm and fingers — scars that matched his own where a blade of aether had pierced him—and lowers his head to kiss along their hand. "Dear heart," he murmurs pleadingly, "will you not wake soon?"

His hero had moved so quickly that day in the Vault. He'd not even seen them move when his shield had given under the strain and ultimately broke. The warrior catching and holding fast in their hands that deadly blade of energy — with all that force and power behind it — just as it grazed him. Haurchefant had watched, shocked and with blazing light blinding him as his friend, his hero snapped the blade in two and tossed it aside like rubbish. It had looked effortless at the time, but Haurchefant knew it had not been. They'd still the scars to prove it even after being seen to by so many capable healers. Twas a miracle it had not sliced clean through their lovely hands.

"Will you stop it with the kissing?" Estinien grouses. Done apparently with his pacing and come now to stand over the bed to stare at Haurchefant and the unconscious champion. "This is not some faerie story. Your kiss won't wake sleeping beauty."

Haurchefant does not bother responding negatively to the azure dragoon's words, knowing that the man was only lashing out because of his overwhelming feelings. Estinien embraced anger and used it as a weapon more readily than taking a long look at his own feelings. Feelings that he, too, must have for the hero who had yet to wake for the third day. Haurchefant could not blame him for such, but he would not respond in kind. The days of letting his anger control him were behind him now, best left in his childhood where he had control over nothing, not even himself.

"Should we try taking turns, then?" The Lord of Camp Dragonhead says with mild humor, sitting upright and stretching his aching back against his less than comfortable chair. Estinien scowls at him, but Haurchefant only chuckles. He turns his head to look at the lord de Borel who was stationed at the only desk in the room, diligently doing paperwork even as he stayed here along with them to keep watch over the Warrior of Light.

"What say you, Ser Aymeric?"

Aymeric glances up, the feather of his quill pausing where it was brushing thoughtfully over his bottom lip. His eyes are tired, the artful arrangement of his gently curling hair mussed from running his hands through it. "Hmm? What was that, lord Haurchefant?"

Haurchefant musters as mischievous and cheeky a grin he could manage after three days of fretting at their hero's bedside. "Will you not kiss sleeping beauty awake? If any of us is closest to a prince, surely it must be you."

Aymeric arches his eyebrows up, shaking his head even as a smile quirked at his lips. Being friends with lord Haurchefant's eldest brother Artoirel, he was well used to the oddities of the middle Fortemps brother. "Nay, I would not dare to take such liberties as stealing a kiss from someone I hold so dear. At least, not without first asking their permission."

Haurchefant inclines his head thoughtfully. Stroking his thumb along his dear, sleeping friend's hand. "I suppose you have the right of it. It would be unbecoming of a knight to act so uncouth. I should ask their forgiveness when they wake."

Aymeric only smiles. "For how taken they are with you, I doubt they will mind at all." It was quite a common sight to see lord Haurchefant reach for the hero's hand, and they never did deny him. Aymeric wished he, too, could be so bold as the Fortemps knight. Propriety had been ingrained in him from a young age, unfortunately. Though he and Haurchefant were cut of a similar cloth as bastard sons, House de Borel had been as strict in raising him as they had been kind.

Estinien is the one who seems to reach the end of his tether first. The other two knights taken entirely aback as the Azure dragoon leans over the hero, his pale hair hanging loose to curtain around them as he grasps their shoulders and shook them less than gently, "Wake up!"

Aymeric leaps from his seat, appalled. "Estinien!"

Haurchefant, too, lurches upright. "How dare you? Unhand them, Ser Dragoon," he says in a voice like sharpened steel.

Their worry unnecessary, it seemed, as the hero groaned and... turned over. Burying their face in a luxuriously plump pillow as they grumbled at the azure dragoon in an exhausted almost whine, "M'tired, Estinien!"

The three knights gazed at them, mouths agape.

Then Estinien barked a laugh, proceeding to shake them more by bouncing the bed around them, "No more sleeping. Get up! Get up, hero!"

They mumble something into their pillow not suited to polite company that sounds suspiciously close to, "You suck! Piss off!" but they do raise their head to blink at the knights all gathered around their bedside blearily. "...Am I dreaming," they ask in a sleep raspy voice, "Or are you all in my bedroom?"

Haurchefant cracks a painful grin. Relief blooming warm and bright in his chest, the swell of emotion so much that it moved him to tears. "Oh, dear heart," he murmurs, teardrops glimmering on his eyelashes. "Fury be praised! You're awake!"

The hero blinks. "Good morning? What are you all doing here?"

Haurchefant laughs. "Yes, well, good afternoon 'tis more like."

Surprise shows on their face, plain to read. Afternoon? Had they slept so long?

Aymeric comes to join the others at their bedside, sitting down beside them with a regal swishing of his blue cloak. "You have been sleeping here at de Borel Manor for three days, my dear," the lord de Borel informs them gently as he reached out to smooth the wrinkles in their bedding that pooled over their lap. Naught more than an excuse to reach out and make contact. With Estinien sat on one side and Haurchefant with a chair pulled up at the other, Aymeric situates himself near their legs.

They stare blankly, blinking owlishly. "Three days? Oh..." Their hand raises up to touch their head, then presses to their body where they were certain they had been wounded. "I was fighting, and then..."

"—You almost died," Estinien interjects. "Zenos had you on your knees. What happened?"

The hero frowns. "It was that voice again. Calling out to me."

Haurchefant frowns. "The same one that affected the Scions?"

The Warrior nods. "The very same. That voice... It pierced through me, I felt as if it was pulling at everything I am. It was agonizing. No matter how I tried to make my body obey, I could not move."

Estinien tsks, raking a hand roughly through his hair. Looking like he wanted to jump up and resume pacing. Or simply sink his lance into all of the Warrior of Light's foes.

"I see," Aymeric murmurs, frowning deeply. He reaches out and squeezes their knee. "Full glad am I to see you awake, my friend."

The hero looks between them all, a smile lurking at the corners of their mouth. "Tis good to see your faces."

Haurchefant reaches again for their hand, his blue eyes earnest. "Far better to see yours, dear heart. Why, I feel it has been a veritable eternity since last I have had the pleasure of gazing upon that lovely face."

The hero looks to Haurchefant fondly, their smile widening with obvious affection as the lord kisses their hand. "I missed you, too." They glance towards Aymeric and Estinien, too. Meeting their eyes each, their expression soft with the same affection as they held for Haurchefant. Of course, they had ever possessed such heart. "All of you. It has been too long since we have all been in the same place at the same time. Will you not stay a while longer?"

Haurchefant is the first to answer, "But of course. I have put in charge a knight most capable at Camp Dragonhead in mine absence. You have me for however long you desire, my dear."

Estinien sighs. "I cannot stay for long, nor can Aymeric. We are needed at the front. You, however, will stay. Your wounds have not yet fully healed. Do not make me carry you back here again."

The hero's face falls. Knowing that they could not jump out of bed straight away to join them. One on one, perhaps they would win that battle to return to the fight. But against all three? Nay. 'Twas best they stay abed a while longer to mend lest they want the guilt of three worried elezen men weighing on them.

"However," Aymeric cuts in, casting Estinien a mildly reproachful glance. "We can stay a while longer to keep you company. Is not not so, Estinien?" The lord prompts with a diplomatic smile, oozing charisma.

Estinien crosses his arms and grunts, but does not deny his friend. He supposed they could stay a little longer.

"There you have it," Aymeric says with satisfaction. "We will stay a while yet. Ah, but... Pray, do stay abed, my friend. You need your rest."

Haurchefant chimes in, "Indeed, indeed. Will you not allow us to fuss over you for a bit, my dear?"

Under the gaze of three Ishgardian men who cared so very much in all their own ways, how could the Warrior deny them. "...If that is your wish."

Haurchefant claps his hands together. "Splendid! Now, you must be hungry...."

....

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[unbloomingmoonflower]

Auraugust Day 8: NPC

If we're putting our lizzerds with NPCs, then of COURSE I'm putting Shuri with her WoL-canon husband.

Since I imagine the time bubble being rather long with the events of the expansion, Shuri and Estinien have been married for years since the events of Stormblood and have four children together (the youngest, Ysayle, being Ardbert's daughter bc Esti and Shuri have a poly marriage and Ardbert was in it until Shadowbringers broke my hearts).