#handeloup

[howdygravytrain]

*jingles pathetically across the courtyard*

holy shit y'all, this was the most extensive set of gposes i've done yet. this took almost an entire week from me getting a room at my fc's crib and transferring all my shit from my apartment to there so i could make the bedroom, gathering/crafting everything for said bedroom, the poses themselves, desperately trying to find a crime for aymeric's earring before i said fuck it and photoshopped it on LMAO, the editing, putting the screenshots into panels since tumblr only allows 30 images per upload and finally typing up the transcript, I AM FINISHED.

all because a friend wrote a snippet about "what if aymeric fantasia'd into a lalafell?" i have not known peace since then 😩 /pos

btw i plan to make an introductory post for gravy sometime, but noT FUCKING TONIGHT PLS IF I HAVE TO OPEN PHOTOSHOP ONE MORE TIME I'M GONNA HURL MYSELF INTO THE AETHERIAL SEA

got a doozy of a transcript, find it below the break!

TRANSCRIPT

Panel 1: [ONE PECULIAR DAY WHEN GRAVY ARRIVED BACK HOME IN ISHGARD…]

Panel 4: Gravy Train: Huh, that’s weird…Aymeric always greets me when I come back home. Maybe he got holed up at work again?

Panel 7: <He hasn’t been to work in two days…The hell is goin’ on?>

Panel 10: Gravy Train: Howdy, Eddie. Aymeric home?

Panel 11: Edrant: Ah, welcome home, Lady Gravy. M’lord is currently upstairs in his bedchambers. He specified to let none interrupt him since yestermorn.

Panel 12: Gravy Train: He ain’t want no one to bother him? Is he alright, is he sick??

Panel 13: Gravy Train: Ayms, ya doin’ alright, sugar bear?

Panel 14: <Hmm, no answer. Maybe he’s in the bathroom?>

Panel 16: Gravy Train: The hell, he ain’t in there either??

Panel 17: Gravy Train: Now just where could he’ve gone off to? Surely if it was an emergency he’d’ve let me know somethin’...

Panel 18: Gravy Train: Maybe Estinien’s gotten into some shit that Vrtra couldn’t get him out of and Aymeric went to help? Or Lucia needed him in Garlemald? Naw, Lucia’s got her shit together, Estinien’d be the one who’d fuck around.

Panel 19: Gravy Train: Aight, that bastard better have his linkpearl in or I swear to goD–

Panel 20: ???: Darling, is that you?

Panel 21: Gravy Train: Huh–who in the–?!

Panel 22: Gravy Train: Hollup–Ayms, is that you?

Panel 23: Aymeric: Aye, and I assume by your expression the potion worked?

Panel 25: Gravy Train: Oh my god, yer my size! Holy shit this is so cool!!

Panel 26: Gravy Train: Oh wait, ya got any clothing that’ll fit?

Aymeric: That I do. I may have taken the opportunity to, ahem, borrow some of your clothing and have outfits of similar proportions made for myself.

Gravy Train: Ohhh, I wanna see those fits!

Aymeric: Of course, if you could excuse me for just a moment…

Panel 28: Gravy Train: Ahhhhhh ya look amazin’, honey!

Panel 31: Aymeric: Um, darling, is something amiss–

Panel 33: Gravy Train: I can do this t’ya now, sugar.

[weatheredfailnot]

Rarepair ( 2 / ? ) - Ortefauchel, his unnamed wife with no canon design, and Handeloup

[jaradeborelandfriends]

Handeloup and Family

[porta-decumana]

Handeloup's always been handsome but DAYUM, the graphics update blessed him even more 😳

[hylfystt]

the dt tank role quest is so funny. wdym you need to put a plan together before talking to aymeric? just let me go in and ask him he won't say no to me

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

everything's fine. it's winter training. nothing can go wrong!

When you hear something has Gone Wrong™️ on the training grounds while you're reporting to your commanding officer.

Aymeric: Very Polite 'WTF?' Handelhoup: Done. Finished. The body is present but the soul has checked out for the day.

(Certified Young Dumbass Dragoon Fuckery™️: The Hamster Wheel Incident)

[dragons-bones]

FFXIV Write Entry #29: Spices and Contraband

Prompt: contravention || Master Post || On AO3

--

Ehll Tou burbled happily to herself as she trotted through the bustling crowd of passengers and porters along the Ishgardian airship docks. She had been awaiting a shipment of fresh herbs and spices and potions from Ul’dah for a fortnight, and today was the day they should arrive!

Soon enough she had arrived at the correct pier, and she waited mostly patiently near where the cargo was being unloaded from the Cinnamon Cloud. A few of the crew waved to her, and she waved back excitedly. If she had the time later, she would come back to see if any of them had new stories to share of their travels.

The cargomaster came over, his smile white against the dark brown of his skin. “Hello, Sky Lady!” he said. “Awaiting a package?”

[Yes!] Ehll Tou said, jaw dropping in a smile. [From Frondale’s Phrontistery; was it in this shipment?]

“I believe it was!” the cargomaster said, and laughed as she hopped up and down in excitement. “One moment, my lady, let me go check.”

She kept hopping as she waited, far less patient now. She had projects to finish, some new cooking recipes to devise and items to finish enchanting with the proper infused lacquers. Soon soon soon!

The cargomaster returned shortly, a crate in his hands, and Ehll Tou cheered.

A check of the crate’s inventory against the Cinnamon Cloud’s cargo manifest and Ehll Tou’s own receipt from the Phrontistery—the cargomaster was kind enough to pry open the crate for her so that she could check, and she trilled happily at confirming everything was present—and then a collection of her signature, and Ehll Tou was off back to the Firmament with her crate in hand. She whistled a traveling song as she skipped through the city, though at the gentle clink of the glass bottles against one another, she slowed to something more sedate.

Once back in her warehouse, Ehll Tou headed for her primary workroom and set the crate on the table. She fetched a crowbar and reopened the lid, the cargomaster having nailed it shut to ensure nothing spilled on her way back from the docks. Setting both lid and crowbar aside, Ehll Tou carefully reached inside and began removing her new treasures.

The potions were each neatly labeled: essences of fire, which would be perfect to imbue fine cotton or wool for warmth since sewing fire shards wasn’t practical, and assorted growth formulae in different grades for her to use practicing imbuing wands and staves for Ishgardian conjurers. Ehll Tou wasn’t yet proficient with alchemy to make her own, and the ingredients were expensive and difficult to come by, too. Hmm, perhaps she should write a polite request to her…how would men call the degree of relation between them? A great uncle? That sounded correct. She should write a polite request to Great Uncle Vrtra, and ask if she might come to study with his alchemists for a time. At some point, there was no rush with many centuries still before her.

Potions gently set aside, now Ehll Tou retrieved the rest of her order. Fresh saffron and laurel and aloe, from Southern Thanalan, grown and harvested by the residents of Little Ala Mhigo. Prickly pears from Central Thanalan, bright pink and smelling utterly divine to her nose even through their thick skins. And, carefully wrapped in waxed paper, a trio of huge black truffles that Ehll Tou almost fond herself cooing over. Ohhh, she would make many delicious foods with these truffles, yes she would!

The food items she brought to her kitchen, and then she returned to her main workroom to gather up the packing straw from the crate. It would make for good kindling for her stove.

Her claws scratched against the bottom of the crate, and they caught on something. A knot in the wood? But as Ehll Tou drew her hands back, the bottom of the crate lifted away entirely, and she startled.

In doing so, her claw worked free, and the bottom fell back again. Curiosity wasn’t a trait exclusive to cats, however, and Ehll Tou poked her head into the crate, running her claws along the wood until she felt them hook again. Deliberately now, she raised the false bottom and set it aside, then peeked into the crate again.

[…Oh, dear.]

--

[Who would dare do such a thing?!] Ehll Tou growled, fighting the urge to stomp around her workroom as one of Commander Handeloup’s Temple Knights gingerly transferred small, overstuffed bags from the crate’s false bottom into a small, sturdy iron chest. [Use MY goods to smuggle SOMNUS into the city? The audacity! The insult!]

“Unfortunately, not uncommon,” Commander Handeloup said, tone soothing. “Chances are your order was merely the only one traveling to Ishgard from the Phrontistery within the smuggler’s window of opportunity.”

Ehll Tou crossed her arms with a huff, a lick of flame briefly escaping her nostrils before she reined her temper in. Just because she was angry did not mean she should be rude. [And someone on this end was supposed to take out the somnus before I picked up my crate?]

Handeloup nodded. “That’s the most likely scenario, and we can at least assume the Cinnamon Cloud’s cargomaster isn’t involved in the scheme, considering how readily he retrieved it for you upon your arrival at their pier. I’ll have one of my men approach him quietly and ask about any unusual behavior among his crew.”

Ugh. At least she wouldn’t be looking at the cargomaster suspiciously the next time she placed an order from an Ul’dahn business.

[A fine shadow over my day,] she grumbled.

The Temple Knight’s Second Commander chuckled and reached out to gently pat her shoulder just above the wing. “Hopefully, you will be able to look back in the near future and feel a sense of pride at assisting in however small a way at breaking a smuggling ring,” he said.

Ehll Tou cocked her head thoughtfully. [It would make for a good song…]

PREVIOUS || NEXT

[potassium-pilot]

FFXIVWrite 2023, Day 9: Fair

Oliver shuffled his hands through his notes, taking care that all of the date he recorded on elemental activity was organized. All he needed now was to get home and start properly analyzing and logging what he had learned in his lab in the cottage.

Upon opening the door, he found Dia hanging upside down, Hector dangling her by her tiny, six-summer-old right ankle. Chaos was true order in the Sito household, so when the red-headed midlander returned to a maniacally cackling Elezen child and his reckless bald highlander life partner and research assistant holding her like a fisherman with his rather large catch, it didn't quite phase him much.

"I assume you know that I would be rather upset if you were to drop her, yes?"

"Don't ye worry yer pretty head, darlin'. Only 'oldin' 'er like this 'cause o' 'er pryin' lil' 'ands!" The young child giggled loudly as he lifted her higher to look her in the eye and give her a menacing grin.

"Gods' sakes, Hector. What could she have done now?"

"She thought she could get away wit' snoopin' through a cookie jar when 'er ol' man was right across the way and she knows dinner's bein' served in a bell! Ain't tha' right, Dia?!" She could only laugh in response.

"Heavens above", Oliver rolled his eyes. "Put her down, Hector."

The highlander approached a well-used pale blue sofa and gently laid her down against the cushions. The Elezen was still in a laughing fit, calming down from the rush her father gave her just then. Oliver went to her side and patted her head. "I understand your temptation, but give not into it. That would spoil your appetite and I would feel better if you ate a more nutritious meal. Do you understand, dear?"

"Yes, daddy."

"Good girl." Oliver smiled. Oliver then walked over to Hector and sternly told him, "Holding a child like she's a fresh-caught sea bass, on the other hand, is not an appropriate response for a child dipping into a cookie jar."

"What if the child was 'avin the time o' 'er life?" Hector turned to Dia and asked enthusiastically, "Weren't ye 'avin fun, Dia?"

"Yeah!" She cackled in response.

Oliver sighed and pinched his nose. "I get no support here." With his notes still in his inventory, he made his way to his laboratory and closed the door behind him.

--------

Years have passed along. Oliver was reading on the sofa as he felt a presence sit right next to him. He looked and found his thirteen summer old daughter simpering next to him. "Hi, daddy!"

"Hello, dear. Did you care to join me for some light reading? I've an interesting book on the fungal species of the Twelveswood. It's been updated for this year."

"That's nice, but I was hoping to ask you something."

"Of course."

"Do you know what today is?"

Oliver looked to the calendar hanging on the wall nearby. "I believe today is the twenty-eighth day of the Fifth Umbral Moon."

"Right. So do you know what that means next week is?"

He knew perfectly well, but he had to pretend to think on it for his amusement. "Well...I believe there's to be a waxing gibbous in the sky that night."

"Aaaaaaand?"

"Hm...perhaps someone's nameday may be on the horizon. But whose nameday? Now that is perplexing..."

"Daddy!" She yelled excitedly.

Oliver chuckled to himself and ruffled her hair. "Yes, your fourteenth nameday is upon us. Oh, I remember when we found you in the Twelveswood like it was but a day ago. Now look at what's become of that sweet infant."

"Yes, and I'm very glad you two took me in, but you remember what you told me?"

He remembered very well, and it drove his heart rate through the roof to think of it. "About that..."

"Daddy, please! Not again!" Dia begged.

"I know, but...I cannot let you leave until I know with absolute certainty that you will not be harmed if I were to let you go to Limsa Lominsa's Arcanist Guilt by yourself."

"I'm almost fourteen, Daddy. I'm more than ready to go. I've been working on my combat magic!"

"Have you?"

"Yes!"

Oliver put down his book on the old oaken coffee table, coated in coffee stains and littered in papers, and looked her in the eye. "Prove it to me." He stood up and walked to the door. "If you can hold your own against me, then I will take you to Limsa Lominsa myself."

Though it had been some time since he last needed to use it, his family pioneered combative arithmantic black magic, a form meant to mimic the act of black magic without drawing aether from the land. Knowing this about him, Dia stood up and faced him down.

"Then I've no choice but to hold my own against you, do I?"

The two stepped outside into the forests of The Black Shroud. They took an appropriate distance from one another. Both faced the other down, Dia's eyes glimmering with sheer determination. Oliver had to hide his fear behind a shield of stern looks.

Dia took the first cast of Ruin and fired at her father. Though she was stronger with it than when he first taught it to her for self-defense purposes, it barely made an impact into him. It only hurt slightly.

With that, Oliver used his book to cast Fire and aimed it squarely at his daughter.

The impact of the spell sent Dia flying backwards, spinning until she landed face down against the ground. She brought her arms to her side to try and get up, but the pain was overwhelmingly powerful. Her forearms were shaking, her chest was burning, and her head was throbbing, the world looking so blurred through her eyes. Though she tried her hardest to stand back up, her body simply would not let her and so she collapsed once again, panting for breath.

Oliver watched her struggle in this state and felt his knees turn to jelly. His chest tightened and his jaw slacked in horror. When he tried to run to her, however, his path was blocked by his highlander partner, his eyes glowing red and his axe prepared in his hands.

"TRY AN' TOUCH 'ER AGAIN AN' I'LL SPLIT YER 'EAD IN TWAIN!" Hector roared.

"Hector!"

Hector ran to Dia's side and lifted her carefully into him. "Don't ye worry, Dia. Da's got you. Hector's gonna take care o' ye, okay?"

Dia coughed and said weakly, "I'm sorry."

"What ye gotta be sorry fer, love?"

"Daddy...he said I needed to show him I could hold my own...if I wanted to go to Limsa."

"Did 'e?" Hector turned his head slowly to look to Oliver, and in a quiet fury, growled, "Ye ain't the marauders she's s'pose to worry 'bout."

Hector stood up, holding Dia in his arms as she laid in him limply, and carried her into the cottage without another word. As he held her, Oliver could see the blood stain her shirt, and smell her singed flesh, his stomach churning as he realized he did that to her. Once Hector closed the door, Oliver found a corner nearby and vomited violently.

---------

But a week after the Scions awoke in their bodies on the Source, Dia and Alisaie went shopping in the Sapphire Avenue Exchange in Ul'Dah, looking to buy some supplies for Tataru while she dealt with some other business away from the Rising Stones. While picking out some cleaning supplies from an apothecary, they hadn't noticed a scrawny brown-haired Hyur man nearby. He walked very casually but very close to the both of them, and without Dia noticing a single thing, stole some gil from her coinpurse.

Despite Dia's unawareness, Alisaie heard the jingling of money and saw the man walk away quickly. The youngest of the pair put two and two together and gave chase, leaving the eldest behind with the merchant, who Dia apologized to, asked him to hold the cleansers for them and ran after her. He turned a corner into the back alleys, but Alisaie was quick with a Corps-a-Corps and tackled him to the stony ground.

Alisaie turned the man around, grabbed him by the cuff, and screamed, "Do you realize who you just stole from? Do you even know?!"

"Urgh! Get off me!"

Dia appeared behind her in time for Alisaie to yell, "That's the Warrior of Light!"

His face grew pale with fear. His jaw trembled and his eyes grew wider and wider.

"If you have any sense, you'll give back what you took from her and never show your face again!"

"Alisaie", Dia took her shoulder calmly and tried to de-escalate the situation, "It's all right." With a scowl towards the man, she stood up as Dia asked him, "How much did you take?"

He showed her what he had taken, a small handful of gil. It was a pitifully small amount compared to what she kept on her person usually, never mind the fact that most people could only dream of being able to afford her usual gear. "Take it and go. Don't let us catch you doing that again."

He crawled back to standing and ran away as fast as his legs could carry him.

"Dia, what were you thinking? That was yours."

"What he took didn't even make a dent in my coinpurse anyway. Don't worry. I've plenty of money."

"That doesn't give him the right to take it from you without your permission."

"Nor is it fair to burn his face for what's really a pittance. Now come on, we've got supplies to buy."

"Unbelievable. You are unbelievable, Dia", Alisaie sighed in frustration.

-------

About one day ago, Estinien returned Dia to Ishgard from the Ragnarok. He left her in Aymeric's care, knowing full well that she would accept nowhere else to rest but Borel Manor.

At this point, Aymeric was in the Seat of the Lord Commander. Though he should have focused on his work, his thoughts distracted him. The idea that one of the most important people in his life laid in their bedchambers as hurt as she was made him tense. She just saved the universe from the ravages of despair itself. Why was he here when he could make himself useful to her? The war against Garlemald was effectively over, there was no war against the dragons anymore. At this point, his role as the Lord Commander was for bureaucratic purposes as Handeloup oversaw training of recruits and kept the knights working. The bulk of his work was papers and meetings through the House of Lords.

"My lord?"

Aymeric's focus returned to the waking world and he stared up at who just called him. Handeloup stood above him.

"May I speak freely with you?"

"But of course."

"Thank you." Handeloup cleared his throat before saying in a serious tone, "If my wife were to have returned to me in the state that you found Mistress Sito in, I don't think I'd be able to sleep, much less return to work for a while. Are you well?"

Aymeric frowned. "Ah. I'm afraid you caught me ruminating on the subject as well."

"'Tis difficult, I'm aware, but my lord, I wish to make it clear that I would be happy to undertake some more responsibilities for you should you wish to be more present for Mistress Sito. I know I would appreciate such a thing."

Aymeric put his quill down. "I'm unsure what could be done. While I wish to help her in whatever way I can, my duties do not stop here in the Congregation."

"That is true, but my lord, I believe I have an idea for that..."

Dia was half-asleep in bed in the Manor. The painkillers given to her by Captain Whitecape drained any ability to keep herself roused, so she laid there dazed and exhausted. She was ordered to strict bed rest and had no reason at this point to break it. That in mind, she hadn't noticed the sounds of a door opening and only came to when she felt a gentle kiss press against her forehead. She tilted her head as much as she could to see that Aymeric was the culprit. He sat down and took her hand.

"Hi", she smiled woozily. Her words slurred as she asked him, "What are you doing home? What time is it?"

"But a quarter-bell to noon. I'll be taking my work here."

"What?" Her smile dropped. "No no, you don't have to do that."

"If I leave you here alone, my guilty conscience will never allow me to finish any work."

"Oh, but G'raha and the twins and Angelbert, they're all here, remember?"

"And I'm not. 'Tis enough to make a man feel rather left out."

"Aw, I don't...I didn't mean to make you give up your work for me."

"But my work continues. I can handle a solid portion of it from my home study. If I've any need to attend sessions with the House of Lords, then I shall depart for that much, then I can return straight here."

He circled his thumb carefully around her hand. "And I'm afraid that if you didn't wish to take up my every waking thought, it fell on me not to fall in love with you, and I am far too late to stop that, even if I wanted to."

"Ayms..."

"You have saved us on countless occasions, Dia. It is only right that a team of people who love you overwhelmingly so find the time to care for you. You deserve so much more."

Dia breathed out of her nose. "Don't let me stop you from anything important though."

"You and Ishgard are ever my most paramount concerns, my dear. Worry not for me. Please."

The medication made her too drowsy to argue the point anymore. "All right." With that, she had no more energy and nodded back off. Aymeric brushed some hair out of her face and stood up.

This felt right to him.

[redroseashrey]

More pictures from the wedding!

Estinien promises not to jump out the window during the wedding, as long as there's sea food in the menu. And also because he loves his friend.

Hilda will go on to catch the bouquet, but anyone who claims to have seen it has their life threatened. 

Handeloup’s just happy to be invited. He brought his wife and kid, of course!

[sheyshen]

i had a silly thought of blair and ramza ending up a thing when they're older, but that also means i'd have to come up with a way they'd actually meet and hit it off because she's mainly in ishgard and aside from visiting her parent's graves in garlemald now and then she isn't one to travel much, so that might end up being a dud of an idea lol

[congregenturanimarum]

OOC: I'll eventually re-do all of my muses pages to match the new theme but - - thats a lotta screens to re-take. That, and I'm tempted to add Gibrillont and Baucharldaire - one of the staff from the Leveilleur estate - here. But for now, I'm feeling really crap and I'm gonna vanish for a while.

[mrswhymrhow]

not it happening again but now with a giant bear???

merwlyb for testing armor letting her soliders wear it while the others hit them, then when nothing happens she takes out her gun and shoots it. im a bit in love

[balladingbard]

Okay, hear me out, but I have an idea for the next island sanctuary quest.

The quest title? “A Much-Needed Respite.”

The synopsis? “After being caught working 72 hours straight with naught but tea and biscuits for energy, Aymeric de Borel was forced by vote in the House of Lords to finally take a vacation. With Artoirel taking over his governmental duties and Handeloup watching over the knights, Aymeric has been dragged escorted by Emmanellain and Sicard to a mysterious island, where sassy mammets and a Warrior of Light await.”

The task? “Complete fun activities until Aymeric’s relax-o-meter is full and he is no longer in burnout.”

Please, Square, I beg you - give our boy a vacation. ;-;

[missazurerose]

“I…I never gave you a proper, real answer to your question when you asked me what I wanted.”

“Shall we finish our conversation then?”

“Yes. We should finally finish it.” She shifted, now straddling his lap so she could face him directly. “I wanted to find a place I could call home…and I never thought I’d find it…that I’d always be running from place to place with no end in sight.”

(Some very unimportant ramblings about fanfiction below the cut)

I swear I'm trying to do the whole "write the fanfic you want to see in the world" thing. I'm trying to do the DT tank quest rewrite. I've got some of it down. And it's not going to be the whole chain, I can tell you that. It's going to be like the last 2 quests around the time Handeloup says he's gonna tell Aymeric what the plan is then he's going to show up and get involved. I'm not built to rewrite the entire thing.

The problem is, I also want to play the game and gpose. Definitely can't do all three of those at once. Best I can do is scribble out some lines on my phone while Gaius yammers in the Praetorium and hope they make enough sense to use later.

Plus I got myself torn between "you should really finish it before 7.1 comes out' and 'you should really wait till after 7.1 comes out so you can new game+ it and make sure you've got all the details right.' And I think wait for new game+ to get caught up won. I've at least got time before the finale comes out.

It's about 3K words right now. But only about half of it is the role quest. The other half is fluff. Will it turn into smut? Probably not the odds are never zero. But I think it's going to stay fluff. Insert Brittany Broski kombucha gif here cause yes but no.

[dawnslight-aegis]

23. on cloud nine

(oops, I didn't actually get to the bit that would go with the traditional meaning of the prompt. anyway. no content warnings yet but this will eventually be edited and the rating will increase accordingly.)

‘Twas late, long past when Aymeric should have left his office and headed to bed, but his duties as Lord Speaker had caused him to let some of his responsibilities at the Congregation fall to the wayside, and he needed to set them right before things along the Shroud-Gyr Abania border erupted into all-out war.

A quiet knock against his office door drew his attention, and his Second Commander stepped in without waiting for an answer. He wore a heavy cloak over his armor to ward off the autumn chill, clearly about to head home, and Aymeric felt a twinge of guilt for keeping the man there so late, away from his wife and daughters. “Here are the troop movement reports you asked for, ser,” he said as he set them on the edge of the desk, out of Aymeric’s easy reach, “but I really think you should leave them for the morning.”

Aymeric waved a hand in acknowledgement, smiling faintly. “Yes, yes. I’ll be on my way soon, I assure you.”

“Good.” The man paused, then leaned forward slightly. “There is one other thing.”

He felt his eyebrows crawl towards his hairline as he took in the shift in Handeloup’s bearing, from official to almost conspiratorial. “Oh? What is it?”

“The door guards have just informed me that the Warrior of Light has returned to Ishgard, and was seen going into the Forgotten Knight less than a quarter bell ago.”

Aymeric froze. Typically speaking, when in Ishgard, Kaede preferred to stay in her rooms at the Fortemps Manor – or his own house, in his bed, a quiet little voice whispered in the back of his mind, to be firmly squashed – while it was Marzanna who usually took up residence within their reserved suite at Cloud Nine. There was no reason to assume this time was any different.

“Which one?” he asked, with what he thought was a quiet neutrality. ‘Twas curiosity, nothing more.

The look that Handeloup leveled at him told him quite clearly that he had not succeeded. “Ser, with all due respect – I would not bother to mention it, were it simply Mistress Kimbatuul come to start a bar brawl or some such. I would simply set an extra sentry near the Knight and be done with it.”

Heat warmed his ears as Aymeric rubbed his forehead and dropped all pretense. “Gods, does everyone know?”

The man sounded as if he was moments away from bursting into laughter, despite his sympathetic expression. “If your… regard for Mistress Kazarishi was meant to be a secret, ser, it’s a poorly kept one.”

He truly had no response for that, and his Second Commander grinned as he saluted and slipped out the door with a cheeky “have a pleasant night, Lord Commander.”

Pleasant, indeed. The object of his affections, she who had occupied most of his waking thoughts since the night she had confirmed that her feelings for him ran deeper than friendship, was just across the plaza, after being gone for nearly a fortnight. If he dared, it would take him only minutes to be at her door.

Taking a deep, steadying breath through his nose, Aymeric shook his head. She had not come to him, nor to his home. She had not even gone to her normal lodgings – which, to him, indicated either a wish for privacy or simply for rest, given the lateness of the hour. ‘Twould be presumptuous indeed for him to assume that a visit in the middle of the night would be welcome, regardless of the relationship that had been growing between them over the past two moons.

Firmly chastising himself for even entertaining the notion, Aymeric stood and walked to the edge of his desk, collecting the reports that Handeloup had delivered. He rifled through them, reading the same one three times before he realized that he hadn’t absorbed a word that they contained.

Clearly, he would be getting no further work done this night, as was likely Handeloup’s true goal. Collecting his own cloak, he fastened it over his armor and left the reports on his desk for the next day. Stepping out into the night, a sharp, cold wind hit his face and took his breath away – a late autumn blizzard was moving in, apparently, and snow was already beginning to pile up against the walls of the buildings. Aymeric pulled the hood of his cloak over his head and frowned. His normal route home through the Pillars would expose him to the wind and take more time than he’d like in these conditions – quicker to cut through the Brume, despite the danger.

The scar in his abdomen twinged in pain from the cold, reminding him of what had happened the last time he had thought to take that route, and he sighed. As he stood, seized by indecision and getting colder by the moment, his eyes fell on the Forgotten Knight, barely visible through the snow. The light in its windows called to him, the siren song of warmth and companionship far more tempting now when set against a long walk home in the dark and the cold, to an empty bed.

May the Fury have mercy on this lovesick fool, he thought with a sigh, and turned towards the tavern. The back of his mind cursed him soundly, but he could not alter his course. And so he stepped through the door, cloaked and hooded, attempting to attract as little attention as possible as he made his way to the counter. Fortunately, the tavern was all but empty, the patrons either driven home or to their beds in the inn by the weather.

Gibrillont raised his eyebrows as Aymeric approached, immediately recognizing him. “Well. ‘Twould seem I have the honor of hosting two important personages tonight,” he muttered under his breath as he wiped out a tankard with a rag that looked barely clean enough to do any good at all.

Aymeric leveled a look at the former knight of House Haillenarte. “I do my best to keep myself and those under my command well clear of your business, ser, and you have prospered for it,” he said, and the man grunted in response. “On the morrow, I will continue that practice. I only ask for two things: that you keep my presence here quiet, and –”

“Give you her room number?”

Aymeric groaned internally. A poorly kept secret, indeed. Unsure of what to say that might leave his dignity mostly intact, he simply stared at Gibrillont until the man sighed and nodded.

“Under one condition. That you not be using my establishment for your ‘clandestine meetings.’ I’ve a reputation to uphold, I’ll have you know, and sheltering slumming members of the peerage ain’t part of it.”

He could not quite squash the urge to argue the man’s claims, though doubtless it would fall on deaf ears. “I assure you, ‘twas merely the weather that drove me here.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that. Second floor, third door on the left. Don’t come cryin’ t’ me for a room if she throws you out on yer arse the way she did the last man I saw her take up there. We’re full up.”

Aymeric ignored the obvious jab – Kaede’s business was her own, and he was well aware of her extensive romantic past – and nodded in thanks before heading towards the stairs at a pace that could not quite be called unseemly.

Before he could think better of this entire mad plan, he was in front of her door, lightly rapping his knuckles against it. For a long moment, there was silence, and he was left with the internal debate of if he should knock again or just head home in defeat.

Fortunately, he was saved from his nervous indecision by the door cracking open and beautiful blue eyes staring blearily up at him.

Oh gods, he’d woken her up.

“What is it – wait. Aymeric? Is everything okay?” Her gaze sharpened, Warrior of Light rapidly replacing the tired woman before him, and he cursed himself for a fool. Of course she would think something was wrong, with him showing up in the middle of the damned night.

“No – I mean, yes, everything is fine. I merely –” he stumbled a bit, before shaking his head, the excuse about the weather dying unspoken on his tongue. “I heard you were here, and I wanted to see you.”

The reason sounded so juvenile to his ears, but… it was the truth.

A blink, and she was simply Kaede again, her surprise slowly giving way to a small, private smile. “Oh. Well. I didn’t think you’d still be up, or I would have come by.”

“For once, my propensity for working late does me a service. I must confess, I missed you fiercely.” The admission rolled easily off his tongue, and her smiled widened a bit in response.

Tucking a rogue lock of hair behind one of her horns in a gesture he was thrilled to recognize as one of flirtation, Kaede stepped back and waved a hand towards the room. “Would you like to come in? It’s not anything fancy, but it seems a shame to come all this way and then stand around in the hallway.”

Suddenly aware that they had, indeed, been doing just that, he ducked into the room and shrugged out of his snow-damp cloak as she shut the door behind her.

Turning to her, Aymeric opened his mouth to ask what brought her to Ishgard, when he found himself seized by the front of the coat and yanked down into a kiss, desperate and hungry. Off balance in more ways than one, he braced one hand against the door frame, the other sliding beneath heavy gold hair to curl, possessively, around the back of her neck. He had not intended, but gods, he had wanted…

Still, when Kaede finally relaxed her grip on him and slowly lowered herself back down from her tiptoes, he shook his head. “I swear to you, I did not come here for –”

Irritation flashed across Kaede’s face, and she sighed. “Aymeric. Do you really want to stand around making small talk a bell past midnight in a vain attempt to spare whatever tiny shreds of virtue I have left?”

Whatever protests he had meant to make caught in his throat as she stared up at him expectantly. The truly foolish thing had been to forget, even for a moment, that her directness was one of the many things he loved about her. “I… no. I do not.”

“Good, because neither do I. There will be plenty of time for talking in the morning. Right now, I would like to go back to bed, and I would very much like you to join me.”

“As my lady commands,” her murmured, before dipping down and pressing another kiss to her mouth, slower than hers had been, but no less heated. When they broke away again, there was a flush to her cheeks and a sparkle in her eyes despite the fatigue, and there was a part of him that was proud indeed to have put it there. “Let me get out of this damned armor, and I am utterly at your disposal.”

–

Later, as they dressed in the dim pre-dawn light, Aymeric finally felt compelled to speak that which she had forestalled him from saying the night before. “Kaede.”

“Hmmm?” came the distracted, tired reply, and he felt a twinge of guilt for having woken her up from and shortened her much needed rest, but he forged on anyway.

Setting aside his surcoat for the moment, he walked over to her and looped his arms around her midsection, tugging her back so she stood flush against him. “I just want you to know,” he murmured, “that I do not take anything that happens between us lightly. That everything I do is rooted in respect for you, and in affection. That me coming to see you tonight was not a craving of the flesh, but a yearning of the heart.”

She went still in his arms, then let out a slow, controlled breath. “Careful, ser, or else I might think you were attempting to confess something.”

Her tone was trying for light and playful, but there was a tightness in it, and he did not know if it was born from hope, or fear.

Here was the moment, the crossroads. He could laugh and let the moment pass, and they could continue as they had been – more than friends, yes, but with no promises yet made. He could let her leave him again, for the Fury only knew how long, without saying the words that burned within him, that underscored his every thought and action towards her.

The mere thought was agony, and he could not bear it.

“And if I am?”

There was a long pause, and Aymeric’s heart sank as Kaede slowly extricated herself from his arms, gathering her boots and refusing to look at him. When she spoke, it was to the floor, her hair fallen in a curtain to shield her face from view. “I cannot be what you want me to be.”

The last time he had seen her, she had let slip her insecurities that what lay between them was not meant to last; that sooner or later he would tire of her wanderings, and seek out a wife and an heir as befit his station. He had attempted to reassure her, but held himself back from making any grand statements – it had felt too soon, their relationship too fragile, and to place too much pressure on it would be to have it dissolve like a soap bubble. But though she had seemed satisfied with his answers then, doubt had clearly set in in his absence.

Aymeric let out a frustrated sigh. “I do not want you to be anything or anyone else, only to be as you are.”

When she did not answer him, he knelt on the splintered wooden floorboards in front of her, sweeping her hair back and drawing her chin up, so that she might meet his eyes. There was apprehension in them, and blatant misery, but also longing.

He wished he knew who had made her so damned sure that she would eventually be tossed aside like refuse, that she would respond to love with fear.

Withholding the depth of his feelings had done nothing to secure her trust in him, so this time, he would give her the truth in its entirety.

“I love you, Kaede. Deeply, fiercely, as I have not felt before in all my life. There is naught either of us can say or do that will change that fact. And though duty demands much of us both, I will take whatever you can give me, and give all of myself I can spare in return.”

Aymeric watched as she turned his words over, her face a mixture of emotions that he could not begin to identify. Finally, she landed on a small, sad smile as she reached out and pressed a palm to his cheek. “You deserve better than that. You deserve someone who can give you all of their time, not just scraps of it.”

“As do you. But what either of us ‘deserves’ matters very little to me in this moment. I care only for what I want, and what I believe you do, as well.”

And may all the Twelve have mercy on him if he was wrong.

“I –”

Whatever she had been about to say was lost as the insistent ringing of her linkpearl, the same that had awoken them in the early hours of the morning, shattered the moment. She let her hand drop from his face and turned back to finish lacing her boots. “I have to go. I don’t want to, but…”

“I understand.”

And he did. Gods, if he understood anything about her, it was this. Even though it hurt, he stood when she did, and did not attempt to bridge the gap between them again.

He thought she might leave it like that, words unspoken and hanging in the air, but he watched her jaw clench and release as she pulled her hair back into a hasty ponytail, rather than her customary elaborate braid, and then she turned back to him, determination in her eyes. “I do want to finish this conversation, I just need to… think on it, a bit.”

“You will come back?”

“I will. I promise.”

The resolve in her voice went a lot way towards quieting the unease in his heart, as did the way she pulled him down into a kiss that was a softer, sweeter echo of the night before.

And then she was gone.

Aymeric raked a hand through his hair, and sighed. Much more of this uncertainty and he would nearly welcome the war that lay on the horizon. At least then, he would have a distraction.