#uhhh small trivias since you got this far:

[wildberrypunch]

again

[ids in alt]

[kivaember]

Prompt #21: Repast

“You’re scrawnier than I thought.”

“Elezen are naturally lean,” Aymeric replied amicably, trying not to be put off by the intense, near-predatory stare boring into him, “We do not pile on muscle easily like you Xaela.”

“Hmm,” said his companion.

His companion being, specifically, Aza’s mother. She was tall for a Xaela woman, built like a destrier Chocobo with a brusque temperament to match, and possessing long, grey-streaked hair scraped back into a loose ponytail. She looked young for her supposed sixty years, even with the harsh lines pulling at the corners of her mouth and crinkling the corners of her eyes, and her body still looked strong and sturdy beneath her sturdy hunting tunics.

Strong enough to snap him over her knee like a twig, if Aza’s whispered warnings before they stepped into the yurt were anything to go by. He wasn’t keen to test if that had been an exaggeration or not – not only out of fear of discovering that prodigious strength was true, but because getting into a physical fight with his partner’s mother probably wasn’t the correct way to go about this.

“Aym’s pretty built beneath that armour,” Aza piped up at his side, “He’s Lord Commander of Ishgard’s military force, so he has to be strong for it.”

Aza’s mother, Atani, hummed again, her gaze taking on a shrewd edge to it, “Lord Commander…” she repeated, her voice thick with the accent of the Steppe. She knew Eorzean Common surprisingly well, despite Aza confessing it wasn’t her second or even third language, “Is that like a khagan?”

Aymeric glanced at Aza questioningly.

“Uh, yeah. Kinda,” Aza scratched his cheek in a clearly nervous gesture, “He’s the strongest warrior, leads the Ishgardian warriors into battle. Smart too, and, umm...”

Truthfully, Aymeric would place Estinien and several others above himself in terms of martial strength and intelligence, but he said nothing as Atani, once more, hummed and let the matter drop entirely – just in time for their last companion, Aza’s father, Aruci, to sweep next to their table and set down a large, steaming pot in the middle: the family hotpot Aza promised him when inviting him to the meal.  

“Atani, stop intimidating the poor boy,” Aruci chided gently, easing himself down on the floor with creaking knees, “He’s here as our guest.”

“If he finds this intimidating, then he’s too soft, isn’t he?” Atani said idly, then shot Aymeric’s way almost lazily, “Are you intimidated?”

“Not particularly,” Aymeric said truthfully. Compared to Nidhogg, or even Hraesvelgr, Atani’s intimidation was tolerable and like water off a mudpuppy’s back. There was only so much your glares could do when lacking the terrifying jaws of a furious, hungry dragon to go with it, “Mildly threatened, perhaps, but not intimidated.”

“Hah!” Atani leaned back, slapping a hand on her thigh, “Oh, I like this one,” she said to Aza, pointing rudely at Aymeric, “He’s bold.”

“Don’t I know it,” Aza grumbled, but he was looking pleased and incredibly relieved. No doubt he was happy this whole meeting was going so well – and that no one had been stabbed yet, an alarming possibility that was allegedly common with Xaela tribes in these situations according to Aza. It was why his partner had been so insistent he wore light armour for the meal, even if the noble upbringing in Aymeric squirmed at the perceived insult of it.

“You know, Aza speaks very warmly of you,” Aruci said in a surprisingly gentle, placid tone as he began spooning out the hotpot into everyone’s respective bowls. His hands were rough, calloused and gnarled, but still steady and strong. Aza mentioned he was a renowned crafter, and it showed, “Every time he comes home, he’s always eager to share affectionate tales about you.”

“And Bluebird the risqué ones,” Atani added teasingly, her mouth curving into a very Bluebird-esque smile when Aza turned an adorable shade of red, “Oh, come now, my little Coeurl, don’t be shy! It’s good to have a partner that satisfies you both emotionally and-”

“Okay!” Aza said a little too loudly, waving his hands frantically, “Can we please not talk about my sex life at the dinner table?”  

“I guess it is a poor subject to start off with,” Atani admitted grudgingly, her focus sliding back to Aym with her smile shifting back into too-predatory, “Instead, why not tell us how you two came together? Aza has been so secretive about it…”

At that, Aymeric and Aza shared a brief look. Their ‘coming together’ had been due to copious amounts of alcohol, Aza puking on his boots after publicly confessing his love on top of a table at a dinner party, followed by a very awkward conversation during the unpleasant throes of being hungover. There had been nothing romantic about it – it had been raw, emotionally exhausting, yet… good, in an odd way.

Of course, Aza avoided him for three weeks afterwards before Aymeric could pin him down and get a straight answer out of him regarding what they were but, well, that hungover, emotional talk had been the real start to their… relationship. Sort of.  

There was no pretty or gentle way to explain this, though. It had been a mess from start to finish.

“Um, well…” Aza cleared his throat, his left ear flicking nervously, “Bluebird didn’t tell you?”

“Your sister has a big mouth on many things,” Atani said bluntly, “But even she can be discreet about others. She hasn’t told us.”

“Oh,” Aza looked as surprised as Aymeric felt, “Well, uhhh, so… we got together after a… party…”

Aymeric had to hide a helpless smile behind his hand. Aza was such a terrible liar, and his partner stuttered and awkwardly talked around the unsavoury parts of the story under his mother’s far too knowing gaze.

“…and then we decided to give it a shot,” Aza finished his highly abridged and redacted tale, “And here we are, two years later.”

“Two years later,” Atani echoed, sharing a look with her husband, “Well, you really do seem happy.”

“I am,” Aza said firmly, sitting up straighter and looking his mother straight in the eyes, “I’m very happy with Aym. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Well. Well. Aymeric was suddenly very glad he had a bowl of hotpot to distract himself with at that bold declaration. His heart felt like it was doing something very squishy and potentially medically fatal, unable to stop the no doubt stupid, lovesick smile curling his mouth. There was something so good to hear that, if only because Aza had been so sad and lonely at the beginning, almost lost and hesitant to get attached and love. To hear him boldly declare his happiness now was…

“I can see that…” Atani murmured very softly, and something complicated flickered across her expression.

Aruci settled a hand over Atani’s, giving it a squeeze, “We’re happy for you, Aza. You’ve come a long way since we first took you in. We’re both proud of you.”

Atani gave herself a bit of a shake, motherly warmth filling her expression and chasing away the shadows that had lurked there, “So very proud. I always knew you had the better taste in men than your sister-”

“Mom,” Aza protested, his face was bright red at this point and his eyes suspiciously teary.

“-I mean, he’s leagues better than that Felyx,” Atani finished with a roll of her eyes, “Do you know Felyx, Aymeric?”

Aymeric knew Felyx very well. Bluebird had delighted in telling him that Aza’s fellow adventurer used to be a ‘fuck buddy’ when his relationship with his partner had been new and tentative. Looking back, he suspected Bluebird had been testing him, gauging his jealousy – Aymeric didn’t care. Aza wasn’t the disloyal sort, and whatever was between him and Felyx was no longer sexual. He had simply filed that fact away as an interesting piece of trivia and never thought about it in depth again.  

“We’ve met,” he said simply, “He gets around, from what I hear.”

“He’s not that bad,” Aza grumbled, “Just because he’s open about being poly-”

“Your sister wanted to marry him,” Atani said flatly, and Aza choked on the rest of his words.

“W-W-W-Wh-” Aza coughed and drew in a deep breath… if only to shriek; “What!?”

“Huh,” Aymeric said, trying to see it and failing. Bluebird, wanting to marry someone? It boggled the mind.

“Hah! I see Bluebird didn’t tell you that story!” Atani chortled, slapping her thigh, “Aruci, love, tell Aza about that disaster.”

“Oh, come now, let’s not embarrass her. She’s not even here to defend herself-”

“You have to tell me!” Aza breathed, looking torn between morbid fascination and utter delight, “Please, Dad!”

Aruci sighed, and groaned when Atani playfully ribbed him, but he gave in with a, “Well, three years back…”

“Three years!? That recent!?”

“Let him finish,” Atani scolded.

Aymeric leaned back slightly, relieved that focus had shifted from him to this humiliating tale of Bluebird’s ill-advised marriage proposal. The hotpot was good, he found, his gaze drawn to Aza as his partner drank in the embarrassing story about his sister, admiring how openly happy and relaxed and carefree he was. He looked younger, happier, basking in the presence of his family, adopted or not…

He felt an odd twinge, then – not quite longing but… a realisation that he was missing something he never truly had. Lord Borel had been a good guardian, but he had never been a father. Kind and affectionate, yes, but his love was not unconditional, and there was always an edge of political posturing when it came to Aymeric. He had long made peace with the fact that he had been a chess piece on the board that was Ishgardian politics, and that he never really knew what a proper family was.

But this… hmm. It probably felt a little like this.

Yes, a little.

Content with that, Aymeric settled in, finding contentment in being accepted into the small circle that was Aza’s family, if only for today.