theazureblade

[theazureblade]

"--Oh! Didnae expect you tae keep those clothes," Meiko was surprised to see Aymeric was wearing at least the tunic he had purchased in Ul'dah, albeit under a coat. "Not overly thin for Coerthan cold, then?"

It was a rare warm day in Coerthas - relatively so, anyway - a day where the sun was out melting just a touch of the snow. A blessing and a curse; when the temperature inevitably dipped again, the melted snow would freeze again into ice and make travel hazardous at best.

But that was a worry for a later time. Right now, while the sun was out, Aymeric was going to enjoy it. He still wore a coat, of course, but he had lighter clothing underneath it.

Clothing that he hadn't really expected to be recognized.

Clothing from Ul'dah, to commemorate their time at the Gold Saucer.

He smiled in memory of their time there together. He had been hesitant about it at first, but once he had that mug of ale in him, he had loosened up a bit and had had a nice time there. He wasn't much inclined to talk of such things, but Meiko knew he had enjoyed himself, at the very least.

"Not on a day like this," Aymeric replied as they walked. "We have to enjoy what little in the way of warmth we get, so it seemed like a proper occasion for it."

[theazureblade]

Aymeric was not certain his lineage had provided him with anything akin to the leadership skills necessary to steer Ishgard into a new direction, but he’d be damned if he didn’t at least try. He owed that to his home, and perhaps that was the gift his father had left for him – the debt of lying to a nation for a thousand years.

His thoughts turned outwards as Ambrose kept talking, revealing a sad story about a young boy who had lost his mother and was blamed for her disappearance. It was a much sadder story than his, all things considered.

Did all things happen for a reason? Would Ambrose have come to them if he had not been blamed for his mother’s apparent death? Was Aymeric even allowed to wonder such a thing?

Aymeric let out a quiet sigh and squeezed his hands together briefly. “It is...unfortunate. I would ask my own father many questions, could I ever just speak to him as a father. I can only assume you feel the same about your own father. But we cannot ever truly know another man’s heart, can we? I am certain that there was more going on in your father’s mind than we can ever know. Not that this excuses his actions, but…”

He shook his head. “I have to believe there is a reason behind things like this. Something we simply cannot see. Man is not...inherently evil. Certainly, there are some that are irredeemable, and I would not presume to suggest otherwise. But I believe we all came from the same place, and circumstances and our own nurturing changes us.

“Perhaps – and forgive me, for I know not what your life was like in the forest – but perhaps it is for the better that neither of us grew up with our fathers in our lives.”

"Tis but a natural curiosity. To wish to know from where you came. " He responds simply. He knows where he is from, but he doesn't know much else other than the name of it and a vague memory of the views there. He hasn't been for many years and thinks it unlikely he will return. "You were blessed to have the Borels, and . . . though things turned out poorly, to have found him was fortunate too."

He wonders what would have differed. " Things would be different, otherwise. You have an opportunity now to mold Ishgard and lead it to a better, safer future. " Distracting himself with encouraging others was a good idea, but he feels he owes it at least to open up a little to Aymeric.

"Truth be told, I do not know what became of my mother. " He says. " I searched for hours, but found nought more than the bloodied rag that started the search. My father found me some hours later clutching at it. " He shifts, ears drooping noticeably. He'd not even shared this with Haurchefant. "She was not found, and they presumed her dead. I could provide no defense when they questioned me and my father, in his grief- " he takes a breath. "- he blamed me, and I was exiled from the forest. "

He exhales. "It's been twenty-three years since then. " He'd celebrated his thirty-fourth name day here; all had been invited to the gathering they'd had. " It.... gets easier, is what I am saying, I think. " It hasn't for him, but he's certain it will for Aymeric.

[theazureblade]

Halone above, it was worse than Aymeric had thought. X’kijin could barely speak, he was so cold, shaking like a leaf in Aymeric’s foyer. Well, that at least could be remedied. It was much warmer inside the house, and warmer still in the sitting room, where a fire was roaring in the hearth.

Once the miqo’te was sitting down, Aymeric called for one of his servants and instructed them to make a pot of tea and to start a fire in the guest bedroom. With that taken care of, he went himself to fetch some towels – he already had a small staff working at the house, and there were fewer still in today due to the inclement weather. He had sent the staff that did not live in home at the first sign of the blizzard.

Towels gathered, he brought them back to the sitting room and offered them to X’kijin. “Dry off as best you can. I will loan you some clothing to wear for the evening, for you are not going anywhere in this weather. You shall sleep in my guest room this evening.” Aymeric’s tone left no room to disagree with him.

He supposed there had to be some reason for X’kijin to come out, whether or not he had checked with the skywatchers first. Perhaps something important, even, for it was well known that most miqo’tes did not agree with the cold. And although X’kijin had gotten lost for a time, it was still late enough in the evening that Aymeric had been relaxing in the sitting room with his post dinner paperwork.

“So, I must ask, what was so important that this conversation could not wait for better weather?” he wondered.

— CONTINUED FROM HERE ;; ( @theazureblade )

There was never a time that X'kijin had been good with cold weather. Rather, it was always a rather sad affair with him. He hailed from the hotter, more arid parts of Gyr Abania and later spent much of his time in the Black Shroud, which was certainly muggy come summer.

He did not do well in colder climes, but Ishgard had been hell even when he'd first come here. The cold cut through his clothes like they were made of wet paper, most especially when the wind blew.

Rhalgr preserve him, he had not expected a blizzard.

It was luck—or the lack thereof, given his title—that allowed him so many friends in Ishgard that kept their doors open to him, where the Forgotten Knight had shuttered its own to keep the warmth of the hearth inside instead of more snow blowing in.

"D-didn't check the weather," he said, though he evidently should have. It was a thought that had occurred to him far too late when he'd been out in the midst of it and noticed the sharp drop in temperature the biting wind besides. He'd idled for a few agonizing minutes, tucked away from the wind's wrath, before he realized there was little chance of a break in it.

They didn't get blizzards in the Black Shroud nor in Gyr Abania. This kind of weather wasn't even common to Coerthas until a few years past, when the Calamity brought to it unseasonably cold winters. So he'd ended up going to Aymeric.

The boots and the jacket came off, as instructed. One would think that shedding the extra layer would make him colder, but being guided nearer the fire made a world of difference.

"Thanks..." he said with a sigh that shook almost as much as he did. X'kijin cupped his chilled hands near his face and breathed into his hands in an effort to warm his poor nose. "Sor... Sorry... Should've..."

He paused, the words difficult and slow as he struggled to get around the chill to say them. X'kijin might've been embarrassed, if not for how cold he was, and he probably would be much later.

"I'll... I'll be more careful next time..."

[theazureblade]

Good. The miqo’te was shivering. A good sign, meant that he was already warming up. Aymeric could practically recite the handbook for dealing with hypothermia in his sleep, and being too cold to shiver was a particularly bad sign. He could tell that M’Kairen wasn’t fully out of the woods, however, because his skin was still particularly icy to the touch. Aymeric was fairing better by some, but a little warmth wouldn’t hurt him either. Skin to skin was particularly effective, for whatever reason.

“A dusting?” Aymeric echoed, amused in spite of himself. Maybe a decade ago, there could have been a dusting here and there, but the snow had not left the ground since the Calamity. “I’m afraid this is not all that uncommon these days,” he admitted. “Although our skywatchers did not anticipate this storm. They tend to whip up quickly and without much in the way of warning.”

It was...uncomfortable, to sit shirtless with a near stranger, for certain, but the other option was unacceptable. Awkward it would be, but Aymeric would keep M’Kairen talking.

“Perhaps the news has not spread as far as I would have thought,” he commented, “but I’m afraid our winters are rather famous for...well, not ending. Ever. This is our every day life, now, since the Calamity.

“Worry not, though – the storms blow over as fast as they come up, so we’ll be on our way soon, I’m sure.”

It's colder than ought he's ever experienced. Sharlayan doesn't have the warmest winters, but Ishgard is something M'Kairen doesn't think he could have ever anticipated. The Miqo'te shakes and shivers as they set up the shelter from the blizzard, and once he's sat by the heater, it gets to a point where he can't really focus on much else. He's never been this cold before, but he knows the risks of it. Knows that if he gets any colder and falls to sleep, he will die.

And he can't do that: not when he's here to help heal a beloved friend of Aymeric's.

As Aymeric helps him out of the wet clothes, M'Kairen shivers more. Though he feels oddly warm-- dangerous, he thinks. Every part of his body screams against Aymeric's next suggestion, of crossing together for warmth - he's hot, it tells him - but the medic in him can still claw its way through with reason. He's dipping into hypothermia, and if he doesn't actually warm up....

He shakes the thoughts off, ears pinned back against his head to conserve warmth, but also for is inherent dislike for being wet. The thought of being exposed hasn't crossed his mind, too cold to be embarrassed. He struggles closer to Aymeric when he's held, curling up as best he can.

"Q-Quite the g-good idea. " He says, lifting his mismatched gaze upward. He's so small in comparison to Aymeric. Even sat down, the Elezen towers over him. " W-when you said snow I had th-- thought perhaps a d-dusting. This storm is...o-out of the ordinary, I a-assume? "

[theazureblade]

Aymeric had to admit that yes, he was having a surprisingly good time.

He did not have time to affirm this was the case, however, before the next round started. He gave Meiko a quick nod as she explained to him what was going on. A bonus round, it seemed, was in play. He wasn’t entirely certain what the tokens could be used for, so it was an easy incentive to avoid the piles of them when Daigoro came around.

The doglike creature proved a tad more difficult to dodge, but Aymeric did his best. Again, it was not unlike training exercises back home, and so he had a built in advantage. Another Elezen tumbled from the stage after going for a pile of tokens, the dog relentless in his hunt.

He dodged the dog one more time before it seemed the round was over. He was zero tokens richer, but he felt no need to go after them at this point.

“What’s next?” he asked Meiko once the dog left the stage. He glanced around and realized with some surprise that they were nearly the only ones left.

"Aye, you havin' fun?!" Meiko grinned.

A Lalafell was slapped off the stage by a falling bamboo column and went flying.

"Ah, poor bitch," Meiko tsk'd and then ran again to dodge another falling tower of bamboo.

After they dodged a few more bamboo columns, Yojimbo sheathed his sword suddenly.

"Thank your lucky stars Zanmato thirsts not for your blood," he called out. "This is as far as you go!"

Coins now rained down into five little piles around the stage. Meiko moved quickly to Aymeric's side.

"S'just a bonus round," she explained. "You get more tokens if you stop an' grab some from the piles, but he's gonna send his dog around. If th'dog catches you, you're out."

Yojimbo whistled and his dog bounded up onto the stage.

"Go, Daigoro!"

"Get ready an' dinnae be greedy!"

[theazureblade]

finished my drafts over here! they should be coming out of my queue for the next few days <3

[theazureblade]

calling ur dad “my father” is just the socially acceptable way of saying “my dads a bastard and i hate him”

[theazureblade]

Biological father(derogatory)

[theazureblade]

8. justice - truth, integrity, consequence, fairness, balance.

others

[theazureblade]

Aymeric hadn't been aware there would be a crowd watching, but he wasn't opposed to showing off a little. He instructed drills frequently, with knights watching his form to mimic it, so a crowd wasn't that intimidating. Besides, there were plenty of other people they might be watching on the stage.

Yojimbo might have been fast, but Aymeric was faster – or, perhaps more accurately, fast enough to anticipate where the bamboo would fall. He quickly moved out of the way, moving right along with Meiko to a clear area of the stage. Would that he had his own sword and could clear his own path – but alas, that was not the point of the exercise.

A few of the people competing with them were knocked off the stage by the first cut, and the second cut happened just as fast. Aymeric fled to safety, barely even pausing to marvel at the size of the overly giant bamboo as he did so. This one was split straight up and down, reducing the amount of safe areas on the stage.

Aymeric found himself next to Meiko again, and he gave her a brief smile. “Interesting game, for certain,” he told her as a third piece of bamboo appeared on the stage.

A crowd had come to gather around the main stage, with a few folks lined up chanting Yojimbo's name as he arose from a platform from down below.

Without much more of an introduction, Yojimbo drew a mighty blade.

"Behold, the sword art of legend -- Zanmato!"

A near-hilariously large bamboo pillar abruptly rose out of the center of the platform. Meiko let out a snicker of excitement, bouncing where she stood.

"Get ready! He's a fast fucker," Meiko enthused.

In a flash of light, Yojimbo had sliced the bamboo in a sharp diagonal. As the bamboo's top half began to slide, Meiko took off running with a handful of other competitors to one side of the arena!

[theazureblade]

[ EMBRACE ]: receiver wraps their arms around the sender and holds them close in an effort to conserve body heat during a snow storm. // M'Kairen. 🙈 @eorzeasaved

@eorzeasaved

The snow shelter was erected, the aetheric heater turned on, and M'Kairen was still dripping wet and not quite shivering. His lips were blue, and his eyes were wide, and he seemed to be having some trouble moving his fingers. All bad signs.

The snowstorm had blown in quickly, even faster than Aymeric had expected it to when he saw the telltale signs of a blizzard on the horizon. They had stopped in their journey from Mor Dhona as soon as it became apparent that they wouldn't make it to Whitebrim before the storm hit, and together, they had erected a snow shelter.

But it wasn't enough. M'Kairen wasn't used to the cold, being a Sharlayan scholar and not an Ishgardian soldier. He was only coming to Ishgard for one reason, and that reason was Aymeric's dear friend, so he had been the one to come fetch the miqo'te. They had known each other for a mere two days, and things were about to become very intimate between them.

Aymeric sighed as he shrugged off his armor and cape. Below it, he had plenty of layers on, but it seemed like M'Kairen had not known how to dress for the cold. He did not have layers on, so when Aymeric helped him out of his wet clothing, he was down to a pair of long underwear, heavy snow boots, and nothing else.

“Come here,” Aymeric instructed, motioning for M'Kairen to join him in front of the heater. Once the other man was sitting down in the packed down snow, Aymeric slid behind him and wrapped his arms around the much smaller miqo'te. “Pardon the awkwardness of my gesture. We need to conserve body heat.”

[theazureblade]

Aymeric is not sure what to say to that. The words are kind and mean something special coming from a man like Ambrose, but at the same time, he feels a little as though he doesn't deserve them. It isn't as though he was completely without a paternal influence, after all. His adoptive parents, while gone now, were good to him.

“I - thank you. I confess I do not know much about your father, other than what you have told me today,” he says, his tone leaking empathy. He took a step back so that he could finally sit down in a nearby chair brought in for that very purpose. “I cannot fathom a world where the Warrior of Light's own parents do not recognize him for all his accomplishments.

“You should know, as well, that I was not completely without fatherly affection,” he continues. “My mother passed on when I was but a boy, and I was taken in by the Borels. They loved me like I was their own. It was my own fascination with my birth father that led me to crave his affection, not anything they did wrong.”

He rather...does not want to speak of this anymore. But that is hardly Ambrose's fault. He does not wish to speak about any of what is going on, not really.

Aymeric's honesty is appreciated and sympathized with wholeheartedly. Ambrose is reminded of his own father and how things were for him. It's painful even now, decades later. Ambrose struggles to understand it, how a parent can do as their fathers have. Especially given his adoration for the youngest of the scions. He couldn't imagine not being proud of Alphinaud for all he's done. Even with his mistakes, the young Elezen has achieved more than most of his peers in his short life.

Couldn't imagine casting him out, as his own father had.

It made his stomach turn.

" Seems we pulled the short straw with fathers. " He observes, taking another look to ensure he's healed all that he can before letting his hands fall back to his knees. He remains there, knelt by Aymeric for some time, with his eyes on his hands. There's a flash of an image - a bloodied rag - that he shakes off quickly by squeezing his eyes shut. The memory fades quickly, and he opens his eyes to look up at Aymeric.

" It must have been difficult, " he says, frowning. " While my father did what he did, he was good to me before that. " Both his parents had been good, really. " I suppose I was lucky in that sense. For what it's worth, I'd be proud to call you my son, were I in his shoes. " He shrugs, looking aside. " I think he knew you were the better man. Better suited for all of this, which scared him, because it meant that he would lose the power he had amassed as arch-bishop. . fear does not excuse how he treated you. You deserved better, Aymeric. "

[theazureblade]

The game sounded simple enough. Don't get hit by a bamboo stick, don't get got by a dog. Aymeric was well acquainted with combat exercises, and it did not sound so very different from some of the drills he regularly put himself through. And if all you got was the wind knocked out of you when you failed, well, that in and of itself was nicer than drills.

“Seems simple enough,” Aymeric agreed, taking his place on the stage. He wasn't used to being able to move so freely without his armor, so this should be a simple task. He assumed.

"Yeah! I mean, s'not actually hittin' you with anythin' sharp," Meiko motioned for him to follow her. "Worst case you get th'wind knocked outta you, but s'not bad."

She led him down to the appropriate arena, chatted with another bunny-eared lass, and then waved for him to follow her on stage.

"Big lad from th'Far East named Yojimbo'll pop up on stage an cut down some big bamboo sticks," she tried to explain as simply as she could. "Just dinnae get hit by them! An' if we make it tae th'bonus round, just dinnae get caught by his dog!"

[theazureblade]

“The hero of Ishgard, gathering building materials for us? Would that we could deny we needed the help!” Aymeric said, not really at all surprised that she had offered. Maybe he had known she would offer, maybe he had planned on it.

“You are of course not obligated to help – you are ever welcome within these walls, regardless, for what you've already done for us. We would be even further in your debt if you were to help us gather building materials. But we can hardly afford to refuse either. Your help would be much appreciated.”

"That so? It was already a snow hellscape when I arrived in Eorzea so I didn't know that." Well, kind of. She had heard about it from texts and conversations with the Scions but.

She listened as he described recent problems, chin on her hand with a quiet hum. Some of it sounded like it wasn't anything she could help with, but materials...? She could help with that.

"I've got time on my hands, if you want me to go around gathering things for your construction crews."

[theazureblade]

“And that is exactly why,” Aymeric was saying as the waitress came to collect their plates, “I intend to make a shelter for cats.” He was feeling much looser after finishing his drink, and he had regaled Meiko with his ideas for more passionate projects, over the practical ones.

The announcement puzzled him a bit, but Meiko brightened at the sound of it. “Dodging attacks? They made combat games for the Gold Saucer?” he wondered as he followed her toward the Wonder Square. What a bizarre place.

"Aye. An' I hope that day comes," she nodded. "So long as whoever two or three folk replaces you has th'same genuine intentions, Ishgard'll be fine."

They finished up their meal soon after, keeping conversation light. As the waitress cleared away their plates, an announcement came on over the loudspeaker:

"The next GATE shall begin in a quarter bell. Please make your way to the nearest GATE Attendant to participate in the Slice Is Right."

"Ah! We should do that one!" Meiko spun to face Aymeric with a grin. "S'just dodgin' wee attacks! You're good at that!"

[theazureblade]

There is little response, only the twitch of Estinien's nose and...is that a smile?

It's gone almost as soon as it appears, leaving Aymeric to wonder if he had seen anything at all. Estinien so rarely smiles that it seems at first he must have imagined it, but why would his mind play at that in the first place? The only other explanation is that Estinien did smile in his sleep – or maybe...maybe he isn't asleep at all.

Hmm.

“You know, I purposely used the bath salt that you hate to annoy you into waking, but I did not particularly believe it would work,” Aymeric went on, narrowing his gaze at Estinien's sleeping form.

It stinks in here.

That's the first thing he notices as his mind starts to drift back to consciousness. It stinks of one of Aymeric's fancy perfumed baths. His awareness is drawn next to noise. No-- not noise. Someone is speaking. Adding one to the other tells him it's Aymeric who is talking, and while he wishes he'd shut up, Estinien is glad it's him and not some unfortunate chirurgeon on the receiving end of his just-woke-up grumbling.

Slowly, Aymeric's words start to become more than just a rumble. As it all becomes clearer, he begins to comprehend them. Sentiment, it seems, is Aymeric's choice in conversation, and while Estinien would usually brush it all off, huff and tell whoever it was to stop being such a sentimental idiot; for now he lets himself milk it. Aymeric thinks he's unconscious; there's no harm in letting him keep talking when it's . . . nice?

He thinks it's nice. Like a confession meant to make the hearts of maidens flutter. Something in him feels warm with it, and before he can stop it, his lips are curling upward in a ghost of a smile. He rectifies it as quick as he can, straight-faced less than a second later in hopes that Aymeric keeps sweet-talking him.

[theazureblade]

“All right, perhaps my cook has...less than ample experience with imported greens,” Aymeric admitted, still quite amused. It tasted a little bland, he could admit, but that was fine. He was trying to be fancy. “Of course I've seen a lettuce. You do know Coerthas was not always covered in snow, right?”

With that, came an abrupt subject change. “Fortunately, not much here. We are still rebuilding, you know,” Aymeric started, and he prepared to talk at length about the minor problems they were facing – lack of construction materials and the like.

"Ishgardian cuisine is fine. What's not fine is passing a leaf off as a salad green." She was kind of insulted that he was eating what looked an awful lot like an oak leaf. "Have you ever seen a lettuce?"

She was going to feed him real food.

Pointedly she bites into her steak, amused. "Anything new happening in your neck of the woods? Tural was exciting."