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Aymeric looks a little deflate at that, but not for the reasons that Estinien might assume. Waxing poetic takes himself by surprise sometimes, getting so worked up in what he sees now and both what he can see things become. He knows that he comes from a privileged position to do such. His brows furrow as he tilts his head, before shaking it.

"Rather than see Ishgard through mine own eyes, I would make her a place that you may feel the same."

He smiles then, a little crocked but no less genuine. Estinien has always been more sardonic and sobering and Aymeric has never once held him in less regard for it.

Estinien sees Aymeric deflate at his response and can't help but feel wrong for having inspired that reaction, to deprive Aymeric of his moment through grim observations. He puts out a hand, but then cautiously retracts it, obviously struggling to figure out what to say.

"I do not mean to take away from your enjoyment," he says. Most people he wouldn't mind dragging back down to earth over a subject like this, but with Aymeric... part of him not only believes in his imaginings of their home, but desperately wants to see them fulfilled.

"I... would be glad to visit the place you describe," he adds, still touched by shyness in that unusual way. "Truly."

Aymeric shakes his head again, quick to dissuade his friend of any guilt if he can. Though Aymeric believes himself better at schooling his reactions through necessity and practice, at times he feels so comfortable with Estinien that he feels no reason to, even at expense of his friend's feelings.

"You did not. Do not forget that what your eyes see is just as important. And this...this view, for the first time, I may get to see the city through your eyes. And what a magnificent view it is!"

He gives Estinien's shoulder a squeeze, hoping that it is as reassuring as he means it to be.

"You need not. This place may yet be worthy of your admiration. We shall make it so--together."

It's strange the way that their natures mingle - how Estinien draws Aymeric towards openness, and Aymeric draws Estinien towards kindness. There are few in the world that Estinien would feel guilt for ruffling the feather of, over just about anything. No one is entitled to be shielded from the truth, after all.

Yet, for Aymeric... there is something in him that Estinien wants to see preserved. Even as his friend tries to scale the cliffs of Ishgard's hierarchy, he would see that his heart remains unbroken. In others, he may resent or envy that hope, but not here.

Aymeric touches his shoulder, and it seems that they've been sucked into another one of these moments, Estinien indulging in the touch of another being in a way he often wouldn't. Part of him asks for more, in a way rooted deep in his chest, but his mind is incapable of fully decoding that desire. He lifts his hand, almost as if to touch Aymeric's face, but then seems to realize what he's doing and lays a hand on his arm instead.

"...If we are to make it so, I fear we may have to resign ourselves to actually attending the Fortemps' gathering ere it ends," he says with a little wryness. Though he is fully aware it's mostly his fault, they really haven't done anything to keep up appearances at this point, which he knows isn't what Aymeric was intending on. "Though, I think we may be permitted to linger here a short while longer, if you wish it."

Truthfully, Aymeric lives for these moments. Though he believes they get on well enough on most days, it is times like this where he feels they share a bit of themselves with one another. He can feel it like one might an aether current when traveling between crystals--a tangible thing as real as Estinien's shoulder under his hand. Despite the colder air up at this height, he feels blessedly warm.

For all that Aymeric tries to keep a balanced view, he knows that it is incomplete. He appreciates Estinien's honesty, his drive and passion in his own right. Though his goal has been rooted in sorrow, there is a light that shines in his eyes when he reaches each benchmark, when he spoke of his mail--it has become something a little more and Aymeric only hopes to foster that. That he find a purpose and gladness beyond the bloodshed.

That he have a reason to smile.

And now he seems to and it is more than enough for Aymeric to reflect it tenfold, brightening only more when Estnien returns the gesture. He holds those dear as well, knowing that his friend is much less inclined to physical displays of affection than Aymeric himself is.

"No ball or banquet could top this," he says, glancing away from Estinien to the city for only a moment. "I would like to savor this as long as we can."

For all her flaws...Ishgard is home. And not just to him--to them--to thousands of people. And it is for them all that she must continue to stand.

Aymeric looks thoughtful for a moment, though still smiling when he shifts his gaze back to Estinien.

"I must admit I am a little envious. Mayhaps I should set down my sword and pick up a lance?"

Estinien response with a short laugh, breaking contact after a few lingering moments and moving to swing his legs over the rail at the edge of the landing. It's a nice enough place to sit, even with the cast distance beneath one's feet. Estinien has little to fear from heights at this point.

"Ishgard should have higher hopes for you than to throw yourself at the claws of wyrms," he says. "You are capable of things I find equally unthinkable."

Dragoons are elite combatants, but they are also a role you take on with the expectation that you will likely die while doing it. They are better equipped than most, but also thrown at the direst of situations. Estinien plans to survive out of sheer spite, but he's less willing to imagine Aymeric taking that same risk.

"...Though I am sure you could rise to the occasion, were it to become your calling." It's not that Aymeric isn't a skilled combatant. He's just so much more than that, as well.

Aymeric moves to join the other man, though his motions are much more cautious. He is not afraid of heights, but he is not a fool to believe there is no danger for him in them. He takes care to hold onto some decorative spires as he settles down, peering over the edge and feeling quite a bit like a boy again.

"Entertaining the whims of the aristocracy is a battle in its own right, I shall give you that," he chuckles. Even more so for Estinien, who...well, entertaining them will never be in his set of skills and that is quite all right. Aymeric finds he prefers the other man's gruff nature to the false pleasantries of nobility anyway.

"Would that not be an amusing exercise?" he says as he looks up finally from the fall they could take. "I may have a try with a lance and you could pick up a sword and shield." No seriousness, of course, but training with Estinien has always been enjoyable.

"Although, jests aside, there is actually something I may seek your assistance..."

Estinien spent some time fooling around with swords as a teen, but his true focus was always on the lance, being the discipline of his master and of Ishgard's elite defenders. Nowadays he's sure it would be an awkward sensation with how accustomed he's become to the full-bodied movements of the dragoon.

"I would be more interested in your bow," he says lightly, though the thought doesn't have much chance to get anywhere before Aymeric begins what sounds like a proposition. Estinien's expression falls into one of puzzlement, uncertain despite his general willingness.

"What do you need of me?" he asks in a way that implies he is taking it very seriously. Aymeric said it wasn't a joke, after all.

"You have all ready done me many favors this eve, yet I still have more to ask."

Aymeric exhales slowly, looking down to his right hand as he holds it aloft, fingers curling as if to hold the pummel of a blade.

"Shortly before his passing, my father bequeathed to me Naegling, a sword that had been gifted to him by his father, and so on. That he see me fit to be worthy of such a family heirloom despite the fact we share no blood was humbling, to say the least. I have yet to give her the time she deserves in no small part due to my own hesitance to do her and the family wrong."

He shakes his head, looking back up and towards the other man. "I know these obstacles are of my own creation and I ought not to heed them. I mean to wield the Naegling in the coming days, though I will need practice. She is quite a bit larger than the standard issue blades of the Temple Knights and I feel to properly do so would mean that I adopt a new style, mayhaps removing other tools as necessary. Would you be willing to help, my friend?"

Estinien listens closely. He's glad for the continued reassurance that Aymeric's parents have treated him well despite everything, but he can also comprehend the worries associated with it. Though driven primarily by his own needs, at times Estinien had felt the pressure of Alberic's legacy. He did not doubt himself often, but in the times that he had, Alberic's tutelage would have made his potential failure all the more humiliating.

Thankfully, that never came to pass. He doubts it would with Aymeric, either, but that's not exactly the point.

"I know little of swordplay, but I would be full glad to give my perspective on matters," Estinien says, after a moment. He pauses and then laughs quietly. "...And you are already well aware of how much time I spend in the training yards. You would be ever welcome to join me."

The weight of legacy, however gained, is not one easily shaken. That Estinien might understand the situation has certainly crossed his mind even if his friend is not one to speak on such things. He speaks rarely of Alberic at all and Aymeric respects that privacy, gleaning what he can and accepting what is offered when it does. For all he knows of Estinien Wyrmblood, there is much yet to learn.

He also did not doubt his friend's agreement, though it still makes him smile. Aymeric does believe if he had some other sort of crisis Estinien would want to offer his aid where he could, but the battlefield is really where he shines with confidence.

"I trust that you would only give me your full, unbridled opinion," he says with a hint of amusement. "I had taken notice, yes." An understatement. "Mayhaps I will stop by sometime next week if you are not otherwise engaged. I have the distinct honor of an increasing load of mundane errands to run for my regiment."

Few that have led him onto the battlefield of late, but he never complains when the assignments are passed out. That Aymeric has started to garner more than his fair share is something he has also noticed, but shared not a word of. He has no doubt that it is a test of sorts--of his worth and his blood, both of which he is determined to prove satisfactory.

"Errands?"

Estinien raises an eyebrow, unsure of the meaning of such a statement. After all, in dragoon training, combat is all there is. He hasn't any perspective on how they would treat Temple Knights who have a trajectory besides that. He ends up frowning, after a moment of consideration, not liking the sound of it.

"To what end?" he asks, sounding like he's preemptively ready to become offended. "Have they mistaken you for their squire?"

If it's meant to be some manner of passive-aggressive attack against his friend, he will be very displeased.

Aymeric's mouth hangs open for a moment, but he gives due pause to consider his words before proceeding. Truly, he could complain, yet he knows that would reflect poorly on him. And by the tone in Estinien's voice, he seems all too ready to defend despite the fact that the said offenders are no where near by.

So he just smiles and shakes his head. "Some might find it preferable to stay well-within the city walls than heed the call of battle." Though that paints a poor picture.

Aymeric exhales slowly through his nose. "'Tis a test, as much as anything, and I intend to prove myself no matter how menial the task. You need not think on it, my friend. I would prefer that fervor ready for when I meet you with my sword."

In all honesty, Estinien himself would rather that Aymeric stay away from combat. Not due to any lack of skill, but simply because he knows the battlefield is anything but fair. No matter how formidable Aymeric becomes... there are so many things that could happen. So many ways that Estinien could lose this flicker of comfort.

Especially if the hierarchy itself insists upon undermining his efforts.

Yet, Estinien would not say as much. Aymeric is entitled to stand for himself, he's entitled to fight. In fact, to gain any of the respect he seeks, he may have to. It's simply the way of Ishgardian life. Nobles are expected to defend the city, perhaps more so than any commoner. Either way, Estinien seems reluctant to let it go.

"And how successfully you kowtow to their whims is meant to be a judge of your character?" he says, still struggling to accept it. "I would ask if they are selecting for knights or sycophants, but I think I already know the answer."

With his attempt to deftly wave off the matter with a few words having failed, Aymeric does allow his smile to falter a little. Estinien is right, of course--there could realistically be no real claim, accord, or positive review in Aymeric's future no matter how dutifully he attends to his tasks. He knows, even if he prefers not to think too hard on that aspect.

"I would not be so foolish as to liken these requests to your own trials, yet they are something I must do if I wish to be taken seriously. Whether they have the right of it or not, any step forward I take will be questioned, every step back will be attributed to the circumstances of my birth. I knew this when I enlisted. I am not afraid of the challenge."

Still trying to find a lighter note to the conversation, he thinks on their mutual acquaintance.

"Lord Haurchefant certainly is not and his noble deeds earned him knighthood all the same. Who here is not searching for the opportunity to prove his worth? I need only to grasp it once it makes itself known."

From what Estinien has heard, Lord Haurchefant earned his knighthood by taking an arrow for someone. He's not sure running errands is exactly an equivalent, but in a rare moment of tact, he declines to point that out.

He can't make himself comfortable waiting for chance to clear the path, which is what it feels like sometimes. As much as Aymeric speaks of making opportunities, it often seems as if opportunities come by luck or by having them handed to you by the whimsy of others.

It feels wrong to come to the conclusion that the only way to prove one's worth is to do exactly what the ones that would hold you down ask. All the same, he can tell that Aymeric is not enthusiastic about discussing this, as much as Estinien could continue to complain.

"I am certain the moment will come," he says, cutting himself short. He looks down at the city. "In the meantime, I suppose you will have to make time for our training, if you would truly have a taste of my regimen."

He does appreciate Estinien's relenting on the topic. Truthfully, though it bothers him still, he would rather keep the mood light as they enjoy the view. This is something special, after all, something Estinien has decided to share with him and he wishes to cherish it in a good mood.

Aymeric cocks his head to the side with an easy smile, trying to encourage one from the other man as well as he watches his profile.

"Time I would gladly make. It has been too long since we last faced off on the training grounds. I am keen to see how far your skills have improved."

Estinien has certainly missed serving in the same unit as Aymeric - the one downside to his progress towards the Knights Dragoon. He may be assigned to the same battle these days, but it's more an act of chance than any certainty. Dragoons don't generally get assigned to just any mission - only those with high likelihoods of dire conflict with the horde.

It was an inevitability, but it may be nice to mix up his training with those not of the Order. Surely, experimenting with alternate styles could only benefit his skills in the long run. If he were to be honest, though, he doesn't need a practical excuse.

"Aye," he agrees. "And it has been too long since I was able to keep an eye on you." He's been unaware of what goes on in most of Aymeric's daily work, something that he is realizing now. He usually has little attention to spare outside of his own training.

"...It does not burden me to speak of your difficulties, Aymeric," he adds after a few moments. He's gathered that he seems reluctant to speak of these things right now, but he isn't totally sure of the source.

Their splintering paths would lead to their professional split at some point, this Aymeric knew, but it was not until Estinien really left that Aymeric understood how often he would seek the other man out through their growing friendship. Even if it had been just for a small casual conversation, an invitation to share their designated lunch times together, or quips during training--they had given him a little extra light in his day. Not that all the members of the Temple Knights were unkind--far from it. Aymeric has found that most are men and women who have aspirations of their own or simply want for a better life. But Estinien is different and Aymeric is always in want of his company.

To that, Aymeric laughs, his smile brightening a few degrees. "Am I in need of supervision?"

He understands that is not a reflection of his skill, but the ways that Estinien shows he cares that spur such jests. It harkens back to that night out in the Highlands the winter before when Aymeric had been nearly taken out by one of the horde. Yet less than Estinien sparing him that fate, it was the other man's admission that he had been tracking his movements for fear of his safety that Aymeric decided to make an even stronger push for companionship. It has certainly paid off and the remaining scars he carries are well-worth the cost.

Though this admission is one that causes Aymeric's smile to dim. He allows his gaze to fall to his knees for a moment, slowly letting that process. He would like to immediately refute the statement, but Estinien is not entirely wrong that Aymeric has been actively choosing to keep some things to himself. It may seem less so to Estinien with whom Aymeric is decidedly more open, but Aymeric himself is generally a private man in his personal affairs, both out of nature and necessity.

"'Twas not mine intent to shut you out, my friend," he finally says as he lifts his eyes back up to the vista before them. "A part of me did not want to add to your troubles of late with your Dragoon trials having been so close at hand, but in truth I have been selfish."

He exhales in a huff through his nose. Honesty is the best policy, here.

"Mayhaps I did not want to appear petty to someone whose opinion I hold in high regard. With an endless war at hand, there seems little place to rightfully complain about trivial tasks that I have been assigned, as well as I know their true purpose."

Estinien understands that he's a difficult person.

The social aura he gives off is not one bourne of ignorance, but instead, of lack of caring. For the longest time, he would refuse to let anyone impact his path, with rare exceptions made for the man that raised him through his teens. Any weight of social expectation was not something he needed and a waste of his energy, and so he was quick to let his peers know that their solicitations were not necessary or appreciated.

Yet, that changed somehow, in this one instance. Through sheer persistence on Aymeric's part, generally speaking - which means that everything has been just a bit slanted from day one. Aymeric had been the one reaching out, the one making accommodations, the one careful to appeal to Estinien's sensibilities. Estinien is not a particularly observant person when it comes to social cues, but even he could notice. As much as he could believe that Aymeric did desire their friendship, he was so often the one putting the effort in. All Estinien had to do was show up and absorb what the other put forth, and he can't help but feel that it's wrong.

If Estinien ever intuitively knew how to be a supportive friend, he's long since lost the knowledge. Every little step with Aymeric feels like a new lesson and one that he is unlikely to repeat with others. If it doesn't come naturally to him, he reasons, he has to think - he has to push beyond what feels easiest every so often, or what use is he?

So as much that he worries that he's missing something that's right in front of him, deep down, Estinien doesn't want to be the one just effortlessly lapping up the emotional labour of his friend. He wants to do something right for him, even if he isn't sure what that is. He lifts his hand like he's thinking about doing something with it, and then sets it down on the stone again.

"...Then you can allow me to complain on your behalf," he says. "I have no shortage of complaints, and for pettier things than you could muster." That part is at least a little bit wry, but then his expression falls to something more serious and reflective. "I can see that you do considerable work to set me at ease, my friend." His voice is soft. "I do not desire to only passively accept your efforts, pulled along as a gormless passenger."

A silence falls between them and Aymeric too is left with his thoughts. It is a shameful admission, though one he makes because Estinien can at least be afforded the honesty, had his actions caused a slight. Even so, he does not believe the other man will judge him unjustly, ever firm and unbiased in his ascertains. (Most, at least.) Aymeric knows that is his own desire to save face that pushes those feelings, not Estinien.

The movement catches his eye and Aymeric does turn to look at his friend then, only to find that same hand fall and an extended quiet. He is about to apologize when Estinien speaks and Aymeric is glad that he stalled, if only for a second. The response is just so Estinien it is enough to twitch his lips upwards in semblance of a smile just for a moment. Yet it is what Estinien finishes with that causes Aymeric to raise his brows, mouth hanging ajar for another few beats.

It seems he has been blessed with a few instances of his friend laying bare intentions and small insecurities he usually does not. Despite the nature of their conversation, Aymeric feels his chest warm again. It's another reassurance that he does not necessarily need, but so appreciates--

Estinien wants to be his friend. And a good one at that.

So Aymeric shakes his head, good nature returning as does his smile. "As I have said once before...you do not fully appreciate the pleasure that is your company." Harkening once again back to that night out in the Highlands.

"I do realize that I tend to dictate the conversation at times..." He feels inclined to once again reassure Estinien that it is fine--but that is just proving the point, is it not? Aymeric stops himself mid-thought and has to let out a breathy laugh.

"...Very well. Then in your presence I shall allow myself to be as petty and irascible I may feel. I believe this may be invoking the 'no judgments' clause of our friendship."

Estinien also finds himself waiting to see the results of his words, and is relieved when Aymeric reacts positively. His own smile comes to his lips, subtle but very much present. He's not the sort to often speak of the mechanics of a relationship, so he's glad to have at least voiced his thoughts sensibly.

Aymeric guiding the conversation isn't necessarily a bad thing, given that Estinien himself is not particularly skilled at doing it himself, he would just rather he not guide it away from what troubles him. Estinien considers himself to be the one with the dark disposition - Aymeric has little to fear.

He relaxes for a moment, but then he remembers something he had been wanting to ask about before, only to be distracted by their conversations in the armory. His brow furrows as he considers it again.

"Then... knowing that you needn't censor yourself on my account..." he begins tentatively. "I had been meaning to ask..." He finally looks back towards Aymeric at this point. "Have you been bothered by the noble women's... 'attentions', as you put it? I had not heard of this Lady before tonight..."

In all honesty, he's already forgotten her name.

He is glad to have an understanding between them. Having Estinien's companionship and confidence is very important to him, after all, and he is always pleased to be receiving any amicable gestures, physically or verbally. And he is anticipating that if Estinien does wish to know more details about his current lot in the Knights, he will.

He does not expect for the subject to circle back to their initial meeting with Haurchefant. Aymeric blinks, visibly a little surprised, yet he did just agree to be more candid, did he not? Courtship gossip just seems far from the other man's area of interest.

"Where to begin..." Aymeric takes a moment to collect his thoughts. Though this is just between them, he still canning find it in himself to paint a poor picture of a woman whose intentions are likely as innocent as they can be. Aymeric just refuses to risk it.

"I had not thought such matters would be of interest to you, to be honest, yet Haurchefant was not incorrect in all of his embellished recounts. Lady Elsinne has been very persistent in seeking out my companionship since the first night we danced together, though I am truthfully boggled as to what I had done to garner that interest. She has been naught but proper in the way one may expect of a woman of her standing, insistent though she may be."

He pauses again, eyes falling to a spire somewhere in the distance.

"In some ways I am flattered. When I have been approached in the past, it has always been more in...private. Secrecy, mayhaps? Though that makes it sound much more nefarious. Yet she seems fit to pursue me in sight of others, seemingly with no regard to what they may think, of which I am unaccustomed. This should speak true to the sincerity to her intentions, and yet...I still find myself questioning them."

He shakes his head, finishing to turn a little more to face Estinien properly.

"It may be a problem of mine own making. She is a lovely woman..."

There are plenty of circumstances in which Estinien would find this sort of business completely unengaging, but for some reason, it has stuck in his head. First, when he thought it might be mutual, something had turned in his gut - and now that it seems like a source of stress, he's engaged in a different way.

Part of him is relieved that Aymeric doesn't seem interested, while at the same time he wonders if the 'right' thing to do would be to encourage him forward, though maybe less boisterously than Haurchefant had. If his concern is that her feelings must be ingenuine because of his status... would it not be kind to tell him to believe in his own charms, as Aymeric has so often reminded Estinien to do? To pursue the possibility of love?

He's not sure what to say. Aymeric could hardly be confused for anything other than handsome, a conclusion that Estinien can draw with only a small amount of embarrassment given how blindingly obvious it seems. He's charming, courteous, earnest, and hard-working... it had baffled Estinien before that even his blood status could be a barrier to this effect, and it still does now.

It's probably clear on Estinien's face that he's struggling a little, interacting with this sort of topic in a manner that is at all graceful. He only hopes that Aymeric will bear with him, rather than seeking the change the topic again, determining that it's beyond Estinien's means.

"Then your worry is that her feelings are ingenuine?" he asks. He recalls other things Aymeric has told him on similar subjects. "That she would have something to gain from her flirtations?"

He's only asking questions at this point because he wants to hear what Aymeric is thinking rather than filling in the blanks himself.

It is not something he speaks of freely or often, spending too much time inside his own mind grinding through the possibilities until he assuredly dissuades himself from anything. Haurchefant's involvement, while well-meaning, only goes so far as what he has himself witnessed rather than Aymeric coming to him in confidence. That Estinien want to hear Aymeric out despite this being far out of the realm of his own interest does make him glad.

He nods plainly. "You have the right of it. It may be a poor reflection of past experiences that I am casting on Lady Elsinne, and if that be the case she most certainly deserves for her attentions to be returned elsewhere."

Aymeric pauses, gaze dropping down an ilm or so, brows pushing together as he too is struggling with something. Though he is someone who believes honesty should come first, being honest with some of the subjects is a first for him. Matters that he keeps to himself, especially out of earshot of his parents. They had done him a kindness in taking him into their home, he ought not sully the family name in the process. No more than he all ready has.

"...Said experiences are few in number, I must admit. Yet I was not immune to the swell of urges that come with blossoming adulthood. Though the aristocracy likes to claim purity on such affairs, it is very common to explore such inclinations and act as if one had not until marriage."

He shakes his head, not so much in disapproval of such explorations, but in the hypocrisy that comes with it.

"Though events never did fully..." Aymeric struggles for a moment, feeling a little boyish all of a sudden to be so candid about his sex life. "...escalate to the expected conclusion..." Or the lack-thereof. "I became acutely aware that it was less than genuine interest for which my company was sought. After all, would it not be something of an amusing little secret than to have bed the Archbishop's bastard son?"

He forces his gaze back up to Estinien and shakes his head again.

"I may have been disingenuous when I originally stated that I was unfit for courtship. By all accounts I am to inherit the Borel estate and the title adjoined, which under most circumstances would play a fair part in my own eligibility for dating and marriage. To men our age this would be a standard affair, as the lower Houses are always doing their best to align themselves with those at the top. Nourorault, while not one of the High Houses, has close connections to one, and therefore would be a clear step up for House Borel. Yet I do not have the desire to move forward with even the potentiality of such an arrangement. Henceforth I have done my utmost to speak naught of it, lest my mother be given a false impression of my intentions."

Edited 2020-10-31 01:47 (UTC)

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