revolutionne | [IC] Inbox @ slumscape

When Estinien catches Aymeric's gaze again, he will find a frown. Not the sort of a man upset, but one who is disappointed. Is this really what he believes?

"Estinien..." A tone that he is likely familiar with--the beginnings of something long-winded. Aymeric sets his spoon aside to turn to fully face his friend.

"Who that dwells past the Gates of Judgment is without sin?" Neither of them are pious men to believe that perfection is at all attainable. The only real innocents are perhaps the children, yet even so, to hold them up to such a high standard would truly be an injustice.

"You who has fought endlessly against the tyrannies both within and without, who gave up all and put himself on the front lines with nary a complaint--" Complaints about the position, that is. "--you bled for Ishgard. You nearly died for her. Has that not earned a place within her? Would you ask the same of others who were willing to sacrifice aught all?"

He knows the answer to that.

"Nidhogg's sins are not your own. Please do not make the mistake of claiming them."

Estinien recoils slightly at those words, withdrawing inward, but primarily out of shame - largely because he finds that he has no good explanation for his friend. He feels the way he said, even if he can find no logical argument against Aymeric's observations. The last part, when he mentions Nidhogg, is particularly difficult to keep from turning his stomach.

Had he not told him how alike the two of them were? How when Nidhogg possessed him, it was like seeing a mirror image of himself? He may not have done the same things, may not have fought for so long or with the understanding Nidhogg did, or hurt so many, but yet...

But yet what? But yet he feels a kinship with the dragon, even as he fought through those final moments to see him finished. And now to be matched with another beast of the same heart...

He can feel the oni whispering to him again, as hard as he tries to push it down. Is it wrong? Has he been wrong? Or does Aymeric just not know him as well as he thinks he does? The voice within him urges that it's the latter.

"We were one and the same."

His voice is pained as he says it, as if he barely knows how speak the words - like he doesn't know what he's talking about, either. From the helpless look that he gives Aymeric, it seems unlikely that he expects Aymeric to be sold on this interpretation. It's just the only one he has.

Estinien's silence speaks as much as any words may the longer it stretches on. He does not outright refute what Aymeric has said, but he might as well--he is clearly not in agreement. The former Azure Dragoon had once expressed empathy toward the late dragon, for his plight and his anger and his pain. But empathy does not equate an ownership of Nidhogg's actions.

How deep does this run?

"Only in body and only for a time." He shakes his head and takes a step forward.

"And in that time those actions were not your own. Ishgard does not shun you, Estinien. Do not tell me that you have chosen solitude based on this belief alone?"

It's hard for him to bear Aymeric's searching case, the negative feedback from the spirit within him not particularly helping. It's like having two conversations at once - one with Aymeric trying to draw him in, and the other with the oni trying to affirm his fears and drag him down deeper.

Finally, he shakes his head. It's not the only thing, of course - just one of the ideas that had inspired his journey away from home. He truly didn't stay long enough to see how shunned or not he was. Maybe it was easier not to know.

"Whatever good I did, my legacy is not one to be proud of," he says, more subdued. "I was given a second chance that many were not. That Nidhogg himself was not. I am only trying... to be worthy."

His gaze flickers away and then back again. He tries to think of the words to explain.

"...I spoke to Hraesvelgr, after I left. He seemed to think there was use for me still... it is him that bestowed upon me my new armor. Enchanted by Ratatoskr herself." The uneasiness is plain on his face. "To defend our star, he said! Thanks to the hope Ysayle had given him... After all I had done..."

There is a pained incredulity in his voice. With the faces of the dead fresh in his mind, he can see it no other way.

"There is no justice, no reason, in me being afforded life when so many others were not."

Guilt--is that part of it? Guilt that those they lost could not be returned, that he had somehow survived it all despite what he sees are many faults. It goes beyond Nidhogg, then--Estinien just does not think he is worth the effort.

"...Neither of us are believers of fate," he begins, moving the pan off of the stove top so that the fish does not burn and he can return to sit next to his friend properly. Food can wait.

"We are men of action, and it is by your actions that you made it through 'til the end. Yes, those that we lost...that we could not save will forever sit with us. We can only endeavour that spare others of the same end. But this does not mean that you are undeserving of these opportunities. Would that you can see in yourself what myself and others do..."

Aymeric shakes his head and places his hand on Estinien's forearm.

"How many times have we narrowly escaped death or punishment? I have penned my name and condolences on hundreds of letters to families of knights lost. Each and every one of them feels another weight in my heart, but I cannot bring them back, nor can I allow that loss to deter my course from what is best for Ishgard--for those that are here. For those that were saved by the brave deeds of others. Your brave deeds."

He gives that arm a squeeze, offering a somewhat sad, if hopeful smile. He might as well be honest...

"There is more than use for you, Estinien. Were you so inclined...I would like nothing more than to have you help us build the Ishgard that we had once dreamed of. You are part of her past, you deserve to be part of her brighter future."

Estinien stares ahead as Aymeric comes to sit with him, trying to manage his reactions. On some level he knows what Aymeric is saying is true - that it's not standard that was reasonable to hold for himself, that the loss of one life did not render another undeserving. It's the sort of information that may reach his brain, but it never seems to reach his gut, or his heart.

At least he's said it, though - at least he can know that Aymeric hasn't, against all reason, confirmed his doubts as truth like he sometimes imagined he would, were he ever to speak it out loud. It's still very hard to think of anything he's done as 'brave' or useful, but...

But, as Aymeric says, there is more than being useful. There should be more.

He looks up, almost like that information is a surprise to him. Realistically he should already know all of this - he shouldn't have to be told. He should need help remembering these things, he shouldn't have to be convinced that he can just be a person, the same as anyone else. Yet, even as he's being told, his heart construes a way that his circumstances are his own fault.

"To have spent so much time away... and to allow myself to hear these words, only when the choice has been taken away from me..."

He's felt the guilty pang of wanting to return home, but only once it was too late. He shivers beneath Aymeric's hand.

He feels that shiver and feels a similar pang in his own heart--one of wanting to smooth away all the edges that still cut at Estinien's self-image, of what he believes he is worthy of. Aymeric has accepted long ago that it may take a lifetime of reassurances, but it is one he is willing to give for his dearest friend.

Aymeric slides his hand up to take Estinien's properly, lacing their fingers together as he brings his opposite hand to rest on the back of Estinien's knuckles, cupping his hand securely between his own.

"Do not tell me you have yet abandoned all intent to be rid of this place? 'Tis highly unlike you to turn tail in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds," he chides.

His fatalistic state of mind has been the inevitable result of him beginning to perceive this place as some form of punishment rather than a situation that can be practically solved. Somewhat absurd when considered rationally, but in his moments of deepest despair, it made a lot of sense to him. That this was something he deserved. That it was more metaphysical than real.

Yet, with Aymeric here, it feels less that way. Though he'd feared that Aymeric was yet another trick, the last few days and this entire conversation have made it all too clear that isn't the case. It gives him something to focus on that isn't just his own fate - even if his fate really is something he should start considering important.

He leans against Aymeric's side as their hands entwine, laying his own free hand above his friend's. Ever since they reunited, he's craved Aymeric's touch in equal measure to how much he feared trying to claim it. Despite that, every signal Aymeric has given him is one of intimacy and openness, to the degree it's difficult for even his stubborn sensibilities to turn it down.

The thought easily rises again: that he will try to escape, knowing that Aymeric's future is on the line as well. Yet, no. That's not what Aymeric has been telling him. His concern for Aymeric's wellbeing is not what is in doubt.

"I almost let myself forget," he says softly. "The things I have missed." He leans his head against Aymeric's. "Rest assured, I have been reminded."

Edited 2021-01-19 21:22 (UTC)

The returned gesture widens his smile just a bit and it is only too easy to let the weight of his own head rest back against the other man's, a simple reassurance of his presence and his support. It is the least he can do, but he likes to believe it means something.

Estinien's words only further the feeling and the tips of his ears might turn a little pink at the implications.

"I would hope they stick this time, but experience suggests you may yet need a few more reminders," he says with a light tone. "You may rest assured that I am up for the challenge."

Estinien snorts in acknowledgment, his need for repetition truly being the oldest joke between them. He otherwise holds their position silently for a while, wondering if he should attempt to go further. Aymeric did have half-prepared food waiting for him, but that's a reminder Estinien doesn't feel inclined to give in return. At least not yet.

Oddly enough, for once the spirit within him is quiet.

When he finally turns his head, it's to meet Aymeric's gaze directly - and as he does, it shows that his own eyes have shifted back to their regular stormy grey. Carefully, he lifts his hand to touch against Aymeric's cheek instead, brushing the dark hair at the side of his face.

What can he do but smile? The return of those eyes he knows so well. Though he's seen them wrought with rage and anguish before, they had only looked so feral in that time that Nidhogg had taken over--of which Estinien hardly needs to discuss, so Aymeric will not. He is fighting another battle now and Aymeric will do his utmost to support throughout it.

He leans into the touch just so without really thinking on it, indulging in that swell of happiness that comes with it. How long has it been since they were able to simply sit and be? Their lives oft to busy for moments of companionable quiet.

"When we do return--" When. "--I believe we are long overdue for a sojourn of Vault."

He did so enjoy their privacy space above the world.

Estinien remembers he still has claws partway through his gesture, and it becomes more ginger as he carefully tries not to touch them against Aymeric's skin. Though part of him reacts to the sight with the urge to withdraw in shame, he pushed through and does no such thing. Instead, he tries to focus on the man before him. He hums thoughtfully.

"Mayhap somewhat diminished by the lack of punishment if caught," he says wryly. That was never really the point, of course, but it was fairly amusing using the Vault of a roost when it was considered sacred ground. It would still be so for some, presumably, but they were unlikely to try arresting the Lord Speaker over it.

Flaunting his disrespect for the Holy See's rulings is no longer needed, he supposes.

For what it's worth, Aymeric doesn't mind nor seem to mind the claws one bit. They're part of Estinien, temporarily so, but that still means they're something is unafraid of. He gives the hand that he is still holding a tight squeeze as he chuckles.

"Has it lost it's appeal, my friend? Was it only the threat of discovery and love of sin that drove us to the tallest spires?""

"As I recall, the first time twas to avoid a party," he says with a quiet exhale of a laugh. "Or mayhap for want or more specific companionship."

With a stroke of his thumb across Aymeric's cheek, he slowly lowers his hand. Some part of him wants to do more, but cannot quite commit.

"Most compelling was your enraptured gaze. Upon seeing your excitement, there was little I could do to deny you."

Aymeric gives a huff of his own and shakes his head, looking a combination of fond and amused.

"Ah, so the blame lies solely with me, then?" There's a twinkle in his eye as he raises his brow, regarding his closest friend and companion. How good it feels to be trading light quips with him again. "Then carry it I shall. I do hope you aren't waiting for an apology as naught will be given."

He gives Estinien's hand one more squeeze before finally pulling away, moving back to the little kitchenette to continue the dish.

"At the very least while we are here, I do intend to learn as much about this place as possible."

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