to freely bloom--that is my definition of success.

[embankment]

[It's truly kind of ridiculous, but Aymeric still gets a bit of vertigo whenever he's up somewhere this high. It doesn't have to be real--even just staring down into a virtual abyss is enough to make him feel lightheaded. He squints, then sighs.

Meanwhile, Lady Commander Aymeric de Borel is as beautiful and unfazed as ever, seated neatly on the edge of the jutting spire. Her hair flutters in the simulated winds.]

I was hoping to be out of your hair by now, [he writes,] but I think I'm going to need a little more time after all. [Aymeric's head turns toward Estinien with a click.] Many apologies for that.

Comments

[subsidence]

[The difference couldn't be starker, and now Aymeric knows that. Estinien sits at the far end of her living room, tucked into a nook, with the soft, colorful glow of her PC out of place among the rustic things she uses for her quiet life out here. She sits cross-legged on a metal folding chair, hunched to half her height, with a toothpick in her mouth. But Estinien Wyrmblood, ≪The Azure Dragoon≫, stands poised and steady beside his Lady Commander. Her hair flutters; his is tucked up beneath his helm. He is sleek and powerful, and everything he needs is easily keyed into being.

Meanwhile, with her toothpick bobbing between her teeth, Estinien realizes how easy it would be to let Aymeric slip away and back to London.

She's never been great at writing what she ought to.]

no trouble having you
i can count the times i was eager to go to london on one hand
seems pretty reasonable if you like it here instead

[Then she realizes that she sounds sullen, which makes her face do something sullen, too. But not in the game. In the game, Estinien Wyrmblood is poised and steady...

Estinien sits beside Aymeric, then, and toggles her model so the helm disappears. Now their hair flutters in the wind together. She likes that; she wants that. The two of them, here in Wales, they could go out on a breezy day and their hair would flutter together--for real.]

[embankment]

[If you like it...

Aymeric frowns, and he was already frowning, he realizes, because now there's a twinge to his cheeks that wasn't there before. He looks up and over the top of his laptop screen, at Estinien's back, hunched, all painful-looking. As much as he wants to gently point it out, he decides not to do that just yet. He's still a guest in this house. Not an equal per se. Not a fixture. It would be unwelcome...]

Of course I like it here.

[Estinien's in-game avatar is a rare sight to see without the helmet on. Aymeric can't say he's ever seen Estinien toggle it off unless they're sitting here together, in this exact spot, in private, completely out-of-bounds. No one else is going to stumble across them unless they're willing to perform some pixel-perfect jumps. Aymeric isn't all that surprised that Estinien had the time and the patience to figure it out.

But that's not why they're here, and that's not what they're talking about. He's only letting himself get distracted. Stupid.]

I thought I would have an easier time of finding work out here. I thought if I could stay nearby then you wouldn't have to go all the way to London to see me again.

[Estinien's old sofa, dusty though it is, is so much more comfortable than the metal folding chair she's got herself perched on. Aymeric wants to tell her to straighten her back out already. She's going to hurt herself if she doesn't.]

But no such luck, I'm afraid.

[subsidence]

[An easier time of finding work, huh. Estinien see-saws the toothpick up and down between her teeth, then bites into it. Meanwhile, the grim face of the Azure Dragoon looks out toward the horizon. In-game, the weather changes and it begins to snow. Outside, it had done so just this morning.]

yeah it's simpler out here and sometimes that makes things complicated

eager to go back tow ork are we?

[embankment]

[Before coming out here, Aymeric thought he knew what snow was and all that it entailed. It was sad, ugly slush on the sidewalks and the sides of the roads that made his morning commutes really annoying at best. Maybe it could look pretty resting on rooftops, but most of the time it was a complete and utter nuisance. Then he came all the way out here and he got to see what it looks like when it's blanketing everything, sparkling and unbroken. It's a different experience. More peaceful, easier to appreciate. The sort of thing poets write about when they say it takes your breath away.

But the snow's chill is very much the same. He's grateful for the heavy quilt that Estinien insisted on draping around him earlier in the evening. Wouldn't take "no, I'm fine" for an answer. She is more stubborn than he is.]

Well,

[In-game, the Lady Commander is still looking at her Azure Dragoon. The snow hasn't changed that.]

You say it's no trouble but I haven't wanted to find out what it looks like when it is troublesome to you.

[A threshold, he imagines. A line he's in danger of crossing. Before: a guest, tolerated, maybe even enjoyed. Afterward, he'd be a leech and a layabout and yet another disappointment. Aymeric has seen something similar play out with the various members of their static.]

[subsidence]

[The difference couldn't be starker. The Azure Dragoon's grim face looks out toward the horizon--stoic, solemn, all that. Estinien, curled up on her seat, has swung her game's camera around to angle at the Lady Commander's face, and she has used the scroll wheel on her ergonomic mouse to pull that camera in close, looking at the pixellated eyelashes, the gaze upon her. ...Upon the Azure Dragoon.

After a pause, Aymeric will be able to hear the crunch of Estinien eating a handful of walnuts. She shelled and washed them just the other evening. Soon she'll put some in a batch of fudge.]

couldnt say i can imagine it myself

[embankment]

[Oh, those walnuts. Aymeric is going to have to clean out Estinien's keyboard again soon, what with her insistence on snacking over the keys. It's something else Aymeric wants to gently point out and even more gently correct, but he feels like he hasn't the right to say anything about it. Her keyboard, her posture, and her teeth, and her fingernails...

He worries for her constantly.]

I can imagine it.

[Then, an emote: /no. The Lady Commander's silky voice expresses a note of disapproval.]

After what you did to that Cyr Blyme fellow, I haven't wanted to get on your bad side.

That's the last thing I should want to happen.

[subsidence]

[Estinien crunches her molars down on another few walnuts, and then--and then her jaw goes still, just before it clenches as tightly as it can. Her brow does more than twitch: it furrows deeply. Worst of all, the blush flashes across her face in a prickle she cannot help. If Aymeric could see her cheeks, he would see them redden; he would see it happen to her neck, and to the top of her chest, past the collarbone of her flannel shirt.

But what Aymeric sees is the Azure Dragoon's calm face. None of the humiliation Estinien feels at what kind of person she is. Just...

/vexed.

Just that, when Estinien finally targets the Lady Commander so the Azure Dragoon's head turns.

There's a quiet beat. No typing or crunching from Estinien's end, and just the faint howl of Ishgardian wind.

Then:]

well there you go

wasn't so bad was it

[embankment]

[If Aymeric knew how Estinien was feeling just then, he would apologize. He'd say he's sorry for every flash of heat, every red speckle, every tightening muscle and joint. Obviously, obviously, he doesn't mean for her to feel badly about herself. She can be brusque, yes, and uncivil, and she can be cruel, too, very cruel indeed, but that doesn't mean he wants her to feel like a pile of cow shite. She's allowed to be precisely who she is. She's allowed to have high standards for the members of their static, and whatever else. He just worries for her constantly...

Besides, she can be kind and generous in abundance. She can be fond and welcoming and--dare he think of it?--friendly. She can be downright funny in her own unique way. Usually, Estinien's dry sense of humor would be met with a /laugh; not the rarest thing in the world for the Lady Commander, but often unused.

Now Aymeric himself is laughing instead. It's not very loud, but there isn't much of anything to obscure the lower, shyer, scratchier sound of it. He kind of covers up his mouth afterward, on instinct, before using that same hand to rub at his eyes. Maybe he's already getting a little bit tired.]

Wasn't that bad at all!

[But he still has to wonder if he's going to wake up someday and find his belongings strewn across the peaceful, unbroken snow.]

All this to say I'll be staying with you for the foreseeable future... if you will still have me.

[subsidence]

well you'll regret it if you miss the spring

[She writes this to him and then she thinks about the way he just described her and her bad side. She sounded scary then, and perhaps she sounds scary now.]

i think you would anyway, and not just the turn of the season but the maturation of it
it's idyllic or.....that sort of thing

[She remembers when she first sent Aymeric a message that was more than a terse mess. Aymeric didn't tell her she was surprisingly articulate, or laugh and ask her what had gotten into her. He took it in stride like it was a feasible part of her. Like it wasn't shocking that she might have things like that to say--and like he'd be glad to hear more.

His laughter doesn't feel like a slight. It's more like a treat, an indulgence, something she's offered from the hard work of honeybees. And he doesn't chastise her for being decisive, either.]

you should stay

[embankment]

[The Lady Commander is well-known for being a decisive force in battle. A competent tank, a capable raid leader--always making the best decisions possible for a given tide or turn. In reality, Aymeric has trouble deciding which shirt to wear or what he should eat for breakfast in the morning. He gets lost in the details; he spends too much time thinking about what they are and where they're going to take him. It's the reason why he did so well as the personal assistant to a rich tycoon, having a total control freak tell him what to do and where to be at any given moment. It's the reason why he felt so lost after finally quitting his job.

So it's just a relief to wake up and find some decisions already made for him: clothes laid out, breakfast being prepared, the time of day to begin with. They're going to visit the bees today, or check out the wildflowers, or simply stay inside and play video games as the snow gently falls outside. Estinien gets to decide all sorts of things for him, which is maybe a little weird, maybe it's a little uncouth... Aymeric is willing to trade epithets for the smallest peace of mind.]

I'll stay. [That's what he writes next, now that the decision has been made.

Then he hesitates.]

There is a favour I would ask of you, however.

[subsidence]

[Her metal chair creaks as she shifts upon it, from one bad posture to another, and she crunches on some walnuts again. There's an edge of satisfaction to the work of her jaw, evident even in the way she chews.]

aye, lady commander?

[The Azure Dragoon stands abruptly, but only to kneel before Aymeric. Cheeky.]

[embankment]

[Yes, it's cheeky. Aymeric shouldn't be surprised. The Lady Commander's head turns to watch the Azure Dragoon stand up, and to watch the Azure Dragoon kneel down. He remembers the first time Estinien went ahead and did this for him--the kneeling, not the cheekiness. The first time it happened, it had been surprising for its sincerity. She was awaiting her orders. A new area to search for rare spawns, or more consumables to procure. It couldn't have been further from the truth of this woman. Or maybe...

Getting distracted again. It dovetails nicely with his hesitation.]

It would please me greatly if you could sit up straighter from now on.

[He's worried for her, is all.]