thefeywood | why don't you figure my heart out?

Aymeric has been looking forward to this for some time. He does make it a point to reach out to Estinien on a regular basis, but their growing responsibilities do not always align their schedules. Of late it seems that when Estinien is off with the Knights Dragoon being called onto a dragon sighting, Aymeric is in the city with only menial tasks and basic training of his fledging squadron. Yet when Aymeric is deployed, Estinien returns. Frustrating, but not all that surprising. They are confronting the same war on somewhat different fronts.

Being new to his position, the areas in the Western Highlands that Aymeric has been assigned are not of great concern or import, so after running several missions himself, he feels confident that his small group of four knights are more than capable of handling most excursions on their own. Ser Saidine Glourie, a swordswoman a few years his senior, has become something of an impromptu second-in-command and he feels comfortable with her reports. Being one of the youngest captains in the Temple Knights--not just currently, but also in the history of the order--Aymeric knows he has even more to prove than before, but he takes this promotion and opportunity seriously, pouring every onze of his efforts into it.

Efforts that are not otherwise spent on his friends and a little bit of socializing, of course. When he has Saidine on the rotation for a sweep of the cliffs with two other members of the squadron, Aymeric stays in the city to attend to a few meetings with other captains who look over the same general region to coordinate a joint drill training lest multiple forces need to come together during an invasion rather than deploying each independently. (His suggestion, but he does not remind anyone of it.) Once he finds out that Estinien is also back in town, he immediately reaches out for a moment of his time.

That is what leads him to his current state--that state being clinging to Estinien's back the dragoon propels them up into the skies above the city. Aymeric cannot help but grin every time they do this, each trip as freeing as the last. Though they often discuss work on the rooftops, it somehow still feels apart of the rest of Ishgard's troubles. Like their own world in the clouds. His favorite place to be.

When they come to land at the ledge of a tower, Aymeric let's out a breathless laugh.

"You never cease to amaze me, my friend!"

There are plenty of towers to perch on in Ishgard, even when it's the wrong time of day to climb the Vault itself. Finding new places to watch from is one of the few things that Estinien does that could be considered a leisure activity, at least when he's not with Aymeric. In the event that the dragoons have withdrawn and Aymeric is deployed, his days inevitably fall into an endless cycle of training with little respite.

Given the recent state of things, however, Estinien finds himself more motivated than usual to leave the Congregation. This time the current Azure Dragoon decided to return with them.

Estinien might have hoped that the Azure Dragoon would be a soldier that he could respect to the degree he did Alberic, but in the end, that has been a level of animosity present that surprised even his cynical soul. Ser Draneux de Durendaire was overly involved in the activities of his High House, in Estinien's opinion, with every mission under his orders coming across as something meant to glorify his family name more than to fully utilize the mantle he'd been bestowed.

These observations were, ultimately, only that - Estinien had little power to contest the Azure Dragoon, and all conventional wisdom suggested that he should not. Yet, it burned beneath his scalp each time he saw what he perceived as a failure of efficiency for the sake of glory.

It wouldn't be the first time that Estinien criticized the Azure Dragoon in front of Aymeric, but he's also determined not to so immediately interrupt their reunion. Especially when Aymeric is being so, for lack of a better word, 'cute'.

"I see the novelty has not yet worn off," he says, letting Aymeric down a safe distance from the edge. He's personally forgone the armor for once, his air blowing in the wind in a way that has become increasingly unfamiliar.

Though they have taken to the rooftops several times by now, Aymeric always feels a little dizzy when he finds his footing again. It's that head rush that comes with ascending so quickly, he believes, and he cannot imagine how long it must have taken Estinien to become used to it. It's a happy feeling, though, and he's grinning ear to ear when he steadies himself, placing a hand on the satchel at his hip.

"Nay, and I do not believe that will change in the near future." He does acknowledge, however, that there is a part of that rush that comes from the fact that he is being whisked up to the skies by his dear friend. Aymeric is fairly certain that the thrill would be lessened just a bit were it anyone else.

He turns that smile out towards the city, still light in the late afternoon sun. "Nor will I ever tire of this view. As always, thank you for indulging me."

Aymeric looks down at the edge, carefully settling himself to sit down on it. He reaches then to the satchel and unfastens the buckle, loosening the flap.

"Now if you will allow me to indulge you..."

There are several bundles wrapped in cloth that he produces, but the unmistakable scent of yeast and sugar indicates enough of the baked good he decided to bring along.

Estinien turns to face him, tilting his head at Aymeric producing several bundles of what is probably pastries or something of the sort. Of course, he would. He sakes his head a little and then sits down beside him with a small smile on his face.

"You think of everything, don't you," he says, glancing sideways at his friend before looking back down to the city. "It heartens me that the powers that be are finally acknowledging as much."

He was very relieved to see Aymeric get his promotion, having long since worried that the commanders that had harried him would have their way. That he would somehow be resigned to unimportant busy work due to his heritage. Thankfully, that is gradually becoming less of a concern.

After all, Estinien would prefer not to make this upward ascent alone.

Aymeric clicks his tongue as he unwraps one of the bundles. There are two buns with a sweet, but not overly sweet crumble on the top. While Estinien is far from picky with his food choices, he has likely learned in the last few years that Aymeric has something of a sweet tooth. He holds one out to his friend.

"It is important to find time for an afternoon snack."

He considered bringing up tea as well, but thought worrying about spilling while yalms above the city might be better saved for another time.

Estinien's appraisal of his own professional situation does not go without notice. His smile simmers a little in magnitude, but is no less pleased than it was before.

"When our schedules allow, I would like for you to meet my squadron." He breaks off a piece of his own bun, pops it in his mouth, and makes sure to chew and swallow before continuing. "Our numbers have increased to an impressive five, including myself, with the addition of a new lancer. Are you familiar with Ser Theodlac Todd?"

"Mmn..."

As Aymeric is well aware, Estinien has never been the best at picking up other people's names unless they make themselves an extremely unforgettable presence. He knows all of the dragoons at this point, but in the Temple Knights he was particularly dismissive.

He considers for a few moments, imagining that he would probably do better at picking out his face than knowing his name. Or possibly by the look of his lance.

"I've likely seen his face," he eventually says, unable to supply any more specifics. He's willing to help where necessary, but he's far from the mentorly type, even with other lancers.

Unsurprised, Aymeric's smile brightens again, this time with light amusement. No, Estinien has never made it a point to remember a name unless it truly mattered to him, specifically. Which was part of the reason Aymeric had been so determined to get Estinien to remember his own.

"Though you would doubtlessly be a more adept judge, he has skill and is eager to learn. He too has sights on the Knights Dragoon someday and was very excited when he was assigned to my squadron, though not of any of my own merit."

He sends a sidelong glance to Estinien before pointedly breaking off another piece of his bun.

"He was very interested that I, apparently, have the reputation of being in the company of a Dragoon in my free time. How curious."

Estinien lifts his eyebrows. No, he does not like the sounds of that.

He'd never truly imagined the stage in his life where someone might see him and see a networking opportunity. That someone might look at Aymeric and think that he'd be a way to get to Estinien Wyrmblood for favours. Or whatever the man's true intent was.

He couldn't fault them for fostering hopes to become a dragoon - Estinien own life had depended on that accomplishment. Yet, something about them pursuing him for that purpose offended him, even though... well, hadn't it been the same with Alberic? Not that Estinien could have helped being adopted by the man. Yet, would he be where he is now without the early training his guardian had offered?

Aymeric may notice Estinien's expression go through several transitions as he contemplates the ramifications of having sway in the military. In the end, it is apparently so burdensome that his face begins to flush.

"Well, I'm not inviting him to our picnics, that's for bloody sure." He stuffs the bun into his mouth.

Estinien's reaction to that is also unsurprising and Aymeric does not bother even trying to stifle his laugh. He has never had interest in training hopefuls, let alone socializing or breaking bread with them if he could avoid it.

"Rest well, my friend, he will not be invited." He is not ashamed to say that he values these adventures a private affair and would share them with no other. This is his Estinien time, which has been less and less easy to procure. He would not spend it entertaining an energetic young knight if he too could avoid it, despite the fact that Aymeric is very accommodating in most circumstances. Here, up on the rooftops, he allows himself to be selfish.

"He has nary mentioned your name, so I imagine he has only heard rumors that I have been in the company of a dragoon. Mayhaps you have it right to be in full armor as often as possible."

Granted, in private he is gifted with Estinien's trust enough to remove his helmet even when in armor, of which Aymeric is noticeably pleased by. The little things that he starts to realize Estinien does only in his company are becoming readily more apparent, and each warms his heart and deepens his trust in the other man, determined to be worthy of it.

That does not mean Estinien is safe form his chiding, though.

"He had only been knighted the moon prior. It seems my squadron is meant to be assembled of some of the newest recruits into the Temple Knights. I do want to see it as a new opportunity..."

Though the way his voice trails off says that he does wonder if there is another motive in that. Do they not believe he has enough experience to command knights with a greater history? He supposes he cannot blame them, given his own age and experience is a decade or more below the average in his station.

"Nevertheless, your anonymity remains intact for now."

"Hmm."

Estinien contemplates the meaning of that decision as well. To him it would seem like more of a challenge to manage a squadron of new recruits than more veteran soldiers. There was a reason that retired knights and dragoons often became teachers once their glory days were past, as opposed to up and coming commanders.

It could either mean a particular trust in his abilities, or it could be yet another passive-aggressive way of making things difficult for him. This subject has easily stolen his attention away from the ordeal that is being known.

"...Mayhap that will be for the best," he says. "Younger knights will have fewer biases and ideally less pride to contend with." He narrows his eyes. "What do you have you doing?"

Aymeric nods as he chews, not at all in disagreement of the assumption, though he does have to note when he is able to speak again,

"Ser Saidine has plenty opinions to make up for the rest of the team," though it is something he says with no small amount of fondness. "But she joined the Temple Knights not out of necessity, as with so many who are not of the higher Houses, but her own desire to serve the city to some degree. She will be instrumental in our success."

The greater success, he means, since his answer to Estinien's question will likely give a clearer picture on just how minor the tasks he has assigned to his squadron are.

"We have been assigned patrol in the Western Highlands, between the Warrens and Hemlock. Not an area terribly wrought with Dravanian activity, mind you. But the Black Iron Bridge is not far."

"Hmm," is all he says at first, mostly because he has food in his mouth. He is more than familiar with the area, at this point in his career. The Knights Dragoon can be directed to nearly anywhere in Coerthas at a moment's notice, and he's spent more than enough time lurking the area during local missions.

"Sounds like a fine place to gain experience, at any rate," he says. Given that one of their earliest and most formative Temple Knight experience was having their entire unit slain around them, he would not wish the same on other recruits could it be avoided.

"Ser Saidine must be a knight after your own heart, then." He smiles slightly at the thought.

He nods again in agreement. As eager as Aymeric is to prove himself to his squadron, his peers, and the powers that be, he does understand that patience will pay off in the end. It is a trait he has had to learn well against his baser instincts to trudge forward. Many would be surprised to know how often he holds himself back.

"It is, though it does not mean that we can take the assignment likely regardless. Ere the week's end, the Lord Commander may hear of a joint emergency drill proposal." His proposal, making Aymeric a little anxious to have it appraised.

He gives a pleased huff and rips the rest of the bun squarely in two, forgoing his polite picking.

"I am glad of her presence and the authority she naturally wields. If this squadron grows as I hope, she would be my first pick for Lieutenant."

To make such plans all ready does give him hope for what they will yet accomplish in the years to come.

"But there is naught to tell that is worth sharing yet. Tell me of your travels, Estinien."

Estinien falls silent for a few moment as he finishes chewing the rest of his food, obviously considering what he's going to talk about. It's nothing particularly weighty, he just has to consider what's worth going on about.

"The Azure Dragoon has returned to Ishgard for the time being," he says. "He had summoned us to scour the borders of the Dusk Vigil, speaking of imminent horde activity, but none in particular arose."

He speaks with no fondness. Aymeric will already be well aware that he doesn't hold much esteem for a man, despite him holding the office that Estinien would one day claim for himself. It isn't a sense of competition to much as a clear disapproval of how he wields the power.

All it has done is to prove to him with even more clarity that it is a task he must take for his own, if he is to ever find the satisfaction he craves.

"I would almost say he was wasting our time, but I'm sure that would be considered insubordinance."

Aymeric listens, though the first part he had known, as the comings and goings of the Azure Dragoon are of paramount import to the Temple Knights and their planned defense, as well as the politics of Ishgard as a whole. When in the city, the peoples seem to feel more at peace and protected, as if the weight of the war with the Dravanians lay squarely on his shoulders.

Shoulders that Aymeric also knows have yet to earn Estinien's respect and trust. He can sympathize with having a superior officer that he does not get along with nor particularly believes is worthy of the position, though Aymeric is decidedly more skilled at keeping that to himself.

But here is a safe space to air their grievances. Aymeric finishes off one half of his bun as he listens.

"The Dusk Vigil?" A pause, Aymeric frowns lightly. "...That strikes odd. Did House Durendaire call for aid?"

"Not officially," Estinien drawls. Yet, it seems entirely likely that it was the Azure Dragoon, one Ser Draneux de Durendaire, playing favourites with his house of origin. He wouldn't mind nearly as much if he didn't keep getting pulled into it.

"Yet, I oft feel that the Azure Dragoon sees the rest of us as Durendaire's personal army, rather than all of Ishgard's." Estinien scowls down at his knees, having already eaten the entire bun before Aymeric could finish half.

"It seems unlikely, how often we are pulled to their territories specifically." It irritates him on a very primal level. Whenever Alberic had spoken of his duties, it was on behave of all of Coerthas. As a Hyur with no ties to the high houses, he had always made the more utilitarian choices in his defense of the city.

Ser Draneux de Durendaire clearly wages war against the dragons with only one pillar of the city in mind.

"Hm..." Yes, odd indeed. Aymeric chews thoughtfully on the remaining side of his bun while he rummages back into his satchel with his free hand. He pulls out a small package of cookies, shortbread with some sort of fruity hardened syrup in the middle.

"'Twould be unbecoming of the Azure Dragoon, but he would not be the first to come from House Durendaire."

He shakes his head. "Mayhaps he is privy to intelligence we are not."

Estinien glances over at Aymeric, momentarily frustrated by him trying to make excuses for the Azure Dragoon's behaviour. Though there are more reasons for Estinien to dislike Ser Draneux beyond his choices in missions, it is the favoritism on display that embitters him on a personal level. Such behaviour could very well get people killed.

Maybe Ser Draneux sensed that ire in Estinien, because it is clear that he is not favoured by the man. An ill omen for someone wishing to take his place - surely it would be an easier path if he could receive some manner of recommendation. Yet, at times Estinien has felt specifically targetted, as if Ser Draneux was hoping for his failure.

It had yet to materialize into anything, with Estinien surviving whatever challenges were put forth. Yet, suspicions linger heavily in his mind, even while he keeps his more personal complaints to himself. He'll complain about irrational commands, but he's been leaning away from discussion of his own perceived bullying.

"Mn," is all Estinien says, after a lengthy pause. He stares downward at the city, his bristling not difficult to notice.

Estinien's silence speaks volumes, as they often do with him. Aymeric allows it to settle between them for a moment, a little more intense than usual. It's a thinking silence, though Aymeric knows that it is not exactly directing discontent towards him.

"You think it unlikely," Aymeric finally supplies, opting to take a cookie for himself even if Estinien abstains for the moment.

Estinien's brow furrowing, the silence lingering for a bit longer as if he isn't sure he should get into it. His gaze continues to linger downward, at it feels like he is holding himself at a particular distance.

"The Azure Dragoon should serve Ishgard, not his house," he rumbles. "It is not a duty to be pursued for the sake of glory or greed."

Of course, to Aymeric it may be unclear how much of this is Estinien's own natural mistrust for others. He tends towards disliking people, after all, and chafes against authority. It would seem natural for him to struggle with this.

Aymeric exhales through his nose. "We are in agreement." Lest Estinien believe otherwise, but he does not believe so. He tilts his head to the side, regarding the other man for another quiet moment.

"This another line in a growing list of complaints against this man, is it not?" His personal complaints, that is. "Should his alliances not lie with Ishgard...surely the other Houses would take notice, if not the Vault."

...Right?

Estinien offers another wordless grunt of uncertainty, his fingers gripping at the edge of the rooftop they sit on. His thoughts are wandering elsewhere, thinking of the Azure Dragoon, and what that means to him and the rest of their nation. The intensity of his investment tugs at his heart.

"The Holy See does what benefits the balance of power in Ishgard," he says. "After all, the High Houses are the chosen lineage, are they not? Blessed by Halone without ever having to do a thing."

In any sensible world, there should be checks and balances to this sort of thing, but Estinien has never had much faith in that.

The chosen lineage...for understandable and unsurprising reasons, the idea of relying solely on the bonds of blood to deign who has the right to rule, who is the most deserving.

"That is what they say." A non-answer.

Aymeric quietly chews a second cookie, but stops there for the time being.

"Yet the duty of the governing is, in the end, to serve the best interests of the governed." A pause. "If only it truly worked that way..."

He shakes his head, knowing it does little to just entertain those thoughts. Only concentrated action will allow change.

Estinien hums again in agreement, falling silent for another period of contemplation. He was never particularly enthusiastic about the people in power, and even less so after growing close to Aymeric. From the combination of allowing the High Houses to run wild, and from the Archbishop's potential indifference causing so much trouble for his friend... there is not much to love about then. Even beyond what they inflict on everyone else.

He can't claim to have the spirit for politics, nor is he much of an activist. Yet, he believes in Aymeric's choice to pursue these things, and it frustrates him to watch as the gears of the city continue to turn unchecked.

With him as a lowblood and Aymeric as something even more complicated than that, neither of them have much claim to sovereignty. It is critical that it not be allowed to stand in their way.

"All the more reason to take the eye off his hands," Estinien finally says, with a bit more levity. That's something to look forward to, at least.

To be disappointed in the Azure Dragoon's alliances is something that he believes most could empathize with, yet Aymeric knows that seeing someone undeserving in the position that Estinien himself wants to hold some day--and with a greater sense of honor to the cause, if not for vengeance--is easily troubling at its best. Progress is slow in the grand scheme of things, yet the two of them are making quick strides to their personal goals comparably to their peers, and that alone has garnered them a bit of attention.

Not all of it positive, mind you. Rumors of Aymeric's own rise to young Captaincy were unsurprisingly plagued with the same blood-related favoritism that is dually supposed to be his downfall, while Estinien's prowess but combative attitude has earned him some ire. Still, forward they move. That he has someone to go on this journey with offers no small sense of comfort. Someone to share in these accomplishments.

Aymeric shakes the bag of cookies, quietly reminding Estinien of the offering should he need it.

"A task yet to be completed, but you will undoubtably accomplish." He may have a habit of talking Estinien up, but it is not because he is simply fond, he believes in his friend's abilities and his raw determination, almost to a fault. "In some was we aught to be glad that our current grievances are trivial in nature. It has been some time since we suffered a true assault from the horde."

THE PLOT THICKENS

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