Chapter Text
1.
It had been a few days since Estinien had returned to his regular duties, making up lies about how he had spent his time away while he was with Iceheart and her heretics. Unfortunately, his deception sparked the curiosity of both Aymeric and Lucia, who kept trying to interact with him, inquiring details about his time away and about any odd sightings, making him write a solid report which, in reality, turned out more like an alibi.
‘Twas difficult to not catch himself in his lies as any err could end with his head on a chopping block or his remains becoming feed for the hungry drakes in Witchdrop, thus not even his closest friend, the Lord Commander, could know of his relationship with Lady Iceheart. Alas, he had his duties now, the first in order being supervising the new dragoon recruits and judging them on their performance so as to separate the ones who pass their probationary period from those who will return to the ranks of Temple Knights. Finding himself bored as he watched the same tests done over and over again, Estinien’s mind wandered to his Ysayle, lamenting his duties when he would much rather be with her and thinking of how their chats were malms more enriching, and even though their opinions opposed each other, he more often than not enjoyed simply being in her company.
Furrowing his brow in irritation, ‘Why was he thinking of her now? Why was he thinking of her at all?’ he asked himself, awaiting no answer and pinching the bridge of his nose, earning the concern of one of his subordinates.
“Ser, are you alright? Is something bothering you?” A younger dragoon asked, seeing his superior’s upset.
“Aye. All is well.” He dismissed the lad, giving only a nod of reassurance as he crossed his arms, diverting his attention back to the recruits as their instructor, a dragoon ranked a few titles under Estinien, led them in pairs to spar with their comrades, separating the ones who won from the ones who lost and repeating the process until each one was arrangedin a descending line by prowess.
As he watched, a thought gnawed at the back of Estinien’s mind as he watched the young recruits, reminding him of his duty as a military leader - the Azure Dragoon no less - of the millenium-long war they were currently in, a war he was expected to be at the forefront of. Men and women separated from their homes and families, driven away from their birthplaces because of the Dravanian horde, which was supported by heretics and zealots - traitors to their own kin. How was he supposed to lead his people into victory when he himself found comfort in one of their greatest enemy’s sheets?
His gloved fists clenched tightly as the answer finally clicked in his mins, echoing in its halls until it deafened him: ‘ ‘Tis all a ruse,’ he told himself, ‘Seducing me so I would betray my homeland and leave the dragoon troops leaderless against the Dravanian horde. What a clever little bitch.’
With Estinien’s mood soured and answer in hand, he quickly chose the dragoons based on their place in the line, something he would not often do as he always tried to take the time and observe each one for their potential. Alas, he ordered the unchosen recruits to return to their knightly duties, disappointed but unsurprised as they were, as he quickly made his way to the proving hall’s doors without saying another word, leaving his subordinates confused as to what had gotten their commander’s ire.
Rapid footsteps clicked against the stone floors of the barracks’ hallways as he headed towards the armoury, fetching his lance as he passed by concerned dragoon knights who knew better than to be in his way. Fetching his weapon, he then headed to the training grounds in order to let out his anger, which found him crossing the main plaza to get to his destination.
“You blind fools! Do you not see how your beloved church is lying to you?!” A high-pitched scream cuts through the morning mass, turning the heads of citizens and guards alike towards the young man in tattered blue robes being roughly dragged to the gallows by two Temple Knights. “You bloody Azure Dragoon! Traitor to your kin! Seducer of our Lady! DIE!” he shrieks in his face as the madman notices Estinien, strength surging into his dishevelled body as if blessed by Halone herself, prying his arms from his captors and lunging for the dragoon commander. Calloused hands wrapped around his neck, citizens gasping with shock as the two lose their balance and fall onto the stone road with Estinien narrowly avoiding hitting the back of his head as they tumbled down.
Curling his armoured fist, Estinien pummeled the heretic trying to strangle him right across the face, again and again as the sound of bone crackling drew in a crowd while the two knights fumbled to pull the sod off of the Azure Dragoon. “In the name of Halone we order you to cease!” They cried out, trying to stop the heretic’s assault, blood now covering half of his face as Estinien’s fist decimated what was left of it. As the blood reached his mouth, the man spit in the dragoon’s face, smirking wildly soon thereafter.
“I know you,” The heretic shrieked as he was finally being pried off Estinien, knights now aided by guards subduing the madman as they held him back, “Ferndale burned and yet you lived! Ferndale’s useless bastard lived! But fear not, soon enough you too will be useful- Follower of Her Lady Iceheart or not! You will join our ranks when your betters cast you out like a dog-” The man was interrupted by a heavy blow to the head, incapacitating him faster than one could blink.
Estinien watched in silence as the men quickly dragged the limp and bloodied heretic off to what he could only guess were the proving grounds, where he will most likely meet his end. Wiping the bloodied spit off his face, he quietly stood up as the citizens around him averted their eyes and slowly went back to their daily lives.
With the heretic’s words still ringing in his head, the Azure Dragoon too up his lance once more as he changed his destination from the training grounds to the battlefield.
2.
The winds blew harshly, whistling frantically as they passed Estinien’s pointed ears, thankfully covered by his helmet, as he trudged through the icy hellscape that was Coerthas on this forsaken day. A blizzard was no doubt approaching, but the timing of nature’s frigid rancour made no difference as a storm was already brewing in both his heart and mind. Thoughts fogged by the still-stinging pain of betrayal and vengeance, Estinien clenched his fist around his lance as he saw his lady so boldly chatting and laughing with her followers - as if mocking him, as if he was the cruel end of a joke, one that would see him fall for an enemy leader, no less, and end with his ill-fated downfall.
He cannot allow that, no matter how great the cost.
Furious, Estinien approached the lady in broad steps, not unlike their first encounter, swiftly raising the tip of his weapon just beneath her throat.
“Explain yourself, heretic bitch!” He roared with such venom that would rival even Nidhogg’s battlecry. Lady Iceheart’s expression changed from surprise to astonishment in one fell swoop, her eyebrows furrowing together as she glared daggers at him, features darkened and dangerous. Keeping silent, she only pushed the tip of his lance away with the back of her fingers, gentle as a summer breeze, while keeping her eye contact, which only infuriated Estinien even more. Taking a few quick steps, the Azure Dragoon grabbed her by the arm and yanked her closer, screaming in her face “Answer me! You have enthralled me, just like the others, have you not?!” He paused as he shoved her away, switching his lance to his non-dominant hand as he instead grabbed her by the collar of her hood and lifted her off the rugged steps of the mills, “I should have killed you… I knew I should have slayed you where you stood!”
Witnessing this, the heretics panicked and tried to close in on the two to stop the Azure Dragoon from harming their Lady, but before they could take another step a loud slap broke through the crowd and all fell silent for a moment until the rancorous roar of their Lady pierced the air.
“Heed my words, Dragoon,” she threatened while Estinien stood there, stunned as he nursed the slap he had just received from the Heretic Queen. His cheek was sore, his lip was bleeding, and his helmet was halfway off his head.
“You ought to think before you make such careless accusations. Lest you forget who you’re speaking to, I will stop at nothing for my people - I even let a blood hound like you have his way with Saint Shiva’s vessel…And yet no matter how desperate or dire a situation may be, I would not place anyone under enthrallment.” She continued, voice low and dangerous and steeped in venom, with a tone nigh divine and commanding of respect, leaning in closer to the man glaring at her while clutching his cheek with his armoured hand “Leave. Leave and do not let me see your bloody face ever again, or I shall make of you wyrmling feed.” She finished while jabbing her frigid scepter into his collar, her hand bloodied from the cuts received when in contact with the sharp bits of his helmet.
“Bloody bitch…” He swore under his breath as he turned around, following the footsteps he took earlier leading back to his chocobo, taking up the reins and riding it back to Ishgard. He could not risk it all now, not when her mercy on his life granted him such an opportunity to land a blow not only to her but her precious vermin. “See you on the battlefield, Iceheart.”
As soon as he returned to Ishgard from his short encounter with Iceheart, Estinien reveals the heretics’ location to The Lord Commander, who’s elated beyond belief about the news and gives his dear friend a heavy pat on the shoulder, praising him for his diligence as orders are sent to the Temple Knights to mobilize and prepare for war, but just as all is well and Estinien leaves to ready his men, Aymeric leans over to Lucia.
“Follow him- do not let him out of your sight,” He whispers, his features darkening, “I fear our friend is not as veracious as he tries to let on.”
Pleased with himself of his accomplishment, Estinien mocks Ysayle in his thoughts believing that he had won both the battle and the war, and yet her words are still nagging him - just as annoying as their mistress is - so he makes a detour for the church where a clergyman can have him checked for magicks.
“There seems to be no trace of curses on you, son, much less enthrallment -” He responded almost in a fatherly fashion which made Estinien feel a sense of relief, but only momentarily as his blood quickly ran cold, “You were lucky to escape them, you ought to be more careful next time.”
“Aye, although I fear there may not be a next time…” The Azure Dragoon replied, earning him a confused look from the elderly man. As he bid his thanks to the clergyman, Estinien made his way out of the hall and into the corridor, taking his time walking in the direction of the armoury while subordinates ran past him as they had just received orders to immobilize in the main hall.
He should’ve been happy to hear there were no magicks nor enthrallment placed on him, but the realisation of his mistaken belief hit him like an avalanche and making him stumble into the wall, clutching his mouth and slouching over as he felt bile burn at his throat, gulping it down before he could spew out his breakfast. Clad only in his armour, Estinien leaped from a nearby open window and rushed towards the stables, where he climbed upon his chocobo’s back while having his feathers groomed, speeding out the gates and back towards the Gorgagne Mills as he left droves of confused citizens behind. His blood was pumping, and really he should’ve felt hot, but the realisation that Ysayle was telling the truth and he just called a strike on her and her people made his veins freeze up and his flesh burn with illusionary frostbite.
Snow began falling.
It didn’t take too long until he arrived at the hideout, where he haphazardly demounted his chocobo, almost slipping and falling into the snow, to the surprise of a few heretics that were still wandering around - gathering their items from outside to prepare for the coming blizzard. Estinien rushed past them, much to their dismay as they failed to stop him, glad that the Holy See has not yet made its way to them and yet still desperate as he sought out Ysayle. Quickly stumbling down the stairs and heaving as he burst through the heretics’ supper, he frantically looked for his lady, spotting her when she stood up, glaring at him as she weilded her scepter and approached him, casting a spell.
“Why you insolent-” She began threatening before being interrupted by his desperate cry.
“You must leave!” He pleaded, approaching her and grabbing her by the wrist in a tight fist, trying to drag her away with him. She resisted and tried to pull her arm back from his clutches, kicking at his armour-plated boot.
“Explain yourself! Had I not told you not to show-”
“They’re coming! The Temple Knights- Lord Commander- You are no longer safe here!” He interrupted her once more as he faced her, startling her slightly with his outburst.
“How do we not know you’re not leading us into an ambush!?” Ysayle shouted back, wounding Estinien a little for not trusting him, not recognising how hypocritical it was of him to expect such from her after their morning encounter.
“Ysayle - there is no time, the Lord Commander is sending the Temple Knights- The Mills will be ash - razed to the ground by dusk if you do not leave now.” He pleaded faster yet softer as he relaxed his grip a little so he could hold her hand instead. “You either trust in me or in the Holy See. Do what you will but you must decide now.” His words wavered slightly as he searched her eyes for an answer.
She took a few moments of hesitation before facing her followers who were now whispering wearily amongst themselves following the news. Before speaking, she tightened the hold on his armoured hand.
“Comrades! The Holy See is upon us, make haste and prepare for departure!”
Estinien saw just how she commanded her people, dreading ever having doubted her words as now saw with eyes unclowded: people, just like him; It shook him to the core, seeing how they all arose and helped one another, hurriedly packing their and their comrades’ necessities, whereas his own troops cared not for their fellow Dragoons, only their duty. He sighed with relief for the second time that day, yet did not hold his breath, he still had to fix the chaos he had created.
As some heretics were already packed and good to go, Ysayle instructed them to take out the chocobos from the stables and secure the carts before she too ran to help the others. Slipping from his grasp, Estinien tried to catch her hand again but she was gone in the sea of heads, only following her with his eyes as the reality of his mistake sunk deeper within him. Had he only listened…
Not willing to simply stand there doing nothing, he followed the heretics going towards the stables and aided them in securing their carts, attaching one to his chocobo as well. It did not take long until all the heretics were readied and out of the mills, with Ysayle coming out last as she carried a heavy knapsack upon her back. Seeing this, Estinien rushed to her side to help her with it, only to be shoved away by her shoulder as she headed towards one of the carts and throwing the bag into the pile of items.
“Head for Tailfeather, ‘tis a safe haven! Make for it now and do not look back!” Ysayle commanded the heretics as they embarked their chocobos and carts, causing the convoy to slowly begin moving.
3.
“Lord Commander,” Lucia calls to her superior as she closes the door of his office behind her. “Lucia,” he returns, “You come with news, I pray?”
The commander approaches Aymeric’s desk, “I fear I bring ill-tidings,” she sighed, earning her superior’s intrigue. “Ser Estinien had himself checked for magicks at the clergy, specifically on suspicions of enthrallment. Coupled with the heretical paraphernalia found inside his barracks…” She paused as she placed a pendant in front of the Lord Commander, his features shrouded with an inexplicable dread and anger as he examined the pendant, opening it to find a dried blue flower bud and what he could only guess was the inked sketch of a maiden unknown to him, but who his gut told him was the heretical leader Lady Iceheart.
“They’ve become emboldened, it seems,” He spat as he clentched the piece of jewelry in his fist, “To target and enthrall even the Azure Dragoon…”
“The clergyman cleared him of enthrallment, Ser,” Lucia corrected, taking the pendant back for safekeeping as it would later be used as evidence against the Azure Dragoon.
“ ‘Tis not a secret that their powers are primitive,” Aymeric argued as he took up a piece of parchment and dipped his quill in ink only to then write on it frantically, “That even my own friend would betray me…”
As he signed his name at the bottom, he handed the parchment to Lucia.
“‘Tis an order for his immediate capture. Estinien Varlineau is henceforth stripped of all military titles and medals and wanted for high treason against Ishgard and Her people.”
4.
As the last cart was about to depart with the remaining heretics, a roar was heard through the snowfall “Charge and do not let a single one escape!”
Estinien’s heart sank to his stomach as he saw a stampede of Temple Cavalry descend from the snow-covered hills that overlooked Gorgagne Mills, illuminated by the few remaining rays of sunlight as night fell upon them.
“Leave, now! Go!” Ysayle urged her followers to depart, yet with loyalty unwavering, the heretics jumped down into the snow and took one last stand to protect their Lady. Estinien was brandishing his lance when he suddenly noticed one of the heretics cut down the leather straps of the carriage, detaching it from the chocobo, as another turned to the Azure Dragoon and, with determination and conviction, ordered:
“Take Her Lady and go! You would do well to protect her, let our sacrifice be not in vain!”
Ysayle, overhearing, panicked and started roaring orders to run, to retreat, frenzied that yet more blood would spill in her name. Estinien heaved her up over his shoulder as she kicked and slammed her fists upon his armoured back, screaming at him to let her go, to let her stay and fight with her people, but her protests fell on deaf ears as he held her secure in his grasp as he climbed onto the back of the last chocobo and rode away, his heart breaking at the sound of the maiden’s gut wrenching wail.
As he held tighter onto her, he heard another roar, this one calling his name. Looking over his shoulder he saw the illuminated form of his best friend, Lord Commander, glaring at him as he escaped with Lady Iceheart.
He could put all of this behind him, return to him with the Lady, capture her, and have his name be hailed as a hero for the rest of history. He would be revered among saints as the man who put an end to the heretics' efforts and possibly even to the Dragonsong War. He could have anything in the world, anything he wanted, he could avenge his family, all the people who have died in this woman’s name…
And yet, he turned his head and rode faster, leaving his old life behind alongside his title of Azure Dragoon as he headed north towards Dravania while the form of his bestest friend was encased by darkness as the sun finally dipped ‘neath the earth, the blizzard shrouding the two in a veil of snow. Estinien clutched tightly at his shattered lady, who now was hiding her face in his armoured chest while he could do nothing more but watch and regret as he kept on heading towards their safe haven. Although he had not quite known the men and women who have given their lives for their escape, he swore to himself that this oath he will keep - he will keep their Lady safe.
5.
Once they arrived in Tailfeather, a large crowd of local hunters formed around the heretics’ convoy, intrigued at what had fared so dire that would necessit such a displacement. Warily, Estinien went to help Ysayle disembark their chocobo but as he went to take her hand into his, she pushed him away and walked off, long strides making the Lady of Ice seem like a blur in the wind.
“Ysayle-” Estinien called out, confusion betrayed by his tone as he quickly followed her, “Wait–”
A booming and swift crackle interrupted the murmur of the mass, gasps permeating the chatter as Lady Iceheart’s fist made impact with the Azure Dragoon’s cheek. The surprise of the impact destabilised him and made him fall upon his back, with the back of his head hitting the grass and somewhat softening the blow. Dazed, he shook his head and tried to push himself up on his elbows, covering the right side of his face that felt as if he had just gotten kicked by the back hooves of a Wooly Yak, sore and disoriented, the taste of copper soon flooding his mouth. Before he could move any further, the rancorous Iceheart slammed him right back into the dirt, knocking his head back into the same spot and making him all the more nauseous, her boot pressing heavily against his chestplate and keeping him in place.
“You bastard son of a leper!” She shrieked at him, voice breaking from the pitch, “How many more lives will you claim?” Tears began running down her cheeks like twin rivers, making Estinien cower in shame for the first time in his adult life, his heart breaking at the sound of Ysayle’s pain - she who once was a sworn enemy, now somehow something more, something unexplained within his life. That she looked at him now with such hatred, her glare one that would rival even that of Nidhogg’s - all protests died in his throat, wincing when he saw her scramble for something around her waist, throwing himself back an ilm when she took a hold of her scepter and weilded it in her right hand, knuckles red and bruised from the earlier strike.
“You… I will end your reign of suffering!” She shrilled, her throat coarse from anguish, consumed by hatred and the wish of vengeance upon the man she had allowed so close to her heart, the man she had foolishly considered a partner- a lover. Estinien protected his face with his forearms just in time for Ysayle’s swing, the pointed tip of her scepter ripping his gloves and flesh, digging a crimston trench through his muscles and making him cry out in pain. Her anger so pure made her forget her magicks as her only focus now was to maim and murder the source of all of her pain.
Before she could take a second swing at him, she was grabbed by both arms and dragged back kicking and screaming. Looking up to see her captors, Ysayle noticed two familiar faces: the nurse that cared for her when found by the hunters of Tailfeather, and their leader, Marcechamp, whom she considered her adoptive father.
The flames of hatred within her heart were soon put out by a flood of anguish, overwhelmed by the pain of betrayal, of loss, and of displacement, Ysayle dropped to her knees and let go of her scepter, falling with a thud against the dirt as she wailed with bloodied hands around Marcechamp as if she was a young lass again, begging for succor from her parent. The elder elezen male hugged his foster daughter tightly, stroking her hair as he oft did when she was younger. His heart was crushed by seeing her in such a state, and her outburst at the Azure Dragoon brought him no end of questions, yet all he could do now is stay put and comfort the poor lass as she let out her pain, watching as some of the locals helped Estinien up, staggering for a few steps as he watched Ysayle before hanging his head down in shame while being led to the infirmary.
6.
The silence between himself and the hunter nurse was awkward, to say the least, and the tension in the room could be cut with a dagger.
“Ye er, must have done somethin’ quite serious to have warranted the Little One’s wrath…”
Estinien’s eyebrow shot up from his frown as he looked at the male nurse as if he had sprouted two heads.
“ Little One? ”
“Ysayle, lil’ Ysayle.”
‘Little?’ Estinien asked himself as if he would know the answer.
“Ah… Aye, you could say that,” He paused and looked down, his head tipping slightly with shame as a curtain of silver hair shielded the sides of his face. Closing his eyes, he breathed in deeply while his arms were being bandaged up, inhaling sharply and wincing when he felt a cold salve being applied on his wounds.
“Pardon me my curiosity but- Do you know her?” He asked, trying to distract himself from the pain.
A sharp tug around his forearm made him wince, the nurse had tied his bandage a little too tight. Warily, the hunter nurse spoke, “Aye, she an’ I are close, as we all are. Alas, ‘tis a story for Marcechamp to tell- if he is so inclined, that is,” he replied cryptically, finishing Estinien’s bandages and standing up a little too quickly from his chair to wipe his hands in a nearby bowl of water, “Yer all patched up - as dragoon I assume you know the drill: no strain, no fisticuffs, change your bandages often and let your wounds breathe. Here’s your salve,” he said as he dried his hands on a cloth and handed Estinien the small jar from which he had applied the cold concoction, “And here’s yer rolls of gauze.”
Nodding with a grateful hum, Estinien bagged the items in a waist satchel and pulled down his rolled sleeves, buttoning the cuffs back up before noticing they’re ripped and stained with blood, making him give up on salvaging them. “Thank you,” he said as he went to open the door, stopping in his tracks as it was already being opened by another hunter who was entering with a few heretic refugees.
“Do me a favour, will ya’? Apologise to her and go seek Marcechamp. I’ve no business in what you have gotten yerself into, but if you seek a comfortable stay ‘ere you ought to get along with our little sister.”
The former Azure dragoon merely nodded before making his exit.
7.
The Lord Commander’s quarters were in disarray, books and documents toppled alongside ink wells and quills, with the man himself pacing nervously across the room.
“Aymeric you mustn’t let this matter consume you so, your people need you now-” Lucia pleaded with him, picking up all which he had thrown off his desk in a fit of rage, “You knew this would happen! There is nought you can do now but plan around and find a way-”
“The evidence we found in his room was damning, and yet I did nothing. I aided a traitor by protecting him from justice! And- Find a way to what, pray tell?! To send even more of my men and women into a trap? To have more be enthralled by that zealot?!” Aymeric shouted at Lucia, his voice dripping with desperation, “Who am I to trust, huh? Show me who else I can trust - when my right hand man betrayed his country, his comrades, his friends !”
Lucia was not easily swayed. She left all she had in her hands on a neat pile atop the wooden desk before heading back to her Lord Commander, softening her gaze as she looked up at his grief-stricken face, cupping his cheek with a gloved hand.
“And yet I am here, I swore an allegiance to you,” She could see him soften slightly as he breathed out heavily, his whole body trembling from the myriad of emotions, “You still remember that, I trust?”
Aymeric took a moment before closing his eyes and nodding slightly, the two sharing a quiet and chaste kiss, relaxing him only by a little.
As they pulled apart from each other, a knock was heard from behind the heavy double doors before they opened, revealing Archbishop Thordan VII alongside two of his Heavens’ Ward guards standing at each side.
“Lord Commander,” He spoke with a distant and low tone, taking a few steps inside the quarters.
“Archbishop, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Aymeric quickly tried to put on a presentable facade with the hopes to mask his earlier outburst.
“I’ve no interest in your pleasantries. I have been informed of the Azure Dragoon’s treachery and of your failure to capture not only the heretics but Lady Iceheart as well.”
“Your excellency, I can assure you that the Lord Commander has done everything within his power-”
“Silence, Commander, my dealings are not with you.” The Archbishop retorted with venom in his words, making Aymeric step forward between both Lucia and his father.
“Rest assured that ‘tis only a minor set-back. In our campaign, my knights have taken over the heretics’ hideout as well as a majority of their supplies,” Aymeric explained himself, “We have a newly appointed commander of the Dragoons - at least until we can retrieve the Eye, and my soldiers are on a search mission all throughout Coerthas as we speak.” The Archbishop only glared at the Lord Commander, as if the one he was so viciously demeaning was not his own flesh and blood.
“The Fury must favour you, Lord Commander. I hope you understand how lucky you are to not only still have your rank but your head as well.”
Aymeric held strong, unflinching at his father’s remarks, yet cracks began appearing in his resolve.
“Return the Eye, eradicate those heretics, and bring me back the zealots’ heads. Only then will your failures be forgiven.”
With that, the Archbishop left the room, the heavy double doors shutting with a loud thud as the clicks of the knights’ boots alongside their leader grew fainter as they walked off, leaving behind two shaken-up commanders.
8.
By now, all the displaced heretics have been given either a bed to sleep in or have set up their tents and were preoccupied with other matters; Some being checked for wounds at the infirmary, others in charge of organizing supplies, while the more culinarily gifted of the lot aider their Lady in cooking the nights’ supper with the help of a few Tailfeather’s hunters.
Estinien was taking a break from helping unload the carts as he began bleeding through his bandages, now sitting down and watching Ysayle prepare ingredients for the second cauldron of stew for the night. He sighed, in his moment of respite, snacking on the end of a dried loaf he had nicked from their table, thinking back at what the hunter-nurse had said to him just an hour earlier.
“Hope I’m not interrupting somethin’?” He heard a male voice approach him from his right. In front of him stood a tall, ebony-skinned Elezen, adorned in furs and leathers and with his dark hair tied up in a spiked bun - it was the man from earliner, the one who had saved him from Ysayle’s ire. From what Estinien could discern, he was around Alberic’s age - or thereabouts.
“Ye know ye really are not supposed to strain yer arms after what the Little Lass has done to ‘em.” He spoke again, with a distant but relaxed tone, much like a father would to a misbehaving son.
“I cannot merely sit with a finger up my arse, especially not after I am the cause of all this mayhem.” Estinien replied gravely, taking another crunchy bite of his piece of bread.
“I know, she’s told me,” The man said, chuckling after a moment, “ ‘Tis not my place to intervene, but had I known beforehand of yer doing… I might not have stepped in so quick when she was going for yer throat.”
Estinien was quiet, he knew his sins and did not need yet another reminder. Seeing how his lighthearted attempt at lifting the mood fell flat, the man sat down on the crate next to Estinien and sighed.
“Wrong foot an’ all that. Name’s Marcechamp, chocobo hunter, so-called leader of this little town, an’ foster father of te lil’ spitfire.” He extended his hand to his fellow Elezen, inviting him to shake it. Estinien looked at it, and then at him, seeming a little surprised to hear that name.
“Estinien, former Azure Dragoon of Ishgard, you probably already know the rest.” He replied in kind as he shook the older man’s hand. “You are the one who found Ysayle when she was orphaned, are you not?” He hesitantly asked, unable to hide his curiosity at the man that had saved Ysayle’s life.
“Sure am, found an’ took ‘er under my wing, so to speak. I get the feelin’ she hasn’t told you much about ‘er past, has she?”
Estinien only shook his head, “Aye, you are right on that.”
An awkward pause fell between the two until Marcechampt spoke again.
“I can tell she loves ye, and maybe ye love ‘er too-” He paused when Estinien began choking on his bite of bread, having been taken by surprise by such a sudden topic change. Giving the young man two strong pats on the back, he continued “I won’ tell ye too much, but what I do I hope will help ye understand ‘er a little better.”
Estinien only nodded, his cough dying down as he stopped choking.
“The lass was only nineteen-years-old when I found ‘er, unconscious and emaciated at the edges of the caelumtrees. Poor thing, had she wandered into the opening I say not even the hungry drakes would approach her - she was only skin and bones, I feared she would not make the night…”
Estinien could see Marcechamp wince with pain as he recounted finding his foster-daughter before a smile crept up his lips with a soft chuckle, his features warming back up again.
“And yet she did, the little lass was a warrior - an’ she only got stronger by the day. ‘Er first weeks with us were difficult, she would only stare up at the sky or sit in ‘er bed quietly, but we stod by ‘er, gave ‘er succor an’ time, an’ once she finally opened up, she became the town’s little sister.”
“ ‘Tis… She had not mentioned this to me before.” Estinien commented, surprised at the pang in his heart as he listened to Marcechamp’s tale.
“I am not surprised, she ‘ad earned ‘er nickname of “Iceheart” afterall. It took us years to piece together the puzzle of ‘er past - before she came to us. Alas, to us she is the ‘Lovely Ysayle’, the hearth of Tailfeather, she joined us in hunts, trained with the youngsters, took care of the livestock, watched over the little ones…” Marcechamp recounted her deeds, stopping himself from going into detail about each act lest he kept the dragoon up all night while he gushed about his foster-daughter, “All in all a gentle soul, she is beloved to all here, yet I fear she is blind to that. I can’t help but feel a lingering pain in ‘er eyes, an’ I know it’s from what she’s been through but -” He turned to Estinien, searching for solidarity in his eyes, “It’s hard to see someone ye love an’ care for suffer, without bein’ able to do damn bloody anythin’ about it. Ye understand that, don’t ‘cha?”
Estinien’s brows frowned, tilting upwards, as he quickly averted his gaze to the ground below. He hung his head down in shame, his pointed ears flattening as he gulped down on his guilt, “T’would be hypocritic of me to say I do when I am the cause of much of her grief-” he paused, rubbing his shoulder in a vain attempt to soothe himself, “I wish I could take it all back - That this all would have been different, and the circumstances of our… Relationship… Not so ill-fated.”
Marcechamp nodded, his gaze shifting back on Ysayle who was conversing with old acquaintances in the distance from what it seemed, before his attention was brought back to the young man as he heard him try to drown a hiccup.
“I wish not for forgiveness, I know already that it is too far gone given the trouble I have caused her, all I wish now is to take it all away- The pain, the sorrow… I wish to take back all that I have done to torment her so. I wish her peace - if only my mere presence would not cause her turmoil…”
“If that is what ye seek, then give ‘er time. She is not as fragile as ye might think she is, quite the opposite, but she holds onto her grudges tightly - understandably so. Apologise to ‘er, honestly and from yer heart, an’ let ‘er do the rest,” Marcechamp paused to pat Estinien’s slouched back, “ ‘Tis up to her if she choses to forgive or not, an’ if she does, ye can be there an’ heal together, if she does not, give ‘er peace to heal ‘erself, and ye yerself.”
Estinien nodded, eyes still fixed on the ground, too ashamed to even look at the man that helped raise the lady that stole his heart.
“Duty calls, don’ get yer hopes up too much, boy, but the best of luck to ye nonetheless.” Marcechamp announces as he stands up, taking his leave to join his fellow hunters after finishing his short break, leaving Estinien all by his lonesome once more.
9.
“Little Lass, dear, when will ye come by for a visit? I’ll bake ye yer favourite biscuits!” An elderly hunter invited Ysayle as he passed by while carrying a crate of supplies.
“Soon enough, Uncle Grimold!” She replied hastily while being surrounded by acquaintances of eld.
“My, you’ve grown so tall! How glad that the Lovely Ysayle is back, we all missed you so, dearie!” A much elderly woman doted on Ysayle as she looked at her hands, “So well-fed too!”
“Ah- thank you, nana, ‘tis all with your care and tending to me-”
Another lady noticed her fingers, “No ring on you yet, lass? I could have bet that young men would throw themselves at ye by now! A lovely lass such as yerself must have many suitors by now - are there none to yer liking? You remember my nephew-”
“Thank you for the offer, but I will have to pass for now!” Ysayle shot the offer down as a blush formed on her cheeks, occupying her hands with a few empty bowls of stew, trying to take them away as an excuse to escape the crowd.
“Aye, leave the poor lass alone you ol’ gaggle, can you not see yer pestering the girl? Go, she ain’t even had time to visit the infirmary!” A stern older lady appeared, separating the crowd around her. The eldest of the bunch by far, and the only one with some sense in her head too. Ysayle breathed a sigh of relief as she put down the bowls and quickly followed the lady to the infirmary, leaving behind a crowd worrying over her well-being and wishing her good health.
As soon as they arrived inside, Ysayle let out an audible sigh of relief, allowing herself to slouch her shoulders, something she never thought she would do in front of the lady that had saved her just a moment earlier.
In front of her stood Clementinette, the senior physician of Tailfeather and a foster grandmother of sorts to Ysayle. She was always stern with her in her youth, often being the one to discipline her, yet she would never yell or belittle her, only ever acting as a guiding hand. Unbeknownst to Ysayle as the lady would seldom share her past, the reason she was often hard on the lass was because of her own loss in her family, and in her strive to try and protect Ysayle, she was often hard on the poor girl.
“Thank you, Lady Clementinette-”
“How many times had I told you not to call me that, girl?”
Ysayle was taken aback by the lady’s bluntness, quickly dispelling any hope she had for peace and quiet.
“Meaning no disrespect, I am not a young girl anymore. If you are to treat me just like the others do, then I shall take my leave.” Ysayle went to turn before being interrupted by an unconcerned “No, you shan’t.”
“I’ve better to do than sit and listen to another one of your lectures,” Ysayle crossed her arms, steeling herself against the older woman, “Are we done here?”
“Do what you will, you know more than anybody that I do not give a chocobo’s arse. However, you cannot expect me to just let you go on without a check-up when everybody else had gotten theirs. Now sit down and let me have a look at you.”
Ysayle could only growl under her breath at being treated just like in her past, as if she was some uncomplacent child, and yet she herself could not ignore the ache in her bones, the nausea that has been plaguing her for a few weeks coming, and her sheer exhaustion. By all means, she needed a break, and it might as well be while she was being looked after by the damn near best physician she knew.
The young lady took a seat on a nearby bed, unclasping her jacket and letting it fall around her waist together with her leather bodice. What followed were a few general procedures, such as her temperature being taken, her lungs being listened to, reflexes and all. Clementinette had a habit of working quietly, which Ysayle was thankful for more often than not, now allowing her to think back on the check-ups in her youth.
Compared to Falcon’s Nest, Tailfeather was more primitive when it concerned both the way of life and the healthcare, as the town was so small it could not afford a trained healer, and thus had to rely on old techniques of care with minimum involvement from magic, whereas Falcon’s Nest always had at least a healer on call, making check-ups and subsequent treatments that much quicker and convenient.
“What is that?” Ysayle inquired as she saw the elderly physician take out a round disk made out of what seemed to be a transparent crystal adorned with a simple golden rim.
“An investment,” Clementinette replied flatly, wiping the disk with a cloth before holding it up to her eye and looking at Ysayle’s abdomen, a devilish smirk forming on her lips, “It feels good to be right, that Madrie owes me good gil now.”
Ysayle frowned in confusion, crossing her arms at the scrutiny of the elderly lady in front of her.
“Quit speaking in riddles, why have you placed a bet on me? More importantly-”
“Quiet down, lass, we old folks need to find our fun somehow. When you went off to Fury-knows-where the girls were betting on you havin’ ran away, or you dyin’, I just bet on you coming back knocked up. Congratulations, by the way.”
Clementinette nonchalantly put away her tools, making sure they were all neatly stored into their cases while Ysayle had to pick her jaw back off the floor.
“W- Bet?! On me- With a babe! How- But we- Those potions-” The panicking elezen maiden could barely string a sentence together as her head kept moving from her belly to her foster-grandmother and back to her belly, grasping it with both hands. “There must be a mistake- I cannot be with babe!”
“Aether disk, bloody good tool, damn expensive too. It allows us to see aether, and you, lass, have a second little ball of it in your womb. Unless you recently gorged on a living being and your womb was in your stomach, I am damn sure you’re pregnant.”
Ysayle had sat in silence, only staring at her belly which showed no signs of pregnancy, yet all her recent symptoms started making sense. ‘But she and Estinien drank contraceptive potions- Had they not worked?... Or was this because of their earlier encounters when they had no such inhibitors…’ She asked herself, her body beginning to tremle, sparking concern from the older woman.
As Ysayle covered her face with her hands and slumped over, Clementinette quietly pulled her blue jacket over her shoulders and gently moved her hair over her back as the expecting mother began to sob.
“Listen, child, you needn’t worry yourself. I won’t let the others know unless you are the one to tell them, and if it is your want to rid yourself of this child, I will help you do so.” She began stroking the maiden’s head, pulling her in an embrace, “You musn’t carry this weight alone, you have a family here who cares for you. We will see that no harm comes to you nor your child if so is your want to keep it.”
Ysayle only hugged her foster-grandmother tight and sobbed into her shoulder, just as she had in her youth on rare occasions, whenever she would go to Clementinette for succor when she could not go to anyone else.
“I- ‘Tis not- The news are glad, they really are…” Ysayle said as she took in a deep breath before a small hiccup, “Although they come ill-timed, I am happy for this child, and I wish to keep it…” She smiled, sniffling for a moment as she gently pulled back from the embrace. “These times are most difficult, with an unpredictable future, and I know not how to further my duties… ‘Tis as if I had failed, but… I had always hoped I could make a future better for my people and my children. I know… I am certain I shan’t give up on my dream, more less now.”
The elderly woman smiled, wiping Ysayle’s tears as she calmed down, “There is the lass I know, the Unbreakable Ysayle.” They both chuckled, and Ysayle gave her one big hug again, taking her by surprise before they parted once more, then began dressing herself back up, tying her bodice and clasping her jacket in place.
“I know ‘tis not my place but you ought to tell the father, if he is with us- That is. He deserves to know, and you too would then know if he will be there for you. We surely will be.”
The elezen maiden fixed her clothes and breathed deeply, calming herself before preparing to return to her followers. “If I had not yet killed him, grandmother.” She jested.
“You nearly did back there, I’ll take your word for it.”
Ysayle blushed as her eyebrows show up, “How did you?-”
“Plain as a chocobo, dear. Speaking of the feathery fellas, you are just as healthy. The babe too, given what you have been through, they will be just as strong as their mother.” Clementinette informed the Ysayle, smiling softly as she watched her rub her belly and smile too. “How far along am I?”
“A month, give-or-take a few days.” Ysayle nodded, now knowing almost exactly when she and Estinien had conceived this child. Right before she began insisting on the contraceptive potions too…
“Makes sense… Ah- Thank you, grandmother. I hope your winnings are plenty.” Ysayle chuckled, now in higher spirits than before.
“Hah! Make sure to tell ‘em when I’m there, I want to see the look of shock on all their faces!”
Ysayle bid the elderly woman farewell before she exited the infirmary, the cold air nipping at her skin as she made her way back to the congregation. With the majority of people now dispersed, either having gone to rest or busy with other chores, she finally had some peace and quiet to have her supper. Making her way to the cauldron, she was happy to find there were still a few portions left, and so she took a clean bowl and filled it up with piping hot stew.
‘I wonder if he had eaten yet…’ Ysayle asked herself as her movements slowed but quickly picked up again a moment later, placing her bowl on the nearby table and fetching a second bowl, filling that one up too. ‘My grudge is no use to me now. I must tell him… If nothing but to have an answer.’ She reassured herself, but secretly she had a spark of hope within her heart that he too would be delighted by the news of their child.
With a new resolve, Ysayle took both bowls in each hand, spoons already dipped in both and propped against the edges, as she began her search for Estinien.
10.
“Bloody pebbles…” Estinien grunted as he had tried to lay on the grassy spot he chose as his bed for the night, far removed from the rest of the town. He had no tent, nor did he feel right to claim asylum in one of the homes, so he chose a quaint little place near the river, making a small campfire on a rock and trying his best to fall asleep while not being able to use his forearms as pillows due to the intensity of the wounds.
Hearing footsteps approach him, he tilted his head backwards, looking in the direction of their source with eyes squinted.
“You’ve come to finish the job?” He commented at the upside-down Iceheart, trying to keep an aloof facade when he truly just wanted to whither up and perish.
“Yes, I have, I shall bash you with two bowls of stew, how observant of you.” Ysayle quipped right back as she took a seat right next to him on the large stone overlooking the river.
Estinien rolled away from her, looking towards the river which sparkled with moonlight. His heart was in his throat, for once in his life he did not know what to do. Should he apologise now? Should he go to sleep? Should he leave?
“Get up, I know you haven’t eaten. You and your bloody self-pity, ‘tis the reason you choose to rest out here too, is it not?”
“Let me be, Ysayle.”
A sharp and icy sting made him quickly shoot up, turning to the little witch and glaring at her as he massaged the back of his neck.
“Eat with me, while it’s still warm.” She commanded, nonchalantly, as she began eating from her bowl.
As he looked down at his bowl, Estinien suddenly felt small, his stomach tightening and a knot lodging into his throat. He grunted, his guilt and shame weighing on him tenfold at Ysayle’s care for him. Once again he failed to be there for her, and once again she had come to him. Always taking, never giving…
“I… Am sorry. I really am so very sorry, Ysayle…” He blurted out, quietly, staring at the warm stew as the corners of his eyes stung. “I have been nothing but horrible to you, I have let my anger and distrust cause you suffering. My desperation led to your comrades perishing and you being uprooted, again…”
Ysayle only stared at him, quietly, waiting for him to finish.
“I have committed unmeasurable sins against you, and yet you still come to extend your hand to me… I do not deserve this, any- Any of it, of you.” He struggled to get the last words out, turning his head to the side and wiping his face with his ripped sleeve, sniffling as he tried to pry his eyes off of everything and look at her damn it .
“I… Wish to take away your pain- Everything that I had done-” He paused, locking eyes with her, hands trembling as he slowly reached out for hers as two streams of tears rolled down his cheeks and trying his hardest not to crack in front of her, “I ask for nothing… But to hear that you will be alright. Please… I cannot help but be selfish with you again… I beg of you, with or without me by your side- Will you heal the wounds I’ve given you?”
Ysayle placed her bowl down and gently took his hands into hers, noticing how he nearly damn shattered in front of her as she squeezed his trembling fingers. She shuffled closer trying not to tip over the bowls as she leaned over his shoulder and rested her head, hearing his quiet sobs that he failed to keep under control. She felt his forehead resting on her own shoulder, and so they stood like this for what felt like eons.
Until Ysayle interrupted the silence.
“In a time of war, I cannot help but understand you. I too have committed sins, both grave and small, that I shall carry forever in my soul.” She spoke oh so softly, “You could not help but still see me as the enemy, even after we had become so close, this is how deep the church’s lies seep into one’s soul-”
“The fault is mine alone, Ysayle, I shouldn have trusted you-” Estinien interrupted.
“And yet you didn’t. I do not fault you for that, you had no other choice.”
Estinien squeezed her hands tightly, sniffling as he pressed his forehead deeper into her shoulder.
“But I had! By the Fury, Ysayle, listen to me for once! I am not a child, following his father’s tellings, but a man who has allowed himself to sin, gravely, towards one whom he was meant to protect!”
Ysayle was taken by surprise, her eyes big as Estinien pulled back and looked into them, pleading with her for redemption. “I should have protected you, bled with you, shared the weight of the dream you carry on your shoulders, instead I have done nothing- Nothing but humiliate you, deceive you, but worst of all… I betrayed you.”
She had every right to hate him, to condemn him and leave him, and yet she couldn’t help but feel pity for the man pleading with her, confessing his sins and begging for absolution. She saw her own pain in him, the sins she has committed against innocents, lives she had taken in her own campaign for the truth - the wounds never truly heal, they follow their carrier to their graves, she does not allow herself forget this, and yet her heart aches for him, carrying much of the same wounds as she does, Ysayle catches herself wishing he would be rid of them when she knows too well they never go away, only diminish.
Seeing how she doesn’t say anything, Estinien’s resolve wavers, and his eyes fall back to the ground as he lets go of her hands.
“It may sound as if it was a cruel joke, I would not blame you if you so thought,” He sighed, defeated, “I love you, Ysayle. I do- truly- and I will never forgive myself for not realising this sooner- and for confusing my… Feelings for you for enthrallment. I love you, and I am so very sorry that I do. Had it not been for this, you would not have suffered so…” Estinien confessed, closing his eyes and wishing nothing more but be with the lifestream in that very moment.
After a few moments of silence, filled only with the crackling of the small campfire, Ysayle spoke in a saddened voice.
“Do you… Not wish to love me anymore?” She asked, placing a hand atop of his.
Estinien gulped, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand and squeezing his eyes shut. He moved his other hand gently to grasp the tips of her fingers, so careful as if she might disappear at any sudden movement.
“ ‘Tis hard not to…” He answered shily, “I merely wish it- I- Had not caused you pain because of it.”
Ysayle hums quietly, and Estinien cannot see her expression, but as he brushes her knuckles with the pad of his thumb, she kisses his cheek. Small, and chaste, yet it provides succor to his aching heart, melting into her lips, he feels lighter.
“Then stay by my side…” Ysayle says, before adding a quiet “Please?”
Estinien could do nothing but nod, repaying her kiss in kind by pressing his lips against her cheekbone, wishing he could do more than this, but it will suffice for now.
“In… The coming time, I will need you by my side more than ever…” Ysayle continued, earning the intrigue of the man in front of her. It was her turn to avert her gaze and feel small as he watched her expectantly.
“Of course.” He replies, watching as she struggles to get the next sentence out of her throat. In an attempt to quell her worry, he cupped her cheek with his free hand, caressing it with his thumb, “I will protect you, and cherish you, and share your burdens - Ysayle - For as long as you would have me and further still.”
She looked up at him, finding reassurance in his light-blue eyes, and sighed, nodding.
“I am carrying our child.”
Estinien felt the world still around them, frozen and his gaze fixed on his lover, staring at her as his brain tried to register her words.
“Sorry?”
Ysayle could not help but burst out laughing, seeing him so bewildered and the situation so awkward… It just made her lose all of her her composure and her laughs spill out while Estinien’s cheeks flushed a deep red.
“I am serious! Ysayle, is it true? Is it in jest? Are you really with child?” He asked, rapid-fire, earning a playful shove from the elezen maiden in his arms.
“I would not jest about such a thing! Yes, I am pregnant - Have been for the past month, apparently.” She looked at him with a joking-stern look, Estinien only blinking at her, not knowing if he should jump up with joy or cower in embarrassment. He looked down at her belly and his body moved on its own, his hand letting go of her fingers and instead pressing against her belly as if he would feel anything by now.
“Oi, Estinien, the little one is too small for my belly to show. Be patient.” She chuckles at seeing him so impatient. He rubbed circles on her belly, seemingly ignoring her for their little one until he suddenly looked up at her with a grief-stricken face.
“By the Fury… My recklessness not only nearly killed you, but our babe too… Ysayle I am so so-”
“Estinien, please, let us enjoy the moment,” She pleaded with him sincerely, placing her hand on top of his, “Are you happy right now?”
He closed his eyes and sighed, nodding, “Unbelievably so. Are you?”
“Of course. We could’ve had a much better timing that this, but I love our child all the same.”
“Mmh.” Estinien huffed in agreement, kissing the top of her head, “Will you tell the others?”
“No, not yet. I have not decided on what would be the best course of action…” She rested her head underneath his chin, breathing slowly.
“If that is your want, I shall follow it,” He smiles, and she feels it on her head, causing her to smile too, “Thank you, for telling me.” Estinien continued, clearly wanting to say so much more but deciding to cut it short as to not yap her ears off, again.
Ysayle nods and pulls back until they are but a breath away, half lidded eyes waiting for the other to make a move, until the both leaned in and united their lips into a gentle kiss, sharing in each other for only a few moments.
Separating, they smiled contently, happy to be this way again, until Ysayle noticed his untouched bowl of stew, her eyebrows furrowing upwards as her expression turned apologetic.
“Your stew… It’s gotten cold.” She remarked, pitifully, before Estinien picked the bowl up and scarfed it down almost in one gulp, surprising his beloved before placing it into her empty bowl and wiping his mouth. “What stew?”
She began standing up as she laughed into her hand, trying to keep her snickering down, “You are a brute, Varlineau.”
He followed her, picking up the bowls to put them away. They walked together back to the congregation, with nobody in sight anymore, as he placed the bowls in the washing-up pile.
“I will see you in the morning then?” He asked, hopeful for the first time that night.
“Why? Are you not coming to sleep?” She answered his question with one of her own, confused.
“Ah- No, no, I am going back to my camp-”
“Your camp?” Ysayle repeated until a moment later it clicked, “You are not sleeping on that rock. Come, we’ll put out the fire. You’re lodging with me.”
Estinien felt surprised yet thankful that she was still looking out for him, happy that she still held him in her heart. As they walked back, they said nothing, only holding each other’s hands until they got to the stone, where Estinien let go and put out the small fire he had made, making sure that it was properly extinguished before dusting his hands and making his way back to Ysayle, who stood and watched him. As he approached, he stilled in front of her, saying nothing, only looking down at her.
“Well? What are you waiting fo-WOAH!” Ysayle yelped as she felt two strong hands wrap around her waist and her feet leave the ground. It took her a moment to realise that she was being hoisted into the air and twirled around by the oaf in front of her.
“Estinien!” She chirped merily, “What had gotten into you!?” The lass laughed as her lover supported her bottom with his wounded forearm and squeezed her into a tight embrace, shoving his face into the crook of her neck before pestering her face with kisses. Truly, it felt as if she was in a dream, never would she have imagined him so outwardly affectionate.
“Leave me be, my love, I cannot do this often, allow me my moment of happiness.” He said between kisses, stilling as he pressed his forehead against hers. They shared a few moments of respite until he finally placed her back on the ground, taking her hands into his and kissing her knuckles.
11.
When they both arrived into Ysayles old room, they began by removing their dirtied clothes while Ysayle checked her old wardrobe, surprised to still see some of her old clothes there, although too small for her ever since she had hit her final growth spurt.
“Is that- The satchel I had given you?” Estinien asked, surprised to see the satchel of gifts he had gifted her not long ago.
“Hm?” Ysayle turned and walked over, “Indeed it is!” She said happily as she remembered the nightgown, taking it out quickly and putting it on as the night’s chill began to nip at her skin while Estinien took out the fur blankets.
Thankfully, her bed was large enough for the both of them and then some, with a blanket atop it already, but there was something selfish within Estinien that wanted to cover her in his furs alone.
Ysayle got into her bed first, covering herself up with her blanket for only a second before Estinien yanked it off.
“Oi!” She chirped quietly, reaching for the stolen blanket until Estinien covered her with his own. “What’s with you now?” She prodded as he got in bed besides her, cosying up under the blankets in nothing but his trousers. Smiling contently as she was in bed, with him, under his furs, Estinien wrapped his arms around his lady and nuzzled in close, doting on her as if he was some great wyrm in his nest.
“Nothing.” He replied, gently rubbing her belly in round motions. Ysayle understood his excitement and it made her all the more delighted to have him with her in this new journey.
“Rest well, then, my love.” She bid him goodnight with a kiss and a cup of his cheek.
“Aye, if only I could.”
“You better!”
Estinien growled in jest, rolling atop Ysayle as she kicked and laughed, trying to keep it quiet as to not wake Marcechamp sleeping in the bedroom next to them.
“I know something that would sate my thirst… If only you would allow me?” Estinien whispered, low and dangerous, as his hands began to wonder while he kissed her neck.
Ysayle moaned at his kisses, her breath hitching as his hands got a hold of her soft skin, causing her to whimper with want.
“Be quick,” She whispers, “And be quiet, I need not explain to my foster-father why you growl like a beast in heat- AH!” Ysayle squeaked as Estinien squeezed her pert nipples before she could even finish her sentence, yanking her sleeves off her shoulders and down to her elbows so he could access her chest only to then hungrily take one breast into his mouth and suck on it while his tongue circled her nipple and his hips thrust into hers.
Feeling his erection rub at her entrance through his trousers, Ysayle quickly pulled them down while moaning softly, freeing him of his tight undergarments.
“You want quick, huh?” Estinein asked again right after letting go of her breast and moving to the other one, treating it just as he did the other.
Ysayle bit her lower lip and nodded, her fingers digging into his scalp. “Ye-es” She squeaked as he pleased her the way he knew she liked before stopping abruptly and grabbing one of her pillows, sitting back with his erect cock at full mast and dripping with precum.
“Roll over.” Estinien commanded as he waited for her, stroking his shaft with his free hand as he watched her roll. She nodded and gulped, excited at what was to come, and as she laid there looking over her shoulder she saw him climb atop her and lift her waist, shoving the pillow under her hips. He readjusted himself in such a way his arms were steeled at each side of her shoulders, his chest pressed flush against her back as he hungrily kissed her neck.
Without any warning, he hiked up her dress above her waist and clumsily slotted himself inside, the head of his cock pushing at her wet folds until he suddenly found her entrance and shoved himself almost to his hilt, causing Ysayle to groan in her pillow. Now inside her, he held tingtly onto her hip with one hand while the other held his weight, pulling himself out before slamming right back in again, groaning with pleasure.
Estinien tried to continue this way but the position was proving more and more challenging, so he sat back up while she kept laying there and lifted her hips with both of his hands, putting her into a much easier spot as they remained connected at the base. He started slow at first, pumping his cock into her wet entrance until he was sure she took him to his hilt, Ysayle was so sweetly trying to keep her voice down but he found it exciting.
Suddenly, he began snapping his hips into hers, his sack slamming into her at a rapid pace, loud and wet slaps breaking through the room as he placed all of his stamina into pleasuring her, growling in his throat as Ysayle began gasping and moaning loudly as she felt the head of his cock slam against her cervix rapidly. She was taken by surprise by his sudden pace, trying to still herself by grabbing onto the sheets as she was unable to control her moans.
The way his throbbing cock slammed into her sweet spot with each thrust, the lewd sounds of their coupling, Estinien’s hunger to bed her…
“Ahh! AHNGH! Haa-Ah-ah-AAH!” Ysayle yelped with each thrust, feeling his hot cock expand her walls.
Estinien moaned between his teeth, grabbing at his lover’s hips and arse and shoulders and arms and anywhere he could get his hands on, until he adjusted himself by grabbing at her shoulders and pushing her into the sheets, pistoning his hips using his weight and fucking Ysayle into the matress while her hands held onto his wrists as she screamed with pleasure.
“What happened- HNGH- To keeping quiet?” Estinien taunted as he growled into her right ear, pressing his entire upper weight into her back while his hands moved, one to cover her mouth and the other to hold her breast. He continued to fuck her at a break-neck pace while she screamed and moaned into his hand, squeezing his cock painfully with her tight pussy, feeling her release close in.
Ysayle writhed underneath him as the pleasure overwhelmed her, drooling all over his fingers before he moved her head to face him, taking her into a deep kiss, capturing her lips into his and wrapping his tongue around hers as his wet hand found the spot in between her legs and began flicking and rubbing her clit with haste, causing Ysayle to gasp and squirm and her legs to tighten together around his wrist, only making him snap his hips harder into her wet cunt.
With Estinien’s kiss drowning out her moans, Ysayle finally came, relief washing all over her body as she screamed in his mouth while her climax caused her pussy to spurt with her cum all over her lover’s cock.
Suddenly pulling back from their kiss and leaving behind a very fuzzy-minded Ysayle, Estinien was preoccupied with getting himself to his own climax. While still plowing her, he rolled her over again, pulling her quickly into him and spreading her legs around his waist as he allowed himself to get lost in his pleasure, body only being driven by his need to breed even though his beloved was already heavy with child. The fact only made him even more excited, his hips snapping desperately as he lost his rhythm, his mind flooded with his mate’s moans and the biological pride that he had sired a babe with her.
Before he knew it, his seed began spilling while he was still snapping his hips, making a mess of both their groins as well as her mattress as he began stilling in her.
They both tried to catch their breaths as Estinien pressed his forehead against Ysayle’s, eyes shut tightly as his chest heaved before collapsing on top of his lover, sweaty chest pressing against her breasts.
“Enjoy these… While you still can…” Ysayle moaned softly in between heaves, her arms snaking around Estinien as she held him tightly, chest rising and falling as her lungs chased for air.
“Certainly…” Estinien inhaled, kissing her jawline and holding her tight as he slid from her warm folds, his cock now flaccid and covered with the results of their lovemaking as he rolled on his back and pulled up their blankets, making sure to tuck Ysayle in snugly at the expense of his own feet hanging out of the furs.
Looking down at the moonlight illuminated face of his beloved, he was absolutely awestruck seeing the lovely lady with a satisfied expression on her face, relaxed and content with their make-up lovemaking.
He kissed the top of her head and squeezed her in his arms, hoping she would one day understand how precious she was to him.