Chapter Text
Snow fell gently from the heavens as Aymeric arrived in Saint Valeroyant’s Forum via the aethernet. The street sweepers were out in force removing snow and breaking up patches of ice; the blizzard last night had been short but fierce, but the skywatchers were predicting clear skies this afternoon, and as he walked across the Forum, he overheard some of his fellow Ishgardians discussing the possibility of getting hot drinks to watch the star shower the Athenaeum had been touting was to begin tonight. Not so long ago, the talk would have been about extra patrols on the walls in anticipation of a possible Dravanian attack, and he could not help but smile softly at the difference.
Just another day in the Republic of Ishgard.
As he approached the Congregation, the knight on door duty for the morning—Firmalbert, as ever, after the battle that had left him with little feeling in his swordarm, but Lucia and Handeloup had worked overtime to present an ironclad report to the priests about why the man could not be dismissed—saluted, and Aymeric nodded back in acknowledgment.
“Ser Firmalbert, good morning,” he said.
“Good morning, Ser Aymeric,” Firmalbert replied cheerfully. Through the other man’s visor, Aymeric could see when the knight glanced away to resume his watch—and also when he blinked in surprise, and looked down.
Hello, Ser Firmalbert!
The old knight’s shoulders shook once in the familiar manner of someone valiantly suppressing laughter. “Hello, Miss Amandina, Miss Roksana,” he said, bowing courteously to them as they passed.
Aymeric chuckled as he pushed open the rightmost door into the Congregation, and held it open long enough for the girls to file in after himself. He relaxed minutely once he had closed the door and stepped further inside: no matter how many layers were between himself and the cold, the Congregation was always kept warm enough for it to be cozy inside, and thus was a welcome relief even after a short walk from home to the Athenaeum aetheryte. The main hall was already a hive of activity, with knights scurrying to and from offices and barracks and training salles in the upper and lower levels, and returning or departing for patrols throughout the city or Coerthas.
His arrival, of course, garnered attention as he strode for the lift that would take him to his office; salutes, greetings, jaunty waves from older knights who had known him since he was a green squire and had enough seniority that a bit of overfamiliar insubordination was a matter that all present would turn a blind eye to. He nodded and smiled as ever, and flat out grinned when the gazes of his Temple Knights inevitably slid away and down to the carbunclets neatly following behind him in a line; black pearl Amandina with her pretty purple iridescence and white pearl Roksana and her beautiful blue sheen. There were more than a few rueful head shakes (more senior knights and staff) or gasps of delight (new recruits) in their wake, and the girls were the exemplars of fine little ladies, greeting everyone by name as they passed.
The lift ride was short and uneventful, and his office unlocked without incident, which meant he wasn’t in immediate danger of being bodily thrown out of the city by either Lucia or Norlaise for overwork. He settled at his desk, taking a moment to enjoy the new chair he had shamelessly requisitioned upon the realization there was room in the Temple Knight budget for it—sturdy arms and buttery soft leather seat and enough room to properly slouch if he so desired—and watched the twins neatly leap onto the ironwood desktop and crawl into the pillowed wicker basket he had placed there for their use. Once they had made themselves comfortable, he retrieved one of the books they had requested he bring for them today (a Nanette Dracht mystery, one of their first forays into chaptered fiction, though they still adored picture books and less complex children’s books), opening it to the first page and propping it in the basket so it was easily viewable by them both.
“All right?”
Perfect, Papa! Roksana peeped.
Thank you! Amandina said, wiggling her ears.
Aymeric smiled and gently pet them, Roksana and then Amandina, as the girls squeakily purred.
It was then that a knock came at the door, and all three looked up.
“Enter!” he called out.
Inside stepped Lucia, followed by Handeloup with a tray containing a pot of tea, thick-walled mug, a small jar of birch syrup, a carafe of juice, two swallow dishes, and a plate piled high with breakfast pastries both sweet and savory. The girls cheered, tumbling out of their basket to scramble to the edge of the desk and bounce up and down excitedly.
Hi, Aunt Lucia! Hi Uncle ‘Loup! Hi hi hi hi hi hi hi hi hiiiiiiiii!
His First and Second Commanders smiled at the pair of pearl carbunclets as Aymeric smothered a laugh behind his hand. Lucia’s was especially wide, and she held out her hands as she approached them. “Hello, little ones,” she cooed. Once she was close enough, she crouched down so she was eye level with them and gathered them up into her arms. “How are you this morning?”
Good! said Amandina, headbutting her chin.
How’re YOU? Roksana chittered, snuggling close.
“I’m doing quite well, thank you, especially since I’ve now had the chance to hug you two!”
Aymeric and Handeloup exchanged a look as the latter set the tray down on the end of the desk, and then both quickly looked away, casting their eyes towards the ceiling. If they even hinted at a tease of their friend for how quickly she turned to putty in the twins’ paws, she would chase them around one of the salles and beat them black and blue with the flat of her sword. And then she would sweetly suggest a joint training session with the Watch, and set Hilda on them, and his Synnove and Handeloup’s Odeve would have no pity for them.
Lucia, meanwhile, having gotten the cuddles due to her as honorary auntie, had set the carbunclets back on the desk. Amandina and Roksana almost immediately sat down, tiny chests puffed out and tails held up in pretty arches as they straightened their posture.
Notice anything different about us? they chimed.
His First Commander cocked her head, but quickly flashed them a smile. “Well, it can’t be your ears,” she said, reaching out to stroke the extremities in question. The girls purred. “Or your tails, they’re all still perfect!”
“And certainly you’re still just as pretty as ever,” Handeloup drawled with a grin. He absolutely knew how to flatter a daughter.
As Handeloup spoke and the carbunclets were temporarily distracted by him, Lucia glanced up at Aymeric, quirking an eyebrow.
Aymeric grinned and quickly flashed three of the Temple Knights’ hand signals: Synnove, magic, inside. It was the closest he could get to an off-the-cuff explanation that Synnove had recently given their pearl foci a fresh infusion of aether. The twins had practically vibrated right out of their shaping arrays after the session, they had been so excited.
“Hmmmm,” Lucia said exaggeratedly, placing a finger on her chin thoughtfully, “could it be you’re a little bit more magical?”
Ooooh, hummed Amandina.
Close! said Roksana.
And then, in chorus: We’re BIGGER! To emphasize the statement, they puffed their chests out even further, unmistakably posing.
Lucia widened her eyes. “Oh, my goodness, so you are.”
Handeloup, not in view of the girls, had slapped a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking. He was profoundly lucky that he was in more casual leathers than full formal plate today; otherwise, there would have been no hiding his amusement.
Aymeric made another two hand signs (height, shoulder) and then held up his hand, forefinger and thumb a half-ilm apart.
Handeloup’s face contorted in an effort to stay silent, and he moved his hand so he could bite down on the meat of his thumb. Lucia flickered her eyes towards him and, Fury bless her Frumentarium heart, kept her face from twitching out of the expression of doting wonder as she said to the girls, “A whole half-ilm taller, by the looks of it!”
The twins gasped in delight.
She’s so good at this, the white pearl carbunclet whispered—too loudly, too excited—to her sister.
I told you she’d notice! the black pearl carbunclet said in the same tone with a wise nod.
Now Aymeric had to clap his hands over his mouth to keep from bursting into giggles and giving it all away. Handeloup was beginning to turn a fascinating shade of purple-red. And Lucia’s smile ilmed over into a smug, self-satisfied smirk at retaking the lead in the competition she and Synnove’s sisters had for being the favorite auntie.
Later, after Lucia managed to drag Handeloup out of the office before he asphyxiated—the girls had twitched in surprise at the explosive, wheezing cackle that had echoed down the hallway from the lift, looking around in befuddlement—and breakfast was consumed, and the girls had read an entire book (carefully pawing the pages to turn them, tiny tongues sticking out in concentration) and settled down for a nap before lunch, his linkpearl, the personal one, chimed softly. Aymeric smiled and set down his report, leaning back in his chair and lifting his hand to his ear. The call was coming a little sooner than he had anticipated, but that simply made it all the better.
“Hello, my lady,” he said softly, so as not to disturb the sleeping carbunclets. “How goes the conference?”
“Hello, my lord.” Synnove’s cheerful voice came through clear as a bell; she must have retreated to her office, that overlooked Mealvaan’s Gate and most of Limsa Lominsa, for the time being. “I’ve refrained from strangling anyone, but we’ve only just finished the keynote and begun the first panels, so there’s still time!”
He laughed softly. “Perhaps this can be the conference that you refrain from raising poor Thubyrgeim’s blood pressure.”
“I will make no promises. How are my girls doing?”
“Quite well,” he said, glancing over at them. Roksana was gently chewing on Amandina’s ear in her sleep; Amandina’s back leg twitched with every third nibble. “And currently asleep; I’ll take them to the mess hall for lunch so they can properly show off for everyone.”
Synnove’s answering laugh was sweet and husky. “Thank you again for indulging them. I knew they wouldn’t get quite the attention they wanted here with everyone so focused on—” He heard a distant knock on her end of the line. “Oh, hells. One moment, Aymeric.”
“Of course.”
The line briefly went quiet, and when Synnove returned, it crackled with the force of her sigh. “Seven fucking hells, we’ve got a new record: first blood drawn at a half-bell past the end of the opening keynote.”
“Do I want to know?”
“All I’ll say for now is that it involves a protractor and the rest of the explanation will require alcohol at the ready.”
Aymeric chuckled. “Then I’ll see you at dinner tonight.”
“See you at dinner! I love you.”
“I love you, too, Synnove.”
The line closed and Aymeric let out a quiet sight as he dropped his hand to fold both of them in his lap, a rueful grin on his lips. For all he complained about his dual responsibilities as Lord Commander and Lord Speaker, at least he didn’t have to manage arcanists. Give him squabbling lords over insane academics any day.
He leaned forward and picked up his quill. The sooner he finished reviewing these reports, the sooner he could take the girls to lunch; the sooner he could take the girls to lunch, the more quickly the day would pass. And the more quickly the day would pass, the sooner he would be able to see Synnove.
He smiled, and got back to work.