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Estinien woke from slumber to the song of crickets and his dim room, yet untouched by the morn’s light. He grumbled, tossing and turning on his bed. His mind longed for more rest, yet his body was wide awake. At least the nightmares that plagued him so had not roused him, not this time. Begrudgingly, he tossed his flimsy sheet aside and sat up. A glance at the window confirmed that dawn was still a few bells away. Estinien ran a hand through his bedhead, padding towards the chair he had haphazardly flung his clothes onto the evening prior. Trading his nightclothes for the airy fabrics suited for Radz-at-Han’s stifling climate, he leapt out the window, hoping some fresh air would do him well.
The rich colours lining the streets he had grown so accustomed to over the past few moons felt tranquil, muted even, bathed in naught but Menphina’s gentle sheen. He trod along the smooth-tiled rooftops, the architecture perfect for scaling. Child’s play for any respectable dragoon. Charming as the constant buzz of Vrtra’s beloved city was, Estinien enjoyed the uncanny silence of the early hours, if not more, depending on his mood. He took a deep breath; the air filling his lungs laced with spices, persisting even without the fragrant market stalls scattered throughout the maze-like roads. A gentle breeze rustled his hair as he reached the higher buildings.
A vague silhouette halted his ascension.
Curved horns and a scaled tail caught his eye. A female au ra, considering the petite figure, crossed legs dangling off of the roof. With naught but soft moonlight to illuminate her, Estinien could not make out any distinct details other than the colour of her scales. A deep blue, almost soot, unlike the pearlescent shade of the locals. Her elegant poise felt familiar, achingly so. Odd. He surged across the rooftops, not bothering to hide his advance, nor make himself known. Upon closer inspection, his speculation proved correct. The Warrior of Light was indeed resting on the roof of the Meghaduta. Her armour was foreign. An unfamiliar weapon lay at her side. Even her jet black hair had lost most of its length, yet he would recognise her anywhere. Alkali had not noticed his presence, her attention stolen by the unending sea of stars above.
“This is not exactly the time and place I would have imagined us meeting again, not that I’m complaining. ‘Tis good to see you, my friend.”
She startled, scrambling away with wide eyes. Recognition hit her soon enough as the abrupt tension in her body ebbed away.“Estinien”, she sighed, a slight change in her eyes showing a fondness her perpetually stoic expression hid.
He had learned to read the tiny ques she let slip throughout the years, being even more stone-faced than he was. Alphinaud had told them their combined blank stare and crushing glare had left many a person shaking in their boots on their adventures, to their mutual amusement.
He seated himself next to her, close enough for the glow of her golden eyes to bathe his face in a gentle shine, yet not enough to crowd her. A small smile graced his lips. “So, what brings you here? Any grand ventures that require your skills?” he asked, watching as her eyelid twitched slightly. Her reply was soft, laced with emotions Estinien could not place. “No. I’m afraid not. 'Tis nothing grand, really.”
Her expression seems tense. The muscles in her neck strained slightly, her brow set in a tiny frown as if she wore a mask of indifference instead of her naturally blank resting face. Her eyes drifted, unfocused, as if she engaged in an internal struggle, unsure if she wanted to speak. Her tail thumped against the tiles. Ever the thinker, she picked her words carefully, facing him once more.
“I am in mourning… for my beloved.”, Alkali confessed. Her tongue swept over her lips, as if those last words had evaporated all the moisture in her mouth.
Estinien blinked, once, twice. Out of all the possibilities he could conjure up, a deceased love would have been the last thing on his list. Every Scion knew of Alkali's blatant disinterest in romance. Over the years she had either shot down or not noticed the affections of many suitors, men and women alike. As far as Estinien was aware, she preferred platonic company, if not solitude. To think she had someone the whole time, only to lose them. Fate had dealt her a cruel hand. “I didn't know you had a lover, my condolences.”
“I did not either, until he passed.” She entwined her fingers on her lap, gazing up at the sky once more. “Well, ‘ lover ’ is an overstatement. I did not know that I loved him until I saw him take his last breath.”
Flashes of crimson snow, black curls matted with blood and empty azure eyes enter his mind's eye. He shuddered at the thought. Estinien put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. “Did he know?” he asked, watching her graceful posture slump. “No.”
“Alkali…” He tried to think of something, anything to say, yet his mind blanked. During the Dragonsong war, when young soldiers were sent back to their families in wooden boxes, he knew not how to comfort their weeping relatives. Mothers sunken to their knees, wailing into their hands. Siblings whose blood swiftly left their pained faces, turning sickly white, all met with silence. Estinien's tongue was tied in knots, unsure if his words would soothe her aches or stoke the fire. He prayed that his awkward pat on the shoulder made her feel even a smidge better.
“...I can lend you an ear, if you wish.”, he suggested after a few moments of silence.
Mimicking Alkali’s words of moons prior, back when the Final Days still loomed over the star. To escape from the twins’ constant bickering, he had fled to the warrior’s room, hoping to find some silent company. A quick chat turned into a quarter bell, then half, then three. In the blink of an eye, midnight passed, their conversation fizzling out into a familiar, comforting silence. Her gaze fell on his sleeve, pushed up slightly higher than he had intended. An open-ended offer, to listen to his troubles. They both knew Estinien could jump out the window right there and then, her words forgotten by morn, yet he did not.
Swallowing down his pride, he spoke of his nightmares. Of flames scorching his throat, his body breaking and reforming, again and again. How his legs screamed in agony, jumping higher, further, by another’s command. He spoke of the Wyrm, ever present in his mind. Nidhogg’s vengeful blaze was but an ember of what it used to be. He commented on occasion, though kept to himself more often than not. Nevertheless, the Wyrm was there, watching. Try as he might, Estinien couldn’t keep ignoring the elephant in the room. Scales, black as coal, peeking out from under his sleeves. With great reluctance, he rolled them up further, presenting his upper arms. A physical manifestation of his failure, for letting the Eyes seep into his very being. Etched into his thighs and arms, scattered across his shoulder blades. When his jumps reached their highest peak, he felt as if boney wings still carried him through the air, sprouting from his back. Not even his mouth could escape the Wyrm's influence. Unsightly sharp teeth and a lengthy forked tongue lay hidden, away from the judgement he would surely receive. He couldn't help but fidget under her heavy gaze. Focused, as if studying a rare beast. Fear clogged his throat at a click of her tongue, followed by a sigh.
"Estinien, are my teeth monstrous?"
"No."
"Are my scales vile? Off-putting?"
"Fury, no!"
"Then why would yours be?"
Flabbergasted, Estinien opened his mouth in reply, before swiftly shutting it with an audible click of his teeth. "I'm more offended by the state of them. Look at how dry they are! Honestly, you should have come to me for help moons ago." A soft laugh left his lips, knowing not what else to do. Her absurdly simple statement left him nailed to the floorboards, anxiety ebbing away as her words sunk in. Overnight, the weight of a Wyrm was lifted off of his shoulders.
He may not be the most eloquent with words–Aymeric and Alphinaud were more suited to flowery conversation–but returning the favour by listening to his friend's woes was doable, even for him.
Alkali let out a shaky, humourless laugh as she gazed at the empty streets below. “You would despise me if you knew his name.”
‘Then do not speak it’, he huffed, shoulders rising in a shrug. Owlish eyes met his own, seeking answers to questions left unasked. Her restless tail stilled, curling in her lap as she took a deep breath.
“He died a warrior’s death not long after the Final Days. I attempted to save him, but my aether had stilled and my body betrayed me. I could not even summon Eos or Selene, let alone Rescue him to safety.” Alkali avoided his gaze, opting to stare at her tail, tracing the scales with gloved fingertips. “I have theorised, nay, longed for a past where he lived, where we both lived , yet once my desires settle and I am left with naught but the facts…” Estinien didn’t miss how her hands tensed, nor the fleeting flicker of gold eyes on him. “I doubt he would have survived, by the severity of his wounds or another’s blade.”
“Had a lot of enemies, did he?”
“More than you and I combined.”
Her armour hit the roof as she flopped back, her greaves clinking against tile, all of her usual grace thrown to the wind. “... He would not have reciprocated. ‘Twas not love he sought from me.” she said, more to herself than to Estinien, a harsh reality she had locked away and denied, now solidified in speech.
He did not waste his breath on what-ifs and maybes, wordlessly laying back instead. Naïve optimism will not bring back the man she pined for. He wondered what she saw in the endless fields of stars above, holding her attention as a dancer would an audience.
He could not help a curious enquiry. “What did he seek?” Glowing eyes met his own, a gentle smile forming on her lips. “To connect,” she said, “He wished to connect.” He raised an eyebrow. “That, we shared, the need for that feeling only the other could deliver. To him, I was his foil, his mirror. He made my blood boil and sing in equal measure, pushed me further than anyone else dared.” Her eyes wandered, dazed, to the stars once more, before fluttering to a close.
“I dare not utter aloud what I would give to sense the rise and fall of his chest, to touch his neck and feel his pulse beneath my fingertips.” She utters, her pronunciation delicate as if savouring the image she had created within her mind, fearful of shattering it.
He thought of the evenings they had spent back to back, tending to their weapons in pleasant silence. Her gentle warmth served as a reminder of her companionship, her care. Brushing the twins' hair, a hand on Urianger's back, diligently tending to Thancred's wounds, lending G'raha a shoulder to sleep on, a tap on Y'shtola's hand… Or, sitting back to back whilst wordlessly performing weapon maintenance. Alkali’s hands traced empty air, lost in a life she could not have until her eyes snapped open with a soft gasp.
A breathy laugh escaped her lips. “I am a fool, Estinien. A complete and utter fool.”
“Eorzea’s champion, stripped of use and purpose, waxing poetic about a corpse.” Estinien let her words sink in before sitting up, brows knit together. “ Use? Just because the star is largely at peace does not mean you aren’t needed. You are no mere weapon of war.” Alkali rose as well.
“You speak as if I have been called upon during the past few moons.” She rebuts, a flash of hurt plain on her fair features. Realisation dawned upon him after a few beats of silent staring. Alkali had been bedridden for three weeks after their return from Ultima Thule. By the time she was reasonably healthy and mobile, the Scions had decided to disband, welcoming her back to the mostly empty Rising Stones. They had discussed it with her, surely, yet she had not the time nor energy to process all that had happened before everyone went their separate ways.
They had been so focused on giving her a chance to rest that nobody had considered the whiplash she might receive. For years she had been at Eorzea’s beck and call, winning war after war by the Alliance’s command. Peace may have gifted her freedom, but it tore away her sense of self.
Alkali interrupted his reply before it got the chance to leave his mouth. “You and I are loners both. I would not have expected you to ask me along. I do not blame you. Or the others, for that matter” She dismissed, though he was certain it has affected her more than she is willing to let on.
“Do not give me that look, Estinien. ‘Tis not as if I have been moping around aimlessly without the guidance of orders” Alkali said with crossed arms, her back straightened. “I’ll have you know, the lack of major threats has allowed me to pursue my own goals”. Her faultless poise and haughty tone could pass her off as any Ishgardian lordling, Estinien thought to himself, though a swift twitch of her tail ratted out her flimsy fib.
"And of what, pray tell, do these goals of yours comprise?"
"To discover with which tribe of the Steppe my origins lie." A smug smile tugged at her lips, clearly pleased with her retort. "I have broken bread with a multitude of tribes, studying their cultures and beliefs and comparing them to what little information my parents gave me.” She smoothed out the creases of her sleeves before continuing. “I highly doubt the mute, yet peaceful nature of the Qestir would scare them off, as would the harems of the Bayaqud. Mayhap the Mol? Nay, their beliefs are harmless… My parents had left long before Magnai took to the Dawn Throne–Twelve, before he was born –though I stand by anyone who wishes to flee from that oaf of a leader . Further research is required, but I have reason to believe I may hail from the Dotharl."
Estinien hummed, attempting to recall the warriors of the Steppe who had joined the Ilsabard Contingent. He vaguely remembered a shouting match between a white-haired woman and a ridiculously tall man, though he couldn’t put a name to their faces if he tried. “I could see my parents’ preference for neutrality clash with the brutal nature of Dotharli warriors and beliefs.” The tip of her tail wagged, occasionally hitting Estinien’s leg. “I, however, find them… beautiful . You see, their people do not die. Nay, they reincarnate, again, and again, and again. An endless cycle of rebirth.” She chewed on her lip, picking her words with care. “...I cannot help but wonder… If their tales are true, mayhap I could…see him again.”
Before Estinien got the chance to wrap his head around all he had heard, Alkali abruptly shot up, a string of frantic excuses on her lips. “– Well, I feel like that’s enough sob stories for today. We both could use some rest after all that” He’s caught off-guard as she pulled him to a stand, silently thanking his dragoon training for regaining his balance.
He doubted he’d get much sleep after all he’d heard, but if she didn’t wish to speak, then he wouldn’t push her further. “Off to an inn with you,” he said, ruffling her bangs as he had done so many times before. A lack of her usual huff or roll of the eyes made him stop, her body stiff. “Alkali..?” Shivers ran through the palm of his hand. Still no answer. Trembling .
“Can I sleep with you tonight?”
“ What..? ”
“What?”
Dumbfounded, Estinien blinked as if he had just seen the Fury herself run past on a giant chocobo. He attempted a reply–his ears cherry red– yet all he could do was sputter incoherent sounds. Alkali, on the other hand, observed him as one would a drunken knight’s antics, the halfway point between confusion and pity. “I’m sorry, Alkali, you’re a dear friend to me but you’re not in the right state of might to make these…these impulsive decisions a-and even if you were I’m not attracted to you in that way –”
Slowly but surely, realisation dawned on her, eyebrows raised to her hairline. “Sleep, Estinien, sleep! No copulation! I only wish to share a bed with you, nothing more,” she exclaimed, hands in front of her as to soothe a cornered animal.
Ah .
Right.
Mayhap on the morrow he could wallow in shame on a lonely rooftop for misunderstanding. Now, however, he had a distressed friend to comfort. “That is–yes,” he coughs, “of course.” Weapons in hand, they traversed Radz-at-Han’s skyline with ease, rooftop to rooftop. Though Alkali preferred her codex to her lance, as a dragoon, she was nothing to scoff at. Movement so elegant, it would make the Ishgardian ladies of the high houses green with envy. Her footwork was precise, yet not as quiet as Estinien’s own. Her distaste for stealth has persisted since they met, opting to put foes asleep if necessary. The metal soles of her greaves tapped against colourful tiles with each step. Hopefully, the neighbours won’t wake.
Soon enough, the window he used as a door more often than not came into view. He nodded towards it, receiving a modest bow in return. Once inside, he found himself awkwardly turned towards the wall, giving her a sliver of privacy. She took her time undressing, so much so that he wondered how many layers she wore, wandering about in Ilsabard’s most humid city . Surely she must have been cooked alive in all that armour, much like he did when he first arrived. After the rustling of fabric and metal dimmed, a soft grunt of permission made him turn around.
Stripped down to her undershirt and leggings, Alkali sat on the edge of the bed, hand extended in invitation. He noted the neat pile of folded clothing and carefully placed armour on his otherwise empty desk. Boots set aside, he settled down beside her, limbs stiff and unsure. Vrtra had gifted him a luxurious room, far too spacious and decorated to his liking. Yet a gift was a gift, and this particular gift came with a bed fit for a king. They could easily share it without having to touch each other at all, but was that what she wanted? Would she stick to one side or want comfort directly? He hadn’t shared a bed, or, well, bedroll with anyone since his days as a Temple Knight, huddling together for warmth in the biting cold of Coerthan winter. His answer promptly stuck herself to his side, forgoing the bedsheet altogether in favour of being blanketed by the Hannish clime. She shifted a bit, nuzzling against his shoulder, careful not to scratch with her horns. Reluctantly, Estinien smoothed his hands over her back, letting out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.
“Comfortable?”
“Hm.”
Pleased and warm, Alkali coiled her tail around his wrist, much like Orn Khai had done during their travels through the East. Curled up at his side, her auri traits made her seem more dragonet than human. He wouldn’t be surprised if she started trilling. Long forgotten was the bliss of company to welcome rest with, yet he took to it as if they had done so every night prior. The steady drum of her heartbeat made drowsiness tug at his mind, finding her presence comforting. Soft puffs of breath warmed his skin like a cup of tea after a chilly patrol, soothing, urging him to sleep.
“Alkali?”
“Hm?”
“I hope he finds rest between the stars.”
Silence. A shuttering breath. Subdued, uneven hics .
Trembling fingers tightened in his shirt, shoulders twitching. Pulling her closer, he rubbed small circles into her back, attempting to ease the tension strung within her. He held her to his chest. Protective. Reassuring. They fell asleep to the sound of crickets in the distance, a damp spot on Estinien’s shirt where her head rested.