oh this is. yeah this is peak #emistinien especially #wysau aaaaaaa

"You once said I most of all am the one you must guard your tongue with," Emi said, clutching the sweater tighter around her as a breeze cut between them. "I asked you if I may know why. You said no, which frankly tracks for someone who had just said he can't speak openly with me." She stared up into the familiar gray eyes, firm and unyielding. "The thing is, the longer you do this, the longer you push me away, push Aymeric and Haurchefant away, the worse it gets." The air stilled and she took a step closer. "You think you're protecting us, protecting me. You're -- You're terrified of being rash. Of saying something you can't take back," her voice wavered. She knew she was crossing the line he had drawn. There would be no going back from this; the bridge was burning with them on it and she was the one that had dropped the match at their feet. Her brows narrowed and her eyes locked his in a challenge. "So you've left me with no choice. I have to be the one to do it. If I'm risking losing you either way, either in a slow long painful self-destructive spiral, or by backing you into a corner and speaking all of the things I've held in so long it's destroying *me* too, then I..." Another step forward. They were half a fulm apart now, the light breeze dancing around them instead. Coercing them together. Her hands dropped from her cardigan, no longer needed as she was greeted by his warmth. "I choose this. Because I can no longer stand back and pretend, no longer dance around on eggshells to keep you from leaping away like a terrified coeurl the moment things become too real." This time, when she moved forward, the tips of their boots collided. Any space left between them now was arbitrary. She felt the air tense around him, the first sign that she had gone too far. There was no time left, she had to move now.

Emi's hand reached out and found his. "Let me carry this with you, Estinien. If you don't, you will lose me forever. I can no longer watch as you plummet to the ground in a tailspin. I won't do it. I am willing to follow you down into whatever darkness you crash into, but I know it won't help either of us, if you're already this defensive." His hand tightened in hers, but he didn't pull away. She reached across with her free hand, pulling his up with both of hers and removing the glove. He tensed, and she held stronger, as if to reassure him that it was what she wanted. She leaned forward, turning his hand over in hers. Tracing the lines of his palm, she memorized the scars, working up the final bit of courage she needed. And then she brought her lips down and kissed the biggest scar that ran the length of his hand. It was searing, and she could feel every fiber of him beneath her warring between the instinct to pull away - the fear that had taken root - and the small part of him that eased, that reached for her. That wanted to stay. "You see me," came his voice at last. Rough, strained, and barely audible, but there. Emi lifted her head and tilted, her eyes wide in confusion. She opened her mouth to ask what he meant, but froze when she saw how *unguarded* his face had become. Fear and longing mixed in one harmonious expression borne of something she couldn't name. He repeated himself when he saw the question writ on her face. "You see me."

Fully upright again, she stared into his eyes, willing the Echo or *anything* to let her in. So focused she was that she was startled when suddenly the flames licked at her face as his hand held her. Somewhere distant, she felt the same warmth on her shoulder, then trailing to her upper arm where his other hand came to rest. "When you asked me before," Estinien started again, voice still edged with roughness but more certain now. "If you may know why I cannot speak or act freely around you. The reason I said no." He closed his eyes, finding strength as he inhaled. "Tis because you see me. In a way I've not been seen since Aymeric, mayhap even ever. Past the fear, the grief, the scars of mistakes past and mistakes not yet made." The hand at her cheek moved, pushing the loose hair threatening her eyes out of her face. "You are what I cannot suffer to harm, to lose, lest I lose the one person with which I feel any manner of peace. Tis why I take great pains around you." One of Emi's hands rose to meet his, to cover the one holding her hair in place. "I... I didn't know," she whispered. "Twas by design. I did not want you to. You carry enough." Trying not to smile, she leaned forward and pressed her head into the midpoint of his chest. She felt his hands slide from the side of her head to the back, from her arm to her shoulders. Holding her in, despite everything. Her own hands snaked around his waist and clung tight to his tunic. "*Bakayaro*," she whispered into him, closing her eyes and easing into the warmth, the flames which did not burn her.

007 • burn down my house

ficlet from a shared au, might post this on ao3 one day might not (bc i will feel the need to over explain what is going on) anyway cheers have some self indulgent fluff from a very angst-heavy au

#ffxiv #ffxivwriters #wolstinien #emistinien #wysau

The waning sun made the foyer glow with all the warmth golden hour could provide, shimmering across the gold accented walls through the large panel windows. It reminded Emi of her time living here during the war; when on sunny summer evenings she, Tataru, and Alphinaud would have their pre-dinner hot chocolate in the gazebo next to the manor. Sometimes Haurchefant would join them, his laughter ringing out through the crisp air and down to the walkway below. Whenever she allowed herself to belly laugh, her own snorts and giggles would carry in harmony with her icy-haired friend's. Ser Zephirin must have hated their laughter, must have wished it to end forever. It very nearly did; Emi certainly hadn't laughed the same since. She carefully slipped her flats off and went digging through the closet for the old slippers she had left here. It had become habit to leave a pair of slippers in every abode she considered a home; currently the count was up to five. Her oldest pair resided in her childhood home of Shiokaze Hostelry, though they were from her early twenties pre-adventuring days. These fluffy pair were her second ones, gifted by Tataru their first Starlight in Ishgard. She had intended to bring them with her once she moved out into her own place after...the incident, but both Edmont and Artoirel insisted that she was like a daughter and a sister to them respectfully. So she left them behind. That left her apartment in the Crozier, her suite in Meghaduta, and the Leveilleur Estate - all much newer slippers (and nicer ones, as funds had improved during her journeys). The doorman had given her entry but was as perplexed as she was to the fact that the house was quieter than usual. He knew Haurchefant was home, but assumed he must be resting. He did that a lot these days, Emi noticed. Her heart weighed heavy at the thought as she shuffled forward towards the North wing of Fortemps Manor.

It had been roughly a few years, but it seemed the guilt she carried in these halls was as heavy and profound as the first few days. Every time the scent of medicinal herbs and concoctions hit her, a new wave of remorse would wash over her. She wasn't sure how Estinien could tolerate it, given his heightened senses; surely the scents were so engulfing as to give him continual headaches. Mayhap that was why he was always so surly while keeping watch. *"It should've been me! You sweet, foolish man...it should've...been me..."* The words she had wailed over Haurchefant's comatose body had become a mantra, a burden she never truly learned how to carry properly or let go of. It was a weight that didn't drag her down but *anchored* her, frozen in time at the Vault. Sure, she had gone on with her life, seen new horizons and distant worlds. But this place was frozen in time and she with it. As Emi raised her hand to knock on the suite's door, she heard murmuring from within. Haurchefant's personal doctor, from the sound of it. A sliver of light washed the left side of the frame, and she realized the heavy oak door had been mistakenly left slightly ajar. She turned to walk away - this was none of her business, after all. But then she heard Haurchefant speak, and she froze. "Surely one day I will be able to do basic drills again, at least?" Emi stifled her breath with her hand, both to hear better and to not give herself away. She knew she shouldn't eavesdrop, and she felt terrible about it, but she was pulled towards the ordeal all the same. "Afraid not," the doctor replied. "You'd be right blessed by Halone indeed if you were even able to walk at length without assistance in the future. Mine apologies, good ser," he continued regretfully. "As you're aware, the nerve damage is unfortunately extensive." She risked the tiniest peek through the sliver and saw her friend crestfallen, leaning against the cane he had been using after waking up.

"I see..." Haurchefant said. "I still wish to return to Dragonhead, to run it proper, even if I am no longer able to be involved in the more physically demanding aspects and must sit behind my desk like a spoiled lordling." Emi's heart leapt into her throat and got stuck there when she heard the third voice enter the fray - she would recognize that scathing chuckle anywhere. "Doubtful anyone should ever confuse you for that lout," Estinien mocked. She hadn't seen him through the opening, but it made sense for him to be present - he was the one who kept vigil over Haurchefant the most in the years prior. "I must press upon how crucial it is you get ample rest," the doctor rebutted. "From what I have heard, Ser Emmanellain has ran the camp well in your stead; pray do consider turning over the reins officially to him. The issue of rest aside, the terrain and fauna are quite hostile for one in your condition." The silence that followed was agonizing. Haurchefant finally broke it with a cracked "Very well." Emi could listen no longer, for the guilt had gone from emotional weight to physical pain. Blinking back warm tears, she stepped slowly away from the door. *It's all my fault, it's all my fault, if I had never ran after Thordan--* She nearly tripped over one of the staff that had shown up to deliver Haurchefant towels for his post physical therapy bath. Thankfully, her hand was still over her mouth so when she yelled it was muffled, though that did nothing for the surprise of the maid who cried out in reflex. Emi offered the quickest apology she could while catching the rags and towels, shoving them haphazardly back into the arms of the woman before bolting down the corridor. All she could do was pray that she wasn't recognized, that it wasn't known how long she had been standing there listening to her best friend be told he could never be the man he once was ever again.

002 • after laughter

1031 words; while you slept au [post-endwalker before 6.1];
#ffxiv #wysau #haurchefant #emirin