#wyrmelliferel

[efrmellifer]

and my yearly Wyrmelliferel gpose birthday gift to myself

[ladyborel]

Writing Event Masterlist Directory

Wondrous Tails

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Masterlist (2020)

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Wolmeric Week

Masterlist (May 2021)

Wolstinien Week/Seven Days of Estinyan

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Wyrmelliferel Week

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[dearly-beeloved]

📝+👀 for the self insert ask? i’m pretty interested to see which s/i you’ve thought about the most!! ٩(⁎^▿^⁎)۶

(also yes this is a wild card lmao, you can choose whichever s/i you want :p) 〜ablizmal

@ablizmal oh that's gotta be Etien XD

📝: How would your story in canon go? How would you influence the events of the original story?

ON THE OTHER HAND, the problem with Etien for this is that she's a FFXIV WoL, so she is already "canon" in some ways, such as the story IS her story, barring the backstory and interstitials I made up

BUT. I will look at this as "if she were an NPC, but the story of her relationships still played out mostly the same way as it does"--doable, but difficult. it all has to get going right after the Bloody Banquet when Yugiri was in Ishgard XD

ANYWAY. if Etien were an NPC. let's say she has a sidequest about her.

it would immediately be Weird(TM) that there's a Miqo'te at Camp Dragonhead, because Ishgard is 90% Elezen and 10% Hyur. Why is there a catgirl here? So as you talk to her, you find out that she was a runaway from Alder Springs in the Black Shroud, and Haurchefant gave her shelter and has since been training her as a longbow knight, to ensure she's one of them and gets food and a bed. She's a good bard, though, so she also entertains the camp at night, too. As her quests progress, you find out that since she arrived at Camp Dragonhead, she's taken a liking to the Lord Commander, and is curious about the Azure Dragoon. but there's ALSO this very pretty and good-hearted Auri woman who fled here recently, and Etien's head is now all ajumble because Everyone Is Pretty, Halone Help Me

by the end of the quests, you've gotten her a boyfriend (Aymeric), a man who in a few years will be a boyfriend she'll share with Aymeric (Estinien), a penpal she's gonna date long-distance (Yugiri), and a very respectable position as the best longbow-woman in all of Ishgard

(this will help you later in Heavensward, and then again right before Shadowbringers, when the polycule is all together again briefly. though Yugiri and Etien are both unconscious. but if you don't do these quests, you just don't know who the catgirl in Ishgardian clothes is, nbd).

good job! you get the title "Miqo Matchmaker"

👀: How does your ship with your f/o influence both of your characterisations and the world? Would there be any interesting metas written about your dynamic?

in this "Etien is an NPC" story, her gratitude to Haurchefant and love for Aymeric is what ties her to Ishgard, more than anything. They made her the best she could be and made a place and a home for her. So she returns this favor by viciously defending the people who are her home.

I think there could be some interesting metas written about it, yeah! definitely some thoughts on "finding one's place" being something that literally the entire polycule and Haurchefant have had to do, how Haurchefant, in charge of Camp Dragonhead, repays Ishgard and House Fortemps by creating/being responsible for one of Ishgard's more fervent champions, and how he thanks his father for his faith in Haurchefant by having faith in Etien (even in this AU he's her big brother *sniffle*)

and how Aymeric opening his heart to a foreigner is how the whole country opens up! (that was true in regular canon too though)

[efrmellifer]

took some glamor shots of Etien for her 29th nameday~

[efrmellifer]

[efrmellifer]

"Surely they'll let you take a little time away to spend with us for Valentione's?" Etien asked.

"When did you two get here? Where are your children?"

"We arrived this morning by airship," Aymeric replied easily, "and Vrtra has Betula and Landric. He likes when they visit. You ought to take breaks, Estinien. Weren't you just telling me the same thing?"

Estinien sighed, feeling Aymeric's hand slip over Etien's where it rested on his back. "Aye. And I should. Nabhdeen! I will return, uh... this evening. These two came to visit."

Nabhdeen nodded, and as Estinien turned to leave the training grounds at the Hamsa Hatchery, the Radiant Host members training there waved. "Have fun on your date!"

[efrmellifer]

A Starlight Evening

Things have been busy, but there's always time to enjoy a holiday with loved ones, even if only for a moment c:

Etien sighed, sitting down beside Aymeric. "Is Estinien already in bed?"

"I'm not sure," Aymeric replied. "I have not seen him in a little while, so he may in fact be asleep."

Etien laughed softly. "Well, then I can give him his present later. But here is yours." She handed him a bundle, tied together with a blue satin ribbon. He pulled the ribbon's tail to undo the knot, and the bundle opened up into a mass of soft, thick yarn in his hands.

He was silent, staring at it. Eventually, Etien piped up. "I know you already have your gloves you wear daily, but I thought that on days you weren't in all the regalia, maybe on walks, you might like new gloves."

"Ah," he murmured, their shape suddenly becoming clear to him. "These are lovely, such soft wool. Is it from the karakul at Camp Dragonhead?"

"Supplemented with some other fibers, yes," she told him. "They've retained all the best properties of each fiber involved, warmth to softness to water-resistance." She leaned against him. "Try them on!"

Aymeric slipped a hand into the glove, flexing his fingers. Etien clicked her tongue at the fit, now that she saw them on him.

"I'm sorry they don't seem very snug. I'm out of practice on those stitches."

"I like how non-restrictive they are," he told her, kissing the top of her head. "I can always layer tighter gloves below if I really wish to."

"You can," she mumbled. "Happy Starlight, darling."

He took her hand in his non-gloved one. "Happy Starlight. Your gift is in your armoire, by the way."

Together, they rose and made their way to the bedroom, where Etien opened the doors of her armoire to find a new dress, perfect for any weather Ishgard could throw at her, in the shade of blue she had so come to love.

"I wondered what to get the woman who had yet again given me everything I could ever ask for and more, and I know a garment is a pittance in the face of that, but there is the fact that," he ran his finger along the dress's neckline, "I once again had a blood pearl charm included." The inclusion gleamed in the low light, drawing attention to more embroidery at the collar. That was a pattern she recognized...

"Aymeric, is this the pattern in the metal of your parents' rings?"

"It is indeed. Estinien has a shirt with the same pattern, though 'tis in a color more to his liking. I could not resist once again making plain how dear you are to me, in the very fabric of your clothing."

She looked up at him again and beamed. "I'll wear with such pride, they'll be chastising me for it."

[efrmellifer]

Princely Knights

hi can I interest you in a fact about French Toast but it's Aytien (/Wyrmelliferel)?

The end of a loaf of bread. Mun-tuy brew. Cinnamon. An egg. Honey to drizzle on at the end. Yes, he had everything. As Aymeric got out a bowl and the frying pan he’d need, he started thinking more about the recipe and the method of preparation.

It was simple, but good. No wonder it had been a staple in the Temple Knight kitchens for so long—on and off for as long as the order had been required and consistently as long as he had been in the Temple Knight ranks, to be certain.

And its simplicity and deliciousness were what made it the perfect thing to share.

Not with Estinien, unfortunately, who was still asleep in his room (or he had been when Aymeric had checked) and who would instead be greeted with coffee when he came out to the kitchen.

But he would with Etien. He wasn’t sure if she had ever had a dish like it before. In some ways, he was sure she must have, growing up near enough to Coerthas that recipes got adapted and bastardized for the forest. But she’d never had this version, the version he had perfected after asking for the recipe in the refectory.

But Aymeric also wanted her company in the kitchen as he cooked, so now that he had his ingredients in order, he made his way back to the bedroom.

He laughed, thinking back only a few short years to the days when they spoke of being woken with kisses as like the princess and her prince in the faerie tale, but when she lay under the covers curled so tightly, he couldn’t not think of her that way.

But she was not, strictly speaking, a princess. She was, however, a lady. His lady. So he came to a knee beside the bed, running a knuckle along her cheek, then pressing his lips to the highest point of her cheekbone. “Wake up, Etien,” he called to her softly. “I have something for you.”

She stretched with a little squeak, and curled up again, opening her eyes to meet his. “Oh? And what is it?”

“Breakfast, dearest. But it is not ready yet. Perhaps a little selfishly, I wanted to chat with you while I cooked.”

A sleepy smile pulling at the edges of her lips, she shrugged. “Be greedy with my attention all you want, gods know your colleagues abroad are. But do I need to get dressed?”

“I would not decline the offer of you sitting at the island nude,” Aymeric said with a little grin.

Etien sat up, undoing the second and third buttons of her nightgown. “And that will be all you get for now.”

“’Tis already an indulgent amount.”

She got out of bed then, laying the covers as neatly as she could, and followed him to the kitchen.

“So what is it?” she asked as she got comfortable in her chair, humming happily as Aymeric poured her a steaming cup of tea.

“A dish called ‘Poor Knights’,” he told her. “And indeed, with how inexpensive the ingredients are, and the pay knights received in some eras, it was easily consumable by poor knights. It was a celebratory dessert for us most times we ate it,” he explained, “though there were one or two times I recall eating the leftover portions for breakfast.”

He cracked the egg in, poured the mun-tuy brew into the bowl, and then shook in a liberal amount of the cinnamon. Still talking, he whisked it together, followed by pressing a slice of the bread under the milky concoction until it was soaked through. Once that was done, he transferred it to the pan, and set the pan over the flame, watching it carefully.

“I had a sudden craving for it the other day, and thought it would be better if I shared it.”

“Why not with Estinien?” Etien asked. “Or was it only given to the archery corps?”

“No, despite Estinien’s willingness to eat most things that are safe to be eaten, he has never much liked this.”

“Aw, what a shame.”

“It means there will be more for you,” Aymeric lilted, setting the first piece of bread on a plate for her, drizzling the honey over it. “Tell me what you think.”

She took the fork he handed her and cut herself a piece. “Well, it smells nice.”

He cursed softly.

“What’s the matter?”

“I forgot the vanilla,” he said with touch of embarrassment. “In my defense, half the time, there was none in it. If the prices were too high, they couldn't afford to feed all of us vanilla-soaked confections.”

“I’m sure it will still be good,” Etien assured him, finally getting the bite into her mouth. “And it is.” She dabbed at her mouth and swallowed. “Sorry. It is, it’s good!”

“I’m glad you like it,” he said, a little relieved. He took her fork and had a bite himself.

“Yours is in the pan, ser,” she teased, taking back her fork. Even as she said it, she cut him another piece and fed it to him.

“I thought I smelled Poor Knights,” Estinien mumbled as he joined them in the kitchen.

As if it had been timed, Aymeric set down the cup of coffee for him.

He sipped it, then gave them each a good-morning kiss (this was a habit of theirs he was amenable to joining in on). “I have to admit, while I still will not have a plate of it myself, it does taste better off your lips,” he commented, pleasantly surprised.

Aymeric sat down with several more slices, giving one to Etien and keeping the two that remained. “And toast for you, Estinien. There’s also honey.”

Etien rested her chin on her free hand, humming softly. “What does he need honey for? He already looks so sweet.”

[efrmellifer]

Wyrmelliferel Week: Four

Recovery

With their picnicking on the beach completed, and a break in the fireworks, Aymeric, Estinien, and Etien packed up their towels and headed for the aetheryte.

"I'm coated in sand," Estinien complained.

"We can brush you off at home," Aymeric assured him. "Etien is very good with the broom."

She smiled, though she groaned as Estinien's leg hit hers.

"I didn't kick you that hard, and it was an accident," he said, confused. "I'm sorry."

"No, no, it isn't you," she said. "I got too much sun on my legs."

They were pink, upon his and Aymeric's joint inspection.

"Well. Looks like bathrobes to sleep in and frequent aloe treatments," Aymeric remarked. "May I volunteer for aloe duty?"

With a scoff, she nudged him. "You're perfect for the job," she added.

"And what do I do?" Estinien asked.

"Gloat about the hat and sunblock," Etien mumbled. "You will be a vital part of the recovery effort, once you're sand-free."

"Perhaps you can be in charge of bringing drinks of water," Aymeric suggested, "a most important role. More so than rubbing aloe onto Etien's legs."

"And yet I envy you," he replied, before they all disappeared into the aether, waiting to return to Ishgard.

[efrmellifer]

Wyrmelliferel Week: Seven

Dreams

Aymeric had simple dreams. Not the ones that would come to him in his sleeping, of course; his mind worked through the complexities of his waking life just as hard as he slept. But his aspirations, the things he wanted out of life now, those were simple these days.

He had no need to want more, really. He had once resigned himself to being happy with even simpler than that, truthfully.

But there was no need to dwell on his prior plans of self-denial. Not when he was so blessed now.

They were simple dreams, of Landric continuing to fall asleep in his lap even as he got bigger and older. That he and Betula never got too old to feel happy and comfortable to sleep near him.

He had dreams for Ishgard, that he didn’t have to worry about disagreements among her citizens becoming schisms and shattering what had been built.

But more than that, he had dreams of unions more applicable to him, that he hoped would be equally abiding.

He wanted more beach days and more snowy walks and more of the slow mornings in, not unlike the one he was experiencing now.

Etien lay to his left, her tail draped over her hip to rest across his leg, even as her legs were pressed around his, and her forehead against his side, every gust of her breath warming along his ribs.

And to his right lay Estinien, hair a mess and lying mostly separate. Mostly, save for the way one hand tangled with Aymeric’s, Estinien’s other arm draped across his own body so his fingertips were gripping Aymeric’s shirt.

What need was there for grander dreams, when all he wanted was more of this?

[efrmellifer]

We'll get there fast and then we'll take it slow

Moonfire Faire Fun

*tropical drinks not shown

[efrmellifer]

Wyrmelliferel Week: Five

First Kiss

It had been a very good bottle of wine with dinner, and it had Estinien wanting to ask questions, things he had never asked his partners before.

“Who was your first kiss, Etien?”

She laughed, sipping at her tea. “T’ahn. F’mahkra was very disappointed in me.”

“Was he any good?”

“I was hardly a connoisseur of kisses at the time,” she said, “I’ve had better since. Much, much better. I’m sitting with better.”

Aymeric chimed in. “Does that mean that when I gave you that kiss in Saint Reymanaud’s, I was the second person you’d ever kissed?”

She nodded. “And I realized how good it could be, yes.”

Estinien chuckled low. “You are good at it, Aymeric.”

“When did you two kiss for the first time?” Etien asked, leaning back and resting the heels of her slippered feet on the low table.

“Oh, we were young,” Aymeric said. “Twenty, I think. That archery wound on my hand had just healed.”

“It was quick. I wish I had let him take his time,” Estinien remarked. “But we had just come back from some sortie, and the other men were letting the last of their tensions out with drink and with fistfights.

I was seated on my bed, and Aymeric sat with me, saying how glad he was that I had come back unharmed. And then he kissed me, quick but soft.”

“I had been working up my courage all night. Estinien could be very intimidating back then, and I didn’t want to… I do not even know anymore what I was thinking.”

“But it doesn’t matter now,” Estinien said with a shrug. “Unless you still have to work up your courage and I simply didn’t know about it.”

Now Aymeric laughed, leaning in and giving Estinien a brief, but decidedly unhurried, kiss. “Absolutely not. ‘Tis as natural as breathing.”

He kissed Etien’s temple after that. “And as vital for my continued well-being, if I say so.”

[efrmellifer]

Wyrmelliferel Week: Two

Travel

“So,” Etien said, flopping down in front of Aymeric’s desk, pulling her cover-up around her.

“My dearest, I do keep the house warm, but certainly not that warm. Why are you dressed like that?” Even as he asked, his eyes glid over her appreciatively.

“That’s the thing! Estinien and I wanted to take you on a day trip to Costa del Sol for the Moonfire Faire.”

“I know the airships are faster now than they used to be, but—”

“Shh,” Etien said with a laugh. “After the linkpearl call you and he had when Thancred, Urianger, and I arrived in Thavnair astoundingly aethersick, he… persuaded them to make a treatment for that aethersickness. So we were thinking we would go that way and come back the same after the fireworks. We would be home in time to put Betula and Landric to bed! Though Edmont might be upset if we deprive him of the chance.”

This had Aymeric humming thoughtfully. “Well, that is an appealing prospect.”

“Come on,” she playfully whined. “Estinien already has the shorts and the matching cover-up,” she lifted the hem of her own, “ready for you.”

“You two do so love to dress me.”

She giggled. “You’re so good-looking, how could we not?”

Once the three of them were dressed, Estinien started to grumble. “I thought we were going, once we were ready.”

“We are,” Etien soothed. “I’m just making sure I have everything we might need.”

“’Tis for a day, not a fortnight,” Estinien told her. “What could you possibly need?”

She dragged a hat out of her bag and half-tossed it up onto his head. “That, for one thing.”

She pulled a tube out of the bag and beckoned Aymeric over. He ducked, and she swept sunblock across his nose, then up his ears.

“If you behave so I can do the same for you,” she told Estinien, “I’ll give you a kiss.”

“I will as well,” Aymeric said with a little teasing smile.

He shrugged. “At that point, I suppose it should be worth it.” He bent, getting a generous dab of sunblock, then the two promised kisses.

Then, they set out, wrapped in their towels to keep some warmth as they made their way to the Ishgard aetheryte.

Each island was packed with fair-goers, but Aymeric, Estinien, and Etien managed to find a spot to lay down their towels on the sand and just listen to the waves coming in, and the distant cries and explosions from the course set up a distance down the beach.

“Do you want to try the course?” she asked them, watching people drop into the water with big splashes.

“I spend enough time diving,” Estinien said.

“I will come with and cheer you on if you want to attempt it,” Aymeric told her. “Perhaps we can bring Estinien a refreshing drink once you have claimed your victory, unsodden.”

As they rose to wander down to the course, Estinien found himself moving their belongings to the safety of the shade, then following after them.

“Oh, hello,” Etien cooed when he caught up to them, not far from the entry to the course.

“Wherever Aymeric is going to stand to cheer for you, I’ll be standing with him.”

“Look to us when you fear you will waver.”

“But not too often, or you will fall.”

“Estinien!”

“No, he’s right,” Etien said, eyes crinkling in a laugh. “I think I’ll be line a while, you two should go get a drink, maybe something to eat.”

“Can we bring you anything?”

“No, you promised me a victory drink. I’m looking forward to that.” She grinned.

In a playful mood from the festivities, Estinien agreed with Aymeric’s idea to order one tropical drink (the largest one, served in a pineapple) with two straws for them to share.

So they sat on one of the higher piers, so they could watch Etien when she got onto the course, just sipping their drink.

They were quiet, just the waves, the shouts below, and the breeze in their ears, until Aymeric let go of the pineapple for a moment so he could set his hand down on top of Estinien’s.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “I needed this.”

“You did. We all did, but you especially.” After a beat, he went on. “You’re welcome. But you do not really need to thank me.”

Aymeric rested his head on Estinien’s shoulder. “When you do nice things, I should. And I am grateful, for this, and for so many other things over the years.”

“As am I.”

They sat in silence some more, contentedly passing the pineapple back and forth.

Just before she got onto the course, Etien turned a tight circle, looking for Aymeric and Estinien.

“Viscountess!” Estinien called to her, so he wouldn’t call attention to her, just get her attention.

She caught sight of them, waved, and then headed onto the course, weaving through the newly-added parts, and dodging the bombs as they appeared and detonated, moving up through the wooden levels.

It didn’t take long for her to be slipping down the slide at the end and then leaping into the water to return to shore, where a coconut and her two companions waited for her.

[efrmellifer]

Wyrmelliferel Week: One

Confession

Estinien looked into his coffee as the milk swirled around in it, thinking about how it came to be in front of him. Well, not in the immediate sense, of Aymeric still half-asleep grinding the beans while Etien boiled water and got a cup—Estinien’s cup—to set up the filter.

But how he ended up here.

Every young boy who was a good follower of Halone knew that there was no shame in going to confession. It meant you knew your fellow man deserved good treatment and you were apologizing for disappointing Her in not doing so.

It had still always chafed him a little, the kneeling and “Forgive me, father, for I have sinned; my last confession was three moons ago,” the confessing of it.

And he’d been as reluctant to confess “I love you” as he was to confess “I used foul language.”

The first night he’d thought with certainty that he was in love with Aymeric was after their third meal together, the third time he’d reached for his coin purse and Aymeric gently waved his hand away.

He’d gone to bed that night with a full belly and an even fuller mind, thinking of his fingers in those inky locks, cradling his head to pull Aymeric closer for a kiss.

It took a long while for him to say anything, though.

And though it was far more poetic to remark on that night in the Churning Mists, where Etien’s eyes had looked like emeralds, it was a bunch of little moments in which he had fallen in love with her. The sight of her (and Aymeric) at his infirmary bedside, seeing her in her Starlight finery, the way she’d bounded over excited at the sight of him when he’d visited the Rising Stones, all of those would have been good times to confess.

But he had committed the sin of omission.

Finally, he took his spoon and stirred his coffee, listening to Etien follow Aymeric down the hall and almost out the door as he headed for the Congregation.

Just before he was out in the cold air of the morning, Estinien caught up to them both, and took his hand, squeezing it. He still couldn’t say it as easily as they could to each other, and to him, but he could show it in these little gestures.

“See you tonight,” he said with a little smile.

“I shall look forward to it,” Aymeric replied, leaning back in the door to kiss him, then Etien.

[efrmellifer]

Wyrmelliferel Week: Three

Injury

There truly hadn’t been dancing for the Warrior of Light like there had been for the rest of Eorzea. It wasn’t that she was refusing to, choosing to become a recluse, though that was what the gossips tossed back and forth in their salons. The innocently curious didn’t have much of an answer for it, either. But the truth of it was this.

While Etien had managed to muster her strength to rise from the stretcher she’d been laid on aboard the Ragnarok, and she had disembarked to cheers and gone through the receiving line of back-clapping from the gathered allies without flinching, and she had held on long enough to get poured into an airship directly to Ishgard, her victorious, giddy leap into Aymeric’s arms was the absolute last drops of her strength.

It was lucky Aymeric was so capable and willing to carry her, because those few steps from the airship landing to the house were too many for her to handle.

Artoirel and Edmont trailed after them, still holding Betula and Landric from when Aymeric had handed them off to take Estinien’s linkpearl call warning them all of her imminent arrival, and like that, they processed into the house.

Being laid down like precious porcelain was the last she remembered of that day, and many after.

Ready to delay his trip back to Radz-at-Han by however long it would take, Estinien had been hot on Etien’s heels getting off the airship, letting himself in and trotting right to the bedroom.

But he and Etien had just spent plenty of time together, less than romantic much of it was. He was far more concerned with Aymeric.

“It has been too long,” he murmured, brushing Aymeric’s hair off his collar, making the back of his neck available for him to kiss.

“It has indeed. But now you have returned.”

He pulled up a chair and sat down beside Aymeric. “I hope things were a little less… severe here.”

Aymeric shrugged. “The sky never turned red, we saw no meteor showers. But even if we had, I may not have known, what with trying to lead the nation, communicate with the others, and be the father the twins deserve.”

“I’m sorry we left you alone.”

He sighed. “No. You didn’t. You gave me, gave us all, a world to wake up to today and every day after. And you came home now that it’s over. But I do not wish to think of then any longer.”

“Nor do I,” Estinien said with a snort, “so let us not.”

It had been a long day, however, so the two of them fell into happy quiet, and still in their chairs, they fell asleep.

The next morning, though, they woke to cricks in their necks and the realization that now it was them at Etien’s bedside, rather than the other way around as it had been years before.

“I’ll get a bowl of water, a cloth, and bandages,” Aymeric said as he rose, “you get her stripped and keep her calm if she wakes up.”

Estinien cautiously began opening her coat and easing it off her, mumbling, “Easy, dove, just me,” when Etien let out an upset sound.

Aymeric returned quickly, already soaking the rag in the water so he could dab at her forehead first. “There, dearest, we shall just clean you up and get fresh bandages on you, then you will not be disturbed.”

In quiet, they worked, wiping dried blood from the wounds, combing her hair and getting her into her nightgown so she could rest.

Then, Aymeric crawled onto the bed, beckoning Estinien over to join him. Glad he wasn’t getting any protest, he wrapped Estinien in his arms, letting his fingers run through the silver ponytail. “I missed you.”

What was it about this bed that got him to say things so openly, things he couldn’t normally, he wondered as he replied, simply, “I missed you, too.”

“I was praying for you. I am sure Halone got tired of hearing your name. ‘Keep Estinien safe. Look after Estinien. I wonder if Estinien has eaten properly today?’”

“That is not a prayer.”

“It is when it is said with thoughts to your well-being, directed to Her.”

“Or perhaps She laughed at us, constantly taking to Her about each other.”

Aymeric laughed softly, pressing his forehead to Estinien’s neck. “Perhaps.” After a breath’s length, he went on. “I am glad you are unharmed. That She did guide you and keep you.”

“Right back here,” Estinien murmured.

“You sound tired.”

“I am.”

Now there was concern in Aymeric’s voice. “Please, get some more sleep. Do you need me to let you go?”

Estinien shook his head. “I think I’ll sleep better like this.”

“Good.” Aymeric kissed his forehead. “Sleep well.”

[efrmellifer]

Wyrmelliferel Week: Six

Hands/Faith (it's both!)

Etien tried to rush back into the church without making too much noise. The last thing she needed now that she was coming into the gathering after it had begun was to get everyone’s attention so she couldn’t deny her perceived tardiness later.

The collective muttering of prayers was enough to cover the occasional shushing of her shoes’ soles on the stone floors, and she was lucky that people’s heads were down, eyes closed as the beads slipped through their fingers so that she was able to slip back into the church pew that Aymeric and Estinien were in. She dropped onto the kneeler like a bird roosting, her cloak still on to keep the twins covered, hoping to preserve their sleep.

With a slight turn and tilt of his head, Aymeric noted her return.

“Landric was having trouble falling asleep again,” she whispered, pulling her rosary from its leather pouch, the green beads gleaming in the candlelight. She looked over at Aymeric’s rosary to see where they were in which decade, and then she fell silent until the next prayer began.

When they all advanced one bead and began praying again, the others faded into the background, and Etien could only hear herself, Aymeric, and Estinien, voices low but in unison.

“Hail, Halone, our shield and our spear. First art Thou among the Twelve, and blessed are those Thou led to this land. Blessed Fury, keep us in our daily lives, and guide us to Thy halls at our end. Amen.”

Over and over, they repeated the words, beads sliding under their thumbs.

She could focus on the words, but only if she didn’t shut her eyes.

She let them open, and stared up at the statue at the front, hoping her expression was one of acceptable piety. The stained glass behind it cast primarily blue hues onto the statue, making the shadows on the stone all the darker.

She looked at Aymeric’s hands again then, the sapphire-blue crystal cradled so carefully between his thumb and his middle finger, how he rubbed the bead as he prayed.

They had probably not been so pretty until they’d been tumbled and polished by his hands, beautified by becoming his worry stones, and held with such reverence.

It was deeply impious, especially for being in church, but for a moment, she envied the crystal.

She cast her gaze past them to the wooden rosary dangling from Estinien’s folded hands. It was older, probably a gift in his childhood, and kept on his person so it had survived the burning of Ferndale. It looked old in that way. Precious for all it symbolized, rather than its ‘humble’ materials.

It too was beautiful, held so tightly in his hands.

She only knew a little about stringing beads, and didn’t want to commit any sacrilege (well, other than the acts she had already), or cause either of them offense, but part of her wondered if it might be all right if they combined pieces of one another’s rosaries, so she had one decade of blue crystal and one of wood, Aymeric had wood and green lacquer mixed in, and Estinien had the crystal and lacquer accompanying the rich wood of his rosary.

Their rosaries had so far symbolized their lives before now; plenty of Ishgardians were given heirloom rosaries from their spouses’ families as a show of their ties; why not have their three reflect the family they were?

They were symbols of faith: Halonic prayer, and the three faithful partners. It was rosaries that had brought them together, after all.

As she thought about that, as they went into the next decade’s first Hail Halone, Blessed Fury, Aymeric slipped his free hand into hers.

She felt a pang of guilt that Estinien wasn’t getting the same attention, until she saw Aymeric's other hand clasped in his, their thumbs moving jointly over the smooth wood of Estinien’s rosary.

She closed her eyes again, feeling linked with them and feeling the breaths of the twins against her, these reminders of devotion. These blessings for which she couldn’t not thank the divine.