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“Please do not wear the armor.”
“I’m wearing the armor.”
“You could at least grant the Warrior of Light the decency of removing your helmet.”
Estinien huffed and continued to walk down the street, Aymeric catching up with a quick step. The two were preparing for All Saint’s Wake together, though Estinien was certainly far more lacking in preparations than Aymeric, who had long ago become used to attending parties and ceremonies.
“Hmph. If the Warrior of Light wished to accompany a robe-wearing milksop, then she would have come to anyone else with an invitation.”
Estinien’s face softened as he remembered the events of the last week. He had stepped out of his private quarters and collided with none other than the Warrior herself, who had immediately flushed and excused themselves, striding down the long hallway a bit faster than usual. Estinien would not have thought much of it, if the same thing had not happened the next day. On the third morning, he simply opened his door and looked down to see the adventurer once again.
“Do you need something?” he asked, and the Warrior of Light, seasoned fighter, slayer of primals, saviour of Ishgard, jumped.
“I’m sorry to bother you! I just- I- Could you- There’s going to be a party for All Saint’s next week and I thought that- I mean-”
Estinien raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking me to accompany you?”
She exhaled and buried her face in her hands. “Yes.”
To the surprise of both of them, the next words out of Estinien’s mouth were “Very well, I suppose-”, which were promptly interrupted by the Warrior of Light sighing with relief and saying that Aymeric could relay the details, before once again making a hasty escape. When Estinien had consulted Aymeric for said details, the Lord Commander had joked that he would expect him to show up in his usual bloodied set of armor, before realizing that that was exactly what he intended to do. And so here they were, perusing the stalls of the Jeweled Crozier on Aymeric’s insistence that the dragoon wear anything but his usual getup.
“Yes, but the Warrior of Light did not invite you to slay broodlings, as much as you may prefer that-”
“I would much rather-”
“Regardless,” Aymeric continued, “it is in my understanding that it took a good deal of courage on her behalf to ask for your company, and that the very least you could do for her would be to return that courage.”
Estinien frowned. “I do not fear fancy dress. It is simply impractical.”
Aymeric leaned into his face with a sly grin. “I know it is not the robes you fear. I am saying that it takes courage to let the Warrior of Light see your blushing cheeks!”
Estinien groaned as he felt said cheeks begin to brighten. Between the severity of his commitment and Aymeric’s intensely mirthful expression, Halone was testing him.
Come to think of it, he had not seen Aymeric take this much joy in anything in ages. “Busy” did not even begin to describe his life after his appointment as lord speaker, and - Estinien realized with an inkling of guilt - sparing an evening for his companion cost far more to Aymeric than it did himself.
“Perhaps I should dye my hair pink to match my date. Perhaps that would satisfy your desire for mine courage”, he said, overemphasizing the last two words.
“Will you be picking up the mantle of the Rose Dragoon, then?” Aymeric was now hunched forward, struggling to hold back his laughter.
Estinien began to smirk. “Oh, will the Rose Dragoon have a Rose Commander to lead him?”
Aymeric’s giggling turned into a full-blown cackle completely unbefitting of a political leader. “Wait here for one moment.” He walked to a stall down the road with the excitement of a child on Starlight Eve.
After a hasty transaction with a street vendor, he returned with two bundles of dried oldroses - one red, one blue. Estinien squinted at the red bundle before flinching as Aymeric leaned in and stuck the blue one in his helmet.
“There, now we match each other”, he said, pinning a red flower to his chest before taking a look at the two of them and starting to laugh again.
Estinien could not help but let Aymeric’s contagious laughter get to him. “We look ridiculous.”
Aymeric wiped a tear from his eye and nodded in agreement as he tried to catch his breath. “And at the same time it feels as if I have not laughed this hard in ages. Pray forgive me for my, ahem, excitement,” he said, beginning to fall back into his practiced demeanor. “I must admit, it is … nice, to set down my role for a bit.”
Estinien nodded. “Aye. I sometimes forget that before all of this-” he paused, “-dragonsong business, we were once nothing more than good friends.” A fond smile crossed his face as he reminisced about their time in the Temple Knights. Long hours spent training as the sun burned away in the sky, longer hours spent in tents under the moon -- things were simpler then.
His thoughts were interrupted by Aymeric clapping a hand on his back. “I must return to my quarters soon for some paperwork, but let us meet again soon. ...Perhaps for a tankard of ale?”
Estinien could hardly suppress his wry smile. “I suppose it’s a date, then.”
“Only if you take off those ridiculous flowers. And pray do not show up tomorrow with those on!”
“Very well, off you go to your paperwork,” Estinien said, waving a hand dismissively. He returned to his own quarters amusing himself with what he imagined the Warrior of Light’s reaction would be to seeing him in roses.