14 - Promises Kept
As the Dragonsong War came to a close, I had something I hadn't had much of in my term as Lord Commander: time.
A certain Lord Commander tells us the answer to a private question, what he wants for himself after the dust has settled.
One plan after another, failed. Thwarted attempts at peace. Still, somehow we survived. A trial to earn Hraesvelgr's trust, only for Nidhogg to wound Hraesvelgr shortly after. Peace so carefully brokered between man and dragon, out of grasp every time we approached it.
But in spite of it all, my dear friend was with us again. Estinien had been corrupted by Nidhogg, feared lost to us all, adrift in the sea of the wyrm's hatred. But he was safe now, he had found us. He was home again.
--
A brief moment embraced us all, shortlived but powerful. Quiet in Ishgard as we took stock of where we had been and where we were going. Raucous laughter among the adopted sons and daughters of House Fortemps filling the house with sound, Count Edmont's face with an unyielding smile and eyes with tears.
As the Dragonsong War came to a close, I had something I hadn't had much of in my term as Lord Commander: time. Evenings returning the Warrior of Light to House Fortemps wouldn't end at the doorstep, but in the sitting room before a roaring fire, each moment more precious than the last.
I had made a fool of myself the night of the Grand Melee. Dancing and drinking harder than I had as a squire. Her arm wrapped around me on the steps of the Pillars as she lost her legs to the laughter controlling her body. I enjoyed the night, truly, but I did not want to give the wrong impression.
I loathed the thought that she might think I viewed her as a conquest, only enjoying private time together to slink around in the night or behind the closed doors of my office. Any curious set of eyes could have seen us, her clinging to me in the middle of the night. Any number of thoughts could be born from that sight. I sought to immediately make my, perhaps our, indiscretion right.
--
I sought out Count Edmont privately as I could. Letting the sound fade behind the door, Edmont's face confused if not concerned.
"Out with it, bear your grim tidings." he moaned
"Grim? I beg your pardon?"
"To spirit me away from the ears of our loved ones, I expected only words that would spoil the mood."
"Perhaps," I warned. "For fear of risking the integrity of House Fortemps once more, I would like to ask your permission."
Brows twisted into further bemusement. "I would like your permission," I repeated, "to court a ward of House Fortemps"
Confusion gave way to shock, followed swiftly by the longest hug I have received as a grown man. "To protect her as he would have?" he whispered into my ear. To think he knew of whom I spoke as soon as the question passed my lips. Had I been so obvious? Listening to tales, laughing with our comrades in the sitting room, perhaps I had been naked in my intent. My eyes betrayed my thoughts, focusing primarily on her regardless of who was speaking.
I nodded, keeping my oath. To know her, to see her as she really is. To never stand on ceremony with her again, only to feel as free as I had felt in all of the precious time I'd enjoyed in her company. To protect her honor from prying eyes that question my intentions or her own, to court her properly. To love her, fully and true if she would have it.
--
The next day, the newly acquired luxury of time would prove difficult to keep. It slipped through my wanting hands as the day wore on.
My dream, the dream of many had been fulfilled, Ishgard had become a republic. I considered my future, pouring a drop of rich birch syrup into my tea. Savoring it on my lips, thinking of who I must be in the eyes of Ishgard now that I could relinquish my temporary powers. Our lives had changed, and I could choose the normal that I returned to. Lucia had long been a reliable knight, rising beyond the call of duty time and time again. It was unthinkable at my age, to resign and let my first commander become Lord Commander. But perhaps...
Ishgard had been my sole love, towering before any other. The season of my youth had come and was beginning to pass as I watched knights younger than me take husbands and wives, sire children. Was it so wrong to want something for myself, just this once?
--
By the afternoon, my fate was decided. I had been elected speaker of the newly founded House of Lords. I thought of my proposal to Count Edmont, the plan I had set in motion. Allowing myself some measure of grief for what I had thought I could have, what might happen if I'd just had more time. Time for myself, time for her. Nay, I could make the time as Lord Commander and Lord Speaker.
In the time that has passed since, in becoming a wiser and better man, I know that I was foolish. That it was not my lack time that held me away from her, but far more. That an attempt to make time while we still had it available to us was not enough.
--
I saw to my plans to have her over to my home. I had gotten permission from House Fortemps, not from its' new head but from its' heart. With Count Edmont's consent, the question of her consent remained. I sent word with a servant from my home to invite her for a meal at my home that night. With my promise of time, I hurried home before the sun set. I joined the kitchen staff to prepare a meal, answered questions from the flustered minds that I had upset with a change in routine. I dismissed as many as would leave, though some showed strange interest in staying. I suppose it had been quite a while since I had any guests, any requests for lavish food, for any food at all. A spectacle for the ages, it would seem.
I reflected while waiting for my Sohm Al tart to reach perfection. Had I jumped to conclusions? My earlier offer for a drink was met with surprise and trepidation. Was dinner in my home too forward? If my feelings were not returned, would she be horrified that I had spoken to Count Edmont about my intent? I'm sure that word had passed from him to Artoirel, god forbid Emmanellain. Once it had reached Emmanellain's ears, it must pass through the ears of every Ishgardian willing to listen to the gossip he dispenses. Had I made a mistake?
Indeed, I had. Lost in my reverie, my tart had burnt. The price of seeking perfection, I suppose. No one truly could. Then again, I to this day have never tried the Warrior of Light's Sohm Al tart. Hm. Another day.
I rushed to find suitable clothing, something that would allow her to consider me outside of my role. To see me in a new light. Perhaps she would wear something other than battle gear or funeral clothes. I tried on more clothing than I am proud to admit.
The last shirt felt too much like bedclothes, I did not want her to think I was attempting to take her to bed. The suggestion was improper, but what if she did wrap me in an embrace, wild haired and wide eyed, demanding I take her to bed with me? Would I have the strength to stop myself from carrying her off on my shoulders once more? What if she arrived in pyjama-like clothing as well, content to fall asleep on my setee instead of her own, thick lashes beating against her soft cheeks?
A sharp knock rapped against my door. She was here. Waiting in the foyer, she was here. There was no time to change and I prayed that my neurotic thoughts were controlling my self perception, my clothes were fine. It is just dinner with a dear friend, a dinner at which I hoped against hope that she wanted to know me as deeply as I wanted to know her.
--
"I must say, your spirited accounts always come as a welcome change from the arid reports which fill my days", I sighed as she told me about her quest for the horn at Moghome.
"Though I have lived in these lands my entire life, to hear you speak of them, there is much and more I have yet to see", I admitted.
Truthfully, I felt an ilm of jealousy in the ease with which she spoke of her time in my homeland. The details she noticed on her many journeys. The peoples she treated with, viewing each and all as an equal. No pretense between them, only honest words. I longed for that kind of candor. No smoke and mirrors, no political dances of persuasion. "Truly, yours was a marvelous journey", I sighed.
Casually, she asked "Why not join me on the next?"
For a moment, I thought she had heard me those months ago. Silently praying to her from my desk that she think of me on her journeys, that she write me a missive describing the sights before her. But to join her? I could hardly stifle my excitement.
"Hah!" I cried, considering her offer.
"Well...truth be told, when I think back on the sweeping vistas of the Churning Mists, I do feel some slight pangs of wanderlust..."
I longed for honesty, but the day's news stood between me and my most earnest wishes. The pangs were deep, for more than sweeping vistas of endless sky. I feared my own eagerness, counting the doubts I held shortly before her arrival. I feared her reaction if I reached across the table, if I dashed across the room to her seat to beg that her suggestion held a promise to take me with her.
My fear was powerful. I closed my eyes, acquiescing to the reality of that time. "Alas, as much as I would like to accept your invitation, I fear my present duties with the House of Lords require my undivided attention. Someday, perhaps."
Someday, I would make the time. If only she could allow me to settle the freshly born republic into safety, to complete my term, to allow a successor the spoils of my efforts. I regretted my words. Someday suggested an eternity. I did not know myself how long it would take, but I knew that it would not be forever. But did she? Through veiled words, could she see my intent? The yearning for a moment under foreign skies not as the Warrior of Light and the Lord Speaker, simply Lua and Aymeric?
My voice softened, I failed. I betrayed a hint of myself, misstepping in a waltz of subterfuge that she hadn't asked to dance.
"I can still see you there, on the Steps of Faith, striding fearlessly towards the wyrm..." Like my smug pride the day first we spoke at Camp Dragonhead, my voice gave away my awe. "If you could do that, who are we to balk at the challenges ahead?"
She blushed, perhaps considering her words carefully as well "I do what I can." Modest to a fault. Determined to see her blush once more, I apprised her of the great thanks Ishgard held for her. I toasted her with the finest wine I could find that afternoon, winning the red face and ruddy cheeks I sought.
Lowering my glass, my intent betrayed me once more. The purpose of her visit, of my failed Sohm Al tart, of my challenge to speak intent through careful words and the correct shirt. The question had come to me in private moments before I slept or as I quieted impolite discussions about the shine of her hair or the scent of roses left in her wake. I had imagined what she might say. To continue adventuring, to adventure with my friends, for you to join me. To stay in Ishgard, to feel it wholly my home. To fall in love, to find myself cared for. To never hold a new scar on my skin, to be beloved by someone strong. To be held like something fragile, never to suffer fresh grief again.
The question spilled from me before I could collect it back into my mind.
"May I ask you a personal question?"
She nodded.
"Now that the dust has settled, what will you do? Not as a Scion, I mean, but...what do you want for yourself?"
She paused, surprised. Perhaps she had not considered it before. My heart tugged, imagining myself beside her in foreign lands. In my home, in a different home all our own. In my bed on a sunny morning, fair weather returned to Coerthas. Her, surrounded by children of my countenance and her chiming lau-
"Lord Commander, please forgive the interruption."
--
We rushed to young Alisae's side, brought low by a foe the Scions had met before. The bearing of Alphinaud, so freshly grieving friends. I saw him as I'd seen him before, expecting Estinien's demise. Now, his own sister. I hoped that death would never touch him like this again, that Alisae would pull through with the efforts of our chirugeons' ministrations. Though we had not met before, I felt deeply for the young maiden clinging to life in the same room that had born witness to much tragedy in the months past. I felt as much for Edmont, not ready to witness more loss in his sitting room.
--
