#mutasharid

Having Nidhogg’s aether fuse with his own had Estinien turn into a draconic creature of his own: a tail with a spiky tip, claws, a pair of horns and scales that covered his body here and there. He was a monster and Estinien knew that and yet Vali had never mentioned that he shared the same opinion, though sometimes he caught the mage stare at him with an expression he couldn’t quite discern.

Finally having a moment to themselves the two of them had retreated to a room and there Estinien stood awkwardly in the middle of it, wearing nothing but a pair of black breeches, his tail flicking nervously behind him.

Vali stood before him, the mage’s gaze taking in all the things that were new about Estinien and he wasn’t quite sure if he could read the expression in his partner’s eyes correctly: was it curiosity? Was it disgust? What if…

Estinien had to stop thinking otherwise he would go insane, so instead he stood in front of the Black Mage like he expected he would stand before Halone once his time had finally come. Well, if the goddess would allow a creature like him into her halls.

Eventually the anticipation became almost unbearable and he moved a step forward, into the mage’s personal space, the expression in his eyes suggested he was almost begging for a reaction, and the one he received was not one he had expected.

Nimble fingers found his body and even though the dragoon was disgusted by himself, he did not pull away, he let Vali trace all the scales he could reach. The ones on his collarbones, his forearms, the one’s on his sides and those that trailed down his hips and disappeared beneath the waistband of his breeches. And then the Black Mage’s voice broke the silence:

i want to know how it feels.

It was finally over. Finally Estinien could lay down the mantle of Azure Dragoon and find a new purpose in life. After dedicating his entire existence to vengeance his goal was finally achieved when the great wyrm Nidhogg had been slain and even though the Dragoon himself nearly succumbed to the possession of the dragon it was all thanks to the little Lordling Alphinaud and the ever capable Warrior of Light that Estinien was still alive. He had begged them to kill him when he managed to shortly regain control of his own body, he had wanted them to kill him as it would have meant to bring demise to Nidhogg, who was at the time residing within his body, as well, but the pair had other plans, and together they not only saved Estinien’s life but also finally brought an end to the Dragonsong War.

In a way he was grateful for them saving him, but on the other hand? Now Estinien stood in the living room of his own home, a small wooden house not far from Camp Dragonhead, but it left him with the question.. what was he supposed to do now? Estinien had thought that taking revenge on the dragon that had killed his family would leave him feeling satisfied, but after he learned and realized that Nidhogg had been driven by the same motivation as Estinien himself.. there was no satisfaction left in him, only a feeling of utter sadness, there was just so much loss of life, so much despair. And for what?

Estinien had nothing left to do, nothing left to give, nothing left to fight for. Why did Vali and Alphinaud have to save him?

The former dragoon gasped when a sudden wave of pain rushed through his body. It was similar to the pain he had felt when Nidhogg had first taken control of his body, but this was even worse. He stumbled forward and then fell to his knees, hands pressed to his head as if it could ease the shattering pain in his mind. What was happening to him? This couldn’t be Nidhogg’s doing, could it? The last thing on his mind before he passed out was his family.

~

Estinien didn’t know how much time had passed when he woke up, he only knew that his living room looked like a battlefield. The wooden chairs were broken, shards of broken plates were scattered on the ground and a few pillows looked as if they had been torn apart by wolves. What had happened? Slowly Estinien sat up and that was the moment he realized that there was something seriously wrong with him. His hands trembled as he looked upon them, but where one would expect to see his calloused fingers were now claws and upon seeing his naked skin he noticed it being sporadically covered in scales. What had happened to him?

But the most peculiar thing was the tail that now sprouted from his lower back and which was flicking back and forth now, indicating how agitated he actually was. His entire body was shaking as he started to grasp the reality: he had transformed into a monster, into a creature his former self would most likely hunt down and kill. He should have died with Nidhogg, he was not supposed to be here.

When he heard the door open the wave of pain was replaced by a sudden burst of panic, and despite usually standing at over two meters tall, he retreated to a corner of his destroyed home, cowering there with his tail wrapped around himself protectively.

He knew Ishgard was aiming for peace with the dragons, but Estinien also knew that there would always be people disagreeing and if one of the faithful Temple Knights would find him here..  but before the thought of fleeing could cross his mind he was surprised by a familiar voice calling his name. It was Vali. The man who saved him.

Slowly looking up from where he was cowering, Estinien growled, claws digging into the wooden floor of his home.

@mutasharid photographing a wild Hythlodaeus.

Another day, another tedious banquet. The Empire loved their grandness, it loved to feel bigger and more important than it was and with the Emperor being the one person everything revolved around, there was no space for much else. For every Garlean the Emperor was the center of the universe, they did not believe in Gods, it was always the Emperor they would praise and pray to. And on the anniversary of the day of foundation everyone was preparing a feast and celebrations to honor the current Emperor; Varis zos Galvus. A man loved and respected but also feared, and it was for the celebration of this man that his son Zenos was supposed to look his best and be on his best behavior.

Said son could only scoff. His father did not care about him, not really, to his father and with that also the Empire he was merely a weapon, an accessory to parade around if necessary while on the remaining days he was both abused and neglected to forge him into a destructive force to be used against the Eorzeans once the time was right. Zenos was unaware of the cruelty and unfairness of it all, to him his life had turned into something he simply accepted; if his tutors saw fit to beat him black and blue and to leave him in a pool of his own blood, it certainly meant that this was how things were supposed to be, right? Otherwise his father would step in, wouldn’t he? He had seen Zenos with bruises and cuts all over his body more than once and all that had been said was that the pain was something a prince deserved if he couldn’t defend himself from anyone that dared to hurt him.

It made sense to him. If anyone managed to injure Zenos it was because of Zenos’ own lack of skills, and being incompetent always deserved to be punished. There was someone who did not agree with this way of thinking and constantly reminded him of that. Vali. Captured Eorzean made slave to the Garlean Crown Prince and his only friend. Ever since he and Zenos had been brought together they had become inseparable for more than one reason and these days the Prince was rarely seen without Vali by his side, but where everyone saw someone that only lived to serve and obey, it was Vali who slowly but surely taught Zenos the values of friendship and an understanding of his own emotions, though he still struggled with the latter.

Zenos sighed as he sat in a chair, his body clad in the most prestigious set of armor he owned while Vali stood behind him, taking the time to work a brush through the prince’s long blond hair, making him look presentable for the celebrations that would start in an hour. The servant himself still was not yet dressed for the occasion, the black and red satin garments lay abandoned on the little cot that served as Vali’s bed. It was a set of garments Zenos had commissioned his tailor to prepare to his companion’s exact measurements but if he wanted to admit it or not, getting the prince ready was top priority.

“You know you don’t have to put this much effort into my appearance”, Zenos said lazily as he felt Vali gently tugging at his hair which meant he had started to braid some of the long strands together. It was not an unpleasant feeling, but he still did not know what the correct way to react was so he turned ever so slightly in an attempt to look at Vali.

Vali was fussing over him again and Zenos did not see the necessity. The Prince of Garlemald was fifteen summers old now and combat training was a daily event; he had various tutors for various weapons. Most of them feared him more than they respected him, he was the Emperor’s son after all, but there was one man, the man that taught him swordsmanship, that did neither of those things. He had no respect for Zenos and he certainly did not fear him. What was there to fear for a man who already lost everything. And why should someone with skills like his be scared of a pup that barely knew how to hold a katana to defend himself.

Returning to his chambers covered in blood and bruises was nothing new, but today’s lesson had been particularly bad and Zenos clutched an injured arm to his chest as he made his way back to his room, feeling utterly defeated. What skills did he lack that he couldn’t defect a single blow of his teacher’s katana? What technique was it he used that broke so easily through his defense?

Zenos did not mind his injuries, he had long understood and accepted that in order to learn and grow he would need to go through pain and punishment. His companion had a different opinion. The Prince let Vali scold him as he cleaned the cut on Zenos’ forearm, dull blue eyes on the mage’s face as he spoke; in a way it still confused him. Why did Vali care so much if he was hurt or not, if he was happy or not, if he was treated well or not. Zenos couldn’t care less about either of these things. All he wanted was to improve his skills. Or at least that was what he thought he wanted. He was not aware of the real reason he kept looking at Vali when the other did not notice, why he always paid profound attention when he spoke.

When Vali prepared him a bath, apparently to soothe his aches and relax his sore muscles, Zenos nonchalantly stripped naked and sunk into the warm water, not caring much about the scented oils that had been added or the bubbles floating on the water’s surface, though when Vali turned to leave he reached out, catching the other’s wrist in his grip.

“Where are you going?”

Zenos yae Galvus, so detached from his own emotions he did not understand why he needed Vali close right now, he only knew that any distance between them would be more painful than any bruise. The Prince yanked and with a loud splash the mage in training landed in the tub, which was big enough to fit a grown Garlean man comfortably, but it was still rather small for royal standards. A challenging smile tugged at Zenos’ lips as he looked at his dripping companion, bubbles sticking to his wet hair where he now sat in the Prince’s lap.

With his arms crossed in front of his chest Hythlodaeus stood outside the capitol, waiting for the current meeting of the Convocation to end. This was nothing new to him, he was used to spending time in this particular part of the city, he often came here to pick up Asterios or Hades (or both) to spend their lunch break together, but today he was here on official business.

The Bureau of the Architect was more connected to the work of certain Convocation members than one would realise and especially Azem was important to them as the decision on approving or disapproving of certain concepts often depended on Azem’s reports of encountering similar creatures as he traveled the widths of their star. Though lately more and more of the people working in the Bureau of the Architect had come to Hythlodaeus to complain about Azem failing to hand in the required paperwork they needed to continue their work conscientiously; and with him being the Chief of said Bureau it fell to him to sternly remind Asterios to please take his responsibilities more seriously.

That was why Hythlodaeus waited for Azem in this moment, to remind him of his duties, and oh, how he hated it. While he usually was someone who was very social and always had a friendly smile on his face, he was now forced to form his expression into something stern, appearing awfully gloomy and unapproachable, which seemed incredibly uncharacteristic for the lavender-haired man who was known for his gentle demeanor.

When the meeting eventually ended and one by one the members of the Convocation passed him, Hythlodaeus’ gaze found Hades’ and it pained him not to be able to greet his dear friend with a gentle smile, instead he beckoned Azem over with a wave of his hand.

Taking a look around he noticed several Amaurotines standing around, observing them with curiosity, certainly waiting to find out what Azem did to sour the Chief’s mood like that. Hythlodaeus cleared his throat, relieved that his white-silver mask covered the pleading look in his eyes. He had never considered himself to be the best actor, he had heard more than once that his emotions were easily readable on his face. Only his mask could save him now.

“Azem, I have received severe complaints about your current work, or rather the lack of it. I think it is time for you to be reminded that your contribution is important for the flourish of our society. So please, be so kind to follow me to my office.”

The short walk to the Bureau felt uncomfortably tense, putting up this act was overwhelmingly stressful but necessary and when they reached his office Hythlodaeus held the door open for Asterios, then he followed and closed the door behind him.

Immediately he sighed in exhaustion and with slumped shoulders he walked past Azem, moving to lean against his desk which was covered in documents and papers in no discernible order, looking awfully chaotic.