It's hard to tell with Estinien, blank as his face often is. You know when he's angry, but the rest of the emotions are all a muddled mess when it comes to expression.
"Your mage seems to be under the impression of...something," he opens, awkward and vague as it is. He's not even sure what the implication is. It had a lot of pointed looks to it and Estinien's never been good at interpreting those. That was Aymeric's job.
"Valdeaulin is not my mage, and he would certainly take insult at the very suggestion," Gaius says, folding his hands over his work, letting some weight rest on his arms on the table. "What is he under the impression of?"
There are a thousand things: that Estinien thinks higher of Gaius than he should, perhaps. That he has been made away that Valdeaulin intends to encompass judge, jury and executioner. But he should think that neither of these two things would discomfit the Azure Dragoon.
"Mmm." Estinien looks off and to the side, mulling his words over. "We had been speaking of...the nature of grief and vengeance. A matter, as I'm sure he is loathe to let you forget, that he struggles with. I told him how I had made piece with Nidhogg, in part through having merged with his shade and felt his rage inside of me."
He falters not when speaking about his trauma, but in speaking of his confusion. "And he made some comment to the effect that he had not had such an experience with you, but mayhaps I had. I was...unsure of his meaning."
He had been smirking at the time. Estinien already has a bad feeling about this.
Gaius blinks once, and then reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
"I think you know exactly his meaning, Ser," Gaius said, voice flat. Rarely does he inflect anymore, or raise his voice. Instead, he keeps his measure level. "He meant to suggest that we were finding time to take abed and indulge as soldiers on the front do. Twas a jibe at both our expense, that's all."
Gaius's expression, already smooth with stoicism, somehow manages to flatten out further. Really, we're doing this? "The balance of power between Valdeaulin and I exists in a skew that you do not realize. He's merely exerting his power, knowing there will be no consequence for his troublemaking. To remind me of debts owed, and to not grow leisurely or content with the work. You're just his pawn in the game."
He picked up his letters again, and prepared to resume reading them. "Surely, you're man enough to rise above such small, petty politicking. Don't let him drag you into this mummery for his own amusement."
Estinien is quiet for a moment, letting Gaius read and considering his options. His head tilts to the side sightly, then back up again.
"I understand his desire for vengeance, even in small ways. A restless hunger that is never truly sated but can be quieted by small bites of this or that." Even if Estinien's quest was against something far bigger than a man - but so is Valdeaulin's, and he still puts the entire Empire's sins upon the one man in arm's reach. Estinien cannot say he didn't do the same. "But this is a useless aggression on his part. Worse than useless, if it makes us less efficient in our work. Whether I am bedding you or not should make no difference to him."
"It doesn't matter if you are or you are not," Gaius points out, looking up from his notes. Obviously, Estinien understands this kind of hate, the weight of this sort of rage. He explained he was merged with it, after all, held it in his hands, in his body, in his heart and soul -- if Gaius could believe in a soul.
"He cares that if I find a shred of peace, he may soil it in some way. I am, in essence, his prisoner and he my captor. In the absence of an attempt to rehabilitate me or kill me, he must remind me that I am weak. The Black Wolf, defanged, muzzled, with Valdeaulin's hand on his leash. It is merely him reminding me of his hand on my collar, and he cares not if you tangle in the lead," he says, watching the elezen for a betrayal of emotion. He is Gaius Baelsar, and while he can be kind, there is no real reason to be here. Not at the moment, anyway.
"Did you shed tears when heretics turned up in your path, tangled in draconic machinations, forcing your hand to cut them down -- even when they were your kith and kin?" he asks, steady as stone and twice as stoic. "Valdeaulin does not care if you suffer along side me; you are merely an Ishgardian that, by his measure, was absent in a war that you were protected from by virtue of your own, embittered conflict. He cares that I suffer and if you do too, so be it. The work will be done, and I will see it through, regardless of small humiliations. He knows that. You should too."
There's a flicker of emotion there, yes, but it's...pity. Sadness. A strange emotion on Estinien's normally sharp and derisive features that softens the edges of his face. But the pity is not for Gaius.
"I could tell him how many lives that road has claimed, both by those walking it and by innocent bystanders. If anything Ishgard should serve as an example to the world of the price paid for the indulgence of mindless, eternal vengeance." He can't help but think of Nidhogg in such a place. Chained, declawed, kept alive but harmless in the bowels of the Holy See - would that have made the life of a single child in Ishgard any better? No.
"None of his bitter words can harm me, because I don't care about his opinion. Perhaps it is the same to you. I worry about the collateral damage he may cause, though."
"Set your mind to ease, dragoon," Gaius says, sitting back in his seat and pinching the bridge of his nose once more. "I do not think that Valdeaulin will risk the mission with more than pettiness. He knows it is too large, means too much. We hunt together, we break bread together, but he will be at my back when I need him in the fight. In the mean time, he needles now and again. He needs must remind me that there are shackles, even if no one sees them."
Tucking the papers aside, he lets his mind turn the thought over in his head, before something occurs to him. His gold eyes peer back up at Estinien. "Doesn't your church condemn the practice, anyway? Just tell him that and make your piece clear. What happens in camp is not what happens when a soldier re-enters civilian society, after all. Anything you do here is a nonissue, regardless of who you do it it. Nothing of this will make it back to Ishgard. Your reputation will remain unsullied. No one would believe him if he shouted it from the top of the Holy See."
Estinien snorted. "I have not cared what the church thought before, and I am hardly about to start now. Besides, I doubt Garleans are considered as unclean as Dravanians by Halone. What little I recollect of our lectures did not mention your people in the slightest."
The 'two men' part had gone right over his head, just as sure the dragons he wasn't allowed to fuck.
Gaius's brows knit up a bit as he was bemused by the comment. "I meant men laying with men, though I suppose it puts me at ease that mighty Halone does not see me as inherently unclean." His atheism is showing through, but Gaius doesn't care. Eikons are still eikons, no matter what the people of Eorzea call them.
"At this point I must assume you have laid neither with men or with Garleans, so the point is moot. Let Valdeaulin have his tiny amusements-- if you take offense, let it be for your sake and not mine, and make it clear to him. I have little influence in what he does or who he speaks to."
Estinien rolls his eyes. "Haven't lain with anyone, really." The words escape his lips as a thoughtless mutter, and Estinien's stomach cringes the moment they are in the air. Shit. He does not need to be telling this man about his personal life, the man clearly could not give one single damn about him or his entire country.
Gaius' bemusement deepens, before something like a light passes over his face. He understands now!
"Ah, so it's offense that he speaks of an experience you don't have at all, and turn it into something newly mocking," Gaius says, relaxing a fraction. This gives him an iota of power, and he'll take it. "The truth is so far different it's doubly offensive. Well, if you get curious, there are soldiers of either sex that would gladly take the Azure Dragoon to bed. Severa herself casts a glad eye on you, if that's your interest."
If Estinien wants to become more worldly, a no-strings, no-feelings liaison in camp would absolutely be a good place to start. The elezen is comely with his silver hair and narrow eyes, cheekbones that could cut diamonds. Gaius is no fool: Estinien Wyrmblood is easy to look upon.
It will not get the reaction Gaius expects. Estinien scowls, turning his face away again. "No soldier with sense would get close to an Azure Dragoon. If your Severa pleases you, take her for yourself, I do not need such things."
People who get close to him die, or are maimed. The only exception so far has been the Scions and that's because they're powerful enough to protect themselves. An ordinary soldier would stand no chance. Even with the war over, the violence that acccompanies an Azure Dragonn seems to Estinien to be inevitable. A fact of fate.
Gaius tilts his head for a moment; Estinien doens't realize that's half of why Gaius has not had much by the way of love across his years. Who wants to take a wolf to bed, when his enemies also have fangs?
"Estinien, I cannot claim to fathom your thought that anyone here has sense, when we hunt Ascians," the man called Shadowhunter says. "I doubt that prove an obstacle, should you invite someone to your tent for a night. But if you simply don't want to, you have no need to make excuses or posture. No one will make you, and you have all the tools you need to stop Valdeaulin from making light of you."
A third thought comes to him, and he speaks it before his brain catches up with his own weariness. "If you need knowledge of the subject, Maxima can give theoretical education, though I don't know if he'd aid you half so well with practical. The Populares don't come from soldiers. Either way, I hope this has at least given you the answer you seek in regards to Valdeaulin's comments."
Gaius holds the tent flap open for a moment, looking out from where he sits with his reports.
"Leave him be," he says quietly, not wanting Estinien to hear. Still, something needs to be said to Valdeaulin before it goes too far. "He's an ally, and has done you no wrongs. Have your justice if you wish, but you need not punish a man who has done nothing but help you."
"A man like that won't die just because I accused him of making bad sexual decisions." The mage rolls his eyes. "And he ought to know what will happen if he gets too close to you. He should hardly be ignorant, just because his nation was one of the few you didn't fuck."
Meanwhile, Estinien is seeking out Maxima, sticking his head in the man's tent and blunting asking for what texts he might have on biology.
"Comrades you agitate are comrades who hesitate to trust you when they need you," Gaius said, tone kept as mild as possible. "At least pretend you care about the fight and the mission and not simply tagging along to be my jailer."
Maxima, completely unawre of any of this, is sitting in his tent, hating every fucking thing about this. He was a soft civilian, who did his miltary service in a lab or behind a desk. this is not an easy time for him, but his expertise is needed to help with the systems protecting the Black Rose.
When there's movement at his tent flap, he looks up and says, "Hello?"
"Gaius requested I come and ask you about...a science question." Estinien wasn't making eye contact as he asked it. The man seemed fine enough, far too soft to really respect but there was a place for soft in this world. Probably should be more places for it, really.
Maxma's brows do this thing where his eyebrows they go up and down his brow in various elevations, trying to experience five emotions at once. Gaius asked him to do what? This must be some sort of miscommunication. He knew there were sometimes language barriers or differences in concepts, but...
This couldn't be right.
"Can I ask... what specifics?" he said, amazed he can keep his own voice level.
"He said you would know. Are there texts, or can you simply give me a
summary?" Estinien crossed his arms impatiently, glowering at the Garlean.
It could not be too complicated, could it?
"They... lack comprehensive sex education in Ishgard?"
Maxima tries to be open-minded. He's and Athiest like most Garleans, and his view of eikons aligns with the national loathing for them. He thinks those are all reasonable positions to keep and that his nation is not wrong about those things. However, he is trying to not hear Gaius van Baelsar's voice in the back of his head: they really are savages!
How can they be so civilized and yet... fail in this basic function of all Mankind?
"Are you looking into the reproductive sense? The, uh-- safety of said acts? I -- this is a very board question, Ser, I'm sure you understand I needs must ask for more information before I can properly assist you."
Estinien gives him a flat look that Maxima is probably used to having by
now, though not from such intimidating people. The look of 'I know you
think I'm a barbarian, but could you get your three-eyed head out of your
pureblood ass long enough to at least hold a conversation with me.'
Maxima's received a warm enough welcome from the Eorzeans just based on how
valuable he is, but they are all deeply aware of how Garleans perceive them.
"Information on the act between two men," Estinien says in low tones, each
word digging in like a dagger. "So no, the reproductive aspect will not be
relevant here. We do know how babies are made, even in Ishgard."
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loligiary2022-08-06 03:27 pm
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"Your mage seems to be under the impression of...something," he opens, awkward and vague as it is. He's not even sure what the implication is. It had a lot of pointed looks to it and Estinien's never been good at interpreting those. That was Aymeric's job.
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There are a thousand things: that Estinien thinks higher of Gaius than he should, perhaps. That he has been made away that Valdeaulin intends to encompass judge, jury and executioner. But he should think that neither of these two things would discomfit the Azure Dragoon.
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He falters not when speaking about his trauma, but in speaking of his confusion. "And he made some comment to the effect that he had not had such an experience with you, but mayhaps I had. I was...unsure of his meaning."
He had been smirking at the time. Estinien already has a bad feeling about this.
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So that's what this is about, is it?
Gaius blinks once, and then reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
"I think you know exactly his meaning, Ser," Gaius said, voice flat. Rarely does he inflect anymore, or raise his voice. Instead, he keeps his measure level. "He meant to suggest that we were finding time to take abed and indulge as soldiers on the front do. Twas a jibe at both our expense, that's all."
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He picked up his letters again, and prepared to resume reading them. "Surely, you're man enough to rise above such small, petty politicking. Don't let him drag you into this mummery for his own amusement."
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"I understand his desire for vengeance, even in small ways. A restless hunger that is never truly sated but can be quieted by small bites of this or that." Even if Estinien's quest was against something far bigger than a man - but so is Valdeaulin's, and he still puts the entire Empire's sins upon the one man in arm's reach. Estinien cannot say he didn't do the same. "But this is a useless aggression on his part. Worse than useless, if it makes us less efficient in our work. Whether I am bedding you or not should make no difference to him."
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"He cares that if I find a shred of peace, he may soil it in some way. I am, in essence, his prisoner and he my captor. In the absence of an attempt to rehabilitate me or kill me, he must remind me that I am weak. The Black Wolf, defanged, muzzled, with Valdeaulin's hand on his leash. It is merely him reminding me of his hand on my collar, and he cares not if you tangle in the lead," he says, watching the elezen for a betrayal of emotion. He is Gaius Baelsar, and while he can be kind, there is no real reason to be here. Not at the moment, anyway.
"Did you shed tears when heretics turned up in your path, tangled in draconic machinations, forcing your hand to cut them down -- even when they were your kith and kin?" he asks, steady as stone and twice as stoic. "Valdeaulin does not care if you suffer along side me; you are merely an Ishgardian that, by his measure, was absent in a war that you were protected from by virtue of your own, embittered conflict. He cares that I suffer and if you do too, so be it. The work will be done, and I will see it through, regardless of small humiliations. He knows that. You should too."
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"I could tell him how many lives that road has claimed, both by those walking it and by innocent bystanders. If anything Ishgard should serve as an example to the world of the price paid for the indulgence of mindless, eternal vengeance." He can't help but think of Nidhogg in such a place. Chained, declawed, kept alive but harmless in the bowels of the Holy See - would that have made the life of a single child in Ishgard any better? No.
"None of his bitter words can harm me, because I don't care about his opinion. Perhaps it is the same to you. I worry about the collateral damage he may cause, though."
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Tucking the papers aside, he lets his mind turn the thought over in his head, before something occurs to him. His gold eyes peer back up at Estinien. "Doesn't your church condemn the practice, anyway? Just tell him that and make your piece clear. What happens in camp is not what happens when a soldier re-enters civilian society, after all. Anything you do here is a nonissue, regardless of who you do it it. Nothing of this will make it back to Ishgard. Your reputation will remain unsullied. No one would believe him if he shouted it from the top of the Holy See."
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The 'two men' part had gone right over his head, just as sure the dragons he wasn't allowed to fuck.
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"At this point I must assume you have laid neither with men or with Garleans, so the point is moot. Let Valdeaulin have his tiny amusements-- if you take offense, let it be for your sake and not mine, and make it clear to him. I have little influence in what he does or who he speaks to."
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"Ah, so it's offense that he speaks of an experience you don't have at all, and turn it into something newly mocking," Gaius says, relaxing a fraction. This gives him an iota of power, and he'll take it. "The truth is so far different it's doubly offensive. Well, if you get curious, there are soldiers of either sex that would gladly take the Azure Dragoon to bed. Severa herself casts a glad eye on you, if that's your interest."
If Estinien wants to become more worldly, a no-strings, no-feelings liaison in camp would absolutely be a good place to start. The elezen is comely with his silver hair and narrow eyes, cheekbones that could cut diamonds. Gaius is no fool: Estinien Wyrmblood is easy to look upon.
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People who get close to him die, or are maimed. The only exception so far has been the Scions and that's because they're powerful enough to protect themselves. An ordinary soldier would stand no chance. Even with the war over, the violence that acccompanies an Azure Dragonn seems to Estinien to be inevitable. A fact of fate.
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"Estinien, I cannot claim to fathom your thought that anyone here has sense, when we hunt Ascians," the man called Shadowhunter says. "I doubt that prove an obstacle, should you invite someone to your tent for a night. But if you simply don't want to, you have no need to make excuses or posture. No one will make you, and you have all the tools you need to stop Valdeaulin from making light of you."
A third thought comes to him, and he speaks it before his brain catches up with his own weariness. "If you need knowledge of the subject, Maxima can give theoretical education, though I don't know if he'd aid you half so well with practical. The Populares don't come from soldiers. Either way, I hope this has at least given you the answer you seek in regards to Valdeaulin's comments."
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The mage elf who haunts Gaius's footsteps gives a small snicker from his vantage point, and then goes back to watching the horizon.
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"Leave him be," he says quietly, not wanting Estinien to hear. Still, something needs to be said to Valdeaulin before it goes too far. "He's an ally, and has done you no wrongs. Have your justice if you wish, but you need not punish a man who has done nothing but help you."
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Meanwhile, Estinien is seeking out Maxima, sticking his head in the man's tent and blunting asking for what texts he might have on biology.
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Maxima, completely unawre of any of this, is sitting in his tent, hating every fucking thing about this. He was a soft civilian, who did his miltary service in a lab or behind a desk. this is not an easy time for him, but his expertise is needed to help with the systems protecting the Black Rose.
When there's movement at his tent flap, he looks up and says, "Hello?"
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"Particularly on the specifics of intercourse."
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This couldn't be right.
"Can I ask... what specifics?" he said, amazed he can keep his own voice level.
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"He said you would know. Are there texts, or can you simply give me a summary?" Estinien crossed his arms impatiently, glowering at the Garlean. It could not be too complicated, could it?
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Maxima tries to be open-minded. He's and Athiest like most Garleans, and his view of eikons aligns with the national loathing for them. He thinks those are all reasonable positions to keep and that his nation is not wrong about those things. However, he is trying to not hear Gaius van Baelsar's voice in the back of his head: they really are savages!
How can they be so civilized and yet... fail in this basic function of all Mankind?
"Are you looking into the reproductive sense? The, uh-- safety of said acts? I -- this is a very board question, Ser, I'm sure you understand I needs must ask for more information before I can properly assist you."
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Estinien gives him a flat look that Maxima is probably used to having by now, though not from such intimidating people. The look of 'I know you think I'm a barbarian, but could you get your three-eyed head out of your pureblood ass long enough to at least hold a conversation with me.' Maxima's received a warm enough welcome from the Eorzeans just based on how valuable he is, but they are all deeply aware of how Garleans perceive them.
"Information on the act between two men," Estinien says in low tones, each word digging in like a dagger. "So no, the reproductive aspect will not be relevant here. We do know how babies are made, even in Ishgard."
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