The next morning Estinien is expecting some form of blowback. On a deeper level he knows nothing in his life that is good can come without Nymeia taking another thing as compensation for his happiness, and misery waits around every peaceful corner.
On a surface level, he knows Valdeaulin exists.
Strangely, the man does not lash out at them for conspiring to have sex on his watch. Estinien even barricades the watercloset door when he uses it just in case Valdeaulin decides to ambush him at his most vulnerable again, but the man gives no critique. Perhaps it's that Severa had words with him last night, or he had words with himself, but if anything the man seems completely disinterested in discussing who spent their night with who.
It's not until they reach the capitol proper that anyone gets time alone, regardless. With the civil war heating up it's surprisingly easy for them to slip in unnoticed, especially with an unmasked Gaius leading them, and they take shelter in an unoccupied building previously under the XIVth's occupancy. Estinien wears his hood loose over his ears and tight over his forehead, and broad as he is for an Elezen he at least can escape being picked out of the crowd. Less so for Valdeaulin, grumpily staying hidden with his facial tattoos giving the entire game away.
This was one of the compounds that were assigned to various Legions; an office for when a legatus was in the Capitol, and still needed to attend to the duties of his station. The Ist legion, always headed up by one of noble blood -- most recently High Legatus Varis yae Galvus, now Emperor. This one had been closed down for some time, locked and barred. However, they had not changed the locks-- or found all of Nero's hidden ways in and out, so it was easy to get access to it. All the windows were shuttered with iron, and there were still supplies here. Most of the food had long gone since bad but some of the things in the refrigeration units were still edible, if freezer burned.
There were also warm beds, and the officers suits heigher in the building -- four of them beloged to the command staff of the XIVth, and a couple were used for guests.
Gaius dumps his things in his old suite, and is pleased to find it wasn't looted. Like as not, most people thought there was nothing of value there. But there were warm clothes to wear.
"You two are a like size with Nero," he told the elezen, "so raid his things. Not like he's coming back for them."
Sevara gets a long look, and something is weighted in his heart-- grief versus need. Then he unlocks the door to Livia's room, and says, "My daughter was taller than you, but I'm sure you can find a warmer coat in her things."
Severa wrinkles her nose, but has the decency not to react further. Clothes are clothes, and they've looted enough on their way in here.
Estinien, halfway down the hall, hears that and files it away with more matters he will speak with Gaius about when the man is ready. Or never. He speaks of children every so often - of Cid, who Estinien is half-sure he's met but never took much mind of. Of the Au Ra in Werlyt. And yes, of Livia, though rarely and with the tone of regret.
Estinien feels a pang of...something he can't identify. A desire to protect, but not from enemies or cold. Something he has rarely felt move in his heart, and certainly not for a man who can clearly handle himself.
He sets himself up in Nero's room as instructed. The man has an appalling fondness for red, Estinien notes, and he goes out of his way to grab the shabbiest looking outfit in the room, pulling the hood up to hide his ears. There's scraps of notes around describing concepts and devices that Estinien couldn't begin to understand.
Gaius has no answers for anyone, as he is in his own room while the two elezen raid Nero's closet and Severa can deal with a dead woman's clothes. It is what it is, and he accepts that it will hurt to see her in whatever she drags out of there.
For himself, he is in a room full of memories. There's paperwork in the desk, letters from Midas, and replies that never got sent. Cid's Academic reports. All the things he had before Nero eventually became a Tribunus and took over one of the suites when he was sent to work in Gaius's stead from Ala Mhigo, and some things that came after. He had rarely been here in the last quarter century -- not at all in the last five years. Some things seem so far away now.
He is seeing what he has in his wardrobe after that, ignoring the armor stand that sits empty. His spare plate came with him to the front, after all.
Estinien snoops clandestinely. Most of what he finds are notes about events
and people he's got no knowledge of at all, or designs for machines that
seem impossible. While hunting for a decent pair of shoes at the back of
the closet he finds a small booklet commemorating Nero's graduation from
the academia, signed by several different hands.
There's a photo here too, several young men and several older ones standing
at proud attention before the camera. The very edge is torn, as if
someone's been about to rip it in half and then thought better of it.
Estinien glances at it as he tries to wiggle his feet into Nero's old
boots, stuffing the toes with extra socks, and notes that the child on the
far right, the one who has not one but two men there to support him, seems
familiar. And of the men behind him, one is far too familiar.
The child on the far left, gangly and blonde, is alone.
Estinien tucks the book into his satchel. Perhaps it is nothing, and
perhaps this Nero is long dead, along with all the boys who stood beside
him and all the men who stood beside Gaius. It still feels wrong to leave
it out for the carrion crows.
After a time, there's a knock on Gaius's office door.
Valdeaulin wouldn't knock, so Gaius feels safe in saying, "Enter."
Severa would do it out of vague politeness, and Estinien because he's not a fool -- he's seen the man barge in, but he's taken better care with Gaius, the longer they've known each other. He'd rather not examine that too hard lest he bring up some unpleasant questions and their answers, but he takes it as it is for now.
Clothing has been laid out -- under layers, mostly, to protect against the cold -- but not yet changed into. When it's Estinien that enters, he says, "How fared your search?"
Estinien is wearing Nero's least pretentious outfit, the kind he'd probably
only wear when everything else was dirty or torn. It wasn't even in his
signature red, aside from the dull crimson undershirt.
"Sufficient. Your man did love his scribblings, though." He closes the door
behind him and leans against it, watching the man on the bed.
Gaius cracks a half smile. The memory created no pain, and that was a rarity. Nero as a Tribunus was not tied to memories of loss -- just of work.
"Aye," he admits. "Putting him into command staff didn't make him any less an engineer. I'm sure he left notes and sketches everywhere. He'd get up in the middle of the night and put a design done before he forgot whatever it was he dreamed up."
"You'd known him before the army, then?" His eyes wander about the room,
trying to pull in pieces he can use to tell him more about this man. It
doesn't help that the presence of a bed stirs thoughts he's sure Gaius
wants none of, not in this sad and dusty space.
"Aye. He was a young genius - but so was my ward. My friend Midas, he was -- consumed by his work, so I took his son under my wing," Gaius said, indulging in some wistful nostalgia, pangs of feelings for easier, better days -- or days that he did not know the truth, before tragedy came to his door. "Made sure he had what he needed and was tended to. He and Nero both entered the Magitek Academy as prodigies. Normally it's a six year program for young scientists of eighteen summers, but they went in at twelve. They graded valedictorian and salutatorian, but Nero was never one to be satisfied. He joined the army as the only real route open for him, and eventually came into my service."
The rest doesn't matter; he doesn't want to talk about Cid right now, sitting in these rooms where he still has report cards stowed and letters from Midas in his desk drawers. Instead he looks at the walls; he has paintings -- landscapes, mostly, and one news print announcing the rise of a much younger Gaius van Baelsar to the rank of legatus, faded in its frame. He is terribly imposing in his new mask, Heirsbane held high for the photograph.
"Was he the short one?" Too bad if Gaius doesn't want to talk about Cid right now, because Estinien's pulling the little booklet from his jacket and handing it off to Gaius. Of course the man can know he looked through it, Estinien wouldn't think to lie about such things.
"Found this among Nero's things. Thought you should have it, or at least decide what to do with it."
The way Gaius speaks to Nero in past tense, Estinien isn't sure if the man is even alive.
"Cid is-- quite short for Garlean, yes," Gaius chuckled softly, remembering all of this with bittersweet fondness. It's like dark chocolate with too much cacao -- it's good, but can sometimes be overpoweringly bitter. "Both of his parents were -- mmm. Small of stature. The Minister of Industry for the Garlean empire, and his beloved wife, an advice columnist for one of the smaller papers in the city."
The photo from Nero's things, though, he just lifts his brows at. "I would leave this here. Nero's time in school was a bitter thing for him, and his rivalry with Cid equally so. They both believe me dead, and I doubt gifts of this nature when they learn otherwise won't be well received."
"Still. Seems a shame to throw away mementos of more peaceful times, even
if they've long since passed." Estinien has nothing to remember his family
by; Nidhogg burned their village to the ground. As to his mentor, he
remembers him only by the skills Alberic passed to him. Like most dragoons,
Alberic kept few possessions and did not expect to leave them to any heirs.
He sticks the book back in his jacket again, and does not say what he plans
to do with it. "And if they both still live, that is at least something."
"They do," Gaius said, and for a moment his voice is warm and affectionate, though it evens out. "Nero will likely stab with a screw driver for being in his things, let alone returning something I'm sure he had packed in the back of his closet."
At least Gaius keeps his strange regrets in his desk like a normal person.
"He's welcome to try. If it was not something he had any interest in, he wouldn't have kept it." He knows little about Nero beyond the tiny scraps he's picked up. Man sounds like an intellectual, so Estinien can't imagine they'd have much to talk about regardless.
"Is there anything in here you've been needing," Estinien asks, trying to change the subject now to something with less dark thoughts. It seems a shame, to have the man dwell on how little he's wanted. (Does he know he's wanted here? Estinien isn't sure.)
"Ammunition, clean smallclothes and a new shirt." Gaius said with a soft exhale, almost a chuckle. "Sleep, warmth."
He reaches out, palm turned up and open. An invitation, given in peace, seeking that warmth. "There are other beds, but-- I would prefer you stayed in mine."
Estinien knows he's one of Gaius's only options, is what he knows. A crust of bread to a starving man can seem like a feast. He knows he would not be so desirable were someone like Aymeric here, or any of Gaius's own people.
That does not mean Estinien won't take full advantage of the situation while it lasts. He takes the hand with a smile and steps through into Gaius's arms, laying his face against the man's cheek. "As would I. It's far warmer there than in mine," he says in his rough, quiet voice.
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2023-01-03 05:19 pm (UTC)On a surface level, he knows Valdeaulin exists.
Strangely, the man does not lash out at them for conspiring to have sex on his watch. Estinien even barricades the watercloset door when he uses it just in case Valdeaulin decides to ambush him at his most vulnerable again, but the man gives no critique. Perhaps it's that Severa had words with him last night, or he had words with himself, but if anything the man seems completely disinterested in discussing who spent their night with who.
It's not until they reach the capitol proper that anyone gets time alone, regardless. With the civil war heating up it's surprisingly easy for them to slip in unnoticed, especially with an unmasked Gaius leading them, and they take shelter in an unoccupied building previously under the XIVth's occupancy. Estinien wears his hood loose over his ears and tight over his forehead, and broad as he is for an Elezen he at least can escape being picked out of the crowd. Less so for Valdeaulin, grumpily staying hidden with his facial tattoos giving the entire game away.
no subject
Date: 2023-01-03 07:23 pm (UTC)There were also warm beds, and the officers suits heigher in the building -- four of them beloged to the command staff of the XIVth, and a couple were used for guests.
Gaius dumps his things in his old suite, and is pleased to find it wasn't looted. Like as not, most people thought there was nothing of value there. But there were warm clothes to wear.
"You two are a like size with Nero," he told the elezen, "so raid his things. Not like he's coming back for them."
Sevara gets a long look, and something is weighted in his heart-- grief versus need. Then he unlocks the door to Livia's room, and says, "My daughter was taller than you, but I'm sure you can find a warmer coat in her things."
no subject
Date: 2023-01-07 04:51 pm (UTC)Estinien, halfway down the hall, hears that and files it away with more matters he will speak with Gaius about when the man is ready. Or never. He speaks of children every so often - of Cid, who Estinien is half-sure he's met but never took much mind of. Of the Au Ra in Werlyt. And yes, of Livia, though rarely and with the tone of regret.
Estinien feels a pang of...something he can't identify. A desire to protect, but not from enemies or cold. Something he has rarely felt move in his heart, and certainly not for a man who can clearly handle himself.
He sets himself up in Nero's room as instructed. The man has an appalling fondness for red, Estinien notes, and he goes out of his way to grab the shabbiest looking outfit in the room, pulling the hood up to hide his ears. There's scraps of notes around describing concepts and devices that Estinien couldn't begin to understand.
no subject
Date: 2023-01-07 06:16 pm (UTC)For himself, he is in a room full of memories. There's paperwork in the desk, letters from Midas, and replies that never got sent. Cid's Academic reports. All the things he had before Nero eventually became a Tribunus and took over one of the suites when he was sent to work in Gaius's stead from Ala Mhigo, and some things that came after. He had rarely been here in the last quarter century -- not at all in the last five years. Some things seem so far away now.
He is seeing what he has in his wardrobe after that, ignoring the armor stand that sits empty. His spare plate came with him to the front, after all.
no subject
Date: 2023-01-09 02:30 pm (UTC)Estinien snoops clandestinely. Most of what he finds are notes about events and people he's got no knowledge of at all, or designs for machines that seem impossible. While hunting for a decent pair of shoes at the back of the closet he finds a small booklet commemorating Nero's graduation from the academia, signed by several different hands.
There's a photo here too, several young men and several older ones standing at proud attention before the camera. The very edge is torn, as if someone's been about to rip it in half and then thought better of it. Estinien glances at it as he tries to wiggle his feet into Nero's old boots, stuffing the toes with extra socks, and notes that the child on the far right, the one who has not one but two men there to support him, seems familiar. And of the men behind him, one is far too familiar.
The child on the far left, gangly and blonde, is alone.
Estinien tucks the book into his satchel. Perhaps it is nothing, and perhaps this Nero is long dead, along with all the boys who stood beside him and all the men who stood beside Gaius. It still feels wrong to leave it out for the carrion crows.
After a time, there's a knock on Gaius's office door.
no subject
Date: 2023-01-09 02:42 pm (UTC)Severa would do it out of vague politeness, and Estinien because he's not a fool -- he's seen the man barge in, but he's taken better care with Gaius, the longer they've known each other. He'd rather not examine that too hard lest he bring up some unpleasant questions and their answers, but he takes it as it is for now.
Clothing has been laid out -- under layers, mostly, to protect against the cold -- but not yet changed into. When it's Estinien that enters, he says, "How fared your search?"
no subject
Date: 2023-01-09 04:16 pm (UTC)Estinien is wearing Nero's least pretentious outfit, the kind he'd probably only wear when everything else was dirty or torn. It wasn't even in his signature red, aside from the dull crimson undershirt.
"Sufficient. Your man did love his scribblings, though." He closes the door behind him and leans against it, watching the man on the bed.
no subject
Date: 2023-01-09 04:52 pm (UTC)"Aye," he admits. "Putting him into command staff didn't make him any less an engineer. I'm sure he left notes and sketches everywhere. He'd get up in the middle of the night and put a design done before he forgot whatever it was he dreamed up."
no subject
Date: 2023-01-13 02:42 pm (UTC)"You'd known him before the army, then?" His eyes wander about the room, trying to pull in pieces he can use to tell him more about this man. It doesn't help that the presence of a bed stirs thoughts he's sure Gaius wants none of, not in this sad and dusty space.
no subject
Date: 2023-01-13 03:27 pm (UTC)The rest doesn't matter; he doesn't want to talk about Cid right now, sitting in these rooms where he still has report cards stowed and letters from Midas in his desk drawers. Instead he looks at the walls; he has paintings -- landscapes, mostly, and one news print announcing the rise of a much younger Gaius van Baelsar to the rank of legatus, faded in its frame. He is terribly imposing in his new mask, Heirsbane held high for the photograph.
no subject
Date: 2023-01-17 12:56 am (UTC)"Found this among Nero's things. Thought you should have it, or at least decide what to do with it."
The way Gaius speaks to Nero in past tense, Estinien isn't sure if the man is even alive.
no subject
Date: 2023-01-23 02:17 pm (UTC)The photo from Nero's things, though, he just lifts his brows at. "I would leave this here. Nero's time in school was a bitter thing for him, and his rivalry with Cid equally so. They both believe me dead, and I doubt gifts of this nature when they learn otherwise won't be well received."
no subject
Date: 2023-01-23 03:09 pm (UTC)"Still. Seems a shame to throw away mementos of more peaceful times, even if they've long since passed." Estinien has nothing to remember his family by; Nidhogg burned their village to the ground. As to his mentor, he remembers him only by the skills Alberic passed to him. Like most dragoons, Alberic kept few possessions and did not expect to leave them to any heirs.
He sticks the book back in his jacket again, and does not say what he plans to do with it. "And if they both still live, that is at least something."
no subject
Date: 2023-02-08 09:36 pm (UTC)At least Gaius keeps his strange regrets in his desk like a normal person.
no subject
Date: 2023-02-08 09:49 pm (UTC)"Is there anything in here you've been needing," Estinien asks, trying to change the subject now to something with less dark thoughts. It seems a shame, to have the man dwell on how little he's wanted. (Does he know he's wanted here? Estinien isn't sure.)
no subject
Date: 2023-02-10 05:59 pm (UTC)He reaches out, palm turned up and open. An invitation, given in peace, seeking that warmth. "There are other beds, but-- I would prefer you stayed in mine."
Does Estinien know he's wanted?
no subject
Date: 2023-02-10 06:59 pm (UTC)That does not mean Estinien won't take full advantage of the situation while it lasts. He takes the hand with a smile and steps through into Gaius's arms, laying his face against the man's cheek. "As would I. It's far warmer there than in mine," he says in his rough, quiet voice.