Chapter Text
Aymeric's resolve was rapidly failing him.
It was spring in Coerthas, but a chill lingered in the air when Aymeric and his company were sent into the highlands after reports of Dravanian activity. All in all, it was a perfectly regular assignment to which Aymeric would have ordinarily given little special thought. But the tension between him and Estinien had been steadily burning, occupying near every waking bell of his days, and Aymeric could not shake the feeling that with the two of them in close proximity on the mission, something was going to occur that would fan it into an uncontrollable wildfire.
Aymeric was all too aware that his friend carried some manner of feelings for him, now. He could feel the prickle of his friend's gaze on him, nearly every time he was in his presence, single-minded as ever and threatening to break him. Estinien was undergoing further preparation for his induction into the Knights Dragoon, which at least gave Aymeric a reprieve during much of the day, but he had never wanted to avoid his friend completely. Many of their evenings together had been spent with Aymeric in half a daze, his heart pounding with every glance and brush of their shoulders at the dinner table, his eyes so often landing on his friend’s lips that he was sure he would be confronted at any moment, yet Estinien never said a word to him. And now they would be out on assignment for weeks, spending each night in the same tent, and Aymeric’s heart felt fit to burst.
He did his best to repeat his arguments to himself before they set off, trying in vain once more to ingrain his resolve into his being. It would only hurt Estinien more to make him believe he could get what he wanted from Aymeric only to immediately tear it away, and it would hurt Aymeric more to be rejected than enduring the current ache of unresolved ardor in his chest. If it were a sin to falsely profess one's feelings simply for a chance in another's bed, surely the reverse was true as well. Aymeric had reasoned it out very carefully, and yet his heart was having none of it. Each time Estinien’s eyes met his own, it lurched treacherously in his chest and threatened to overwhelm him. Yet he could not keep his own eyes off of his friend either, and found his gaze sliding towards him far too many times without realizing what he was doing as they marched through the Coerthan valleys with their company.
The fact that he was to be Estinien’s tentmate, as the only one with whom the man got along, filled him with equal measures of anticipation and dread. In the Congregation there were precious few moments for them to spend alone, much less sleeping a mere fulm apart. It was a small mercy that the day of marching had been so exhausting that they settled into their bedrolls soon after taking dinner, sparing Aymeric the need to maintain his calm facade. He turned away from his friend as quiet settled over the camp for the night, hoping sleep would take him quickly.
Unfortunately, his mind had not heard his request. As he tried to relax his body, his thoughts raced through his head and prevented him from falling into his dreams. They were all of Estinien, of course. The way his eyes felt boring into Aymeric’s back, sending prickles in waves through his limbs; the way he lit up bodily with eagerness when a pair of wyverns had been sighted ahead, each of his muscles straining with the need to fight. Everything he did drove Aymeric closer to madness, the tension between them so thick it could nearly be felt in the air, and only heightened by their current proximity. Did Estinien feel it as well? Did he ache as Aymeric did to roll over, to cross the scant distance between their bodies to gather his friend into his arms? Aymeric was at his limits, an ilm away from throwing all the caution he had carefully built up to the winds, yet each time he imagined how Estinien’s lips would feel against his own if he simply turned over and kissed him, his treacherous mind also supplied a vision of his friend’s features twisted in derision as Aymeric tried to explain himself. You are ever a fool , the Estinien in his mind said. I care not for such sentimentality. If you cannot give me what I desire, I will find another. Even the idea of it was enough to put a crack into his heart and stay his hand from reaching across the tent to clasp that of his companion.
Aymeric began to despair as time passed and rest yet eluded him. Just as he was about to get up and slip out for a discreet breath of fresh air, his ears caught the soft sound of fabric moving from the bedroll behind his back. Something in him told him to keep still, to let Estinien believe he was asleep, and he counted his breaths to keep them steady while hardly knowing why. His friend was likely just restless, plagued by his own troubled memories, and would settle soon enough, just as he should settle now. And yet… his eyes fluttered open, his body tensing with a sense of foreboding.
“ Aymeric… ”
Estinien’s sigh was low, muffled, yet the sound of it hit Aymeric like a bolt of levin. He lay utterly still on his own bedroll, hardly daring to even breathe. Surely it wasn’t what he suspected it was. Estinien was simply talking in his sleep, or he had misheard him, or any number of other things.
He had only a moment for the thought to sit in his mind before it was dashed. The soft sound of skin on skin, a hitch in his friend’s breath before a bitten-back moan issued forth. It was unmistakable. Estinien was pleasuring himself, and not simply for relief, but with Aymeric’s own name on his lips.
Aymeric’s face burned, each second bearing inadvertent witness to such a private thing stretching into an eternity. It was not simply the act itself, but the way his own name continued to slip from Estinien’s lips. He knew it was wrong to overhear such a thing, that he should alert him that he was not sleeping, but he was frozen in place as his friend’s breaths came harder and the sounds of his hand on his flesh sped up. Each soft groan and sigh made his own heart beat faster, until with one last longing cry of Aymeric , strained and breathless, Estinien finished.
Aymeric stared unseeing into the darkness, thoughts all in disarray as his friend cleaned himself and settled. Estinien appeared to be asleep within minutes, his breathing soft and steady, but Aymeric had no inkling of how many bells passed before he slept as well.
The next day was unbearable. Aymeric did his best to distance himself as much as he could without letting his friend know something was amiss. He slipped from the tent before dawn broke fully, having tossed and turned the rest of the night, and forged ahead in the company on the pretext of rotating scouting duty rather than march beside his friend. And yet no matter how far from Estinien he managed to get, the sound of his voice in the night replayed over and over in his mind. The way that, even at the volume of a whisper, his name was said with such reverence and want threatened to squeeze his heart in two. The way Estinien’s breath had shaken… was it simply due to his arousal, or did Aymeric dare to hope that his emotions ran so deeply to have that effect on him? And if they did, could Aymeric take the chance of making his own feelings known? If he did not, could he reconcile the fact that it was his own presence putting Estinien through such heartache?
Night fell, camp was set up, and finally, finally they were alone. Estinien was all too quick to strip off his mail, tossing it unceremoniously into the corner of their tent before dropping to his bedroll with a grunt of relief. Aymeric’s fingers fumbled with the clasps of his own armor, a slight tremble of anxiety causing him to miss the movements. He could feel Estinien’s eyes on him once more, and felt deep within that he could not endure it any longer. His longing, his guilt, his affection… it was overflowing, and the only way to release it was with his words.
Once he had finally managed to remove his haubergeon, he turned slowly to face his friend. A small lamp burned within the tent, providing barely enough light to see by and throwing Estinien’s face into shadow, but his eyes were as bright as ever. His brow furrowed as Aymeric looked at him without speaking, but he offered no words of his own, merely leaning back on his hands to wait.
Aymeric could already feel the embarrassment twisting within him at what he had to say, and found himself unable to speak while looking into Estinien’s curious eyes. He turned his head slightly away and opened his lips, feeling as if he were about to blindly jump off a cliff with only a prayer to the Fury to save him.
"Estinien, my apologies, but... I cannot keep it to myself any longer. I was awake the other night. when you…" He trailed off, a flush warming the ends of his ears, unable to say the word for what he had inadvertently witnessed. He took in a breath, expecting to hear the tent tear open at any moment while Estinien ran headlong into the night, yet no sound at all came from where his friend lay. After a long moment of silence, Aymeric forced his gaze back towards him, worry beginning to simmer in his stomach.
Estinien had gone so still and quiet that Aymeric half-wondered if he truly had managed to kill the man on the spot. He chanced a glance at his friend’s face, and found it flushed a deeper shade than he had ever seen in the dim lamplight. His narrow lips opened and shut again and again before sound came out.
"Shite!” he hissed, tense muscles beginning to tremble visibly. “Fuck. Halone's tits, Aymeric, I… you weren't supposed to--"
Aymeric’s heart hurt, and he stopped him before he could fluster himself further. "My friend, there is naught for you to apologize for, if that is what you intend to do."
"Oh." Estinien’s face was still bright with embarrassment, but his brow knotted together in a question as he searched Aymeric’s eyes. “Truly?” A breath of a word, hardly audible, but filled with so much hope that Aymeric’s heart ached.
"Yes. I… I am not offended by your desires." Heat lingered on Aymeric's own face as he spoke, choosing each word with care. There was no going back now, and anxiety began to twist in his chest. Now was the time to find out if Estinien desired only physical pleasure, or if his closed-off heart would accept the love that Aymeric ached to give him.
Estinien pushed himself upwards, his eyes locked on Aymeric as he moved to stand, but Aymeric held up a hand. "Please, my friend, I request that you let me finish. I do not wish to presume the extent of what you feel for me. If you want nothing more than for me to warm your bed, you may say as such. But as for my feelings, Estinien… However naive it might sound, I wish to know you not just in body, but in mind and heart as well." Aymeric’s voice was steady, but inside his chest his heart pounded strong enough to give him a touch of lightheadedness. "What I feel for you is not a passing fancy or lust that would burn to nothing after our coupling. I wish to… to be allowed to love you."
Estinien’s eyes had gone wide and his lips were parted as he searched Aymeric’s face. "Fury's sake, Aymeric. You're... my only friend. I did not intend to deceive you. I only wished not to ruin the one small happiness I have stumbled upon with my desires." His eyes flickered away for a moment before meeting Aymeric’s gaze once more, and he swallowed. "But Halone herself will damn me if I pretend to be knowledgeable in matters of... love." His flush had not dissipated an onze, staining his cheeks and ears a lovely pink in the dim light.
Aymeric’s heartbeat was still racing, yet he began to feel lighter as the moments passed and Estinien failed to flee the tent entirely. He smiled, gazing into those eyes that captivated him, feeling as if he had finally secured permission to do so, and lowered himself to sit upon his own bedroll. "My friend, I am not asking for your hand in marriage. Merely that you will allow me to enjoy your company."
"Enjoy my company?" An incredulous smirk twisted Estinien’s mouth. “I'm sure everyone in this camp can attest that I am terrible company."
Aymeric’s heart ached at the self-deprecating words. "Estinien, please. I cherish your company. It is one of the few things that make me happy in these days of trials and hardship."
Estinien sighed, looking away once more, clearly disinclined to believe him. "We are going around in circles. I would have you speak plainly, Aymeric. Are you telling me to keep my hands to myself? I will respect your wishes, no matter what they are."
Aymeric’s heart squeezed tight at the look in his friend’s eyes. Would he still feel the same once he knew what Aymeric’s true wishes were? There was no avoiding it, however, and he spoke carefully. "I would be your lover, Estinien, if you would have me. But it is important to me that I first explain… that if we were to engage in activities of the flesh--"
Estinien interrupted with an exasperated grunt. “Would you just say the word fucking? Fury's sake."
It was Aymeric’s turn to sigh, though he could not help but feel fond at the exasperation on his friend’s face. "If we were to… make love, then I must first be sure of your understanding that I...“ He trailed off, words faltering as he ran up against the bulk of the issue, the wall within his mind preventing his next words from forming..
He took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly through his nose. This was it, the final chance to turn back. To find something else to say, and avoid the pain of rejection. But it needed to be said, and he had already come this far. He steeled himself, squeezing his hands into fists to stop the light trembling that had broken out as he prepared to bare his very soul to Estinien, and opened his mouth to speak. “I do not feel the same lust that you do, Estinien. I never have, not for any man or woman. I am not… not opposed to sating your lust, but it is not the act itself I desire. It matters not to me whether we make love or simply lie in one another’s arms. But I do feel desire of a kind for you. Desire to be close, to be intimate, to know you in ways I have never known another. I admit… I have wanted such things for some time, and I apologize for keeping it from you. But if it is mutual passion you desire, I am afraid I will be a poor companion to you, and so I have said nothing until now."
A silence settled over the both of them, even as Aymeric’s heart beat loud in his ears. He had finally put voice to the feelings that had festered within for so long. It was somewhat of a relief to merely say them, making them real and certain, but his muscles were still tense as he waited for Estinien to respond. At the very least, they had no more secrets between them. He chanced a look at his friend’s face and found him still, a contemplative set to his mouth as he ran the cloth of his blanket between his fingers.
"I cannot pretend to know how it is not to feel lust," Estinien said at last, slowly, as if he were weighing each word on his tongue as he spoke. “At times I feel too much of it…’tis rather distracting.” A wry smile twisted his lips. “I do not understand you, Aymeric, but I believe your words. ‘Tis nothing I have ever heard, but I would have you as you are.”
He looked away, lips pressed together as his grip on the blanket tightened. “I… desire more than just a fuck from you as well, but this damnable war… I fear what a weakness it may be to give my heart to another.” His voice dropped as he spoke, his final words coming out barely above a whisper.
Aymeric reached out, crossing the distance between them to grasp Estinien’s hand in his own. His friend put up no resistance as he was touched, a renewed blush blooming on his cheeks as Aymeric wound their fingers together. His skin was warm, and though his palm was calloused from lancework, the way it slid against Aymeric’s own sent a ripple of contentment through his body.
“I would have you regardless,” he said. “Let us not let anger and violence steal even more of the happiness we could share. And let us continue to fight alongside one another, to ensure that neither of us will fall.” He squeezed Estinien’s hand with a smile, and the last of the weights on his heart lifted as his friend… or perhaps his lover, now, smiled in return.
"Now,” Estinien said, leaning in until only a few scant ilms remained between them. “Can I kiss those damned lips of yours?"
His mouth was just as sweet as Aymeric had imagined.
Aymeric opened his eyes as the camp awoke around them, more relaxed and content than he had been in moons. Warmer, too, entirely due to the veritable furnace of a man that curled in his arms and had yet to even stir despite the shouts and clanking of armor that broke the stillness of the morning.
He could not resist raising a hand to Estinien’s smooth cheek in an affectionate caress. He had seen many expressions on his new lover’s face in the time he had known him– the cocky smile during their sparring sessions, the fiery rage when his focus was on one of their enemies in battle, the uncomfortable frown when most any knight other than Aymeric was talking to him. But he had never seen such a peaceful look on his features before, and it captivated him. Perhaps one day, if they fought hard enough, the war would end and he could bear witness to such a lovely sight each morning. A far-fetched dream, to be sure, but a beautiful one to hold onto.
Estinien’s pale lashes fluttered at Aymeric’s continued touch, his eyes fogged with sleep as they opened and their gazes met. As Aymeric watched, breathless, a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lover’s lips and melted the last vestiges of his worry away. Estinien wouldn’t run at the first opportunity, and his words from the previous night had not been an error of judgment. He had chosen to stay in Aymeric’s arms, and continued to choose it with every heartbeat that passed.
Aymeric smiled in return, his heart filling steadily with bright, warm hope. It certainly would not be easy to love another in war, but no matter what they were to face on their respective paths, they had already accepted one another in full. He would never have to feel out of place with the rest of the world again.