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Sneaking into the infirmary of the Congregation of Our Knights Most Holy was far easier a task than Meledi had expected. More so because behind the door she sought was their commander himself.
Freshly reunited with Thancred, she and the other Scions had returned triumphantly to Ishgard. While gladdend she had not had to fight Ravana a second time, she was a bit confused and worried by the appearance of the Warriors of Darkness. It had felt too convient a meeting…
Her pondering had come to an abrupt halt when she had been waylaid by Artoirel soon after they returned to the stone city.
“Lady Meledi!” Artoirel came to a halt, panting lightly as he took in her appearance. “I am ever so glad to see you.”
“And who would this be?” Meledi heard Thancred asking behind, but she ignored it, knowing that Alphinaud would take care of any explanations.
“Artoirel, what happened?” She asked, worry taking over. Had something happened to Uncle Edmont? There didn’t seem anything amiss at first glance, but then she spotted the Temple Knights. There were more stationed around the city than before.
“Please, not here. At the manor, your companion may come with.”He shot a glance at Thancred, but Meledi paid it no mind. The journey to Manor Fortemps was short, yet felt like an eternity.The nagging feeling growing in the pit of her stomach was making her queasy and she wished that Artoirel would just come out with it. She didn’t wait for Thancred or Alphinaud and rushed into the parlor, breathing a bit easier when she spotted Uncle Edmont talking to Emmanellain, a grave expression on his face.
“Ah, Meledi, glad to see you w-“ Edmont was cut off when Meledi crossed the room and embraced the older man. He stilled for a moment before he returned the embrace quickly. “Worry not, child, I am well.”
“Then what is going on? Why did Artoirel come to greet me at the airship landing?”
While Edmont took a moment to consider his words, Emmanellain just blurted it out. “Lord Aymeric was attacked, stabbed. He… He.”
It took a second to register the words. She felt dizzy, this had to be a joke. She somehow knew Alphinaud had rushed to her side, the one person to hold her upright. No way, no way, Aymeric was …
“You fool! Lady Meledi, he is alive.” Artoirel had shot his younger brother a glare that promised his own death before turning to the distraught Meledi. “He was stabbed in the stomach, but was rushed to the infirmary in time. The chirgeons are with him right now.”
“He should make a full recovery, my dear.” Edmont had taken her by the arm and guided her to the sofa’s near the fireplace. He slowly coaxed her to sit down, worried about the pale tone of her skin.
“Truly?” Meledi asked, clutching the former count’s arm tightly.
“Most assuredly. I suspect they will have him fixed up in no time. Although, I suspect my words might not be enough to soothe your worries.”
“They won’t allow any visitors for the Lord Commander. I asked Ser Handeloupe, but he and Ser Lucia want to limit who had access to Lord Aymeric as he recovers.” Artoirel sighed. “Not to mention that the attacker also threatened you, my lady. And he has not been caught yet. Ser Aymeric asked us to keep you safe in the meantime.”
“I can take care of myself.” Meledi bristled, anger running hot through her veins. She would not let someone force her into hiding. Not again.
“As did Ser Aymeric.” Alphinaud softly spoke.”Please, let the knights handle it, let them chase down the attacker. If not for your own, but ours.”
Deflating, Meledi looked at Alphinaud. He too was pale, but his eyes were determined, strong. She shifted her gaze down to the floor. That… That was true. Aymeric could handle himself. And yet he had almost gotten killed in his own city.
“I… Very well. I will not be foolish.”
“Mayhaps it would be a good time for you to rest a while. I will send someone to you when we receive word about the Lord Commander or the attacker.” Edmont patted her on the hand gently before she nodded and got up. She softly bid the others goodbye, before walking out of the room, wrapping her arms tightly around her.
“This Aymeric. He means a lot to the Warrior, does he not?” Thancred asked after the door had closed. He had not seen her so heartbroken. Not after the Scions had been taken by the Garleans, not during their escape from Ul’dah. Nor had he seen her so at ease with people, Edmont, Artoirel, Alphinaud, even Emmanellain. Her bonds with the citizens of Ishgard were a lot stronger than her bonds with the Scions had ever been.
He had missed much in his absence.
“Meledi. Her name is Meledi.” Alphinaud corrected absentmindedly, distracted by the scolding Emmanellain was receiving from his father. “I should bring you up to speed with the events since we escaped Ul’dah.”
While Meledi had promised to not pursue Aymeric’s attacker, she had not promised to stay at the manor. Which is why she now found herself outside the room Aymeric was resting in.
She reached for the doorknob, hesitating a moment. What she was doing was selfish. If the others discovered her absence at the manor, well, she better start praying to Nald’thal for a gentle passage. She could only imagine the lecture Alphinaud would give her, before handing her off to Uncle Edmont. Still it didn’t stop her from pressing forward. She needed to know he was alright. Safe, breathing, alive.
The door opened silently and Meledi stepped through, closing it behind her just as silently. The light from the moon was the only light in the room, but Meledi had no trouble finding the bed. She breathed a little easier when she spotted Aymeric lying on it.
She leaned over, reassured to see his chest rising and falling, albeit a bit unsteady. It was no wonder, looking at the bandages wrapped around his torso. Slightly hidden beneath his open tunic, she clenched her fists at the sight of them. Tight and slightly spoiled with blood. His blood. She immediately quelled the flash of anger at their sight, it would not help her. Or him.
Spotting the chair set next to his bed and the coat rack nearby, Meledi set her rapier up against the wall and shed her winter coat and gloves. It was rather convenient, considering she knew from experience that such items were not normally supplied.
Taking the chair, she set it as close as possible to the bed before taking a seat. The chair was rather comfortable, and somehow Meledi knew she had been expected. Lucia probably.
She didn’t know how much time she spent just staring at Aymeric. Basking in hearing his breathing, being able to see his face.
When Haurchefant died… She had felt rage, anger, a desire to avenge his death beneath the well of grief. It had sustained her through it all, and had driven her to greater heights. She could function, even if she had been burdened by grief.
While the situation with Estinien was different, she had still felt the grief at her friend being taken by the eyes. By Nidhogg’s malevolent will. She was determined to make it right, and return the wayward dragoon to Ishgard.
But the mere thought of Aymeric being dead... She had felt so lost. So broken. Like she had been unable to go on. Why had she felt that way? Why had she felt like her world had fallen apart?
She was broken out of her thoughts by a movement from Aymeric. His breathing had turned erratic, his brow frowning as he started tossing and turning. Without a thought Meledi shot forward, cupping his cheek with one hand, the other grabbing the nearest hand to her.
“Mel… safe...”
“Shhh, I am here. I am safe.” She whispered, intertwining her fingers with his. Her thumb slowly stroked over his cheekbone, trying to comfort him. “I’m here, Aym.”
His eyes opened for a moment, and Meledi felt her heart skip a beat. “Good.”
His blue eyes slowly slid shut and his breathing even out again. A fever dream? Meledi sat back in her chair, refusing to let go of his hand. Clasping both of her hands around his, she sat in silence watching him carefully. Once she was sure he was fast asleep again, she lowered her head to rest upon their intertwined hands.
Even when he was injured. Even when he was the one that got attacked. Even when it was him that needed someone… He still thought of her first.
A dam broke as the first tear fell from her eyes, and then another, and another. Her shoulders shook as she held on tighter to his hand. What a fool she was. She couldn’t, shouldn’t feel this way. Yet, even as she denied it to herself, she knew it to be true.
The need to flee filled her being, to deny, to avoid the mess that could be. However, his warmth, his very being, begged her to stay. Her heart begged her.
And so she stayed, clutching onto his hand. One night would be what she could have.
When he woke up the soreness he felt was all over, not just his torso. Groaning slightly at the sensation of the rising sun on his eyelids, he turned his head to the side before opening them.
He blinked once, twice, before he believed it was not just a hallucination. Meledi was half lying on his bed, half sitting in a chair, clutching his hand tightly. He could see the tear streaks on her face, and frowned at the sight of them. Untangling his hand slowly, he reached out to wipe them away, careful not to jostle her.
She murmured softly, moving her hand to lay over his. He smiled gently when she pressed her face against the palm of his hand. He closed his eyes again, knowing full well that when he opened them again, she would be gone. He couldn’t burden her with his feelings, not yet. This moment would have to be enough. For now.