Chapter Text
“X’zholu,” says Estinien, and she can’t help the smirk at the exasperation in his voice, “what have you dragged me all the way out here for?”
The sun is high in the sky, the waves are loud beneath their feet, and they are still stuck in Sharlayan—and the both of them, Zo knows, are chafing from it. She wants out of the land of stuffy academia.
Still. There’s something she has to do, first.
“You’re leaving,” she says. It’s not a guess; Estinien’s as lone a wolf as he’s always been. Now that the world is no longer ending…she has no doubts he’ll be swiftly on his way.
Estinien quirks a brow, before looking about the currently empty dock she’s led him to. “Going to shove me off on a ship personally, are you? That eager to be rid of me?”
Zo laughs. “No, nothing like that, you silly boy.” She sits down, letting her legs dangle over the dock. If the tide were high, her feet would be dipping into the water, but as low as it is right now, she’s free to kick them through empty air. She pats the worn, salt-damp wood next to her invitingly. “I just have something I want to give you before you go.”
Estinien tilts his head at her inquisitively, but sits without further questions or protest. It’s still a little weird to see him without the armour, but the ponytail does suit him, which Zo remarks on as she reaches up a hand to tug on it teasingly. He rolls his eyes, because Twelve forbid he ever be cute or sweet back to her.
“What’s this gift, then?”
“Well, it’s not really a gift,” Zo hedges. “Do you remember back when we first met?”
“My memory is not that bad,” Estinien says. “Of course I do. Why?”
“You’re the one who taught me to wield a lance. Properly, at least. Without you, I never would have made it as far as I did.”
Estinien brushes her off. “You were a natural, Zo.”
She shushes him. “You taught me something that I needed. Now, it’s my turn to teach you.”
“And what is it I need, X’zholu?” His eyes are dark, and his voice low, but Zo baps him on the head because that’s not the sort of favour she’s doing for him here—though she wouldn’t be against the idea. Just—later.
“If you’re going to go gallivanting off by yourself again,” she says, and the smirk is back, and Estinien leans away from her warily, as he should, “I’m going to make sure you can survive whatever trouble you get into while you’re out there on your lonesome.”
And then she pulls out her White Mage job stone, and relishes in the mute horror Estinien radiates at her.
“No,” he says, and makes to stand. Zo tugs him down so that he can’t.
“Yes,” she says, and pulls out a knife as well. “Don’t worry! We’ll start with small wounds.”
The panic in Estinien’s eyes says he is absolutely worrying. He’s a big baby. Zo won’t be giving him more than papercuts!