Heavy
Estinien x WoL/Reader / 5.4k words / Hurt/Comfort / Injuries / Established Relationship / Implied Sexual Content
Muscles ached, blisters split, and I tried with all my might not to wince at the sting of leather clinging to the shallow cuts littered about my spine. Scythe still in tow, I focused my remaining strength on getting through the door without scraping the wood with the all-but-dried blood caking its curved blade; anything to avoid Tataru’s rare but fearsome fury. Calls of my name and “ You’ve returned! ” echoed through the cozy corridors of what I now deemed ‘home’. Thancred whistled and clicked his tongue, “Wow. You look like shit.” He sat across from Urianger where a deck of cards was sprawled over the bar between them.
It was never quite as much home as it had been in the past, given how the scions had decided to chart separate paths to make up for opportunities once lost. And considering said circumstances, it was only right for me to preserve my enthusiasm when they did choose to drop in like this. Rare, but always more than welcome.
“What a lovely way to greet a tired friend you’ve not seen in weeks. And what of Ryne and Gaia?” I inquired. “Our youthful maidens wouldst likely beest somewh’re out wh’re floweth’rs bloom at their fee— Prayeth bid… are thee well?” Urianger piped up and finally took a gander at me for himself, unable to hold his tongue either.
Truthfully, in an effort to leave my friends to their own endeavors, I had been filling my plate to the brim with commissions as a means of distraction. My own reckless, stubborn heart was wreaking havoc on my bones day by day, but I could not impede their peace. Not even… his.
I shifted on my heels in discomfort, silently praying they would change the subject. “Just… had a bit of a tumble with a rather frenzied wyvern. Took me on a detour down a fairly jagged cliff, is all. Gods know I have been dealt plenty worse over the years, ha.” Y’shtola appeared from the west wing with a sharp gasp, “Gods, you look dreadful. Tataru, where are the medical supplies?”
“It seems we have a full house,” I remarked. My expression softened at the sight of my oldest companions in one room after too long apart. Of course, he would not show so easily. “Ah, speaking of which, someone hast await'd thine arrival f'r two dawns with not an ounce of patience. That gent pac'd outside thy doth'r liketh a metronome throughout the night,” Urianger relayed too casually. “Estini— ah . Estinien is here?!” His unannounced arrival shocked me enough to strain an already tender rib, giving way to a hushed, but still audible cry.
“Speak of the devil…” Thancred and Urianger’s gaze shifted suddenly, then pretended to be preoccupied with their game after catching sight of the figure barreling toward me from behind. With a rough tug, Estinien pulled me by the wrist at what would be an alarming speed if they, myself included, were not already accustomed to his brusque, wordless ways. Tataru and Y’shtola returned just as we departed. The sorceress rolled her eyes and protested, “Could he have at least taken the bandages and medicine along with his tantrum? Such a caveman…”
Gazing at his back was not unlike gazing at the moon. Silver starlight pooled from his crown, dripping tendrils like constellations down wrinkled black linen. Estinien made a beeline for his quarters without a single glance back, only tugging me behind like stolen luggage. He was like this nearly half the time we met, with no manners to speak of. I could only decide to find some strange charm in his ways.
Once we reached his room, the door clicked and I chose to break the silence, “Well, hello to you too.” Estinien turned and glared in my direction. In two short strides, he stood before me, scanning head to toe for signs of fresh blood. “If you aim to scold me once more, must you do it behind closed quarters?” I teased him once more. With that same look of annoyance, he held my gaze, roughly rolling up my sleeves to uncover a litter of shallow cuts and bruises. My nose wrinkled at the cold air fanning the tiny slits in my forearm. With a low growl simmering beneath his words, he inquired, “How bad?” I refused to back down and look away even as his scarred palms patted their way up my shoulders and paused if only for a moment. Without warning, he tugged my collar, exposing the feathering ink-stained skin stretched out from neck to collarbone under a bandage caked in dried blood. There was no hiding the pain by then no matter how I tried to laugh it off, “Ha, you… Nothing a few salves and potions cannot fix, I promise. A—” Estinien pressed into the wound ever-so-slightly and I felt a searing jolt in my flesh, “ Fuck , all right. After tomorrow’s mission, I will lighten my load for a bit. Happy?” Despite my surrender, his expression remained unchanged. Ever the sourpuss.
With a turn of his heel, he walked toward the chest of drawers at his bedside, rummaging for a bit while I stood by curiously attempting to peer over his impossibly broad frame. Estinien threw the drawer shut and took me by the hand, more gently this time, and guided me to sit at the edge of his unkempt bed. He emptied a small velvet sack unto his open palm and reached his other hand to card through my hair at the side of my head. Scooting closer, he leaned in until our cheeks brushed, but his eyes were trained on what lie between his fingers as he fastened something to my ear.
When he tilted back, I felt for the piece wrapped around my helix. “What is this?”
Estinien tucked a fallen strand back behind my ear and trailed his fingers over mine before mirroring the action, exposing the silver ring hanging from his pointed ear tip. “These earrings bear Pellonia’s blessing. If ever you are hurt or in danger, the jewel embedded within acts as a beacon to let the pair’s other half know of your location. And since you cannot be arsed to refrain from going off on your own no matter the consequences, you leave me no choice,” he explained, all the while skating around every cut and bruise that lined my forearms with the pad of his finger. The gesture was ridiculous and overbearing. Yet, it made my chest swell. It was unexpectedly thoughtful, unlike some of his other gifts. And though neither of us cared to admit it, every day we spent apart, was in part spent agonizing over whether or not we’d next see one another still breathing the new dawn’s fresh air. We loved each other, maybe not in all the right words, but so deeply it tore through bone.
My expression fell soft against my will and so I masked it with a sly grin as I drew near, climbing over his lap to take his chin in my grasp. “My, my, Estinien. Once upon a time, your lance lusted after my throat, yet here you are…” He grimaced and furrowed his brows, “Do not tease me.” I released him with a mirthful chuckle and sat back on my haunches, moving to stand. “All it took were a few ugly bruises and sprains for matching earrings. I ought to get a headstart on my next brush with death. How much blood shall I spill for a rin— ah .” Estinien’s arm snaked around my waist and sharp teeth nibbled at the lobe of my ear, just below the glittering silver ring that matched his own. “Troublesome,” he muttered.
I craned my neck and brought my knuckles to his cheek, watching him nuzzle into my touch. Something of melancholy crossed my features while his eyes fluttered shut and I halfheartedly made a suggestion, “You could always leave.” The truth was that from the very start of us, I was petrified. Letting him waltz through my line of defenses as he had, allowing him to crash into me, sink into me… I feared for the world should I ever lose him someday. And what is a safe haven if it lies between the arms of the one who the gravest danger calls to even in their sleep?
But, Estinien didn’t run. His arms caged me in with fervor, determined to burn me into him. He dug his nose into the crook of my neck where the wounds were far less concerning and grumbled into my collarbone, “You speak such nonsense.” Because he would never walk away so easily, not without a proper fight. And knowing him, it would be to the death. A wistful smile cursed my lips and I leaned into his chest, reaching around to massage his scalp until he purred. “The same goes for you, you know. I lost you once, make no habit of it. Else I will be sure to pester you in the afterlife with great effort,” I threatened. Estinien’s purring quickly morphed into groans at the sheer idea of it, “Hells, Ysayle’s torment will be enough of a nightmare.”
A childish giggle took me and I shifted in his embrace to face him fully. Those perpetually sleepy greys followed my movements while I caressed him from cheek to ear, tucking away cloud-top tendrils. I gave the silver ring a flick and watched the jewel refract in the fading sunlight. Perched at his lobe, I sweetly whispered, “It suits you.” Estinien rolled his eyes and huffed, pinching just above my hips in protest. “Always beguiling.” My arms coiled around his neck, settling further into his lap until I was doused in the scent of mist lilies and cedarwood. “You are the pervert who takes my simplest compliments for seduction,” I taunted further, knowing the consequences well.
Estinien sunk his fangs into the dip just at the base of my throat where my collarbones came to meet and chuckled darkly at the sharp gasp that betrayed my composure. He laved at the mark and dragged his tongue agonizingly up to my jaw where he trailed an onslaught of open-mouth kisses until he reached my ear and nipped at the ring he placed there himself. With a smoldering breath, he exhaled the word, “Mine.”
Ever the responsible one, despite a rabid beast clawing its way through my insides, I tried to steer him away. “We have to set out early tomorrow. They will come looking for us soon.” He only continued his efforts to make dahlias bloom over every inch of me while muttering an unbothered, “So?” With an exasperated sigh, I attempted to pry him off to no avail as he interlaced his fingers with mine to halt my fussing. “Estinien,” I whined. At last, he unlatched himself and lifted his head with a lazy expression, “Hm?”
He had a warmth unlike a kiln, but like dying embers or hot coals left out in the snow. It always made me shiver, like goose feathers would sprout from my pores from the fanning of his breath alone. Maybe it was some remnant of his possession, like the scattered dragon scales embedded in his skin or the sharpened fangs… Or the way his pupils slit when he truly angered and that inhuman echo rumbled raw in his throat. No, he always felt like winter. A comforting chill; a distant flame.
My thumbs caressed the blue veins that ran like rivers under those tired eyes and drifted down the curved plane of his nose bridge until I was met with the divet of his cupid’s bow. “I crave you,” He confessed. I wore a lopsided grin, “Not good enough.” He nearly keened under my fingertips as I tangled them in his fringe, combing back the ivory strands that framed his face. “I need you,” He pleaded. Affection was oozing out of me while still playing coy, “Hardly convincing.” Estinien pressed his forehead into mine, lids fluttering closed for a moment with a sharp inhale.
“ I love you ,” he promised.
“Then, have me.”
The crimson dawns which crested the sky while our lungs met breast to breast, steady breathing strung together like what swelled beneath a harpsichord, were a gift most fond in my heart. Estinien pretended not to notice the tickle of my lashes at the hollow where his collarbones met, allowing me to relish in those serene moments we seldom had to ourselves alone. The sandman’s kiss of sweet slumber clung to heavy lids, but even so, my fingers strayed to twirl in the silvermist of Estinien’s hair. His lips would twitch, fighting the smile that threatened to expose his false shroud of unconsciousness, but we seemed to know each other far too well. I stifled a giggle as my other hand drifted lower to caress the scales embedded between each of his ribs, coaxing a bestial thrum out from the bellows of his chest. Scar-littered arms coiled tighter round my waist and that childish laugh at last escaped from behind my bitten tongue. “May you be more cautious with your touch, else we ever leave this bed, my dear partner.” His voice was brimstone, coarse with the remnants of a good night’s sleep.
Calloused fingers reached up to curl into my nape, Estinien’s thumb massaging the dip where he knew tension wove its most unforgiving knots. With a heaving sigh, I melted, ear pressed to his abdomen. And he loosened something in me I wished he had not, for a somber confession fell from my mouth with instant regret, “I fear that is becoming less of a threat as our trysts grow fewer and far between.”
Estinien knew when it was best to stay quiet, though I dredged up more words from his mouth than he ever cared to utter before we met. In his silence though, I could hear it. You could always choose yourself. You can choose to stay. When in truth, it was never my choice to make. So, I savored the press of a torn petal kiss to my forehead and the way he chose to get up first, against his own desires, just to pull me from my own dwelling thoughts.
We dressed one another with tender, at times wandering hands. Once Estinien was satisfied with the snug fit of my cuirass, I took to one knee and he plopped down on the ottoman at the foot of the bed. He tied his hair with leisure, intently watching the way I carefully fastened his greaves so that no opening could be found. My focus drifted to the heat of his gaze as I moved to start on his other leg, softly smiling into a chaste kiss at his shin. Just then, a resounding knock stole both sets of eyes toward the door. “Gods above and devils below, could you lovebirds get your asses out here? We have quite a long day ahead and I would surely like to see the end of it before next sunrise,” Thancred lamented from the hall. A huff of disdain flared Estinien’s nostrils and I rose to my feet with a light chuckle. Palm outstretched, I ushered him to join me. “Duty calls.”
What slithered from the ashes on the outskirts of Garlemald, born of hellsblood and dregs of dark sorcery, drilled an ill feeling through the marrows of my spine. It simmered within, leaving me dazed even amidst the welcome reunion of the twins and fair ladies in my embrace. Alphinaud boasted of his research upon his return to the Studium and the adventures that proceeded with Alisaie at his side. Though I looked upon those twinkling blues with pride, Estinien observed a sliver of absence in my gaze. His brow furrowed, for since the aversion of The Final Days, he had not seen a true glimpse of worry grace my countenance. I flinched at the sensation of his clawed gauntlets at my ear and glanced at his meaningful touch. Pellonia’s Blessing. It was a reminder, reassurance. The young elezen delightedly rambled on, while his sister watched us in reverence. My own gloved hand reached up to cover his in wordless gratitude.
No sooner did my pupils narrow at the quake in the earth that went unnoticed to all but Y’shtola who turned to me with a look that all but said I was not alone in my unease. Beyond the smog, tarred towers like molded shadows stretched toward the sky, though it was impossible to tell where the sky even began. That grounding warmth disappeared from my face as Estinien abruptly jolted out of sight. “Estinien! What the hell are you doing? We know nothing of what lies ahead. Fall back!” I called out in a panic, already reaching for my weapon and bounding forward. He appeared as a few clouds of grey smoke passed, atop a mountain of rubble and flesh that rotted to bone. “Which is precisely why I took the leap. As I recall, everyone was eager to get this over with and return home,” He replied with a scoff. Thancred clasped my shoulder and reassured me, “No worries, I’ll scout ahead from ground level and keep an eye on him. Though, who’s ever stopped either of us.” Gaia followed suit with a nod in my direction and Ryne stumbled to catch up. “Alphi–” I was cut off before I could even finish his name. With a squeeze of my hand, Alphinaud smiled, slowly inching backward as he spoke, “You hardly have to ask. We will see you at the end, as always.” When he let go and turned, I stared in awe of how much he had grown right in front of me in what felt like but three grains of sand in the glass.
It struck me then, that undulating, foreboding ache in my gut.
I had everything. And everything to lose.
Spindly maggots the size of airship masts, flowered to razored teeth, broke through the soot-covered surface, and lunged at us as we were spread across the molten field. Deformed wyverns clawed from above and hawk-faced ogres of mealy flesh roared head-on. I sent a hairless lycan creature’s severed torso flying, but its oozing lesions tainted the air around me with the taste of sulfur. The onslaught seemed endless and blood had begun to pour from a gash in my brow, clouding my vision. With every attempt to wipe my eyes, a new foe spawned from the spot I turned from. I gritted my teeth and frantically searched for my friends to no avail. The battle before me was muddied chaos and my patience had worn to dust. With great force, a burst of energy shook the surrounding atmosphere as it came off me in waves, ripping a dozen hellspawn in half. At least, for the moment, I could regain my bearings to properly find Estinien and the others.
But, just as I strode forth, a sound rang through my every vessel as though the universe were splitting at its seams, as well as I. Fresh rose petals bloomed from my mouth, born from the very depths of my core. An agonizing scream was torn from my throat as the shrill continued to batter my eardrum and I watched black spots form behind my eyes. And all at once, I was paralyzed. Like thunder, his blood-curdling roar of pain struck my nerves still. Upon ashen earth where no true life could bear fruit, I was rooted to the spot. A trickling fell from my lobe and Pellonia’s Blessing hung there, stained red.
Crystalline tears washed my vision clean, but my senses were far gone. Was I sprinting or had time forgotten its metronome while I had fallen? Everything moved at a pace all its own. The earring guided me with the faint timbre of a bell and my limbs carried me without faltering, no matter the obstacle. My gaze never shifted, nor did I blink, even as blood of midnight splattered every inch of me. I had to find him. I had to. I had to. I had to.
And there he was. That same set of broad shoulders, broader still in his draconic armor. That same silhouette I loved to watch in secret. Because I loved him. Because I loved him in a way that singed my soul and wound my heart in thorns. As if I lost sight of him, truly lost him, I would perish from the inside out. For I cursed myself to love when I had no right. Thorns plunged and I clutched my chest, stumbling forward. Blood streamed, unending, from where the arm that embraced me just that morning once was. The hand that aimed to quell my fears lay severed amidst corpse and gnat-covered organs. The very same with which he proudly wielded his halberd.
I felt ill . Estinien could barely stand, and yet he fought on with the nightmarish entity toying with him. Something grotesque, entirely feral barreled out from between my lungs and my body leapt forth. It was dizzying. Violet flames licked and coursed through my veins, urging me to destroy whatever lay before me. And I did. Purest light consumed Garlemald, eradicating all that should not walk amongst us, as if it were never there at all.
My shuddering sobs seeped through the blanket of quiet as I clamored on hand and knee to where Estinien had collapsed. Prying at the buckles, I threw my left pauldron to the rubble and hurriedly tore the fabric of the shirt underneath it. With one end caught in my teeth, I wound it tightly around the junction to form a tourniquet and he growled. More of my blouse was shredded in an effort to staunch the blood, but as I finally looked at him, he was deathly pale. I grabbed his face between my trembling palms and beckoned him to meet my tear-streaked gaze. “Hello, Estinien, my love, hey, stay with me. Please. Your gift, it worked after all. See, it brought me to you. So you will be safe, as long as you keep looking at me. Hm, alright?” Every word was punctuated by a gasp, for my chest was heaving so hard with fright it took every shallow breath I could muster just to remain upright. I hoarsely shouted into the distance for Alphinaud or anyone. Anyone, please .
Then, a set of steel claws weakly tangled in my hair, and the sensation nearly choked me of my last breath. His lids were heavy and his voice was hardly even a whisper, “What good am I… if I cannot… hold you.” My eyes widened, as his fell shut. And there was not a soul alive who did not hear my cries.
“If not for the flame of dragon that laid to rest in his bones, he would have been lost, even with my healing cast,” Alphinaud had pulled me aside in the hallway outside Estinien’s room where he finally slept soundly. My expression was grim, exhausted by the endless night. I refused to leave his side, drop his hand, even once. No matter how everyone pleaded with me to rest or preserve myself the torture of watching him snarl and thrash for hours as Alphinaud tried to fuse his limbs to no avail. Y’shtola had finally had enough of the sight of my trembling form, helplessly watching the person I loved writhe and scream, and used a spell of her own to numb his pain and lull him to sleep. Already torn to snake peel, I bit my lip at the young Sharlayan’s confession and felt my eyes gloss over.
Estinien had long since forgiven Nidhogg, in his own way, but to be tainted with his blood was something else entirely; it was as though Nidhogg had the last laugh. He would be more ashamed than grateful; cursed than blessed. Knowing Estinien, he would go as far as to say his old foe thwarted his chance for a noble, valiant demise. I sighed at the thought. A noble fool indeed. But, not one I had any intention of allowing to meet with any sort of demise so easily. Returning to present, I finally spoke, “Alphinaud, a favor, if you will.” He nodded and replied, “Of course.” My hand clasped his shoulder as I made my way toward Estinien’s room once more, a simple request in mind. “What you just mentioned… Let your words die between us. Please.” The youth’s eyes widened and softened in the same exhale of breath. His hand came over my own with a reassuring squeeze. “Anything to keep you both. Now, rest. I shall take my leave.”
Midday sun crept through the very fine cracks between shades left improperly shut, casting rays over the rise and fall of Estinien’s chest as slumber continued to keep him. I tiredly padded over to the side of the bed closest to the window and crawled in, careful not to wake him. The crease between his brows smoothed over as my form arrived to block the light and I felt a touch of relief watching him at peace. I did not dare to move the sheets, but I was too enraptured to mind the goosebumps that spread over my skin. There was not a sliver of weight to my touch as I lifted a finger to coax a sweat-matted strand from the corner of his lashes. He was feverish still, but nothing a few days of rest could not soothe. My fingers hovered over his flesh, tracing him like fine art without soiling the canvas. Ever-so-gently my hand twined itself with his, locking into him, dazedly wishing I could keep him safe in my grasp for a dozen lifetimes. Unconsciously, his thumb caressed mine and I felt the dregs of fatigue pull me under.
Deep persimmon flooded the room as I came to. Lashes fluttered trying to banish the sleep that clung to my heavy lids. Somewhere in that sea of orange hue, a wash of grey met my unfocused gaze. The warmth that encased my hand was now cradling my cheek. With drowsiness blinking away, I found the crescent moons beneath his eyes had fully eclipsed. I mirrored his affectionate hold, but a twinge of pain crossed his features. “Why do you stay?” Estinien inquired, his voice like burning coals. It was not a shallow cut, but an arrow through my heart. I tried to make a joke of his question as if it was told as such, “Did you not once call me a fickle bastard? You know my feelings well, do you not?” His eyes lowered and his palm slipped until his fingers ghosted my skin like dragonfly wings. “I am but half a man now. You need not pity me. Find strength in another someday,” He whispered, and a thousand more arrows sundered what bled between my ribs.
Without a second thought, of his injuries or any shred of composure left in me, I shoved him onto his back, straddling both sides of his bruised waist, and took his face in both my hands. Estinien growled and sharply gasped beneath me at the rough management of his wounds, but quickly fell silent at the mere sight of me. Stars fell from my eyes, dampening his sheets and the arm that instinctually shot out to hold me steady. “ You are my strength, you idiot. I do not pity you, I love you. And I will only ever want you for however many days I have left in this godforsaken life. The only half you are is half of me . You have taken half of my soul and if I do not have you I am but half a person myself. So, do not ever tell me when to stop loving you again, you utter moron,” I spoke fervently until I sank into him and poured that fervor straight into his mouth agape. Estinien drank my impassioned tears like mulberry wine and brought his hand desperately to the back of my head, insatiable. Fangs bare, he pulled back, nose gliding over my jawline. His own eyes were rimmed with tears. “Teach me then. How to love you properly,” He pleaded breathlessly before diving back in for more.
A trail of kisses worshipped each plane of his face and carved into the pulse at his neck. His shoulders were still mine to hold while his hand slid down to dig into the small of my back. For hours I held him captive between my thighs, melding myself into him until we could not distinguish one’s heartbeat from the other. I clung to his nape as he cried out my name and his fever devoured me to the bone.
We laid atop one another until I heard him wince and immediately shot up to check if the bandages at his shoulder showed any sign of reopened stitches. His eyes remained closed with a grimace, but he spoke up, “It seems the boy might have missed a cracked rib or two.” I began to peel myself away, but his arm was dead weight across my waist. “Estinien, I need to move lest I hurt you more,” I mumbled with my chin resting in the nook of his breastbone. Instead, he rolled us onto our sides, urging me to curl further into his chest. He tangled his legs with mine and stroked the lobe of my ear where moonlight tendrils had fallen over me. I pressed a dew drop kiss over the edge of the frayed cloth wound tight where his right arm used to be.
Sleep begins to creep up on us both and minutes pass in comfortable silence. But before long, a soft knock raps at Estinien’s door and I rise to my feet much to his dismay as he groans in protest. I open up to find Urianger with a tray packed to the brim with a fresh pot of tea, beef stew swirling with steam, and a hefty portion of sourdough. There is a faint shade of pink brushed over his nose and cheeks as I take the meal from his hands. “Now, I doth not cullionly pry into the private affairs of thee and our dearest comrade... But, may I caution thee to not carelessly entangle limbs with a freshly injured sir. I bethink it rath'r unwise consid'r'd the fragility of his–” I interrupted Urianger’s suggestion with a fit of coughs and muttered a quick ‘thank you’ before shutting the door. Estinien had sat himself up and was doing a pitiful job of covering up his own bubbling laughter at my beet-red visage. I opened my mouth to scold him but his stomach cut me off with a rather raucous gurgle. With a snort of my own, I brought the tray to his bedside and set it down on the ottoman after shifting it over with my foot. “My, my… And here I thought you had your fill,” I teased with a smirk. The tips of his ears flushed as he reached for the bowl with a frown. “You jest,” He grumbled. For a moment, my face fell as I watched him realize he could not hold both the bowl and spoon with just one hand. I could only imagine how difficult it must be to accept you can no longer perform even such menial tasks as easily as you once did. And he was far too stubborn to ask for help… Or so I thought. “Could you, um..?” Estinien asked sheepishly, only staring into the broth in front of him. A hearth grew within me and kindled a smile upon my lips. I moved to sit across from him and motioned for him to let me have the bowl. With it raised toward his chin, he was able to ladle the contents into his mouth with ease. A small grin crested his own busy mouth as I blew cool air over the piping hot spoonfuls.
Estinien stopped eating and got lost in the softened, amorous awe that glowed in my gaze. He sat the spoon back in the bowl and ushered my hand to set it down on the tray. When I turned back to him, he was just an exhale away. His forehead pressed into mine and took a deep breath, eyes closed. It was hardly a whisper, like it was meant to burrow directly into my thoughts. It was a promise and a fealty. It was a love letter in two simple words.
“Thank you .”
