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alionne · 3 years

Text

3 | Scale

Stormblood spoilers up to & including the level 69 dungeon. 1409 words.

When Alionne first spied the figure, she thought it was a daydream, brought to life by her own desires. An unidentified male insurgent had destroyed the cannon at Specula Imperatoris, Stark had said. Which beggared belief, Alphinaud had pointed out. And Alionne’s thoughts had drifted to one such person, location unknown, with the strength to do such a thing.

Well. Mayhaps not anymore, not without the Eyes of Nidhogg. But those, too, had turned up in Gyr Abania, had they not? Perhaps he’d chased them, and… found the Eorzean Alliance, being attacked by a cannon, and… destroyed it, but without notifying anyone else?

It was the most ridiculously dramatic chain of events Alionne could imagine, which honestly made it sound more and more like Estinien, now that she’d thought about it. So, mayhaps he’d been on her mind while assaulting Castrum Abania. Mayhaps she’d looked for him, even, though if he had been the one to destroy the cannon, he’d certainly have left by now.

She hadn’t been thinking of Estinien in the command room, though— she’d been achingly worried for Alisaie, and then furious at Fordola, and Zenos, baffled by his invitation. She’d hefted Alisaie in her arms, and then looked back for one last glance in the direction Fordola had disappeared, hoping to catch a glimpse of the magitek armor bearing her away.

And instead, she’d seen… well. She couldn’t be sure. But armor did glint in a very particular way, and the shape of it had been so familiar...

Another moment, and it disappeared. She forced her gaze away, back to more important matters—Alisaie might no longer be bleeding out on the floor, but she still needed transport.

But, on the ground, Alisaie safely spirited away, they’d had a lull, the recent battle won, the next one not planned yet. A chance to catch their breath. And Alionne had never been one for resting, and she was curious…

She spies Lyse with Raubahn, which means the girl probably won’t do anything too foolhardy tonight. It takes a few minutes until the new leader of the Ala Mhigan resistance can be pulled aside, but Alionne eventually finds her chance. “Do you still have that climbing gear?”

“The stuff we used for Nyunkrepf’s Hope? I… yes, I do,” says Lyse, confused. “Are you planning another trip? We did just climb it.”

“I was thinking about it,” admits Alionne, though she doesn’t say why. “I’m feeling a little restless, and I thought a short camping trip might be a nice way to tire me out.”

“Shall I come with you, then?” Lyse asks, as if it were already decided, and Alionne scrambles to think of a reason why she should go alone.

“Oh! No need! You’re the new leader of the resistance, you should make yourself available to everyone!” says Alionne, a little too eagerly, she scolds herself. “They’ve known you as a comrade, but I don’t know that they’ve all had the chance to see you as a leader, yet. Or to realize that you’re just as approachable now as you were before, you know?”

“I... suppose that’s true,” says Lyse, reluctantly. “But, you will be careful, won’t you? I’d hate to find you injured, or worse, because a golem got a lucky shot in, or you fell off a cliff.”

“I can handle myself,” Alionne tells her firmly, thinking of several cliffs she’s stepped off of willingly, without issue. Although, don’t tell her that, that’s not going to inspire confidence… instead, she winks at Lyse. “You won’t even notice I’m gone, promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that!” Lyse threatens, but she lets Alionne depart Ala Ghiri without further protest.

Retracing her steps is easy, automatic. As Lyse had pointed out, she’d just been here, and it leaves her mind free to wander.

Alisaie, Krile, and Y’shtola are all out of commission… although that feels like an understatement, in Krile’s case. The Resistance has won the Fringes and the Peaks, and no doubt there will be a plan to secure more of Ala Mhigo in the morning. Doma is freed, and Zenos’ attention is… on her, if Fordola’s unnerving eye contact had meant anything, but better her than anyone else.

Like the mysterious assailant who destroyed their cannons, she thinks, and then she’s thinking of Estinien again, as she hitches her rope to the first point Lyse had shown her.

It may not have been Estinien, she reminds herself. It could have been a trick of the light, or another wanderer. Even if it was, there’s no reason to think he’s still lingering here, now that the Resistance has taken Castrum Abania and the region is safe. Most likely, you’ll enjoy a nice climb and enjoy a nice view.

And with that, she pushes the dragoon out of her mind, focusing her attention on the climb. The dust on her palms, the edge of the rock digging into the pads of her fingers, the rough fibers of the rope as she loops it around her arm.

It’s a meditation, though not one that comes easily to her. Her thoughts turn to Fordola’s deep conviction and unnatural speed in the command room, and then she wrests them away, forcing herself to instead consider the cool desert air. Zenos’ “hunt” pops into her mind, and for a moment, she pauses, filled equally with the desire to fight and a worry about the outcome, but a burning in her arms forces her to refocus on the task at hand. Three-quarters of the way up, Alionne pauses on a small outcropping and suddenly thinks that Hien and Aymeric would like each other. If she weren’t so out of breath, she’d laugh at how unexpected, but right, the thought is.

The stars are coming out, and it reminds her of the Steppe and the Churning Mists and Thanalan all at once. The cliff, Alionne reminds herself, again. She feels a pleasant ache in her legs as she gets to her feet.

The last quarter will be slow-going, because even though Alionne’s already scaled this exact cliff in this exact way, it hadn’t been night last time. “What I wouldn’t give for a sodding chocobo right now,” she mutters to herself, and, alright, maybe she’s not trying to meditate anymore. Maybe she’s not avoiding thoughts of Estinien, either.

The thing is, if Alionne were a reclusive dragoon, this is the exact spot she’d hole up for a few days while her friends distracted the Empire. The ruins offer some measure of protection from inquisitive parties, and it’s very, maddeningly, stupidly high, she thinks, glaring at the rock face. Because gods forbid a dragoon stay on the bloody ground like anyone else, assuming there even is a godsdamned dragoon at the top of this godsdamned cliff, which there probably isn’t because Alionne has probably invented him, because she’s been looking for a familiar silhouette on top of every building she’s passed for months, ever since Aymeric had suggested that she’d be the most likely to see him of all of them, because he’s an uncommunicative, reclusive bastard.

And mayhaps frustration has propelled Alionne more quickly than expected, because she’s got a hand atop the cliff, now. The edge is an easy hold, and she lets the rest of her body weight hang, for a moment.

She’s too tired to lie about the feeling fluttering in her breast—she’s nervous. She’s been pretending all evening that it doesn’t matter if she finds him at the top, but she’d clearly come all this way for something. And even if Estinien is up here, she’s only going to find him if he wants to be found. Which he probably doesn’t, or he’d have contacted the Scions, or helped the Resistance, or even just been somewhere vaguely approachable.

You’re being ridiculous, Alionne tells herself, but something fond uncurls within her as she thinks it. It’s nice, to be nervous about something ridiculous, for once, instead of something potentially life- and nation-threatening. She’d climbed all this way, and here she was, hesitating on the very last step, for no good reason.

And just as she’s resolved to move, a hand grasps her wrist and starts to haul her the rest of the way up.

“Only a fool would climb a cliffside like this at night,” a reassuringly familiar voice growls at her.

“And only a fool would be waiting at the top,” she replies sweetly, and finds her feet at last.

#ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2021 #estinien #lyse #me: well let's not lock down ships too early #also me: yeah but wol/aymeric/estinien tho

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