feed your soul (and mine with it)
Aymeric's heart burns. This sensation is new, foreign, unwelcome; it creeps in through shadows and doubt, rearing its ugly head as he wakes in the early morn and haunting even his dreams in the dead of night.
It is also wholly a surprise when it first begins. After all, he had not known that other Scions would be meeting up with the Warrior of Light for his quest to support the Miners' Guild. Yet, as dawn's first light peeks over the snow-covered mountains to the east in Coerthas, Aymeric's early morning patrol is interrupted by the sight of his dearest friend laughing alongside a redheaded companion. They are drenched in sweat and dust, eyes red-rimmed with exhaustion, but the smiles on their lips showcase naught but mirth.
The redhead, another Miqo'te with a crystalline staff slung across his back, is familiar to Aymeric, at least vaguely. He is largely unmistakable thanks to the brilliant red eyes visible even across the plaza. In his position, it is hard to not have heard of G'raha Tia, the red-eyed scholar who had helped the Warrior of Light save the First shard; however, the Miqo'te has never truly made acquaintance with the Isghardian regiment of those dispatched during the Final Days.
Seeing him now, Aymeric wonders whether he even wants to. The emotion is difficult to name, but it locks the knight in place; not a muscle can twitch as he watches a gloved hand pat the Warrior of Light on the back, their heads leaning in together, their hearts worn lovingly on their sleeve. His eyes quake as they walk off towards the Jeweled Crozier, his friend's voice echoing through the empty pillars as they loudly order the first order of coffee for the day from a small stand in the marketplace. Aymeric keeps watching long after they have gone, despite the fact that he knows he has a meeting to get to once the sun illuminates Ishgard's stone walls.
They… are close.
His eyes sting, his heart palpitating, his gut in his greaves. Of course they are close, he reasons. They have travelled to the edge of the stars together. I would be more baffled if he did not have close relations with all the Scions. They have defended each other on the First; they have fought side-by-side against the Ascians; now, I suppose G'raha Tia travels with him as a companion. I wonder if he, too, is a member of the guild, or merely here to support his friend. I wonder-
It takes multiple early mornings of catching the two re-enter Ishgard after mining a rare mineral with the guild all night for Aymeric to finally put a name to this ache in his very aether.
He is jealous. All he has ever wanted since meeting the Warrior of Light and reading of his exploits and watching him save Aymeric's people so beautifully- G'raha Tia is apparently living that life.
How beautiful does the sunrise look, brilliantly shining over the snowcapped mountaintops of his homeland, with the Warrior of Light at one's side?
He catches them once holding hands. It is brief and friendly, but they cling, and the image sears itself into Aymeric's eyelids, a permanent fixture. A shameful fixture.
That is the first morning that Aymeric allows himself to shed tears for his want. By the Twelve, how he weeps, silent and still, looking out into a sunrise that has lost a bit of its lustre amongst the pillars of his beloved citadel.