Chapter Text
Once you’ve been trained to be a spy, you can’t really stop thinking like one. The habits become second nature. When Lucia walked, she kept her steps light and avoided leaving footprints. When she entered a room, she had multiple potential exit routes mapped within seconds. One instinct, running deeper than all the others, was that listening required more than just hearing . It was drilled into her that every piece of information she could glean from a conversation could be the difference between success and failure. The lilt of someone’s vowels could tell you which part of the countryside they were from, the way they stood could betray an old leg wound that could put them at a disadvantage in combat, and the slightest twitch of an eye could be the only hint you get that they were lying to you. Intense, analytical mistrust – that was the Empire’s way.
She’d done her best to not feel bad about how ingrained it had all become. After all, the very thing that drew her to Aymeric’s service was how he rose above his past, and inspired her to do the same. If she could take the skills the Empire gave her and use them to aid Ishgard, that was good. She needn’t feel like an imposter or a fraud for thinking like a Garlean, she told herself. She was dedicated to Ishgard, to making Ishgard a better place,
The people of Ishgard hadn’t always made that easy, of course. The only thing they liked more than gossiping about one another was gossiping about outsiders. Even with her true heritage hidden, she was under constant scrutiny. Things had improved somewhat as the government and society changed. Her service was recognized, parents would scold their children for staring at her rather than staring along with them, and people would even offer a hello when they passed her in the street. She wanted so dearly to trust people, to just calm down and enjoy the nation she was helping build. But, just like her training ran deep, so too did the judgemental ways of Ishgardian culture. With every greeting thrown her way, she saw their eyes dart up and down, taking her in. They couldn’t stop judging her, and she couldn’t stop noticing them judging her. It was all instincts.
The Final Days and their surrounding conflicts had stirred a new wave of progress in Ishgard. It was a little sad, how well a shared enemy and mortal stakes could improve people’s behavior. The Temple Knights were flush with new recruits, proposals for new infrastructure and social projects were being heard in the Houses every day, and the mood was, by Ishgardian standards, positively chipper. The high times were hardest for Lucia to adjust to. She was never one to relax. She was always listening, always watching, always searching for the next thing that would come their way and threaten everything they’d worked for.
It was that old intense, analytical mistrust that had turned her attention to Hilda Ware. She and her Hounds had been starting to work more closely with the Temple Knights to enact some of the newly passed reforms. Lucia still hadn’t worked directly with Hilda, but they often saw each other in passing. Lucia began to notice odd ticks about Hilda’s behavior. Wandering eyes. Flared nostrils. Ever-so-slightly pitched up voice when she spoke to Lucia. The profile didn’t match what Lucia would usually classify as dangerous, but she didn’t understand it, and that worried her. Thankfully, as ever, she had Aymeric to lean on. The two trusted one another’s council, and shared concerns freely and without judgment. So, she had come to his office during a lull in his schedule to lay out her observations.
“She’s done an admirable job with the Hounds, of course, but there’s something I can’t shake about her behavior. I can’t get a read on her, and that makes me nervous.” She murmured to him. She and Aymeric sat in silence for a few moments.
“The Hounds have been doing remarkably of late, and I would be loath to take any action that could endanger their position in Ishgard. You know as well as I how certain nobles are looking for any reason to discredit them and cast them aside. However, I’ve seldom known your judgment to waver. I will be meeting with Hilda in a few bells to discuss how the Hounds are progressing with training. If it would help to assuage your concerns, Lucia, you are more than welcome to join us.” Lucia nodded.
“I appreciate it, Commander.”
Hilda showed up a few minutes past the meeting time, heralding herself by calling out to the guard posted in front of Aymeric’s door.
“Apologies, I’m late, but the Lord’s expectin’ me, so if you’d kindly open up–”
There was the sound of the guard shuffling to the side ( His steps sounded creakier than they ought to, Lucia thought, I’ll have to post a reminder about armor upkeep for the new recruits) , and then the door flew open. Hilda bounded her way in.
“Sincerest apologies, my Lord, got sidetracked talkin’ to Joye at the Manufactory.” Hilda noticed Lucia leaning against the wall, and gave her a wide smile. “Oh! Lovely surprise. Fancy seein’ you here.”
She flushed slightly , Lucia thought, when she looked at me . To the untrained eye, one might say her cheeks were simply rosy from the cold on her walk over. But, to Lucia’s instincts, there was a slight change in hue specifically when their eyes met. And, why would she say Lucia’s presence was a surprise? Wasn’t expecting to see Lucia there? Why not? Did she have some sort of plan that required Aymeric to be alone?
Lucia stewed in her suspicions as Aymeric and Hilda talked. The conversation was innocent enough, going over goals and timetables and necessary resources and such. Throughout the meeting, however, Hilda kept shooting furtive glances in her direction. Each glance was accompanied by some strange tic in her body language – a toss of her hair, a puff of her chest, and so on.
Hilda was trying to intimidate her, perhaps? Hilda would converse with Aymeric as any normal meeting might go, but then direct her every move toward Lucia . Why? What did Hilda have against her? Had she given offense? What could she be trying to accomplish here?
“Well, that about covers all my gripin’ on the logistics of training, my Lord.” With another sly glance towards Lucia, Hilda stood to leave. “One last thing, though. I know we are meant to serve as a complement to the Temple Knights in national defense scenarios, a ranged backline to support them at the front, but a few of the pack have expressed interest in learning some basic swordsmanship in case the need arises.” She turned fully towards Lucia now and strode up to her, hands on her hips. “Why don’t you come teach us some of that fancy swordwork of yours some time?”
Lucia, having been lost in mental calculation, now certain something was up, failed to answer for just a bit too long. Blessedly, Aymeric piped in.
“That sounds like a splendid plan. Lucia, if I recall correctly, you do not have a watch shift tomorrow. Why don’t you join the Hounds’s afternoon training block and provide some basic training? You all may utilize the barracks training ground.” Lucia nodded curtly to him.
“Aye, I can do that.” She turned to Hilda, who was still close and gazing up at her with an ineffable expression. “I’ll be there half a bell after your training block starts. I recommend your team use that time to do some basic calisthenics and limber up before the real work starts.”
“I’ll limber up for you whenever you need, ma’am.” Hilda gave Lucia a mock salute and winked before waving to Aymeric and excusing herself. When the door clicked shut, Lucia listened to her footsteps. Woman of her height, should take about fifteen paces to turn the corner in the hall. Ten paces more, she’ll be well out of earshot. After counting the clicks from Hilda’s boots, satisfied they could speak safely, she turned to Aymeric and spoke in a low voice.
“See, there’s something different about her behavior of late, I just can’t put a finger to why she–” Lucia faltered when she heard Aymeric’s chuckle. He placed a hand over his mouth to cover it, but his eyes still sparkled with laughter.
“I am sorry, truly, I don’t mean to laugh.” He motioned for her to relax. Confused, she sat down to listen. “Your skills are usually so unimpeachable, I’m just surprised to find even a small blind spot like this.”
“My lord, I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Lucia.” He fixed her with a kind, impish gaze. “Based on what I saw today, we have no reason to worry that Hilda is scheming something. If her behavior towards you seems different or odd, it’s because she was flirting with you.”
“Oh.” Lucia was stunned. “That… would explain… things.” She felt so foolish. A woman, who’d been doing a great service to Ishgard, paid her a little attention, and she’d immediately jumped to suspicion. Intense, analytical mistrust. It was the Empire’s way, and she hadn’t kicked the habit. No matter how far she thought she came, how far she thought she could rise above her past, those old Garlemald instincts kept a tight hold on her.
“That’s quite the furrow in your brow. Hardly the reaction I’d expect to your finding out a fetching, skillful woman wants you. What’s on your mind?” Aymeric leaned back in his chair. His stance was open, honest, and inviting as ever.
“I suppose I’m… ashamed. She’d done nothing to earn my mistrust, and yet I convinced myself she had, and wasted your time as well.”
“Come now, I’ll have none of that. I know you had naught but Ishgard’s best interests in mind. You’ve spent so long keeping a watchful eye out for malicious agendas that it’s hardly surprising you’d see them everywhere. It’s a habit. You’re tense, Lucia. We’ve worked so hard, come so far, and now that it’s beginning to pay off, you must learn to let yourself relax and lighten up. You’ve earned some peace, my friend.” Aymeric gave her a warm, gentle smile.
“I’ll take that into consideration.” She nodded solemnly and stood to leave, still mentally reprimanding herself. Aymeric called to her before she reached the door.
“I hope this is not too bold, but I feel it would be remiss of me to remind you that Temple Knights are not required to take a vow of chastity. Enjoy training tomorrow, Lucia.”