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It was a tranquil night in the Dravanian Forelands, the blanket of snow shimmered under the moonlit sky, a gentle breeze carrying the distant chirps of chocobos and other sorts of nocturnal nightlife.
Tailfeather was quiet and peaceful, the perfect place to retire and start a family, which is exactly what Ysayle and Estinien have done following the end of the Dragonsong War. With Ysayle already having lived in Tailfeather alongside the locals and Marcechamp taking her under his fatherly wing, and Estinien wishing to leave behind the claustrophobic and domineering city of Ishgard and return to his rural roots, it was only logical that they would eventually settle down in the quaint Dravanian village.
Ysayle shifted under the blankets and furs, all layered to protect against the cold of Dravanian winter. She felt the warm hand of her beloved, adorned with a wedding band, snake its way around her waist and rest on her abdomen, swollen with their little one.
“Love?” Estinien asked in a whisper, voice heavy with sleep. He leant in closer when she began whining with discomfort, cradling her body and pressing her back against his chest. He felt her hand, itself adorned with a matching wedding band, slide down and over his, intertwining their fingers and bringing both closer to the centre of her belly.
Not many weeks have passed since the end of the Dragonsong War that they learned they’d be expecting a new addition to their little family, just before they were set to wed in the Halls of Halone. Now, she was almost to term and their little one was expected to be brought into the world at any moment.
“I’ll bring you some water,” Estinien said with a chaste kiss to her temple, gently stroking her belly in small, circular motions, “Lay on your back.”
After helping her roll over and get comfortable resting on the fluffed-up pillows, the former Azure Dragoon covered his wife back up with their blankets and went to fetch her a glass of water.
Walking out of their bedroom and towards the kitchen area, he glanced at a little wardrobe nestled against one of the hallway’s walls, stocked full with baskets of linens and cloths, swaddles, towels, and anything that would help them with child-rearing from birth onwards. The thought of his beloved Ysayle going into labour now dawned on Estinien, driving him to quickly recount the steps taught to them by the mothers and midwives of Tailfeather on what to do when assisting in childbirth, just in case.
No one would have guessed that Estinien Wyrmblood, the Azure Dragoon of Ishgard, was a family man, but nobody in Eorzea and the heavens above was more elated than him when he learnt that he’ll be a father. As he took a glass from one of the cupboards and poured some water out of a jug, he thought about the day they learnt Ysayle was with child.
They were at the Rising Stones in Mor Dhona to celebrate with the Scions, his beloved having incessantly urged - more like forced - him to go and pay a visit to Alphinaud, the Warrior of Light, and the rest of the Scions after so unceremoniously having left on his pilgrimage following his recovery. They were celebrating his return and their engagement until the early hours of the morning with ale and food and music, enjoying the respite awarded by the end of the millennium-long war betwixt Ishgardians and Dragons.
It was when the celebrations were nearing an end when Y’shtola - the Scions’ Miqo’te conjurer as they have learnt - pulled them slightly to one side as if not wanting the other Scions at the table to overhear, or simply wanted to discuss without some nosy loud-mouth interrupting their chat.
“So, now that you are set to become a ménage, what are your plans for the future as husband and wife?” The Miqo’te woman asked genuinely interested.
The couple looked at each other, “Travel?” Estinien proposed, “No, we yet have to find a place to settle,” Ysayle replied, earning a confused look from her fiance.
“But you said you wanted to see Eorzea?” He asked in turn, making Ysayle rest her cheek on her knuckles as if lost in thought.
“If you do travel,” Y’shtola interrupted, “I hope you do so without getting into battles, least of all you.” She emphasised the importance of her warning by turning to Ysayle, who only looked at her with confusion. A silence befell them for a moment as they waited for the Miqo’te woman to answer, but all she did was point at the Elezen woman’s abdomen, making her instinctively place a hand atop it.
“Had the Scions not yet told you, I have lost my sight in the Lifestream, and instead I have gained the ability to see Aether. And yours, well…” She paused to chuckle in amusement at their increasingly surprised faces, “There is a second one growing inside your belly.”
Estinien huffed with amusement, remembering how he lifted his beloved and twirled her in the air and around the hall of the Rising Stones following the revelation, both enveloped in pure and unbridled laughter. The war has ended, he was reunited with his beloved, they became engaged, and now he was going to be a father! He thought that life could not get any better than when he heard the resounding ‘Yes!’ when he proposed to his precious Ysayle, yet here they were, and yet, thoughts of the past yet reared their ugly heads from time to time, unsettling him in quieter moments.
When he went on his pilgrimage to commemorate those he lost, Ysayle waited for him, she did - Estinien remembered with a heavy heart, herself having just nursed her wounds following Azys Lla where he and the rest of their expedition had thought her dead.
Remembering those moments crushed him, not that there was much to remember. Following her alleged “death”, his memory became more and more spotty as his guard lowered and Nidhogg increased his efforts to take over the dragoon’s mind tenfold. In the darkness, he remembers the pain and anguish, ones that he had not felt in decades since the brutal murder of his family from the same wyrm that eventually took over him, at the loss of his beloved. From voids of darkness to flashes of memories, he tried recounting the end of the war, up until a spot in his memory breaks the pattern as he remembers a warm embrace, a beating heart, and two familiar hands cradling his head. Then all went blank.
Estinien placed the jug back in its place and stared at the glass of water, remembering how he laid in his infirmary bed frozen in shock at the sight of Ysayle, whom he first thought was merely her spirit coming to torment him for being a “bloody fool” and “thick bastard”.
She herself was wrapped in her own sets of bandages and adorned with a matching infirmary gown, once fair skin now pestered with blooming bruises and stitched cuts of all sorts of colours and sizes. Had the thought that he might be dead ever crossed his mind, the pang in his chest when he saw her in that state surely dispelled any such further notions. The guilt weighed him heavily, at not having saved her, not having protected her, or told her how much he loved her before she…
Hot streaks of tears slid down his cheeks both then and now, and now he wiped them with his shirt’s sleeve and took the glass of water, about to walk back to the bedroom when he suddenly heard his beloved yell out his name. He rushed back, somehow without spilling the cup, and just looked at her when he burst through the bedroom, his serious expression masking his worry.
Illuminated by the moonlight and a candle she lit up, Ysayle was sitting up and clutching her belly with one hand, blankets all thrown haphazardly to his side of the bed. Her shocked gaze led Estinien’s, who gasped slightly at the sight of the wet spot on both her nightgown and the bedsheets underneath.
“Estinien..” Ysayle called out, her voice wavering slightly from concern. Looking up at him like that quickly broke him out of his stupor.
Placing the glass down on the wardrobe by the door, Estinien hurried to her side and wrapped his left arm around her shoulders, his right hand resting on top of Ysayle’s. He looked at the wet spot for a few moments before turning his head back to his beloved, hand clutching hers.
“Is it… Time?” Azure eyes stared at her own icy silver ones with a worry she seldom witnessed.
Ysayle nodded with an affirming hum. “ ‘Twould seem so…”
With a hearty kiss to her temple, Estinien reassures his wife and leaves once again to fetch all the items they need for the birth.
Finally, after all this time, the time has come that they would welcome their child into the world.
While Ysayle waited for her beloved to return, she rubbed circles on her swollen belly, talking to it sweetly but wearily as she awaits the labour. While she doted on the baby, the expecting mother looked outside the window, remembering the plans they had made a few weeks past: would their little one be born in daytime, Estinien would rush and fetch the midwives from the Tailfeather infirmary, otherwise…
The loud thuds of heavy baskets of cloth and various items brought her attention to the hallway, her head snapping toward the door so fast that her messy silver hair fell on her shoulders.
“Is all alright, my love?” Ysayle called out, hoping her husband hasn’t gotten himself into trouble as he often did.
“‘Tis fine, all is fine! Worry not!” He replied, obviously struggling with all sorts of falling items.
She sighed, a slight chuckle escaping her throat.
Estinien always fussed over her, especially so after they were reunited in the Ishgardian infirmary. She can remember it vividly, the sight of his face contorted in this shocked and pained expression, tears running down his face - it crushed her.
Their reunion was a quiet one, the silence occasionally broken by muffled whimpers and sobs as they embraced each other tightly. Despite everything, they were still here, still alive. The man before her was nothing like the Estinien she knew; gone was the gruff bastard with a few too many rugged edges, the Estinien embracing her now and pestering her face with incessant kisses was so very desperate and sweet and full of love to give.
“I thought I-” He choked on a sob, pressing a frantic kiss against her chapped lips as if she would disappear from his arms any moment now, “I thought I lost you…”
The whimper he let out, sweet Saint Shiva, chased away any stray doubts that he might have hated her, despised her.
Ysayle was brought back from her memories by a small contraction, making her clutch her abdomen instinctively, and at the same time Estinien came back carrying half a dozen different baskets and towels and-
“YSAYLE!” He let them all fall to the ground beside the end of the bed, the baskets impacting the wooden floor with a loud thud.
She quickly lifted her head, eyebrows lifted in surprise at his sudden shout.
“For Shiva’s sake- You’ll wake the entire village up!” She chided him as per usual while he headed once again by her side. He clicked his tongue and brushed her silver hair out of her face and off her shoulder, pushing it behind her long and pointy ears. Looking down at her neck for a moment made him notice a few small bruises: hickeys he left while they were enjoying each other’s company a few nights ago. ‘Have I been too rough?...’ he said to himself inside his mind.
“Too rough with what?”
Or so he thought.
“Nothing. The baby, how is it? Do you think you can handle a few more minutes? I need to get the bucket of water heated.” Estinien said as he took a few towels and laid them out underneath, lifting her legs gently and just enough to slide the Tailfeather-patterned linen under her.
“Worry not, my love-” Another contraction interrupted her, making her wince, “I shall be fine, take your time.”
Estinien looked at her for a few moments, waiting for any sign of contradiction.
She gave him a peck on the cheek and patted his shoulder, “Go, before the baby decides to hasten its way here.” Ysayle encouraged playfully, seeing her beloved smile softly with an amused huff and walk away once more.
Estinien absolutely detested leaving her behind when she was in need; ever since the devastating blow dealt in Azys Lla, the guilt of not having been there for her weighed heavily on his soul, thoughts of what he could have done better, what he could have said instead… Regret flooded and consumed his mind, granting the first crack in his resolve that Nidhogg needed to know the time has come to overcome the Azure Dragoon.
After he awoke in the infirmary and reunited with his beloved, precious Ysayle, Alphinaud and the Warrior of Light explained to him the unbelievable story of Lady Iceheart’s survival, how she was apparently found by Ishgardian scouts in the Sea of Clouds, encased in a cluster of lustrous ice, curled up with her arms around her legs and head resting on her knees as if in a hibernating slumber. She was then recognised as the infamous Lady Iceheart and brought back to Ishgard for recovery and judgement soon thereafter, and had it not been for the Warrior of Light and little lord Alphinaud vouching for her pardoning, Estinien himself might have had to turn Ishgard upside-down to break her out of the gaols.
He quickly filled a large pot with water from a nearby tap, thanking Halone for the Ishgardian plumbing systems making their way to Tailfeather. Placing the pot of water on the cookstove, he then opened the compartment for the wood and threw in some kindling, lighting it up using a match.
Ysayle’s own recounting of Azys Lla and her survival neared on impossibility, and he would have not believed her had it not been for the living proof nestled in his arms. She told him that she would not have been making it back alive, that much she knew, but what she did not account for was that as she fell into oblivion, Shiva herself - not the shade she’d conjured out of her desperate want for the warmth of companionship - descended from the heavens and cradled her form in her gentle arms. The next thing she knew she was in a bed, under the shelter of what she thought was an infirmary room, with chains around her wrists - and it was not what she thought the Aetherial Sea would be like.
Estinien took the wooden bath basin they’d been gifted by one of the families of Tailfeather and placed the boiling pot inside, then filled the water jug with cold water and placed it by its side. Taking a deep breath, he offered a short prayer to Halone and made his way back to the bedroom.
He put down the basin at the foot of the bed, took out the jug of cold water and placed it by his side so he could fill the wooden bath with the boiling water. Using a nearby towel, he lifted the pot by its handles and tipped it over, quickly filling the basin halfway. While steam rose from the scalding hot water, Estinien put the pot aside and poured in the cold water from the jug, mixing it with his hand until it was at a hot enough temperature that, by the time their little one would be brought into the world, the bath would be just right for the babe’s sensitive skin.
Estinien shook his hand over the water to flick off the remaining droplets and then wiped his hands with the towel, the look on his face betraying his thoughts in front of his beloved.
“It aught amiss, my love?” Ysayle asked with a concerned look, tone unable to mask her worry.
He just looked at her with a melancholic expression and knelt closer to her side, giving her a chaste kiss on the cheek and placing a hand on her belly while the other gently wiped away the sweat from her brow with the towel. With a sigh, he hesitantly opened his mouth:
“I was just wondering if this child is truly our first,” he paused for a moment while he searched for the right words, “Given how we’d slept together quite a few times before the expedition to… Azys Lla -” that place always left a bitter trail both in his thoughts and in his mouth “ - I fear that when you were attacked, you might have been… We might have…”
“Lost a child?” She asked, almost in a whisper.
Estinien grimaced and only nodded quietly, making Ysayle instantly soften and coo at her beloved. She cupped his cheek with her hand and lovingly brushed her thumb against his cheekbone, which made the Elezen man only lean in closer into her touch.
“Has this been plaguing you ever since, my love?”
The man only nodded, his cheek still cupped in his wife’s gentle hand, his own hand rubbing slow circles on her belly.
“You needn’t worry, this babe is our first.” Ysayle places her free hand on top of his, stilling his motions.
“How can you be so sure?” Estinien asked, almost pained to ask.
Another contraction stopped Ysayle’s answer dead in its tracks, this one, though, was more powerful than the previous ones, and the true beginning of her labour.
The moment she squeezed his hand and her breath hitched in pain, Estinien dropped the subject and immediately moved to make his beloved more comfortable. Fluffing up her pillows once more and leaning her back on them, he went to the end of the bed and sat on the edge, slowly parting her legs and helping her remove her smalls.
“Had these been different circumstances…” Estinien trailed off with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood as he displayed Ysayle’s smalls to her, earning an exasperated chuckle from the Elezen woman.
“Behave yourself, Estinien.” She warned and plopped her head back on the pillows, focusing on her breathing just as the Tailfeather midwives instructed her to.
In the meantime, her beloved had begun rubbing one of the salves they’d been gifted on her bare belly to help alleviate the pain and hasten the process - or so they’ve been told.
Estinien, ever the so dutiful husband, always went above and beyond for Ysayle so that she may never be left wanting or without. This duty he took upon himself following their reunion as to honour the second chance he had been given to protect and cherish her after he took her presence for granted before her act of sacrifice in Azys Lla. It was the least he could do, especially after he had been told how Ysayle ran to his aid, herself still nursing wounds from the battle in Azys Lla, when Nidhogg took over him and fought the Warrior of Light on the Steps of Faith. That is when he knew he could not let himself make the same mistake again, he could not, he would see that she would receive the care and love she so deserved and that he was too stubborn to admit to in the past.
As he continued to rub circles on her belly, Estinien encouraged her to push and breathe, eventually reaching a constant rhythm. The whole process was messy and painful, with blood and fluids staining the towels beneath, and cries of pain and frustration emanating from Ysayle, Estinien could barely keep up - and he wasn’t even the one giving birth!
It pained him to see her suffering, and every moment he wished he could do something more than just encourage her and massage her swollen abdomen, but as it was too late to call a midwife, Estinien had to take up the role.
Around half an hour or so had passed by the time Estinien could see the top of the baby’s head, and when he did he exclaimed with excitement, praising and doting on his wife while he readied to catch their little one.
“You’re almost there, just a little more - a few more pushes my love!” Encouraged Estinien, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.
As Ysayle struggled to push, hunched over and clutching the sheets while rugged and laboured breaths were interrupted by the clenching of her teeth, beads of sweat running down her forehead, all she could do to distract herself from the pain was to scream - and scream she did. A guttural wail erupted from her as she pushed one final time, swearing on Saint Shiva and Halone’s names, her cry was soon joined by the squeal of their newborn babe.
In her daze and confusion, Ysayle fell back on her pillows and desperately tried to catch her breath. Meanwhile, Estinien quickly got to work and cleaned the small, mewling babe with a towel he wet in the warm water basin, carefully wiping the little one.
“A son, Ysayle...” Estinien called out while wiping down the tiny legs and feet, marvelling at their newborn. The tiny tuft of white hair, small pointed ears, and the cutest scrunched-up face as if it was furious at whoever had just woken him up from his peaceful nap - it made the new father shed tears of joy. The little one’s cries were loud and piercing as well, which, as much as it pained the parents to hear, meant powerful and healthy lungs.
As he lifted his head to look at his beloved, Estinien saw her looking for their babe while struggling to remain awake.
“A baby boy?...” Ysayle asked, her voice but a whimper, and yet the corners of her mouth pulled upwards as if in joyous disbelief.
The sight made Estinien chuckle, and as he leant down to grab the clamps and scissors for the umbilical cord, he tried wiping his tears with his sleeves, silently praising The Twelve for this little blessing.
With the cord safely snapped, he leant up closer to his beloved and helped her pull down her top, but not before patting the back of the babe as to clear up any remaining fluids from his lungs - inadvertently making the little one squeal louder at the handling. While carefully holding their son’s head Estinien gently placed him at Ysayle’s breast, to which the little one gladly latched on and suckled happily.
The brightest of smiles broke out on his beloved’s face, brightest even than the albedo on white, Coerthan snow on the sunniest of days, and the tears that rolled down her cheeks brought out his own once again. The instant she saw her little one she melted, clutching his little body close to her chest and wrapping him up with their blankets, unable to contain her joy at having brought their babe into the world, happy and healthy no less. Ysayle cooed at the little one, who was suckling away at her teat while she gently brushed the little hairs on his head away from his forehead.
“He’s perfect,” Ysayle whispered, tone edging on disbelief, “I love him so much, Estinien…”
The Elezen man smiled and heartily kissed his beloved’s cheek, obtaining a merry giggle from his wife.
“Me too,” he replies after pulling back from her cheek, “He’s so precious, you both are.” Estinien continued while wrapping his arm around Ysayle and rubbing the little one’s cheek with his curled index, both of them doting endlessly on the bundle of joy in their arms.
Ysayle looked up at her husband and noticed the tears running down the awe-struck expression on his face, her own eyebrows furrowing upwards as she smiled the loveliest of smiles and caressed his cheek, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips followed by sweet-nothings and praises.
It wasn’t often they were this soft with each other, and yet it felt as comfortable as ever - the two of them just enjoying each other’s presence while quietly celebrating the birth of their son, it simply was perfect.
“Balaur,” Ysayle whispered, her head now leaning on Estinien’s shoulder, “We shall name him Balaur.”
Estinien hummed with approval, nodding and then kissing the top of her head. Balaur was the name they had agreed on for if they had a son, and it was at Ysayle’s insistence as it honoured the names of both Estinien’s late parents, Balnoit and Lauryce, while also being an old name for serpents in Dragonspeak, honouring their little family’s new connection with the dragons of Dravania. It truly was a match made in the heavens.
“Love?” Ysayle asked after a few minutes of silence, the only noises permeating the stillness of night being soft suckles from the feeding babe.
“Hm?”
“Should you not be fetching a midwife?”
Right, a midwife. They had agreed that in a case like this, in which Estinien had to help deliver the babe without a midwife present, he’d fetch one as soon as the child was out so they could give the little one a proper check-up.
However, as he looked down at his two most beloved people in the world, his body suddenly felt heavy and he did not wish to leave their side. It seems that his feelings were betrayed by his shift in expression, which Ysayle picked up on instantly but seems to have also shared.
“Maybe stay with us a little longer?” She whispered, cuddling up closer to her beloved while supporting their little one with her arm.
Estinien chuckled and got under the bedsheets while cradling the two protectively and close to his chest.
“If you insist…” He replied in jest before giving her a sweet peck on the forehead.
Sleep soon claimed both the couple and their little one, and the two Elezen orphans finally, after so long, fell asleep as a family of three.