kilanivarlineau
name. Kilani Varlineau
gender. Female
age. : 31
race. Au'Ra (Xaela) Nidhogg's Shade
nameday. 3rd Sun of the 1st Astral Moon
orientation. Bisexual
guardian deity. Oschon, the Wanderer
main job. DRG
love interest. Estinien Varlineau
Solo
backstory Kilani Hayakawa's life was forever altered during the Dragonsong War. A skilled lancer from the steppes, she had traveled to Ishgard to prove her mettle, unaware of the horrors that awaited. During a fateful battle, she was caught in a desperate skirmish with Nidhogg himself. The dragon's corrupted aether coursed through her as she narrowly survived his devastating attack. Though her life was spared, her transformation began.
Her black scales grew darker and harder, her once bright blue eyes turned to a piercing yellow, and scars marked where her body struggled to contain the draconic aether within her. The transformation left her in a constant battle to maintain her identity, as whispers of Nidhogg's rage echoed in her mind. She fought to master this new, half-dragon state, fearing that succumbing to the dragon’s influence might make her a danger to those she sought to protect.
Kilani now wanders Eorzea, seeking answers about her condition and a way to purify her aether. Her path is one of both redemption and discovery, balancing the powers of a dragon with the heart of a warrior. Though feared by many for her appearance, she has found unexpected allies who see beyond her scales and scars, helping her uncover her purpose in the wake of her transformation.
Kilani’s transformation into a half-dragon only deepened her resolve to master the spear and defend those who could not defend themselves. Her connection to dragons, though a curse in her eyes, made her a natural dragoon. Determined to harness her new abilities rather than be consumed by them, she sought out Ishgard’s finest warriors for training. Her journey led her to Estinien, the Azure Dragoon himself.
At first, Estinien regarded her with suspicion, her draconic features a painful reminder of Nidhogg’s fury. Yet, as he observed her tireless dedication to controlling her powers and her desire to protect others, his wariness softened into respect. Kilani’s strength and determination resonated with him, and he agreed to mentor her. Their shared struggles—Kilani with her transformation and Estinien with his past as Nidhogg’s vessel—formed a bond that grew stronger with each passing day.
Training together forged a deep camaraderie that soon blossomed into something more. Estinien saw in Kilani a kindred spirit, someone who understood the weight of his burdens and stood steadfast beside him. For Kilani, Estinien became a beacon of hope, a reminder that even those touched by darkness could rise above it. Their love was not one of grand gestures but of quiet moments—shared battles, lingering glances, and conversations beneath Ishgard’s stars.
Now, as partners both on and off the battlefield, Kilani and Estinien fight to protect Eorzea from threats that would plunge it into chaos. Their love is a testament to their resilience, proof that even amidst scars and shadows, the light of hope and connection can shine through.
DIARY
Chapter List:
chapter one. The stench of blood and steel clung to the air, thick as the mist that rolled over the jagged peaks of Dravania. Estinien Wyrmblood had long since grown accustomed to such battlefields, but as he wiped his lance clean, a flicker of movement in the distance caught his attention.
The figure stood alone amidst the slain beasts, poised yet battle-worn. It wasn’t the armor or the weapon at her side that drew his eye, but the unmistakable presence of dragon’s blood coursing through her veins. Black scales marred smooth skin, piercing yellow eyes glowed in the dim light, and scars weaved across her body in a tale of conflict.
He stiffened. Was she an enemy? Another soul lost to Nidhogg’s rage? His grip on his lance tightened.
“You need not look at me with such suspicion,” she said, her voice calm but edged with something unreadable. “I have no quarrel with you.”
Estinien narrowed his eyes. “Then what are you? Your visage bears the mark of the wyrm.”
The woman stepped forward, her expression unwavering despite his scrutiny. “My name is Kilani Hayakawa. And I am… what remains of myself.” She exhaled slowly, gaze meeting his without fear. “Nidhogg’s fury nearly consumed me, but I resisted. I am no thrall to him.”
His gaze flickered over her form once more, still uncertain, but something in her presence—her restraint, her steady resolve—dissuaded his initial instinct to attack.
“Then you have my curiosity, Kilani Hayakawa,” Estinien said at last, lowering his weapon slightly. “But know this—I have seen the grip of a wyrm’s hatred before. If you are deceiving me—”
“You would strike me down,” she finished, a small, knowing smile ghosting across her lips. “I would expect nothing less from the Azure Dragoon.”
A tense silence stretched between them before Estinien let out a low huff. “Hmph. You are either fearless or foolish.”
“Perhaps both,” she admitted. “But I’ve had to be.”
A flicker of something unfamiliar stirred within him—not quite trust, not yet, but something close to intrigue. This was not the encounter he had anticipated, but he could not shake the feeling that their meeting was fated for more than mere chance.
And for the first time in a long while, Estinien did not turn his back on another.
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chapter two. Days passed since their first meeting, and though Estinien remained wary, he found himself drawn to Kilani’s company. She was unlike any warrior he had fought beside before—she moved with the precision of a Dragoon, yet carried herself with a grace he couldn’t quite define.
They fought side by side in the ruins of Dravania, neither speaking much, but their blades and spears sang a language all their own.
One evening, as they made camp beneath the skeletal remains of a fallen dragon, Estinien finally broke the silence.
“You do not flinch at the sight of dragons, nor do you despise them as many do. Why?”
Kilani looked into the fire, the flames reflecting in her golden eyes. “Because I know what it is to be seen as a monster.”
Estinien frowned but said nothing. He knew that feeling all too well.
She turned to him then, her expression softer than he expected. “You, too, carry the burden of dragon’s blood. And yet, you fight so fiercely against it.”
His jaw tightened. “It is not a burden I bear lightly.”
“No,” she agreed, “but it is one that shapes you. As mine has shaped me.”
The fire crackled between them, but the silence that followed felt less like distance and more like an understanding settling into place.
For the first time in years, Estinien felt as though he was not alone in the battle against the past.
And Kilani, for the first time, found someone who did not recoil from what she had become.
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chapter three. The road through Dravania was long and treacherous, winding through ruined structures and the bones of long-dead dragons. Kilani and Estinien moved in unspoken synchrony, their partnership tested and strengthened through battle.
But the past had a way of catching up to even the most hardened warriors.
One evening, as they reached a quiet overlook, Kilani stilled. Her golden eyes locked onto the distant glow of Ishgard’s lights piercing the dark horizon.
“Ishgard,” she murmured. “I haven’t set foot there in years.”
Estinien glanced at her. “You’ve been?”
“For a time,” she admitted. “But they saw only the monster in me.”
He scoffed. “Ishgardians fear what they do not understand. They see the wyrm’s mark and assume the worst.”
Kilani gave a humorless chuckle. “As did you.”
Estinien huffed but did not deny it. “Perhaps. But you proved yourself.”
She tilted her head. “And if I had not?”
He met her gaze, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “Then I would have been a fool.”
A small smile played on her lips. “I suppose I should be flattered.”
He shook his head but said nothing. A part of him wasn’t ready to admit that she intrigued him—her presence was a thorn in his mind, a puzzle he wasn’t sure he wanted to solve. And yet, the way she looked at him, unafraid of what he was, stirred something in him that he had buried long ago.
But before either could say more, a deep, guttural roar shattered the silence. From the shadows, a pair of glowing crimson eyes emerged—another dragon, another battle. Instinct took over, and in a breath, they were on their feet, weapons at the ready.
As the beast lunged, Kilani moved first, her spear a streak of silver in the night. Estinien followed, his own weapon arcing through the air to meet the enemy. And as they fought, side by side, the bond between them strengthened, forged in the crucible of conflict and tempered by something far more dangerous.
Something that neither of them were quite ready to name.
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chapter four. The battle had left them breathless. The dragon lay still, its body cooling beneath the pale light of the moon. Kilani wiped her blade clean, her golden eyes flicking toward Estinien. He stood a short distance away, silent, as though lost in thought.
The tension of combat had faded, but something else lingered in the air between them—an understanding, unspoken yet undeniable.
“Your form is improving,” he finally muttered, inspecting his lance before sheathing it.
Kilani chuckled, rolling her shoulders. “I’ll take that as a compliment, coming from the Azure Dragoon.”
Estinien snorted, shaking his head. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
They settled by the remnants of their dwindling campfire, the night stretching around them in quiet reprieve. For a long while, neither spoke. The stars above shone cold and distant, their light scattering across the peaks like shattered glass.
Then, Kilani broke the silence.
“I dream of him sometimes.”
Estinien glanced at her, brow furrowing. “Who?”
“Nidhogg,” she said, voice steady but soft. “His rage… it echoes in my mind, even now.”
His expression darkened. He knew that feeling well.
She turned her gaze to him. “Do you still hear him?”
Estinien exhaled sharply. “Not as I once did. But his hatred left its mark.” He tapped his fingers against his arm absently. “Some wounds never truly fade.”
Kilani nodded, understanding in her eyes. “That is why I fight—to keep his voice from drowning out my own.”
A beat passed, heavy with things neither of them were ready to say. Then, Estinien let out a short huff of laughter.
“You truly are stubborn.”
Kilani smirked. “Takes one to know one.”
For the first time that night, Estinien allowed himself to relax, just slightly. The fire crackled between them, its warmth a fragile thing against the cold.
And in that quiet moment, Kilani realized—she was not fighting alone anymore.
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chapter five. The wind howled through the craggy peaks of Dravania, carrying with it the scent of rain and the lingering stench of battle. Kilani and Estinien trudged side by side, their armor stained with dragon’s blood, though neither seemed eager to part ways just yet.
Kilani stole a glance at him. He had been quiet since they left the battlefield, his gaze distant. She had seen that look before—lost somewhere between past and present, between duty and something deeper.
“You don’t talk much about your past,” she finally said, breaking the silence.
Estinien’s lips pressed into a thin line. “There’s little worth speaking of.”
Kilani arched a brow. “I doubt that. We all carry ghosts.”
He stopped walking, exhaling slowly as if debating whether to answer. Then, without looking at her, he spoke.
“My village was burned by dragons when I was a boy. My family… gone in an instant.” His voice was void of emotion, but Kilani could see the tension in his shoulders. “Since then, my life has been battle after battle, driven by vengeance. There was no room for anything else.”
Kilani’s golden eyes softened. “And now?”
Estinien met her gaze, something unreadable flickering in his expression. “Now… I am still figuring that out.”
She gave him a small, knowing smile. “Then perhaps you’re not as alone in that as you think.”
For a moment, he held her gaze, then scoffed lightly. “You’re relentless.”
She chuckled. “So I’ve been told.”
As they continued walking, the silence between them felt different—less heavy, more understanding.
And for the first time in a long while, Estinien found himself wondering if vengeance was the only path he had left.
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chapter six. The first drops of rain were gentle, cool against Kilani’s heated skin. By the time they reached the tree line, the drizzle had grown into a steady downpour, drenching them both.
Kilani sighed, pushing wet strands of hair from her face. "Well, so much for staying dry."
Estinien muttered something under his breath, shaking the water from his gauntlets. His long hair clung to his face, silver strands darkened by the rain. "Miserable weather."
Kilani glanced at him and smirked. “I’d have thought the Azure Dragoon wouldn’t be so bothered by a little rain.”
He shot her a glare but said nothing, shifting his lance against his shoulder. She was beginning to recognize that silence—not one of dismissal, but of quiet endurance.
They found a spot beneath the outstretched branches of a gnarled tree, its thick canopy offering some meager shelter. The wind carried the scent of wet earth, and thunder rumbled in the distance.
Kilani flexed her fingers, her hands aching from the earlier battle. Estinien, standing beside her, suddenly reached out.
She froze as his calloused fingers brushed over hers, his touch light but deliberate. At first, she thought he meant to take something from her or steady himself, but his hand lingered.
Her breath hitched. "Estinien?"
His eyes flicked down at their joined hands, as if only just realizing what he had done.
"...Your hands are trembling," he muttered, his voice low.
Kilani hadn’t noticed. The cold, the exhaustion—it had all settled in, making her fingers slightly unsteady. But now, all she could focus on was the warmth of his palm against hers.
She chuckled, trying to mask the way her heart pounded. "Tired hands, that's all. Comes with the job."
Estinien didn't pull away immediately. His grip was firm, grounding, though his own hand was stiff, as if unused to the closeness.
Kilani looked up at him through the curtain of rain. His expression was unreadable, but there was a tension in his jaw, a flicker of something unfamiliar in his eyes.
Then, without another word, he let go.
Kilani exhaled, pressing her lips together as she rubbed her palm, still warm from his touch.
“We should keep moving,” he said gruffly, turning away.
Kilani nodded, though her mind was still caught on the moment that had just passed.
The storm had come and gone. But something else had settled between them—quiet, uncertain, and impossible to ignore.
Chapter List:
chapter seven. The rain had slowed to a soft drizzle, leaving behind the scent of wet earth and pine. The only sounds between them were the rustling leaves and the steady rhythm of their footsteps against the damp ground.
Kilani kept her gaze ahead, though her thoughts wandered. The feeling of Estinien’s hand in hers still lingered, a warmth that hadn’t faded despite the cold rain. She flexed her fingers absently. Had he meant to do that? Or had it been an instinctive gesture, quickly regretted?
Beside her, Estinien was unusually quiet. Not that he was ever talkative, but this was different—more deliberate, as if something weighed on him.
She debated saying something, but what would she even ask? Did you mean to hold my hand? Why did you let go? The very thought made her feel foolish.
Instead, she settled on something safer.
“You’re quieter than usual.”
Estinien exhaled sharply through his nose. “Should I be filling the air with mindless talk?”
Kilani huffed a small laugh. “No. Just… wasn’t sure if something was on your mind.”
His slate-gray eyes flicked toward her briefly before returning to the road ahead. He didn’t answer right away, and she wondered if he would at all.
Finally, he muttered, “The battle earlier. You fought well.”
Kilani blinked, surprised. “That almost sounded like a compliment.”
He scoffed but didn’t deny it.
They walked a little farther before Kilani spoke again, her voice softer this time. “Back there… when you reached for my hand…” She hesitated, unsure of how to phrase the question.
Estinien’s pace didn’t falter, but she noticed the way his fingers flexed at his side. For a moment, she thought he might ignore her.
Then, after a long pause, he answered, voice quiet but steady.
“You were shaking.”
Kilani swallowed. “I hadn’t noticed.”
His expression remained unreadable, but there was something in his posture—something restrained. “Neither had I. Until I did.”
Silence settled between them again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It wasn’t something Kilani needed to fill.
She let the moment exist, walking beside him as the drizzle faded into mist, as the warmth of his brief touch lingered between them.
She didn’t push for more. Some things took time.
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chapter eight. The night was calm, the air still carrying the faint chill of the earlier rain. Their fire crackled steadily, casting shifting shadows along the rocky overhang where they had made camp. Kilani sat cross-legged by the flames, absently running her fingers over the ridges of her gauntlets, while Estinien leaned against a boulder nearby, his lance resting at his side.
For a while, neither spoke. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was something in the air—something unspoken, lingering between them like the embers of a fire not yet burned out.
Estinien exhaled through his nose, fingers flexing over his knee before he finally spoke.
“…Back there. I reached for you without thinking.”
Kilani stilled, her eyes flicking up to him. He wasn’t looking at her, his gaze instead focused on the fire, the flickering light casting sharp shadows over his face.
“I know,” she said softly.
His jaw tensed, as if struggling to find the right words. “It was… instinct,” he admitted, repeating what he had told her before. But this time, his voice carried something else. A weight.
Kilani tilted her head slightly, watching him carefully. “And now?”
Estinien exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair. “Now I am left wondering why it didn’t feel like a mistake.”
Kilani’s breath hitched. She hadn’t expected him to say that—not so plainly. Not from someone like Estinien.
She considered her response, cautious not to push him. “Does it have to be?”
His eyes finally met hers, and for the first time, she saw it clearly—uncertainty. Not fear, not resistance, but the quiet struggle of someone facing something unfamiliar.
“…I am not a man given to sentiment,” he murmured.
Kilani offered a small smile. “I never asked you to be.”
He held her gaze a moment longer before looking away, his fingers tightening briefly before relaxing.
“There is no place for softness in battle,” he muttered, almost to himself. “No place for hesitation.”
Kilani nodded. “But we’re not in battle right now.”
Silence stretched between them.
Estinien let out a slow breath, shifting slightly. Then, almost hesitantly, he reached out. His hand hovered just for a moment before settling next to hers on the ground—close, but not quite touching.
Kilani glanced down at the space between them, her heart pounding. She could close the gap. But she didn’t.
She would let him decide.
And after a moment, his fingers brushed against hers—tentative, uncertain, but there.
Kilani smiled softly. “Not a mistake, then.”
Estinien huffed, shaking his head slightly. “No… not a mistake.”
The fire crackled between them, and the night stretched on, quiet and unhurried. For now, that was enough.
Chapter List:
chapter nine. The fire had burned low, its embers casting a faint glow over the rocky overhang where they sat. The silence between them was not awkward but thick with meaning, the weight of the night’s conversation lingering in the cool air.
Kilani hadn’t moved her hand. Neither had Estinien. Their fingers barely touched, yet the small connection felt impossibly significant. She could feel the tension in the way he held himself—rigid, as if uncertain of his own actions.
She wasn’t sure how long they sat like that, their hands brushing but not quite entwined. Eventually, Estinien let out a breath, withdrawing his hand with measured slowness. Not as a rejection, but as someone who had just stepped too close to an edge and needed to steady himself.
Kilani didn’t press. She merely folded her hands in her lap, offering him space.
Estinien shifted, his gray eyes focused on the flames. “I never gave much thought to matters like this,” he admitted, voice low. “Romance, attachment… I thought them distractions. Unnecessary.”
Kilani nodded, though she wasn’t sure if he could see it. “And now?”
He was quiet for a long moment. Then, with the smallest of smirks, he said, “Now, I find myself distracted.”
Kilani let out a quiet chuckle. “By what?”
Estinien gave her a sidelong glance, as if debating his answer. Finally, he sighed, tilting his head back against the rock. “By you.”
Her breath caught slightly, though she kept her composure. “Oh?”
A dry huff of laughter left him. “Don’t make me say it twice.”
Kilani smiled, warmth creeping into her chest. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
He exhaled, closing his eyes briefly. “I don’t know what to do with it.”
She studied him carefully, his usual confidence tempered by rare uncertainty. “You don’t have to do anything,” she said gently. “Just… let it be what it is.”
Estinien was quiet again, but something in his expression shifted. Acceptance, perhaps, or at least the beginnings of it.
“…You make it sound simple.”
Kilani shrugged. “It doesn’t have to be complicated.”
He gave her a long look, as if trying to decipher something. Then, almost imperceptibly, he nodded.
The conversation drifted into silence, the weight between them no longer quite so heavy. It was not a resolution, not yet. But it was a beginning.
Chapter List:
chapter ten. The next evening's fire had dwindled to embers, casting flickering shadows against the stone. The night air was crisp, filled only with the distant rustling of wind through the mountains.
Kilani sat beside Estinien, her knees drawn up slightly, fingers curled around the edge of her cloak for warmth. She wasn’t shivering, but she felt the cold creeping in.
Estinien’s voice broke the silence. “You’re cold.”
She blinked at him, surprised. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
He didn’t answer right away. His eyes flickered to her hands, then to the fire, as if weighing something in his mind.
Then, without hesitation, he reached out.
Kilani stiffened slightly as his fingers brushed over hers, warm despite the chill in the air. It wasn’t an accident, not a fleeting touch—he was deliberate, certain, as he took her hand in his.
She swallowed, her heart thudding painfully against her ribs. “Estinien?”
He didn’t meet her gaze at first, his thumb grazing lightly over the back of her hand as if testing the motion. “You were right,” he said at last, voice quieter than before. “I keep my guard up. Even when I don’t need to.”
Kilani felt warmth rise to her face, her fingers flexing slightly beneath his. “I wasn’t trying to—”
“I know,” he interrupted gently. His grip firmed just slightly, steady. “But I think… I’m tired of standing alone.”
She let out a slow breath, her fingers tightening around his in silent understanding.
Estinien finally looked at her then, something softer in his gaze than she had ever seen before. “This isn’t as difficult as I thought it would be.”
Kilani smiled, unable to help herself. “No,” she agreed. “It’s not.”
They didn’t move for a long moment, simply sitting in quiet warmth, hands entwined between them. And for the first time, Estinien didn’t feel the urge to pull away.
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chapter eleven. The night stretched on, but neither Kilani nor Estinien moved. The fire had all but died, yet the warmth of his hand in hers lingered. It was an unfamiliar kind of warmth, one not born of battle or survival—but something else entirely.
Kilani stole a glance at him, expecting hesitation, but Estinien’s grip remained firm, his expression unreadable as he stared into the dying embers.
“Do you regret it?” she asked softly.
Estinien’s brow furrowed as he turned to her. “Regret what?”
“This.” She lifted their joined hands slightly before letting them settle again. “Reaching out.”
He huffed, shaking his head. “If I did, I wouldn’t still be holding on.”
Kilani felt her face warm, and she turned away slightly, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I suppose that’s true.”
A quiet moment passed before Estinien spoke again. “This is new to me.”
She glanced at him, waiting.
His gaze flickered to their hands, then back to her. “Not the fight. Not the cause. But this—” His fingers flexed against hers for emphasis. “—this is unfamiliar ground.”
Kilani’s chest tightened, but she kept her voice light. “Well, you are a Dragoon. I thought you were good at navigating difficult terrain.”
Estinien snorted, shaking his head. “That’s different.”
“Is it?” she teased, tilting her head.
He exhaled sharply, though there was no real irritation in his expression. “You find amusement in this, don’t you?”
Kilani chuckled. “Only a little.”
Estinien went quiet again, but he didn’t let go. If anything, his grip remained steady, a silent reassurance more than anything else.
After a moment, he spoke again, voice quieter now. “I don’t know what this means yet.”
Kilani’s smile softened. “Then we’ll figure it out together.”
Estinien turned to her fully this time, searching her face for something. Whatever he found there seemed to ease some unspoken tension in his shoulders.
“…Alright,” he murmured.
The embers flickered once more before fading into the dark, but neither of them moved. And for the first time, Estinien found himself willing to let the moment last.
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chapter twelve. The first light of dawn bled across the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pale gold and soft lavender. The fire had long since died, leaving only faint wisps of smoke curling into the crisp morning air.
Kilani stirred first, blinking against the light filtering through the mountain peaks. Her cloak had slipped from her shoulders in the night, but warmth still lingered at her side.
It took her a moment to register why.
Estinien was still beside her, their hands loosely clasped between them.
Her heart jumped slightly at the sight—he hadn’t let go. Even in sleep, his grip remained gentle, steady.
Kilani swallowed, suddenly unsure what to do. If she moved, would he wake? Would he pull away and pretend it never happened?
She barely had time to think before Estinien shifted.
A slow, deep breath left him as he stirred, his fingers twitching against hers before his eyes fluttered open. It took a moment for awareness to settle in, for him to realize where he was—what he was doing.
Kilani held her breath, waiting for him to pull away.
But he didn’t.
His gaze flickered down to their hands, and instead of jerking back, his fingers curled slightly, a silent acknowledgment.
Kilani’s lips parted, searching for something to say, but Estinien beat her to it.
“You’re staring,” he muttered, his voice rough with sleep.
Kilani’s face heated instantly. “I—wasn’t!”
Estinien exhaled through his nose, something suspiciously close to amusement flickering in his tired gaze. “You were.”
Kilani huffed, rolling her eyes. “Well, excuse me for being surprised you’re not running off already.”
He hesitated at that, his thumb absentmindedly brushing against the back of her hand. “I thought about it.”
Kilani blinked. “Oh.”
His grip didn’t waver. “But I didn’t.”
A slow warmth spread through her chest, equal parts relief and something deeper she didn’t dare name just yet. “No,” she said softly. “You didn’t.”
Silence stretched between them again, but this time, it felt different. Less uncertain. Less fleeting.
Finally, Estinien exhaled, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts. “We should get moving.”
Kilani nodded, but neither of them made an effort to move just yet. Their hands remained clasped between them, neither holding too tightly nor letting go.
The morning had brought no answers, no sudden revelations—only the quiet understanding that something between them had shifted.
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chapter thirteen. The journey back to Ishgard was quiet, but not in the way it had been before. The silence between them no longer felt like a wall—rather, it was something waiting to be crossed.
Kilani caught Estinien glancing at her more than once, though he said nothing. He seemed deep in thought, his jaw set, his fingers flexing slightly at his sides as if warring with himself.
She, too, was lost in thought.
Returning to Ishgard meant stepping back into a city that had never truly welcomed her. Though she had long since proven herself in battle, though she had fought for their people, the memory of cold stares and hushed whispers lingered. The scars left by Nidhogg’s wrath were not just on her body—they were in the way Ishgardians looked at her, as if she were something to be feared.
Her steps slowed before she even realized it.
Estinien noticed.
He stopped abruptly, turning to face her. Kilani barely managed to halt before bumping into him.
“Estinien?” she asked, blinking up at him.
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he studied her face, his gaze searching. Then, without a word, he reached out, brushing his fingers over hers before taking hold.
Kilani stiffened, caught off guard by the quiet certainty of his touch. “What are you doing?”
“Something I should have done sooner.” His grip was firm, steady. The kind of hold that told her he had no intention of letting go.
Her breath caught. “You don’t have to—”
“I do,” he cut in, his voice soft but resolute. “You’re hesitating.”
Kilani swallowed, her fingers twitching against his. “…I don’t want to go back.”
Estinien didn’t ask why. He didn’t need to.
He had walked the same streets, heard the same whispers, felt the weight of being something others feared. He had been alone in it for so long—too long.
After a moment, he exhaled. “Then don’t go alone.”
Kilani looked up at him, startled by the sheer simplicity of his words.
Then, before she could say anything else, he leaned in.
The kiss was slow, uncertain at first, like testing the weight of a new weapon in hand. But the moment Kilani responded—fingers curling against his chest, breath mingling with his—it deepened into something more certain.
By the time they parted, her heart was racing, and the cold no longer seemed to bite quite as harshly.
Estinien let out a breath, his forehead nearly touching hers. “We face Ishgard together. No matter what comes.”
Kilani swallowed, her grip tightening around his. “But what if they don’t accept me? What if—” She hesitated, her voice quieter now. “What if they see me as a monster?”
Estinien’s expression hardened—not with anger, but with something resolute, unshakable. “Then they are fools.”
She looked up at him, startled by the conviction in his voice.
“Ishgard has always feared what it does not understand,” he continued, his tone steady. “I know that better than most. But you are not some beast lurking in the shadows, Kilani. You are a warrior. You have bled for that city, fought for its people.” His grip on her hand tightened. “If they cannot see that, then to hells with them.”
Her breath shuddered as she tried to blink away the sting in her eyes. “It’s not that simple.”
“No,” he admitted, softer this time. “But you won’t face it alone.”
Kilani exhaled shakily, staring down at their joined hands. “You promise?”
Estinien didn’t hesitate. He lifted her hand slightly, pressing it to his chest, where beneath the cold steel of his armor, his heart beat steady and sure. “On my life.”
Something in her chest unclenched. She hadn’t even realized she’d been holding onto that fear so tightly until now.
She nodded slowly, and Estinien gave her hand one last squeeze before releasing it—only for her fingers to tighten around his, keeping him there.
For the first time in a long time, she felt safe.
Chapter List:
chapter fourteen. The bitter cold of Coerthas bit through Kilani’s cloak as Ishgard’s towering gates loomed ahead. She had never feared the cold before—her body, half-marked by dragon’s scales, weathered it better than most. But today, it wasn’t the wind that made her stomach twist.
It was returning to the city she wasn’t sure would accept her.
Beside her, Estinien strode forward without hesitation, his armor gleaming under the pale light of a clouded sky. His presence should have been a comfort, but the weight of uncertainty sat heavy in her chest.
They had barely passed the first checkpoint when the temple knights stationed there straightened at the sight of them. One of them, a young Elezen with sharp eyes, stepped forward. “Ser Estinien,” he greeted, his gaze flickering to Kilani before a flash of recognition crossed his face. His expression faltered.
Kilani saw it—that brief hesitation, the shift in posture. Her jaw tightened, but she forced herself to meet his gaze evenly.
“She returns as an ally,” Estinien stated firmly, as if daring anyone to challenge him. “The war is over, but if there’s anyone left in this city who doubts that—” He let the weight of his words settle.
The knight hesitated before bowing stiffly. “You may pass.”
Kilani let out a slow breath as they walked through the gates. Her fingers curled into the fabric of her cloak, her tail swishing uneasily behind her. She could feel the eyes on her—curious, wary, some outright distrustful.
“Ishgard has a long memory,” she murmured. “They’ll never forget what I am.”
Estinien glanced at her. “Let them remember,” he said simply. “And let them see you now.”
His words made something stir in her chest—something warm, steady.
They continued through the Pillars, each step taking her deeper into the past she had once fled from. But this time, she wasn’t running. And this time, she wasn’t alone.
Kilani kept her head high as they made their way through, but she could feel the weight of every glance, every hushed whisper that followed in their wake.
“Is that her?”
“The one with the dragon’s blood?”
“I thought she vanished after the war…”
She gritted her teeth, her claws flexing beneath the folds of her cloak. No outright hostility—at least, not yet. But the judgment was there, lurking behind carefully measured stares.
Estinien walked beside her without pause, as steady as ever. His presence alone seemed to quell some of the murmurs, though she doubted it would last. Even the Azure Dragoon could not silence the fear that ran deep in Ishgardian veins.
As they approached the Forgotten Knight, Kilani hesitated. The familiar scent of ale and aged wood drifted from the open doorway, a reminder of the nights she had spent here before the war—before everything changed.
Estinien caught the pause in her step. “Do you want to go in?”
She exhaled slowly, then nodded. “Might as well get used to the stares.”
Inside, the tavern was warm, filled with the low hum of conversation and the clatter of mugs against wooden tables. As they stepped in, the chatter didn’t stop, but it shifted. She felt it immediately—the weight of recognition, the cautious glances.
Behind the counter, Jannequinard looked up from polishing a glass. His brows lifted slightly before a knowing smirk curved his lips. “Well, well. Thought I heard a familiar name drifting through the streets.” He leaned on the counter, eyeing her. “Back to stay, or just passing through?”
Kilani took a breath, forcing herself to relax her shoulders. “Haven’t decided yet.”
The Elezen hummed, setting the glass down. “Then I hope you don’t mind an old friend offering a drink while you decide.” He poured a measure of something dark into a mug and slid it across the counter.
Kilani hesitated before taking it. “Not everyone would call me a friend these days.”
Jannequinard shrugged. “Not everyone’s got good sense, either.”
Estinien smirked faintly, leaning against the bar beside her. “Took the words right from my mouth.”
Kilani allowed herself a small smile as she wrapped her fingers around the mug. Maybe Ishgard’s memory was long. Maybe the whispers would never stop.
But in this moment, surrounded by warmth and the quiet strength of the man beside her, she felt something close to hope.
The warmth of the Forgotten Knight had long settled into their bones, aided by more than a few mugs of strong Ishgardian ale. Kilani wasn’t sure how many drinks had passed between them—only that the tension in her shoulders had loosened, her thoughts pleasantly hazy.
Estinien sat beside her, his usual rigid posture softened by drink, one arm braced lazily against the bar. His white hair had fallen slightly out of place, the loose strands framing his face in a way that made him look… almost boyish.
Almost.
Kilani laughed under her breath and took another sip, barely tasting the liquor at this point. “You’re staring,” she muttered.
Estinien blinked, then scoffed. “Am not.”
She arched a brow at him, tilting her head. “Are too.”
His lips parted as if to argue, but instead, he exhaled sharply and looked away. “Hells, maybe I am.”
Kilani’s fingers curled around her mug. Something about the way he said it—unfiltered, blunt in the way only Estinien could be—sent a slow, crawling warmth through her that had nothing to do with the alcohol.
A beat of silence passed between them, stretched tight like a drawn bowstring.
The air in the tavern was thick, filled with the low murmur of voices, the occasional burst of laughter. Yet in this moment, it felt as though the world had narrowed down to just the two of them.
Kilani swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. She could feel the weight of his gaze again, even as he stubbornly avoided hers.
Something dangerous lurked in the edges of this moment, something unspoken but undeniable.
A part of her wanted to lean into it. To press closer, to see if the embers smoldering between them would catch fire.
But another part—one tempered by years of restraint, of knowing better—held her back.
Estinien shifted beside her, his fingers drumming absently against the wood of the bar. “We should—” He cleared his throat, dragging a hand through his hair. “We should probably stop drinking.”
Kilani exhaled a quiet laugh, though it sounded more breathless than she intended. “Yeah. Probably.”
Neither of them moved.
Her tail twitched behind her, betraying her nerves. “I should—” She started to stand, but the motion sent a wave of dizziness crashing over her.
A firm hand caught her wrist, steadying her before she could fall back onto the stool.
She looked down at where his fingers wrapped around her, then up at him. His expression was unreadable, but his grip lingered for just a second longer than necessary before he released her.
Something had changed.
Neither of them said it, neither of them acted on it. But they both felt it.
Kilani took a slow breath, forcing a smirk as she straightened. “Come on, Azure Dragoon. Let’s get out of here before we make fools of ourselves.”
Estinien let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head as he stood. “Too late for that.”
They walked side by side into the cold Ishgardian night, the tension between them a fraying thread, waiting—aching—to snap.
Chapter List:
chapter fifteen. The cold Ishgardian air bit at Kilani’s flushed skin as they stepped out into the night, their breath curling in soft plumes. The city had quieted, the distant hum of voices from the taverns and barracks fading as the streets emptied.
Kilani pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders, glancing at Estinien as they walked. He was uncharacteristically silent, his usual sharp-edged confidence dulled by drink and… something else.
Something neither of them were ready to name.
“Where are we going?” she asked, her voice softer than she intended.
Estinien hesitated for the briefest moment before answering. “My quarters.”
Kilani blinked, but he didn’t look at her as he said it. Just kept walking, as if the decision had been made without him fully realizing it.
She had nowhere else to go, not yet. Returning to the inn meant solitude, and solitude meant confronting the thoughts swirling in her head. Maybe he felt the same.
Neither of them questioned it further.
The walk was quiet, save for the occasional gust of wind whistling through the stone corridors. By the time they reached the door to his quarters, Kilani’s mind had sobered just enough to feel the weight of the moment settle over her.
Estinien pushed the door open and stepped inside first, the dim glow of a single lantern casting flickering shadows along the walls. It was simple—practical, much like the man himself. A sturdy bed, a desk strewn with maps and weapons in need of repair, a chair by the small hearth where the embers of a fire still glowed faintly.
Kilani hesitated before stepping inside, suddenly aware of how quiet it was. How close they were.
Estinien shrugged off his armor piece by piece, his movements slower than usual. The weight of the night, of the unspoken tension between them, hung heavy in the air.
Kilani swallowed, her fingers fidgeting at the edge of her cloak. “You sure about this?”
He turned to her, his gray eyes catching the firelight. “It’s just a place to rest.”
She nodded, but something in his tone made her wonder if he was trying to convince himself more than her.
She moved toward the chair by the fire, but before she could sit, Estinien reached for a spare blanket and tossed it toward the bed. “Take it.”
Kilani blinked. “You’re giving me the bed?”
“I’ve slept in worse places.” He smirked slightly. “Not about to let you freeze because of some misplaced sense of courtesy.”
She eyed him for a moment, but there was no teasing in his expression, no hidden intent. Just a quiet sort of certainty.
With a small nod, she sat on the edge of the bed, pulling off her gloves and stretching out her fingers. The warmth of the fire flickered against her skin, but it wasn’t enough to chase away the feeling that something was shifting between them.
Kilani expected the quiet, the usual stillness of the room, but what she didn’t expect was for him to step past her, set his lance against the wall, and reach for a bottle of wine.
She arched a brow as he pulled the cork free with practiced ease. “So, this is how the Azure Dragoon entertains guests?”
Estinien smirked, pouring two cups. “I’d hardly call this entertaining.” He glanced toward the far corner of the room, where an old orchestrion sat gathering dust. With a flick of his wrist, he set it playing—a slow, lilting melody, soft enough to fill the space without demanding attention.
Kilani took the cup he offered, watching him with a bemused expression. “I didn’t take you for someone who cared for music.”
“I don’t,” he admitted, taking a sip of his drink. “But it’s better than silence.”
Kilani hummed, settling onto the bed, cradling the cup between her fingers. The fire cast flickering shadows across the walls, the warm glow making everything feel… softer.
Estinien leaned back against the desk, watching her with that unreadable look of his. Not wary, not distant—just watching.
A silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The kind of quiet that felt like something was waiting just beneath the surface.
Kilani set her drink down beside her, flexing her fingers idly. Before she could think twice about it, she reached out, her fingertips brushing over the back of his hand.
He tensed for only a second before his fingers curled slightly, instinctively meeting hers.
Her lips twitched. “I thought you didn’t like unnecessary closeness.”
Estinien huffed. “This is hardly unnecessary.”
Her heart did a strange little twist in her chest. She expected him to pull away, to make some sarcastic remark, but instead, he turned his hand over, lacing his fingers through hers.
Slowly. Deliberately.
Kilani swallowed, unsure if it was the wine or the moment making her pulse quicken. “So, this is what happens when you get sentimental.”
“I wouldn’t call it that.” His thumb brushed absently against her knuckles.
Kilani exhaled a quiet laugh, tilting her head up at him. “Then what would you call it?”
Estinien said nothing. Instead, his gaze flickered down to where their hands rested together, then back up to her face.
Then, with the same certainty he carried into battle, he leaned in.
It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t desperate—just sure. His lips brushed against hers, light as a whisper, testing the waters. When she didn’t pull away, when her fingers tightened around his, he pressed in just a little more, enough to steal the breath from her lungs.
Kilani’s eyes fluttered closed as warmth spread through her, deeper than any drink could offer.
When they finally parted, neither moved far. Their foreheads nearly touched, their breaths mingling in the space between them.
For once, there were no witty remarks, no teasing words to break the moment.
Just them.
The space between them felt thinner than air, charged with something neither of them spoke of—something neither of them had dared to name.
Kilani's breath was unsteady, her heart hammering against her ribs as Estinien remained close, his fingers still entwined with hers. He hadn't let go.
She should have pulled away. Should have made some teasing remark to break the tension, to ground them back in the safety of familiarity. But she didn't. She couldn't.
Not when his gaze darkened with something she had never seen before—not with battle-worn fury, not with stubborn defiance, but with quiet, unshaken intent.
The wine had left a pleasant warmth in her veins, but this... this was something else entirely.
Estinien’s hand lifted, brushing along the curve of her jaw, his touch calloused but achingly gentle. He was always so sure in battle, in the way he carried his lance, in the way he struck down dragons without hesitation. And now, he was just as sure in this. In her.
Kilani swallowed, her breath catching as his fingers trailed lower, skimming the line of her throat before retreating—hesitant, yet lingering, as though waiting for her to close the distance.
And she almost did.
Almost.
Her fingers tightened around his, anchoring herself in the moment, in the weight of it all. “Estinien…”
His name was barely above a whisper, but it was enough to still him, his breath hitching as he exhaled slowly.
For a moment, neither of them moved, caught in the fragile balance between caution and want.
Then, instead of closing the distance between them, Estinien’s grip softened, thumb tracing over her knuckles. He let out a quiet huff, somewhere between amusement and resignation. “I think…” he murmured, voice lower than before, “…if I stay this close much longer, I won’t be able to stop myself.”
Kilani’s lips parted, her pulse roaring in her ears. He wasn't asking for permission. He was warning her.
And gods help her, she wasn’t sure she wanted him to stop.
Still, she managed a breathless laugh, her fingers tightening just slightly around his. “Since when do you hesitate?”
Estinien’s gaze flickered over her face, searching. Weighing. Then, instead of answering, he released her hand, only to let his fingers drift to her waist, resting there—not pulling her in, not pushing her away. Just waiting.
Kilani leaned in, her lips barely brushing his, their breaths mingling in the sliver of space left between them. The anticipation was intoxicating, more potent than any wine, more consuming than any battlefield.
But then, just before the moment could spiral into something unstoppable, Estinien drew back with a sharp inhale, as if breaking free from a spell.
“…Not like this,” he murmured, voice strained. “Not yet.”
Kilani blinked, still dazed, still caught in the gravity of him. But then she saw it—the way his fingers trembled slightly against her waist before he pulled away entirely, the way his jaw tightened as he exhaled through his nose.
He wanted this. Gods, he wanted her. But he refused to let the moment be dictated by drink or impulse.
And strangely, that made her heart ache even more.
Kilani let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, offering him a small, knowing smile. “You always did have more restraint than me.”
Estinien scoffed, raking a hand through his hair as he turned toward the table, as if putting distance between them would help. “Hardly.”
The heat between them lingered, unspoken yet undeniable, stretching taut like a bowstring—drawn, but not yet loosed.
Not yet.
Kilani watched as Estinien put distance between them, his back to her as he reached for the half-finished bottle of wine. The tension still crackled in the air, unrelenting, but instead of pressing him further, she let out a quiet breath and shook her head.
“If we’re stopping here,” she said, her voice lighter than she felt, “then at the very least, we should share the bed. It’s big enough.”
Estinien stilled, his grip tightening briefly around the bottle’s neck. Slowly, he turned to face her, an unreadable expression in his eyes.
Kilani raised a brow. “What? You’d rather sleep on the floor like some brooding martyr?”
He huffed, setting the bottle down with more force than necessary. “Tch. I’ve slept in worse places.”
She smirked, tilting her head. “And yet, I’d wager you wouldn’t turn down a warm bed after a long night.”
Estinien’s gaze flickered over her, sharp yet hesitant. She wasn’t pressing him, wasn’t teasing with the intent to push further—but the offer still stood between them, tempting in its own right.
After a long beat, he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “…Fine.”
Kilani grinned. “Good. I promise not to steal the blankets.”
He shot her a dry look. “Somehow, I doubt that.”
Still, as she turned toward the bed, pulling back the covers, Estinien hesitated only a moment longer before following. Even with a gap of space left between them, the warmth of her so close was unmistakable. The night had not played out as either of them expected, but as Kilani let her eyes drift shut, she knew one thing for certain—this would not be the last time they found themselves like this.
Chapter List:
chapter sixteen. The first rays of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. Estinien had always been an early riser, a habit born from years of battle and discipline, but this morning, he found himself uncharacteristically still.
His gaze rested on Kilani, who was just beginning to stir beneath the covers. Her hair, wild from sleep, spilled across the pillow in short waves of black, and for a moment, she looked… peaceful. Unburdened.
It was rare to see her like this—without the weight of battle on her shoulders, without the sharpness of her wit at the ready. He allowed himself the indulgence of watching her, taking in the way her chest rose and fell with each slow breath.
Then, she stretched.
Her arms reached overhead, her back arching slightly as she shifted beneath the blankets. A quiet, breathy sound slipped past her lips—soft, content, completely unguarded.
Something in Estinien’s chest tightened.
He swallowed, dragging a hand down his face as if the motion could steady him. Gods, what was he doing? He had spent years keeping his heart walled off, refusing to let anything or anyone slip past his defenses. And yet, here he was, watching Kilani stretch in the morning light like some lovesick fool.
Before he could dwell on it further, Kilani let out a sleepy murmur and blinked her golden eyes open. They were still hazy with sleep, unfocused at first, but then they landed on him—curious, warm, and entirely too perceptive.
A slow, knowing smirk curled at the corners of her lips. “Were you watching me just now?”
Estinien scoffed, turning his head toward the window as if the sunrise was suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
Kilani chuckled, propping herself up on her elbows. “Mhm, sure. That doesn’t explain why you look guilty.”
He huffed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
Kilani stretched again, deliberately this time, another small noise escaping her lips. She must have caught the way his jaw clenched, because her smirk widened.
“Careful,” she teased, voice still husky with sleep. “Look at me too long and you might start liking me, Estinien.”
His breath hitched—not enough for most to notice, but Kilani wasn’t most.
She tilted her head, watching him carefully, as if waiting for him to snap back with one of his usual sharp remarks. But instead of a retort, he simply stared at her, something unreadable flickering in his expression.
Kilani’s smirk faltered, just slightly.
The playful air between them shifted, giving way to something quieter.
He didn’t look away this time.
“…Too late for that,” he muttered, almost too soft for her to hear.
Kilani blinked, caught off guard. Her lips parted as if to say something, but for once, no words came.
Estinien exhaled sharply and stood, reaching for his armor with a shake of his head. “Come. We’ve things to do today.”
Kilani remained still for a moment, watching his retreating form, her heart hammering against her ribs.
Then, she smiled.
Perhaps the morning had revealed more than either of them had expected.
Chapter List:
chapter seventeen. The cold Ishgardian air bit at Kilani’s skin as she and Estinien strode through the Pillars, their breath forming faint clouds in the crisp morning. The streets were bustling with knights and nobles alike, though Kilani noticed the way some of them cast furtive glances in her direction—some curious, others wary. She ignored them.
Estinien walked beside her, his usual stride unbothered, but Kilani could sense the tension lingering in the set of his shoulders. He wasn’t one for prolonged stays in Ishgard, and though he had brought her here, she suspected he wasn’t entirely sure why.
They had barely crossed the threshold of the Congregation when a familiar voice greeted them.
“Estinien. And Lady Kilani, if I am not mistaken.”
Kilani turned to see Lord Aymeric approaching, his composed expression softening with quiet warmth. He was clad in his usual finery, a striking contrast to Estinien’s ever-practical armor.
“Aymeric,” Estinien greeted with a nod.
Kilani inclined her head slightly, though she couldn’t quite shake the wariness creeping up her spine. She had never met the man before, yet he spoke her name as though they were long acquainted.
“I had heard rumor of your return, but I confess I did not expect it to be so soon,” Aymeric continued, his piercing gaze flicking between them. “Nor did I anticipate that you would bring company.”
Estinien let out a short huff, crossing his arms. “Kilani has business of her own. I merely saw fit to accompany her.”
Aymeric’s lips twitched. “How chivalrous of you.”
Kilani stifled a laugh as Estinien shot him a glare.
The lord turned his attention fully to her then, his expression more thoughtful. “Forgive me if I seem forward, but your presence here has not gone unnoticed. There are many in Ishgard who will find your… unique appearance a matter of discussion.”
Kilani felt her jaw tighten. She knew well enough what he meant. Even in her usual garb, there was no hiding the blackened scales across her skin, the lingering remnants of Nidhogg’s influence. To many, she was a walking reminder of the wounds Ishgard had yet to fully heal.
“I didn’t come here to cause trouble,” she said evenly.
Aymeric shook his head. “I did not think you did. But not all will be so understanding.”
Kilani opened her mouth to respond, but Estinien beat her to it.
“Let them talk,” he said, his voice carrying the quiet weight of finality. “She is here as she is. If Ishgard cannot look past its ghosts, that is its failing, not hers.”
The declaration caught her off guard, and Kilani found herself staring at him, warmth creeping into her chest.
Aymeric studied Estinien for a long moment before offering a knowing smile. “I see.”
Kilani narrowed her eyes slightly. “See what?”
Aymeric merely shook his head, ever the picture of diplomacy. “Nothing at all. If you require any assistance during your stay, know that the Congregation stands ready to aid you.”
Kilani held his gaze, trying to read between the lines of his carefully chosen words. Eventually, she nodded. “Thank you, Lord Aymeric.”
He inclined his head. “I shall leave you to your business. But do try not to cause too much of a stir, Estinien.”
Estinien scoffed. “No promises.”
Aymeric chuckled before taking his leave, disappearing into the halls of the Congregation.
Kilani exhaled, folding her arms as she turned back to Estinien. “He’s perceptive.”
“He’s insufferable,” Estinien muttered, running a hand through his hair.
Kilani smirked. “Mm. And yet, he seems to know you rather well.”
Estinien shot her a look but said nothing.
Kilani merely grinned, falling into step beside him once more. Whatever awaited them in Ishgard, she had a feeling their arrival was only the beginning.
She and Estinien made their way through the heart of Ishgard. Despite the cold wind biting at her cheeks, the city was alive with activity—knights patrolling the streets, merchants calling out their wares, and the ever-present hum of hushed conversations.
But Kilani had little time to dwell on the wary glances cast her way. There was work to be done.
Estinien led her toward the Congregation once more, though instead of entering, they veered toward a side courtyard, where several dragoons were already engaged in rigorous training. The sharp clang of steel against steel filled the air, and Kilani felt a familiar rush of excitement at the sight of the battle-hardened warriors honing their craft.
One of the knights—a tall Elezen with close-cropped silver hair—noticed them first. His gaze flickered over Kilani before settling on Estinien. “So the rumors were true. The Azure Dragoon returns.”
Estinien exhaled through his nose, clearly uninterested in pleasantries. “Spare me the formalities, Ser Alveraux. We’ve come to spar, not reminisce.”
Kilani arched a brow. “‘We’?”
Estinien cast her a sideways glance. “Unless you’d rather stand on the sidelines and watch.”
She scoffed. “Not a chance.”
Alveraux smirked, giving her an appraising look. “You must be Kilani, then. Word travels fast in Ishgard.”
Kilani shifted her weight, meeting his gaze without hesitation. “That so?”
The knight nodded. “A dragoon who bears the scars of Nidhogg’s influence—it’s a tale some find difficult to believe.”
Kilani clenched her fists at her sides, but Estinien spoke before she could respond.
“Then let her prove it.” He stepped forward, resting a hand on his hip. “You and I both know skill speaks louder than rumors.”
Alveraux regarded him for a moment before nodding. “Very well. Let’s see what she’s made of.”
Kilani needed no further invitation. Without hesitation, she strode toward the training circle, rolling her shoulders in preparation.
Estinien moved to the edge of the ring, his gaze steady as he watched her. She could feel his unspoken confidence in her, and it sent a thrill through her veins.
Alveraux readied his lance, taking a practiced stance. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Kilani smirked. “Oh, I’m always ready.”
With that, she lunged, the weight of her spear an extension of her own body. Alveraux met her strike with practiced ease, their weapons clashing in a symphony of steel and skill. The battle was swift, each of them testing the other, probing for weaknesses.
But Kilani was no novice. She had fought dragons, danced on the edge of death itself. And she had trained beside the greatest dragoon of them all.
Within moments, she found her opening—ducking low and sweeping her spear in a precise arc that knocked Alveraux’s weapon off-balance. She surged forward, the tip of her spear stopping just short of his throat.
Silence fell over the courtyard.
Then, Alveraux chuckled. “Impressive.”
Kilani pulled back, offering a small smirk. “Told you.”
Estinien watched from the sidelines, his arms crossed. Though his face was impassive, Kilani could see the flicker of approval in his eyes.
As Alveraux straightened, he glanced at Estinien. “She’s good. No wonder you brought her along.”
Estinien merely grunted. “I didn’t ‘bring’ her. She would have come regardless.”
Kilani turned to him, tilting her head. “Is that your way of saying you respect my choices?”
Estinien exhaled sharply, looking away. “Don’t push your luck.”
Alveraux laughed, shaking his head. “I like her.”
Kilani grinned, planting her spear into the ground. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”
And with that, she knew—whatever doubts lingered about her presence in Ishgard, she would carve her own place here. One battle at a time.
Chapter List:
chapter eighteen. The heat of the bathwater wrapped around Kilani like a comforting embrace, easing the tightness in her muscles as she let herself sink deeper. A quiet sigh left her lips, eyes fluttering shut, allowing the warmth to lull her into a peaceful haze.
On the other side of the partition, Estinien sat with his arms stretched along the bath’s edge, the steam curling around him. He had intended to relax, to let the exhaustion of the day melt away—but his mind refused to quiet.
Through the slats of the wooden divider, he caught glimpses of Kilani, her body shifting slightly as she adjusted in the water. Droplets glistened on her skin, trailing down toned arms, over the sharp curve of her shoulders, disappearing beneath the surface.
She was powerful—years of battle had carved strength into every fiber of her being. And yet, in this moment, she looked completely at ease, bathed in soft candlelight and drifting steam.
Estinien swallowed hard, his fingers tightening along the bath’s edge.
This was dangerous. She was dangerous.
“You sound tense.”
Kilani’s voice, smooth and teasing, cut through his thoughts.
“I am not tense,” he muttered, too quickly, too defensive.
Kilani chuckled, stretching her arms above her head, the movement exposing the subtle curves of her waist, the arch of her spine. “You keep saying that,” she murmured.
Estinien forced himself to look away, exhaling sharply through his nose. “We should get going before we turn into prunes.”
She smirked. “Running away from relaxation now?”
Ignoring her teasing, he pushed himself up, stepping out of the bath and reaching for a towel. Kilani followed suit, wrapping herself in the plush fabric before shaking out her damp hair.
The cold air of Ishgard bit at their skin as they stepped back onto the streets, but the residual heat from the bath lingered between them, creating an odd, charged warmth in the space they shared. They walked in silence, side by side, toward Estinien’s dwelling.
Once inside, Kilani moved instinctively toward the fireplace, stoking the embers to life. The soft glow illuminated her features, casting flickering shadows against the walls. Estinien stood behind her, watching her with an unreadable expression, his fists clenching at his sides.
He couldn’t do this anymore.
“Kilani.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him, a hint of curiosity in her golden eyes. “Hmm?”
Estinien exhaled, dragging a hand through his damp hair. He had never been good at this—talking about what lingered in his chest, laying his thoughts bare. But if he ignored it any longer, he feared it would consume him.
“I need to say something,” he began, his voice low and steady. “About… us.”
Kilani straightened, turning fully to face him now, the firelight dancing in her gaze. “Go on.”
He swallowed. “I’ve tried to ignore it. To push it aside, pretend it isn’t there. But I can’t anymore.” His fingers twitched at his sides, as if waging a war against reaching for her. “I don’t know when it started, but I—” He stopped, shaking his head. “I care for you. More than I should. More than I ever expected to.”
Kilani’s breath hitched, and for the first time in a long while, she looked… unsure. “Estinien…”
He took a step closer, the fire’s glow casting sharp lines across his face. “Tell me if I’m wrong,” he murmured, voice quiet but firm. “If I’ve misread this.”
Kilani stared at him, her heart hammering in her chest. And then, instead of answering with words, she reached her hand out to him—fingers brushing against his, a silent answer in itself.
Estinien closed his eyes for a brief moment, letting out a slow exhale.
There was no more running from this.
The fire crackled softly, the only sound filling the space between them. Kilani’s fingers remained lightly curled around Estinien’s, warm and steady, tethering him to something he could no longer ignore. Neither of them moved, caught in the fragile, unspoken moment between confession and action.
Estinien had faced dragons, war, and death without flinching—but this? This was different. His heart pounded for reasons that had nothing to do with battle.
Kilani exhaled softly, searching his face. “You’re not wrong,” she murmured.
Relief flickered in his expression, subtle but unmistakable. His fingers tightened slightly around hers, hesitant but sure.
She smiled, something small and knowing. “So, what now?”
Estinien let out a quiet scoff, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”
Kilani smirked. “And yet, here you are.”
He sighed, finally leading her toward the hearth, where the fire’s glow wrapped them both in warmth. They settled onto the edge of the bed, side by side, their knees nearly touching.
“I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted after a long pause, staring into the flames.
Kilani tilted her head. “Be with someone?”
He exhaled, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Not just that. Be… open. Vulnerable.” His voice dropped lower. “It was easier when all I had was my duty, when I could pretend nothing else mattered.” He turned to her then, his eyes searching hers. “But then you came along, and suddenly, I can’t ignore it anymore.”
Kilani watched him carefully, golden eyes softening. “You don’t have to have all the answers, Estinien.”
He scoffed lightly. “I’m supposed to be decisive.”
She smiled. “You are. You chose to say something. That’s more than most would do.”
Estinien huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head before letting out a slow breath. His gaze flickered to her lips, just for a moment. Then, as if drawn by something beyond reason, he reached out to her, his fingers grazing her jaw before cupping her cheek, tilting her face toward his.
Kilani stilled, her breath catching, but she didn’t pull away.
His thumb brushed against her cheekbone, slow and deliberate. “I don’t know where this road leads,” he murmured, his voice rougher now. “But if you’ll have me, I’ll walk it with you.”
Kilani’s lips parted, something flickering in her eyes—something steady, something sure. But instead of answering with words, she leaned in, closing the distance.
The first kiss was tentative, almost hesitant. A testing of boundaries, an unspoken question.
Estinien answered it by deepening the kiss, his hand slipping from her cheek to cradle the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair. Kilani sighed softly against his lips, her hands finding purchase on his chest, gripping lightly as if grounding herself.
Whatever restraint he had was unraveling, slow but certain.
Kilani’s lips moved against his, teasing and warm, and the moment stretched, heated. A shiver ran down her spine as Estinien tilted his head, the kiss shifting from careful to something more insistent. A slow burn, not yet a fire, but threatening to become one.
Kilani’s hand trailed up, fingers tracing the line of his jaw before settling at the nape of his neck, drawing him closer.
When they finally parted, their breaths mingled, warm and uneven.
Estinien’s forehead rested against hers, his fingers still lost in her hair.
Kilani swallowed, voice barely above a whisper. “That was… unexpected.”
His lips quirked faintly. “Hardly.”
She huffed a laugh, but the sound faded as his fingers skimmed over her jaw once more, his expression turning unreadable.
Kilani turns behind her, glancing at the bed. “…I guess we have to share the bed again,” she said softly, breaking the silence.
Estinien arched a brow. “Are you sure that’s wise?”
Kilani smirked. “I think we both know wisdom left this room long ago.”
His chest rumbled with quiet laughter, but he didn’t argue.
No more running. No more denying.
The room had settled into a comfortable hush, the fire’s glow casting soft, flickering shadows along the stone walls. Outside, the city was still, blanketed in the quiet of the late hour. But within these walls, where warmth lingered between two entwined bodies, silence did not mean distance.
Kilani lay curled against Estinien’s side, her head resting just below his shoulder. His arm had found its place around her, strong but relaxed, fingers idly tracing the curve of her back through the fabric of her nightshirt. Each touch was light, almost absentminded, but she felt it all the same—the quiet reverence in the way he held her close.
She exhaled softly, pressing her cheek against his chest. “I didn’t expect you to be so warm.”
Estinien huffed a quiet laugh, the vibrations deep against her ear. “Dragoons aren’t known for their warmth.”
Kilani tilted her head up slightly, catching his gaze. “You are.”
His lips parted slightly as if to protest, but something in her eyes stilled him. She meant it. He could see it in the way she watched him, no jest or teasing lilt to her voice, just quiet certainty.
“…You’re dangerous,” he muttered, almost to himself.
Kilani smirked. “I know.”
Her hand slipped over his chest, fingers tracing slow, idle circles. Estinien inhaled sharply, his muscles tensing just slightly before he forced himself to relax.
“You do that on purpose,” he accused, voice low.
She hummed in response, feigning innocence as her fingers wandered higher, just barely brushing the skin at the base of his throat. “Do what?”
Estinien turned his head, burying his face into her hair for a moment before exhaling a long, steady breath. He would not be so easily undone.
Instead of answering, he shifted, rolling onto his side until there was no space left between them. His arm tightened around her waist, drawing her in, making his intent clear.
Kilani blinked up at him, lips parting slightly as her fingers stilled against his skin.
His voice was softer now, roughened by something unreadable. “If you want to tease, you should be ready to take what you give.”
She swallowed, heat creeping along her neck, but she didn’t back away. “Is that a challenge?”
Estinien smirked, eyes darkening just slightly. “It’s a promise.”
The space between them vanished entirely as he closed the distance, pressing his lips to hers. It was a slow kiss, unhurried and deliberate, as if he meant to savor every second. Kilani sighed into it, her body melting into his, fingers sliding up to curl against the nape of his neck.
His other hand splayed along the small of her back, fingertips teasing beneath the hem of her shirt but going no further. Just enough to set fire to her senses, to remind her of the depth they had yet to explore.
When they finally parted, their breaths were uneven, warmth pooling between them.
Kilani swallowed, fingers still tangled in his hair. “…I don’t think we’ll get much sleep tonight.”
Estinien chuckled, low and knowing. “That depends on you.”
She smirked. “Dangerous, remember?”
His grip tightened slightly at her waist. “So am I.”
Kilani laughed softly before pressing her forehead against his. They would take their time. They had no need to rush.
But for tonight, there would be no space between them.
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