now sing with me once more; aymeric/estinien reincarnation au

[ayyyyymeric]

[ When she was younger, she'd felt like something was missing. It wasn't like she was unhappy, not under the unending blue sky and warm sun of Thavnair. Nor with parents that loved her dearly, overjoyed as they were to have a child so late in their lives. She'd been given everything she wanted and more, even if she never asked for much. So in that regard she was content. More than, really.

But something still nagged for years on end. Like words caught on the tip of her tongue or a shadow fleeting at the edges of her vision. It'd made her feel guilty, as if she were ungrateful for the life that'd been placed in front of her. For as long as the knowledge evaded her, she'd nearly given up on getting an answer. Or that perhaps she was meant to find it somewhere outside of Thavnair.

And then the dreams started.

That's what she'd thought of them at first, waking up in a daze. They were crystal clear, feeling as real as the air in her lungs and the pulse in her veins. Night by night, week by week, month by month, they filtered in fragments, pieces fitting together like a story. To say it was confusing would be a vast understatement. And she remained so, until that fleeting shadow finally seemed to materialize. It'd been an ordinary day as she picked up a basket of cloth in Palaka's stand, the only disruption being the fairly common sight of the satrap (may the gods keep him safe) flying low in from the coast. She'd bowed her head in a respectful fashion and upon lifting it, had seen the man kneeling comfortably on Vrtra's back.

It can't have been more of a glance, not with how quickly their satrap covered the space of the land. But she'd caught the man's profile as he set his sights on something in the distance, snowy white hair streaming in the wind. From then, she knew. No, remembered, all the dream-memories falling neatly into place; his name was Estinien and she'd been missing him dearly for the past twenty years.

Once she knew who she was looking for, it wasn't difficult to track him down. After all, she had an entire lifetime of knowing him, once. She remembered his habits, the good and the bad and everything in between. So she looked in Radz-at-Han, stopping in a few likely places until her feet took her to Mehryde's Meyhane. Unsurprisingly, he was at the corner of the bar, tucked in as much of the unlit section as possible, shoulders hunched up near his ears. Aymeric felt a familiar tug in her chest at the sight, knowing he must be miserable. Straightening, she deftly wove her way through the crowded bar, stopping at the stool next to Estinien.

Briefly, she hesitated–what if he didn't recognize her like this? She was a she this time, after all. Her hair was longer, skin now sporting the telltale scales of an Au Ra, and she was quite a bit shorter to boot. Then again, there probably wasn't mistaking the particular color of her eyes. Nor the similar jeweled earring that hung on one ear.

Well, there was no answers if she didn't try. ]

Excuse me, is this seat taken?