Work Text:
Deya walks through Borel Manor for the second time that night, fancy dress exchanged for her dragoon armor. She does not have much time - she must follow Alisaie's warning, prevent what the Warriors of Darkness are planning - but Aymeric had asked her a question, and she intends to answer it before she leaves.
She reaches her destination and knocks lightly on the doorway of Aymeric's dining room, announcing her presence. Aymeric looks up, surprise clear on his face as he sees who stands there. "Deya! I thought you would be on your way to Xelphatol by now."
"I'm leaving soon. Alphinaud went ahead to Camp Dragonhead," Deya says. "I wanted to talk to you again before I left."
"Oh?" Aymeric stands as Deya walks a little further into the room.
"Before we were interrupted... You asked me what I wanted, just for myself," Deya says. "I would give you my answer, if you still want to hear it."
"Very much so, if you would tell me," Aymeric says softly.
"I want - " Deya breaks off, suddenly far more nervous than she should be. She takes a deep breath. "I want to have dinner with you like this every night. I want to wake up every morning and have my first words be to tell you I love you. I want to make sure you never overwork yourself again because I'm here to drag you home when you stay too late." She swallows. "I want to spend my life with you, maybe even start a family with you, if we decide we want that someday. Warden, I want that so much. But... I'm the Warrior of Light. I can't."
"We both know I want that too," Aymeric says as he moves closer. "What does that matter? Why can the Warrior not find happiness of her own?"
Deya clenches her fists, feeling tears gathering in her eyes. "A wife should put her spouse first. A mother should put her child first. The Warrior of Light has to put Eorzea first. How could I marry or have a child, knowing I couldn't make them my world? It would be - would be selfish. You deserve someone who can give you that."
Aymeric wipes a tear off her cheek. "No one tells us what our relationship must be but us," he says. "I have to put Ishgard first, as its Lord Speaker. I still love you, and you still love me. Is that selfish? Why should that stop us from being with each other? From marrying who we wish?"
"Aymeric," Deya says quietly. "Is this a proposal?"
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "I remember when I first met you," he says. "The Warrior of Light, brave and strong, fighting for Ishgard and all of Eorzea. I fell for her quicker than I'd prefer to admit."
Deya flinches slightly on reflex - she is not her title, and he knows that - but she doesn't pull away. She knows he loves her for who she is. She trusts him. And... he said her, not you.
"But then I got to know the woman behind the title," he continues, voice soft, opening his eyes and gazing at her with intensity. "You are brave, and strong, but you are also kind, and funny, and you love so deeply. You love Eorzea, and its people, and you can hardly meet a new friend without adopting them into your family. And they love you back." He smiles. "I've never doubted you would be a wonderful mother, should you decide you wanted to be. Even should our duties call us both away, you have so many people who love you who would help you. I'm sure Edmont would adore the role of doting grandfather."
Deya laughs, just once.
"I think the Fury must have blessed me, for me to be lucky enough to win your love. For you to want to spend your life with me. I want that too. More than anything." He pulls back, taking something out of a pocket and sinking to one knee, holding it out to her. A ring. "Deya Avain. Will you marry me?"
Deya takes a moment to collect her thoughts. She's crying again, but these are far happier tears than previously.
"You know," she says slowly, trying to find the words, "I spent my childhood traveling. I never really had a home. I've spent my entire adult life looking for a place that felt like home, a place where I belonged. I found it in Ishgard, but it's not the city." She gently pulls Aymeric back to standing, needing to be closer to him. She looks up at him. "It's you."
"Deya..." Aymeric breathes, almost reverently.
She pulls him closer to her. "There is nothing I want more than to be your wife. To have you as my husband." She hesitates, insecurities creeping back. "You're sure?"
Can she really have this?
"The one thing I want, just for myself," he says, "is you."
"Then yes." Deya smiles so widely her face hurts. "Yes, Aymeric de Borel, I will marry you."
Aymeric kisses her, and it feels like home.
After a perfect moment, or maybe two, or three, they break apart, but stay close, breathing the same air. Aymeric finds Deya's hand and slips the ring onto her finger. It fits perfectly.
Deya wants nothing more than to stay here forever, but she is still the Warrior of Light, and there are still people who need her. So after a few seconds, reluctantly, she pulls away. "I have to go," she says apologetically. "But when I get back..."
"When you come home," Aymeric says, and his smile feels like sunrise - "we'll have dinner."