Chapter Text
Varshahn had long been a familiar face in and around the training grounds of the Radiant Host. At first, Estinien had believed Vrtra was checking up on him, mayhap ensuring Estinien did not introduce any subversive Ishgardian anti-Dravanian sentiments along with his lancework instruction.
Yet he quickly discovered that the members of the Radiant Host one and all greeted the 'boy' with friendly familiarity, treating him somewhere between a younger brother and a mascot. It was clear Varshahn had been frequently underfoot long before Estinien came into the picture.
Estinien then assumed the wyrm must be keeping an eye on the whole of his army, ensuring there were no signs of potential rebellion. It seemed a wise precaution, especially with everything in such upheaval upon the revelation that Thavnair had been ruled by a dragon all along.
As time wore on, however, he came to realize that Varshahn's presence was nothing more nor less than an indication that the dragon enjoyed being among his people, seeing them live out their daily lives.
Vrtra seemed perfectly content to serve as a runner and errand boy, and a wyrm of his power certainly could divide his attention easily enough. Though Varshahn's true identity was now widely known amongst the Host, they one and all continued to treat him like the boy they'd previously thought him to be.
Eventually Estinien came to accept Varshahn's presence as a fixture of the training grounds, and even on occasion found himself treating the 'boy' much as the rest of the Host did.
The first day back after their trip to the Void, he wasn't surprised to find Varshahn amongst the Radiant Host once more. Estinien was surprised to see him in his adult body, standing among the rank and file of all the dragoon trainees, lance in hand like the 'man' was no different from the rest of them.
Coming to an abrupt halt, Estinien stared at the wyrm. "You must be jesting," he protested.
Varshahn gazed back at him, serene. "I wish to learn like any other," he said in his smooth voice with its lilting accent. "This new body finally allows me to do so."
Floundering in disbelief, Estinien tried to sort out all his conflicting emotions about the idea. The whole thing was ridiculous. "May I speak to you for a moment," he finally asked, tipping his head towards the exit from the training ground.
"Of course." Unperturbed, Varshahn sheathed his lance on his back and followed Estinien out of earshot from the rest of the trainees.
Estinien rounded on him the moment they were out of eyesight, scowling fiercely. "I saw you fight in the Void," he reminded the wyrm. "You're already worlds better than even the best of these men and women. Hells, you are better than quite a few of the Knights Dragoon I trained for years. I know not how you obtained such skill..."
"I spent centuries watching and working with dragoons," Varshahn interrupted, tipping his head to one side. "Ages ago, when dragoons still trained to fight with dragons, not against them. Indeed, many a dragoon did I myself bear in battle against the Allagans."
That made sense, and certainly explained why it felt so incredibly effortless for Estinien to fight from Vrtra's back during the Final Days. Vrtra had always known exactly where to be, to provide Estinien with the best landing and launching points. At the time, Estinien had been too occupied with the battle to wonder at their near perfect synchronicity.
"Still," Estinien murmured, shaking his head. "Understanding the theory should not translate into true ability, not at the level you displayed. Watching others practice is no substitute for burning the muscle memory into your own body."
Varshahn shrugged. "And that is exactly why I wish to train with you," he asserted. "My skill does not approach yours, and I still have much I can learn."
'I'm not as good as you, yet' was a refrain Estinien oft heard from those he trained. The very best of the Knights Dragoon had won that skill by struggling to match him, but no one could hope to do what an Azure Dragoon could. That was the whole point of the Azure, that the power of the Eye granted him or her strength and fortitude far beyond the limits of mere mortals.
Estinien opened his mouth to say as much, his standard answer to that protest. Thankfully his brain caught up with him ere the words slipped past his lips to make a fool of him.
Varshahn commanded far more of the power of a great wyrm than Estinien did. In this case, it was Estinien who might well find himself struggling to keep up with another, if Varshahn truly dedicated himself to his training.
The thought was disconcerting. Had he not spent so much time of late with the Warrior of Light, Estinien might even have found himself resentful, after so long accustomed to being the superior power in any fight.
"But why?" Estinien asked instead. "If battle comes to Thavnair again, you would fight in your true form anyway. No matter how good you become in this body, you will always be more powerful as a dragon, by an order of magnitude."
"Already I have found myself in a situation where I could not fight in my true form," Varshahn pointed out with inexorable logic. "Our journey to the Void is not over yet. Besides." He smiled, making him look startlingly young and eager. "After so many millennia, I have the chance to experience something new. I wish to embrace every moment of it."
Ennui was doubtless the enemy of anyone with such a long lifespan. From that perspective, it made sense that Vrtra would take advantage of the capabilities of his new body to explore as many new opportunities as he could find.
"Well, you still cannot train with the Host," Estinien asserted. "Only two outcomes could result. One, you will humiliate and demoralize them, by being so much better. Or two, you will hold back to match them, learn nothing, and perchance cause them to lose some faith in you because they think their leader is unskilled. Neither is desirable."
Frowning, Varshahn considered his words. "I had not thought of it in such a way," he admitted reluctantly. "I would not wish to break their spirit. Is there no solution?"
Sighing, Estinien gave in to the inevitable. "I shall give you lessons in private," he conceded. "You have the raw power, but your technique and form could use work. Meanwhile, you can serve as my second, training the rest of them. There are enough now that I'm being forced to spread my attention too thin, and not give them each the focus they deserve. You know the theory, probably better than I do."
The delight that lit up Varshahn's eyes was unquestionably genuine. "Yes, I can do that," he agreed. "You are still the more experienced, so I will defer to your judgement. And I will not be able to attend every day. Some matters require more of my attention, such that I cannot spare enough to be in this body."
"Understandable." Vrtra was busier than ever, now that he didn't have a figurehead satrap to handle the minutiae of running the country. He needed to appoint some assistants, but had yet to do so. Mayhap he still felt he needed to prove himself as the nation's leader.
With that settled, Estinien led the way back to the training ground. The announcement that Varshahn would be acting as Estinien's second evoked some confusion amongst the ranks, but no complaints.
That confusion vanished quickly, as Varshahn moved among the trainees during the drills, correcting a stance here, demonstrating a strike there. His competence was obvious even in these small exercises. His soft-spoken and encouraging corrections also served as the perfect foil to Estinien's gruff and demanding training style, as it turned out.
Estinien trained these men and women in the same manner he had been trained, first by Alberic and later by the Knights Dragoon; by breaking them down and then building them back up again. It was a harsh regimen and he knew it, but he was not a man to go easy on those who wished to learn from him. Thus far none had quit, a measure of the dedication and loyalty of the Radiant Host, but he'd expected it to be a matter of time.
Now, with their beloved leader offering approbation and affirmation to both counter and reinforce Estinien's demands, every last one of the trainees stood taller and straighter, eyes bright with pride and determination. They also worked even harder, something Estinien honestly wouldn't have believed possible.
At the end of the day, the trainees had to drag themselves off the field with groans and complaints, but Varshahn looked as fresh as when they'd begun. Estinien nodded with grudging approval. "A job well done," he declared, and clapped Varshahn on the shoulder, just as he would have with anyone else who'd assisted him thus.
Though Estinien never forgot to whom he truly spoke, Vrtra had made it clear that he wished to be treated as any other man when being Varshahn. It seemed strange to pat a great wyrm on the back and praise him like any recruit, but Varshahn beamed with pride just as the other trainees did when they won Estinien's approval.
"They worked so hard," Varshahn commented, and Estinien realized some of the pride in his eyes was for the men and women of the Host, not himself. "I knew that they do, but 'tis different to see from this perspective. And they seemed to accept me as a teacher."
"Indeed, they like you better than me," Estinien chuckled. "As it should be. And what of you? Still eager for that lesson? You've seen how I train them, and I shall expect far more from you. 'Tis a great many repetitive exercises, training basic movements and techniques. There is no glamour or excitement in it."
"Full well do I know how such training works," Varshahn assured him, turning solemn. "As you said before, I must teach my body to know the motions so thoroughly, they are automatic. I shall not shirk from boredom."
"I expect you to run drills on your own time as well," Estinien warned him. "Once a day for an hour or so is not enough to cement this, not at the level you already fight at."
Varshahn shrugged. "Tis easy enough to set the body to doing repetitive tasks, and let it run its course with most of my attention elsewhere. I shall do so at every opportunity."
The casual answer made Estinien laugh for its seeming farcicality. It would have been ludicrous coming from anyone else, but he did not doubt the wyrm would do exactly that.
"I definitely could not allow you to train with the others," he declared, shaking his head. "You have far too many unfair advantages. Come, then. Let's put you through your paces."
Varshahn applied himself to the exercises Estinien set him with all the ferocity of a true life or death battle. He did not once complain of weariness or soreness, though Estinien pushed him hard enough that even the wyrm should grow tired.
In the end it was Estinien who put a halt to it, after some two hours of practice. He'd been up and working since the dawn, doing his own exercises ere he joined the Radiant Host for their training. The sun now hovered at the opposite horizon. Though serving as a trainer wasn't physically taxing, he was more than ready to end the day and get a solid meal in him.
"Enough," Estinien declared, when Varshahn completed yet another set of drills. "You've got plenty to work on for now, and your form has already improved. It's well past dinner, and I'm hungry."
Varshahn had the oddest look on his face as he slid his lance onto his back. He pressed a hand over his stomach, cocking his head. "Hungry. Is that what I am feeling? I thought perchance something had gone wrong with the body."
"You don't know what it feels like to be hungry?" Estinien stared at him. It was true that they'd not eaten whilst in the Void - they hadn't been there so long it would harm them to go without, and eating anything in that place might have granted the corruption a way into their bodies.
"Mine own power from the eye within it was sufficient to sustain the smaller body," Varshahn said, bemused. "It appears the greater complexity of this new form is such that it will require additional fuel for the organic components to continue to function. Though I suspect I shall not need to consume sustenance as oft as would be expected were this body real."
Estinien wondered what 'organic components' had been added to the design that required nutrients, but didn't bother to ask. Even if Varshahn could answer the question, likely Estinien wouldn't understand a word of it.
"Well, if the body burns energy like a living thing would, you'll probably need to eat regularly whilst training," Estinien pointed out. "This is hard work, and 'twill only grow harder as I get your measure and start pushing your limits."
He'd half expected the implication that today had been easy would give Varshahn pause. Instead the man smiled as if Estinien had offered him a gift. "Then I shall be certain to refuel it appropriately. I should not wish to disappoint you."
"Scant chance of that," Estinien assured him, because he was already impressed. Even accounting for Varshahn's considerable advantages over a normal trainee, the dedication and determination displayed was extraordinary.
A thought occurred to him, and he cocked his head. "If your previous avatar did not eat, does that mean you've never tasted your nation's cuisine? I strain to imagine you slurping up pots of curry and rice in your true form."
Varshahn chuckled. "Dragons are able to eat plant matter in small quantities, so I could have done so if I'd wished to, but no. In that form I prefer my meat and occasional fruits and vegetables in raw form. Spices make me sneeze terribly."
Estinien snorted a laugh at the image of the great wyrm sneezing his head off after sniffing at the local spices. "You're in for a delight, then. Thavnair's food takes some getting used to, but 'tis undeniably delicious once you grow accustomed to the heat of it."
"I look forward to the experience," Varshahn said. "The palace kitchens supply food for all the servants and nobles, they will surely have something I can consume."
"Do any of the servants know Varshahn's true identity now?" Estinien countered, eyebrow raised.
"The head servants do, and possibly others as well." Varshahn looked puzzled. "Why?"
Head servants would include the head cook, no doubt. "Because if they realize they are feeding their ruler, they will insist on making a fuss about it," Estinien told him. "Servants as happy as yours take great pride in their work, and they will not accept the idea of you eating anything less than their best efforts."
"Do you really think so?" Varshahn gazed at him wide-eyed.
"At best, they'll make you wait hours whilst they prepare a feast, and still be unhappy that they didn't have a chance to organize delicacies in advance," Estinien said. "At worst, if you insist on not waiting, they shall be flustered and horrified that their first chance to show off for you consisted of a hasty, 'substandard' meal."
"I see." Solemn, Varshahn contemplated that with one fist raised to his chin, expression pensive. "Will it always be thus?"
"Once they've had the chance to impress you and satisfy themselves that you know how good they are, they'll likely ease up," Estinien explained. "It may take some work to accustom them to the idea that you prefer simpler and less formal meals, but in time they'll accept it. It's the first impression that really matters."
Sighing, Varshahn appeared to resign himself to that. "Very well. Once more, I shall bow to your greater experience. But I do not wish to wait for hours more. This sensation of hunger is most distressing, now that I am paying attention to it."
Small wonder, considering the effort and energy they'd all expended in their excursion into the Void, not to mention today’s training. Clearly the body could indeed go far longer without food than a true living being, but Estinien wasn't surprised the hunger was sharp enough to be uncomfortable.
"Easy enough to fix," Estinien told him. "We'll head into the city, and I'll show you some of my favourites. My treat; you've certainly shown me more than enough hospitality since I've been here."
"I think I shall enjoy that," Varshahn agreed, with a smile that Estinien might have described as 'shy' on anyone else. "Lead the way, my friend."
Being named 'friend' by a great wyrm still felt odd to Estinien. That any Azure might be considered a friend by a dragon, after what the first of their Order had done to Ratatoskr and later to Nidhogg, was unlikely enough. That Estinien specifically, the man who slew Nidhogg in the end, should be welcomed by that wyrm's brood brother seemed unfathomable.
Yet Vrtra clearly bore Estinien no ill will for having murdered his brother. He seemed undisturbed by the constant reminder of that fact, which came in the form of the pieces of Nidhogg's power Estinien still carried. From the beginning, once he'd assured himself that Estinien bore Vrtra no ill will and intended no harm to him or the people of Thavnair, Vrtra had welcomed Estinien, fought unflinching at his side, and even invited him back specifically to train his army.
The mind of a great wyrm was a strange and wondrous thing. Their view of time was very different from a mortal's. They could hold a grudge for eons, carried down through the generations in perpetuity, as Nidhogg had done. Yet they also seemed able to set the past aside and accept the moment for what it was, as evidenced by Vrtra's reaction to him.
Though Estinien had greater insight into the workings of such a mind than any other mortal, thanks to his bond with Nidhogg, still he well knew he would never truly understand. All he could do was accept Vrtra's welcome for what it was, and do his best to return the sentiment in kind.