[ At first, she had no idea what she should do. She stood at the entry of the cell, gaze fallen on him chained to the wall as if he were a criminal. Was this what it had been like inside the Vault? Estinien had not tortured him, but it is clear that Aymeric had to be subdued one way or another.
The reports of towers and clans disappearing had spread over the world. They had seen to Titan long enough for Alisaie to contend with the priests and then with Ga Bu, then shifted towards those that would summon Leviathan. They had only heard of the towers appearing to the north in Corethas when Admiral Merlwyb summoned them to her offices. Thanks were shared before the information given that the Lord Speaker of Ishgard was housed in the cells below. Without warning, she had dashes from the offices and the quickest way down to the cells.
The new dress had been one she hoped to share under better circumstances. A way to show that what had happened when they were summoned by the Crystal Exarch would not keep her down for long. Shoulderless, edged with ruffles, and a bow on the back by her tail. Of course, her hair remained ever lighter now: blonde with pink ends and highlights. One mint-green eye turned forever blue. Two markings to show that her time away had left their marks.
Alkaid slowly approaches him after what feels an eternity. The brown thigh high boots echo in the room as she walks, and she removes the crowning headpiece and the detailed braces at her wrists. They are placed to the side as she finally kneels down in front of him. Her blonde hair frames her face as it remains loose, freed from her braids and ponytail. Her gaze remains on his face until she is certain he will not wake.
Then, her attention turns to his labored breathing. A hand raises to his chest as her eyes slip shut. His aether would normally speak of what is injured, but now, it only speaks of stagnation and blinding holy light. She freezes then as fear grips her. The signs are there but she desperately wishes to deny the truth. No, no. He could not be...
She bites her lower lip and sets about to heal the internal wounds. His aether cannot tell her where she is needed most, thus she needs to rely on her knowledge of conjurey and not white magic. Her head dips down and all her focus goes from one wound to another. He will still harbor the bruises from internal bleeding, but she can at least repair the wounds themselves caused by the dragoon.
Hours feel quiet like eternity. She is aware that the others come to check on her, but she does not answer them. She simply moves from wound to wound, only pausing to gather her strength. The work keeps her busy and keeps her from falling apart.
Her ears twitch as his breathing changes. Slowly, her head tilts up to look at him. Her eyes keep to his face as he clearly battles with gaining his senses and whereabouts. A motion is made to answer him until he questions who it is sat in front of him.
Estinien.
Alkaid will not admit outloud the ripple of pain that moves inside her at the name. Despite her attempts not to react? Her ears press fully to the back of her head and her tail curls around her frame. He does not see her... either as the Warrior of Light or his betrothed.
Her eyes close and her lower lip quivers. ]
... No. I'm sorry to cause you disappointment. [ My knight, my love. ] ...S-shall I fetch him for you?
no subject
The reports of towers and clans disappearing had spread over the world. They had seen to Titan long enough for Alisaie to contend with the priests and then with Ga Bu, then shifted towards those that would summon Leviathan. They had only heard of the towers appearing to the north in Corethas when Admiral Merlwyb summoned them to her offices. Thanks were shared before the information given that the Lord Speaker of Ishgard was housed in the cells below. Without warning, she had dashes from the offices and the quickest way down to the cells.
The new dress had been one she hoped to share under better circumstances. A way to show that what had happened when they were summoned by the Crystal Exarch would not keep her down for long. Shoulderless, edged with ruffles, and a bow on the back by her tail. Of course, her hair remained ever lighter now: blonde with pink ends and highlights. One mint-green eye turned forever blue. Two markings to show that her time away had left their marks.
Alkaid slowly approaches him after what feels an eternity. The brown thigh high boots echo in the room as she walks, and she removes the crowning headpiece and the detailed braces at her wrists. They are placed to the side as she finally kneels down in front of him. Her blonde hair frames her face as it remains loose, freed from her braids and ponytail. Her gaze remains on his face until she is certain he will not wake.
Then, her attention turns to his labored breathing. A hand raises to his chest as her eyes slip shut. His aether would normally speak of what is injured, but now, it only speaks of stagnation and blinding holy light. She freezes then as fear grips her. The signs are there but she desperately wishes to deny the truth. No, no. He could not be...
She bites her lower lip and sets about to heal the internal wounds. His aether cannot tell her where she is needed most, thus she needs to rely on her knowledge of conjurey and not white magic. Her head dips down and all her focus goes from one wound to another. He will still harbor the bruises from internal bleeding, but she can at least repair the wounds themselves caused by the dragoon.
Hours feel quiet like eternity. She is aware that the others come to check on her, but she does not answer them. She simply moves from wound to wound, only pausing to gather her strength. The work keeps her busy and keeps her from falling apart.
Her ears twitch as his breathing changes. Slowly, her head tilts up to look at him. Her eyes keep to his face as he clearly battles with gaining his senses and whereabouts. A motion is made to answer him until he questions who it is sat in front of him.
Estinien.
Alkaid will not admit outloud the ripple of pain that moves inside her at the name. Despite her attempts not to react? Her ears press fully to the back of her head and her tail curls around her frame. He does not see her... either as the Warrior of Light or his betrothed.
Her eyes close and her lower lip quivers. ]
... No. I'm sorry to cause you disappointment. [ My knight, my love. ] ...S-shall I fetch him for you?