[ It is an expression she has never seen him wear. The closest she can recall is his countenance as he called out to his father from the Vault, begging that he might hear his son before the final turn to madness. The memories flood her for a moment. She wished to reach out and heal him then and there, despite all going on. However, she kept to herself, knowing it might be far too familiar a line to cross even if they were friends. Her efforts instead had turned to Haurchefaunt as he blocked the blow for her and K'thisru... and how ultimately she was unable to save him.
The memory causes her eyes to snap open as that same fear grips her now.
What if I am unable to save Aymeric too?
Can she save him? Despite how much she wishes to deny it, the evidence is clear within his aether. It has stagnated and aligned to only one way. He is tempered... and she as well as the Scions know the clear signs of it. The shock of the situation has melted away into a sort of raw wound, causing her hand to shake once she fully accepts the situation in front of her. He is tempered as many must be in Ishgard.
Estinien said he would inform them of what happened, but, she feels as if she needs no knowledge. Only one primal in the world could have enthralled her knight with how strong his convictions are. Which means that, once more, they must end the visage of God-King that Aymeric's father became.
She watches as he shakes his head, her hand slowly moving upwards to his chest to heal the damage caused by Estinien's lance. Her gaze is there ready to meet his now, eyes glistening with water with the reality of the situation all crashing down upon her. The green glow of her healing magic subsides once she moves to speak, only to stop the moment that he speaks her name.
Her false name, that is.
While it logically should all align that he would not use her real name? She cannot help but feel as if the notch in her heart is chipped at again. The tremor in her hand increases and perhaps it is for her benefit he cannot see her properly. She has never been skilled enough to hide her emotions from him. ]
O-of course... a-always, as long as you want.
[ Her gaze lowers and eyes travel to the side at his hands. She leans upwards towards the chained hand so he might stroke one of her ears that remains folded to the back of her head. He had always been timid of touching them, but she knows it had usually calmed him in some manner.
She is careful not to touch him with her hands or rest of her body as she leans upwards. What if her touch agitated him and caused his wounds to ache more? He, to her, is still Aymeric, the one that she loves as much as she loves the star she walks on. In his current state? He may not see her as Lantaa or even one of the Saviors of Ishgard. All he might see is one of two Warriors of Light who bring about an end to primals and therefore his God-King.
Reduced to nothing more than the visage of a weapon. There is a bitter irony in it all. Aymeric had been the first leader to treat she and her sister as comrades and people. Now, she might be to him is what he disagreed with the Scions treating them as. ]
The pain may remain, but, I've healed most of the wounds you've received. I... [ She wants to do so much more, but knows she cannot. Not when he is tempered and a danger to those outside. The danger she is in never truly crosses her mind. ] I... Aymeric, I...
no subject
The memory causes her eyes to snap open as that same fear grips her now.
What if I am unable to save Aymeric too?
Can she save him? Despite how much she wishes to deny it, the evidence is clear within his aether. It has stagnated and aligned to only one way. He is tempered... and she as well as the Scions know the clear signs of it. The shock of the situation has melted away into a sort of raw wound, causing her hand to shake once she fully accepts the situation in front of her. He is tempered as many must be in Ishgard.
Estinien said he would inform them of what happened, but, she feels as if she needs no knowledge. Only one primal in the world could have enthralled her knight with how strong his convictions are. Which means that, once more, they must end the visage of God-King that Aymeric's father became.
She watches as he shakes his head, her hand slowly moving upwards to his chest to heal the damage caused by Estinien's lance. Her gaze is there ready to meet his now, eyes glistening with water with the reality of the situation all crashing down upon her. The green glow of her healing magic subsides once she moves to speak, only to stop the moment that he speaks her name.
Her false name, that is.
While it logically should all align that he would not use her real name? She cannot help but feel as if the notch in her heart is chipped at again. The tremor in her hand increases and perhaps it is for her benefit he cannot see her properly. She has never been skilled enough to hide her emotions from him. ]
O-of course... a-always, as long as you want.
[ Her gaze lowers and eyes travel to the side at his hands. She leans upwards towards the chained hand so he might stroke one of her ears that remains folded to the back of her head. He had always been timid of touching them, but she knows it had usually calmed him in some manner.
She is careful not to touch him with her hands or rest of her body as she leans upwards. What if her touch agitated him and caused his wounds to ache more? He, to her, is still Aymeric, the one that she loves as much as she loves the star she walks on. In his current state? He may not see her as Lantaa or even one of the Saviors of Ishgard. All he might see is one of two Warriors of Light who bring about an end to primals and therefore his God-King.
Reduced to nothing more than the visage of a weapon. There is a bitter irony in it all. Aymeric had been the first leader to treat she and her sister as comrades and people. Now, she might be to him is what he disagreed with the Scions treating them as. ]
The pain may remain, but, I've healed most of the wounds you've received. I... [ She wants to do so much more, but knows she cannot. Not when he is tempered and a danger to those outside. The danger she is in never truly crosses her mind. ] I... Aymeric, I...