[ The moment his breathing changes, her eyes widen further in worry. It is difficult, even with her training, to tell what is wrong within his aether. It has stopped turning as it ought to, jaringly being pulled in the direction of what she would presume is the element Thordan radiates. Precieved holy light.

She keeps cradling his head in hopes to calm or ease what surely is a struggle of body and mind. She holds him even as he begins to struggle and thrash about. However, her gaze becomes gentle as his struggles continue. Alkaid shifts so she might pull him to rest his head on her shoulder. One hand goes to his hair and begins to smooth down the strands that have been frazzled. ]

Hush now, Aymeric. You'll strain yourself to the point you cannot fight for anyone, let alone any holy cause. Your God-King may not care for your state of being--only the end goal--but you said yourself war would need of healers. If you truly believe I might be of use to your cause... allow me to start here. With you. That way you may prove to any who doubt.

[ After a few more moments, her hand moves to the wrist in the cuff from his hair. Her fingers gently slide between the skin and cuff, lightly with the gentle green and white glow she is known for. Of course, should he push against her fingers in a way to move the cuffs? He will surely cause her harm as well.

Not that it much matters in her mind. ]