[ Alkaid cannot imagine not loving him. It hardly matters if he is not the spitting image of the perfect proper Lord Speaker. She does not love him because he is the Lord Speaker or because he was the Lord Commander of the Temple Knights. It is all the pieces of him that shine through no matter what mantle he wears. It is the adoration and love he has for his people and his city, and for how much better they could be. His voice, his eyes, even the way his head tilts as he reads over the reports.
There is no part of his current state she blames on him or even allows to cloud her vision of him. He is still Aymeric de Borel, even if he is under attack, injured, and past a point of exhaustion.
Her eyebrows knit together as she sees the pain in his eyes. In an instant there is an apology in her own eyes. She feels as if all she does is cause him more pain and strife. Alkaid brushes her fingers across his cheeks once more. She would kiss him more, longer, deeper. Yet, the pain he is in makes her curl up inside herself.
Alkaid reaches out to brush her fingers along his before sliding into his hand to hold it. her hand is still cold, showing that she had not taken much of the blankets for herself the night before. Her other arm holds onto the blankets and pillow. She nods to Estinien and stays by Aymeric's side as they begin to walk. It is only a few steps at a time, and she notes how Estinien pauses to readjust to make it easier for his friend to walk. ]
It is still early in the morning--the sun has yet to peek. Limsa still sleeps, thus we should be able to get there unhindered or with little attraction pulled to us.
[ Alkaid nods to Estinien's statement and continues to walk beside them. It takes time, but they eventually find their way from the cells and the hallway attached to it. They come to the stairs and Alkaid moves to the front, gently guiding Aymeric upwards with her hand still clasped his. It is only once they have reached the lift that her ears raise and she tilts her head to look up at the dragoon. ]
What room have you managed to get...?
I only pointed out that it may harm relations if they kept the Lord Speaker of the House of Lords of Ishgard in the cells. No inn would take him in his state, thus, the idea was settled for a room given to the diplomatic visitors. [ Estinien shrugs as if it is of little importance. ] I will be on watch outside the door and, in order to calm the hesitant hearts, a member of the Storms as well. Although it is hardly needed.
[ She gives a short nod. It means there will be a comfortable bed and a bath to take care of him for. Of course, her own state is far from her mind. She will eat whenever she will eat, and she will sleep whenever Aymeric himself drifts off to slumber. His state of being is the most important thing in her world right now, regardless of the cost it will bring to herself. Part of her cannot let go of the feeling that so much of the light and life of the star would fade away for her if Aymeric or her sister had to leave. That, in her mind, makes any sacrifice of her person worth it.
Estinien opens the door to the room when they arrive. Without direction, he instantly takes Aymeric to the nearest couch so he might sit down. Alkaid stands at his side in an instant. Her hand is still firmly in his as the other guides his face so he might look up at her.
no subject
There is no part of his current state she blames on him or even allows to cloud her vision of him. He is still Aymeric de Borel, even if he is under attack, injured, and past a point of exhaustion.
Her eyebrows knit together as she sees the pain in his eyes. In an instant there is an apology in her own eyes. She feels as if all she does is cause him more pain and strife. Alkaid brushes her fingers across his cheeks once more. She would kiss him more, longer, deeper. Yet, the pain he is in makes her curl up inside herself.
Alkaid reaches out to brush her fingers along his before sliding into his hand to hold it. her hand is still cold, showing that she had not taken much of the blankets for herself the night before. Her other arm holds onto the blankets and pillow. She nods to Estinien and stays by Aymeric's side as they begin to walk. It is only a few steps at a time, and she notes how Estinien pauses to readjust to make it easier for his friend to walk. ]
It is still early in the morning--the sun has yet to peek. Limsa still sleeps, thus we should be able to get there unhindered or with little attraction pulled to us.
[ Alkaid nods to Estinien's statement and continues to walk beside them. It takes time, but they eventually find their way from the cells and the hallway attached to it. They come to the stairs and Alkaid moves to the front, gently guiding Aymeric upwards with her hand still clasped his. It is only once they have reached the lift that her ears raise and she tilts her head to look up at the dragoon. ]
What room have you managed to get...?
I only pointed out that it may harm relations if they kept the Lord Speaker of the House of Lords of Ishgard in the cells. No inn would take him in his state, thus, the idea was settled for a room given to the diplomatic visitors. [ Estinien shrugs as if it is of little importance. ] I will be on watch outside the door and, in order to calm the hesitant hearts, a member of the Storms as well. Although it is hardly needed.
[ She gives a short nod. It means there will be a comfortable bed and a bath to take care of him for. Of course, her own state is far from her mind. She will eat whenever she will eat, and she will sleep whenever Aymeric himself drifts off to slumber. His state of being is the most important thing in her world right now, regardless of the cost it will bring to herself. Part of her cannot let go of the feeling that so much of the light and life of the star would fade away for her if Aymeric or her sister had to leave. That, in her mind, makes any sacrifice of her person worth it.
Estinien opens the door to the room when they arrive. Without direction, he instantly takes Aymeric to the nearest couch so he might sit down. Alkaid stands at his side in an instant. Her hand is still firmly in his as the other guides his face so he might look up at her.