... You still have injuries that need tending to. [ Alkaid already knows he will rebuke the idea, which is why her eyes are fixed on the ground and her fingers begin twisting one another. ] If you refuse to eat with me, then, I ought to at least do the only thing I can do to be beneficial to you.
[ In a way, she feels as if it is a cycle they seem to repeat. She will frame herself and what she will do by the way he defines it thanks to the primal influence, and then he will seemingly break. That is not what she had intended at all. She only wishes to do what she might need to in order to not only heal him, but stay at his side. Although, she cannot brush aside the sinking feeling that perhaps she is no longer useful in his primal hazed mind.
Alkaid opens the door and steps out into the sitting room of the quarters. She stops at the table between the couches, seeing the brown wrapped package waiting on the table. Her head tilts and she removes the letter attached to the yarn. She gently flips it over, eyes scrawling over the print that is quite clearly Tataru's.
Something for Ser Aymeric.
She looks back down at the package. A moment passes before she takes it into her hands, fingers brushing against the paper. Tataru has an adoration for Ishgard, just as Alphinaud. The Lalafell clearly worries for the state of Aymeric and the city-state that gave them refuge when none other would. Not for the first time, Alkaid wonders if perhaps she has acted too selfishly and disregarded the feelings of the other Scions. She holds the package to her chest before moving towards the door to the room.
Her hand reaches out to open it, but it opens seemingly on it's own. For the first time since she woke up this morning, her ears lift up from her head in surprise. Estinien enters the room and closes the door behind him. ]
Your footsteps are rather distinct, Alkaid, despite your attempt to hide them. [ Estinien offers an air of humor that she wishes she might be able to return. Then, his ice-steel eyes move to see Aymeric moving about on his own. ] And it would seem our sleeping Lord Speaker is up and about on his feet.
I know it's late, but, he needs to eat. [ Alkaid's tail stills and curls around her as Estinien turns his gaze back to her. The silent correction of "we" is already in her expression. She squeezes the package closer to her chest. ] A-and please thank Tataru for the gift for me...
I am certain she would need no thanks, but, I will be certain they are passed along. Given his lordship has graced us with his presence? You can have no doubt that something hearty will be brought.
[ The dragoon half turns, sending one narrowed glance towards Aymeric once more. The door closes behind him as he leaves them once more. The echo seems to ring in her ears and she remains standing where she is for a moment. Finally, Alkaid turns and walks back to Aymeric and where he has seated himself.
She holds the package out for him to take, eyes adverted away from him. ]
no subject
[ In a way, she feels as if it is a cycle they seem to repeat. She will frame herself and what she will do by the way he defines it thanks to the primal influence, and then he will seemingly break. That is not what she had intended at all. She only wishes to do what she might need to in order to not only heal him, but stay at his side. Although, she cannot brush aside the sinking feeling that perhaps she is no longer useful in his primal hazed mind.
Alkaid opens the door and steps out into the sitting room of the quarters. She stops at the table between the couches, seeing the brown wrapped package waiting on the table. Her head tilts and she removes the letter attached to the yarn. She gently flips it over, eyes scrawling over the print that is quite clearly Tataru's.
Something for Ser Aymeric.
She looks back down at the package. A moment passes before she takes it into her hands, fingers brushing against the paper. Tataru has an adoration for Ishgard, just as Alphinaud. The Lalafell clearly worries for the state of Aymeric and the city-state that gave them refuge when none other would. Not for the first time, Alkaid wonders if perhaps she has acted too selfishly and disregarded the feelings of the other Scions. She holds the package to her chest before moving towards the door to the room.
Her hand reaches out to open it, but it opens seemingly on it's own. For the first time since she woke up this morning, her ears lift up from her head in surprise. Estinien enters the room and closes the door behind him. ]
Your footsteps are rather distinct, Alkaid, despite your attempt to hide them. [ Estinien offers an air of humor that she wishes she might be able to return. Then, his ice-steel eyes move to see Aymeric moving about on his own. ] And it would seem our sleeping Lord Speaker is up and about on his feet.
I know it's late, but, he needs to eat. [ Alkaid's tail stills and curls around her as Estinien turns his gaze back to her. The silent correction of "we" is already in her expression. She squeezes the package closer to her chest. ] A-and please thank Tataru for the gift for me...
I am certain she would need no thanks, but, I will be certain they are passed along. Given his lordship has graced us with his presence? You can have no doubt that something hearty will be brought.
[ The dragoon half turns, sending one narrowed glance towards Aymeric once more. The door closes behind him as he leaves them once more. The echo seems to ring in her ears and she remains standing where she is for a moment. Finally, Alkaid turns and walks back to Aymeric and where he has seated himself.
She holds the package out for him to take, eyes adverted away from him. ]
Tataru brought this for you. She made it herself.