[ Aymeric's fingers curl around hers as well, and although exhaustion sweeps over him once more, he holds onto her hands with as much strength as he can muster. It is not very much, but he fears being swept away from her again, and holding onto her is all he can do, in hopes of grounding himself.
He has to fight to speak, because that is the last thing the primal wants, but his resolve burns just as much as Lantaa's does, and after a few seconds of struggling, he manages to seize control of his voice. ]
Please- You must... You must live. [ He fears if she loses too much of herself in the process of trying to help him, even if she does not literally bleed out for him or for the city, the outcome will be very bleak indeed. He does not doubt the strength that K'thisru possesses, but both of the sisters are needed, and if both were lost, then Ishgard might be lost as well.
He dimly recalls her expressing a distaste for how all of Eorzea is concerned with protecting them whenever possible, but he still cannot help but feel that the two sisters are far more important than just one man. ] You are needed... Ishgard needs you.
[ He would give his all for the city he loves so much, but as she has thought to herself, she and K'thisru are Ishgard's saviors, and so they must both live.
Once they are seated and his head is resting on her shoulder, his body sags as exhaustion pulls at him again. He must continue to fight, but he is so tired and the primal seems all but unmoving. Still, water can wear away stone, and a part of Aymeric calls out to him to keep pushing back, to keep fighting that maybe the primal's influence will wear away, a little at a time. Never mind that no one who has been tempered has been able to free themselves by willpower alone, but however tired he is, he does not wish to give up.
He does not register Estinien's presence, nor that of the Storm representative, doing little more than lying in her hold until both men have taken their leave.
Alkaid's kiss and her fingers running through his hair calm him, as they always have, but the churning turmoil in his heart does not lessen. A choice must be made, but does he have the strength to make it? Will the primal's influence overtake him and take the choice from him?
Even as she tries to soothe him, he begins to shake, his emotions and desires threatening to overwhelm him in the absence of his customary implacable emotional shields that have so thoroughly been destroyed during this long fight.
Home... He hears her making promises that they will go home when this is all over, and his need to be home in Ishgard where everything is familiar and where his heart truly resides nearly drowns him in its intensity. Even as she goes on to talk about helping Ishgard's people rebuild, and even mentions their marriage, his longing for his home only grows.
When she pulls away to bring over their dinner, he stiffens, but she is still there with him, not having left or having been forcibly removed a second time. Still, in the absence of that determined man whose only thought was how best to escape so that he might answer Thordan's call, it is all Aymeric can do to remain seated. Feeding himself seems to once again be a task he cannot manage.
The thought has been present in his mind, but he has been unable to properly verbalize it until now: how long will I be able to maintain this current state? And even if I am able to, what will the outcome be? Will I be Thordan's thrall until my time runs out?
He vaguely recalls mentions of a cure from a time that seems so long ago now, but he cannot tell if that cure is even functional, or if he will be able to hold on until it is ready. Another thought not of his own making but rather, the primal's, springs to mind: Why prolong your struggle in hopes of something that is not meant for you? Why not take the easier path and let your fight finally end?
At those words, his hands clench, and his head abruptly snaps up, mouth falling open into a wordless protest. No.
Even though he can barely move and his ability to speak waxes and wanes, he has found enough of the last vestiges of his strength to defy the primal's tempting words. ]
no subject
He has to fight to speak, because that is the last thing the primal wants, but his resolve burns just as much as Lantaa's does, and after a few seconds of struggling, he manages to seize control of his voice. ]
Please- You must... You must live. [ He fears if she loses too much of herself in the process of trying to help him, even if she does not literally bleed out for him or for the city, the outcome will be very bleak indeed. He does not doubt the strength that K'thisru possesses, but both of the sisters are needed, and if both were lost, then Ishgard might be lost as well.
He dimly recalls her expressing a distaste for how all of Eorzea is concerned with protecting them whenever possible, but he still cannot help but feel that the two sisters are far more important than just one man. ] You are needed... Ishgard needs you.
[ He would give his all for the city he loves so much, but as she has thought to herself, she and K'thisru are Ishgard's saviors, and so they must both live.
Once they are seated and his head is resting on her shoulder, his body sags as exhaustion pulls at him again. He must continue to fight, but he is so tired and the primal seems all but unmoving. Still, water can wear away stone, and a part of Aymeric calls out to him to keep pushing back, to keep fighting that maybe the primal's influence will wear away, a little at a time. Never mind that no one who has been tempered has been able to free themselves by willpower alone, but however tired he is, he does not wish to give up.
He does not register Estinien's presence, nor that of the Storm representative, doing little more than lying in her hold until both men have taken their leave.
Alkaid's kiss and her fingers running through his hair calm him, as they always have, but the churning turmoil in his heart does not lessen. A choice must be made, but does he have the strength to make it? Will the primal's influence overtake him and take the choice from him?
Even as she tries to soothe him, he begins to shake, his emotions and desires threatening to overwhelm him in the absence of his customary implacable emotional shields that have so thoroughly been destroyed during this long fight.
Home... He hears her making promises that they will go home when this is all over, and his need to be home in Ishgard where everything is familiar and where his heart truly resides nearly drowns him in its intensity. Even as she goes on to talk about helping Ishgard's people rebuild, and even mentions their marriage, his longing for his home only grows.
When she pulls away to bring over their dinner, he stiffens, but she is still there with him, not having left or having been forcibly removed a second time. Still, in the absence of that determined man whose only thought was how best to escape so that he might answer Thordan's call, it is all Aymeric can do to remain seated. Feeding himself seems to once again be a task he cannot manage.
The thought has been present in his mind, but he has been unable to properly verbalize it until now: how long will I be able to maintain this current state? And even if I am able to, what will the outcome be? Will I be Thordan's thrall until my time runs out?
He vaguely recalls mentions of a cure from a time that seems so long ago now, but he cannot tell if that cure is even functional, or if he will be able to hold on until it is ready. Another thought not of his own making but rather, the primal's, springs to mind: Why prolong your struggle in hopes of something that is not meant for you? Why not take the easier path and let your fight finally end?
At those words, his hands clench, and his head abruptly snaps up, mouth falling open into a wordless protest. No.
Even though he can barely move and his ability to speak waxes and wanes, he has found enough of the last vestiges of his strength to defy the primal's tempting words. ]