[ There is no denying that what he had said hurt, even if she knows it was not truly him saying them. A version of him, molded and formed by doctrine that created a primal. Knowing that it was not him helped carry the pain, but, there has always been a fear in her heart that what that version of him had said was how he felt. Perhaps, deep down, all she is truly worth is her abilities as a white mage, the Echo, and the Blessing of Light. Maybe there is no place in which being Lantaa is of value to anyone, but more importantly him.
She was not lying when she had phrased things certain ways. She has felt she has failed him in so many ways. While Aymeric would insist he does not mind waiting, Alkaid knows he should not have to wait. He should be able to return from his day to a home where his lady-wife has taken care of the home. He should have a wife that is not forced to be so inconsistent with her time with him. Even more so, beyond all of those things, he should have a wife that could bear him children. Their chances had already been low, but she still had hope that somehow it might happen one day.
Her gaze drifts to the side as he falls into a slumber. They are thoughts she has gone over again and again so many times during the last few days. What is worse? A woman he loves who has let him down in any way a wife can by nature of relationship and his cultural customs, or a wife that has such a selfish need to cling to him and ask he stays with her? Alkaid swallows the sound that might have come from her and instead pulls herself closer to him once he presses to her.
Eventually, as her sister notes, she does drift off to sleep. ]
Thank the Gods. [ Alisaie breathes a sigh of relief and leans back against the couch. ] Even if it had worked... it was so very different from Ga Bu's tempering. Harder, in fact. Yet, Ga Bu was the one who has spent more time tempered.
[ Estinien shrugs and pushes himself from the wall. ] While I would not presume to know of this Ga Bu's heart? The relationship between the Archbishop and Aymeric has always been one of wanting. If primals do in fact recall their previous incarnations? It would stand to reason King Thordan attempted to ensnare Aymeric further by the bond he wished to have with the Archbishop.
[ Alisaie closes her eyes and sighs. ] No wonder then... why Alkaid refused to leave. Other than the fact that they are engaged. [ A moment passes then the young Elezen stands, legs unsteady, but she holds a hand up to refuse the help. ] Well, I say we leave them to it then. I'll need to recover myself before reporting to the Scions.
[ The young Elezen ushers them all out of the room, practically attempting to drag her twin despite the fact she is weak from the extended use of channeling aether. The quarters set aside for diplomats falls quiet even as the evening hours stretch on and into night.
Alkaid wakes but a few times in the night to check on Aymeric. He sleeps still, undisturbed, which is enough to ease her at first. Then, as it turns morning, and then afternoon, she attempts to rouse him so he might at least eat. He remains the hardly responsive that he has been, mumbling something she cannot understand before sinking back into his sleep. It only truly begins to worry her once it stretches onto a second day. K'thisru visits and attempts to help, but Alkaid still sits twisting her fingers in worry. Logically, of course, he would sleep this long. The mental and emotional battle was long and taxing... he would need to sleep...
The second day stretches on into night. Alkaid does what she can to keep her mind occupied during it all, but inevitably, finds herself sitting on the edge of the bed that night. Her hands shake uncontrollably with the worries in her mind compounding on one another. She looks over her shoulder at Aymeric, waiting to see if he might move at all. Minutes stretch to an hour and once it is clear he will not wake? She slips from the bed to sit on the floor beside it.
Her arms rest on the bed and her chin atop them, simply watching as he sleeps. A hand stretches out at one point to rest atop of his with her fingers brushing along the top. Then, she pulls her hand back, and tilts her forehead against both arms and closes her eyes. A few tears manage to escape despite her best attempts, and hands curl into the blanket beneath them. Why did all of this happen to him? What had he ever done to deserve it? Nothing, of course. That answer is hardly enough to calm the churning emotions inside her.
Eventually, sleep takes her once again, despite the rather uncomfortable position. ]
no subject
She was not lying when she had phrased things certain ways. She has felt she has failed him in so many ways. While Aymeric would insist he does not mind waiting, Alkaid knows he should not have to wait. He should be able to return from his day to a home where his lady-wife has taken care of the home. He should have a wife that is not forced to be so inconsistent with her time with him. Even more so, beyond all of those things, he should have a wife that could bear him children. Their chances had already been low, but she still had hope that somehow it might happen one day.
Her gaze drifts to the side as he falls into a slumber. They are thoughts she has gone over again and again so many times during the last few days. What is worse? A woman he loves who has let him down in any way a wife can by nature of relationship and his cultural customs, or a wife that has such a selfish need to cling to him and ask he stays with her? Alkaid swallows the sound that might have come from her and instead pulls herself closer to him once he presses to her.
Eventually, as her sister notes, she does drift off to sleep. ]
Thank the Gods. [ Alisaie breathes a sigh of relief and leans back against the couch. ] Even if it had worked... it was so very different from Ga Bu's tempering. Harder, in fact. Yet, Ga Bu was the one who has spent more time tempered.
[ Estinien shrugs and pushes himself from the wall. ] While I would not presume to know of this Ga Bu's heart? The relationship between the Archbishop and Aymeric has always been one of wanting. If primals do in fact recall their previous incarnations? It would stand to reason King Thordan attempted to ensnare Aymeric further by the bond he wished to have with the Archbishop.
[ Alisaie closes her eyes and sighs. ] No wonder then... why Alkaid refused to leave. Other than the fact that they are engaged. [ A moment passes then the young Elezen stands, legs unsteady, but she holds a hand up to refuse the help. ] Well, I say we leave them to it then. I'll need to recover myself before reporting to the Scions.
[ The young Elezen ushers them all out of the room, practically attempting to drag her twin despite the fact she is weak from the extended use of channeling aether. The quarters set aside for diplomats falls quiet even as the evening hours stretch on and into night.
Alkaid wakes but a few times in the night to check on Aymeric. He sleeps still, undisturbed, which is enough to ease her at first. Then, as it turns morning, and then afternoon, she attempts to rouse him so he might at least eat. He remains the hardly responsive that he has been, mumbling something she cannot understand before sinking back into his sleep. It only truly begins to worry her once it stretches onto a second day. K'thisru visits and attempts to help, but Alkaid still sits twisting her fingers in worry. Logically, of course, he would sleep this long. The mental and emotional battle was long and taxing... he would need to sleep...
The second day stretches on into night. Alkaid does what she can to keep her mind occupied during it all, but inevitably, finds herself sitting on the edge of the bed that night. Her hands shake uncontrollably with the worries in her mind compounding on one another. She looks over her shoulder at Aymeric, waiting to see if he might move at all. Minutes stretch to an hour and once it is clear he will not wake? She slips from the bed to sit on the floor beside it.
Her arms rest on the bed and her chin atop them, simply watching as he sleeps. A hand stretches out at one point to rest atop of his with her fingers brushing along the top. Then, she pulls her hand back, and tilts her forehead against both arms and closes her eyes. A few tears manage to escape despite her best attempts, and hands curl into the blanket beneath them. Why did all of this happen to him? What had he ever done to deserve it? Nothing, of course. That answer is hardly enough to calm the churning emotions inside her.
Eventually, sleep takes her once again, despite the rather uncomfortable position. ]