[ It still does not sit well with him that he is here in relative safety and warmth with the woman he loves by his side, when he knows full well that families have most certainly been torn apart by these events. They have no way of knowing if their loved ones even still live, and to even think about how they must be feeling saddens him greatly. In this moment, he knows that he cannot abandon his people. His duty to them is as great as the duty he has to Alkaid, and in his mind, both duties hold equal weight. He does not know as yet how he will manage to serve both, but he is determined to do so, whatever it takes.
If she consents to remain by his side as his lady-wife and as one who lends her aid to the people of Ishgard, then he will be beyond grateful to her.
He knows that tension is mounting even higher in his shoulders and neck, as is typical when he is feeling apprehensive about something, but when he feels her lips brush against his hand, he cannot hold back the exhale of breath nor the smile that crosses his face. The tension remains, but a goodly portion of it has been siphoned away by that simple act.
When she announces that she needs to retrieve something and slips away from him, he is quick to sit up, not because he fears that she will leave, but simply because he wishes to watch and see where she might be going. Perhaps he does need to be assured that she will return from whatever it is she is doing. Of course, she returns quickly enough, and he lightly chastises himself for being worried.
To him, it seems clear that something is on her mind and so he remains silent but no less attentive to her words. She is right that he did read the report, but it was very factual and direct, as reports ought to be. He imagines that what she is about to relate will be far more winding and turning than that report was.
And true to form, as she begins to explain the state of the world so very long ago, Aymeric's tension only continues to rise. She paints a dire picture, and he believes he can understand to an extent the desperation of the Ascians, even if he cannot agree with their measures nor with what they have done.
But when he hears her speak those words, saying that the summoning of Zodiark took the lives of half of the Ancients, Aymeric's face falls. Any loss of life is unforgivable; he knows that if half of all who live in Ishgard perished for any reason, that would be a blow that he might not recover from. With that in mind, he realizes he does feel some small amount of sympathy for the Ascians: not to the point that he would be able to forgive them, but he does understand what drove them.
It is not easy for him to overlook that lives were sacrificed, but when he focuses upon the knowledge that their world was in difficulty and in danger of coming apart, he can somewhat understand. Somewhat.
Alkaid's explanation continues, moving on to speak of Hydaelyn's creation and the conflict between her and Zodiark. It comes as quite the surprise that Hydaelyn is a primal, but at the same time, he admits that he does not know very much about her.
His gaze travels then to the drawn sketch of the city that she speaks of. He imagines her depiction does not do the city, or the recreation of it, justice, but it does help him to picture the place she describes. ]
I see. [ A thoughtful, almost pensive expression has taken his face, because she has given him a lot to think about and attempt to process. ] I suppose, in light of all this, I might be able to understand some- some, mind you, of the actions of these Ascians.
But others... Others, I find quite unforgivable. [ It is not his place to have an opinion, as he well knows, and it would have no bearing anyway, but he cannot help but state his feelings on the matter regardless. ]
no subject
If she consents to remain by his side as his lady-wife and as one who lends her aid to the people of Ishgard, then he will be beyond grateful to her.
He knows that tension is mounting even higher in his shoulders and neck, as is typical when he is feeling apprehensive about something, but when he feels her lips brush against his hand, he cannot hold back the exhale of breath nor the smile that crosses his face. The tension remains, but a goodly portion of it has been siphoned away by that simple act.
When she announces that she needs to retrieve something and slips away from him, he is quick to sit up, not because he fears that she will leave, but simply because he wishes to watch and see where she might be going. Perhaps he does need to be assured that she will return from whatever it is she is doing. Of course, she returns quickly enough, and he lightly chastises himself for being worried.
To him, it seems clear that something is on her mind and so he remains silent but no less attentive to her words. She is right that he did read the report, but it was very factual and direct, as reports ought to be. He imagines that what she is about to relate will be far more winding and turning than that report was.
And true to form, as she begins to explain the state of the world so very long ago, Aymeric's tension only continues to rise. She paints a dire picture, and he believes he can understand to an extent the desperation of the Ascians, even if he cannot agree with their measures nor with what they have done.
But when he hears her speak those words, saying that the summoning of Zodiark took the lives of half of the Ancients, Aymeric's face falls. Any loss of life is unforgivable; he knows that if half of all who live in Ishgard perished for any reason, that would be a blow that he might not recover from. With that in mind, he realizes he does feel some small amount of sympathy for the Ascians: not to the point that he would be able to forgive them, but he does understand what drove them.
It is not easy for him to overlook that lives were sacrificed, but when he focuses upon the knowledge that their world was in difficulty and in danger of coming apart, he can somewhat understand. Somewhat.
Alkaid's explanation continues, moving on to speak of Hydaelyn's creation and the conflict between her and Zodiark. It comes as quite the surprise that Hydaelyn is a primal, but at the same time, he admits that he does not know very much about her.
His gaze travels then to the drawn sketch of the city that she speaks of. He imagines her depiction does not do the city, or the recreation of it, justice, but it does help him to picture the place she describes. ]
I see. [ A thoughtful, almost pensive expression has taken his face, because she has given him a lot to think about and attempt to process. ] I suppose, in light of all this, I might be able to understand some- some, mind you, of the actions of these Ascians.
But others... Others, I find quite unforgivable. [ It is not his place to have an opinion, as he well knows, and it would have no bearing anyway, but he cannot help but state his feelings on the matter regardless. ]