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synthneon2022-02-11 05:36 pm
dragonssung) wrote in synthneon2022-02-11 05:36 pm
Entry tags:
echoes of truth | ❝ tales of loss and fire and flame. ❞
Every word on our hearts engraved
In the dark you will not stray
Forge ahead, till the end, we pray
no subject
[ He has no interest in a debate that they had engaged in time and time again throughout the years. If anything, however, it tells him that the man he knows as brother is still present. The context is still within his love of Ishgard. Estinien knows little of how enthrallment works. He simply makes mental notes of what to pass to those in the Scions who are experts in the matter. They had spoken of a cure in the works. ]
Is it not strange to you, Aymeric, that your claim of war for peace comes at the cost of the lives of those around you? Even those of Ishgard. You would sacrifice the lives of your brothers and sisters for promised peace? Who as the authority to make such a claim? The House of Lords and Commons? The Holy See?
[ Tell me who the primal is.
He glances down at the gripped bars. ]
I would know the name of the one who demands I kill those that have saved my life and given it anew.
[ A pause. ] You are right. There is only one healer that ought to see you, and she would be very cross indeed if I allowed another to touch your wounds.
no subject
The voice in his head does not express outright approval, not just yet, but at least there is the absence of disapproval, and so Aymeric has decided to take what he can get. ]
It is not strange to me at all. There are those who cannot see the truth, and they will either have their eyes opened or perish. Only one has the ability to make those claims and turn them into reality: Thordan himself.
[ He would name him aloud as father, but something causes him to refrain. Perhaps he does not wish to tip his hand so soon, to allow Estinien to know why he has thrown his lot in with Thordan. He supposes that the other man might even suspect without being told, but for the moment, he decides to leave some things unsaid. ]
In times of war, are there not casualties? I would not see anyone with Ishgardian blood meet their doom, but before there can be peace, there are also the demands- the sacrifices of war.
[ He fixes Estinien with the stoniest look that he can manage. ] Have I not been clear? I do not require healing from anyone, least of all the person you have in mind.
no subject
His eyes widen as Aymeric continues. Of course, he speaks as a Lord Commander and one of the battlefield. However, he knows his friend would not sacrifice the lives of his kin in war. He knows little of enthrallment and how far it may warp and twist the mind... but he is quickly learning. Thordan--whoever has summoned him--has quite clearly warped the love his brother has for their homeland into one of religious fever. Something, Estinien would note, that Aymeric never was. Not only has it warped that, but it feasts and preys on the unspoken desire of being recognized by his birth father.
In a single moment, the once-Azure Dragoon finds himself more horrified at the idea of what Aymeric could become. Something far more terrifying than Nidhogg and his Horde. Revenge, anger, hate and despair run deep and can motivate a man or dragon to do terrible things. Love, as he has seen, can be a stronger motivator. He can dimly recall an unknown face and that of Ysayle Iceheart over him as Nidhogg began to wane from his mind. If love of any form could defeat the great wrym once and for all... then love could surely fuel a man desperate for it to a holy war with no end. ]
You speak of King Thordan I, the man who threw dragonkind and Ishgard into a thousand years worth of war when he betrayed Ratatoskr. [ Estinien finds himself appalled even speaking of the man as he stands there in armor once worn by those who protected the wrym. ] The man who coveted power over the very peace our peoples lived in! The choices that that man made who caused the deaths of countless of both our kinds. You truly think that man is capable of bringing peace?!
[ A low, seething exhale escapes him. No, he knows of who Aymeric truly speaks of. The visage of the King that the Holy See cultivated over a thousand years. The idealization of the King that Aymeric's own father worshiped more than Halone Herself. The dragoon closes his eyes and calms himself as best as he can. Now, he has a clear picture of what turns in the bright-glowing eyes of his brother.
The right thing must be said. While he may not have the tact that Alphinaud has when it comes to language or words? He knows how to point words to strike hard at a foe. His arms cross as he stares the other man down evenly. ]
Let us be frank with one another, brother. [ No doubt this will send the once commander in a fit of rage. Hopefully, it will be a blow hard enough to rattle the mind. ] The adoration you seek from this would-be-god will never happen. It is a primal. It is Thordan in name only--neither the once king nor your misguided delusional egotistical father. A father, might I remind you, who had no wish to deal with you once you were born. He who threw you as some shameful secret; only for you to be taken in by a minor noble house. No amounts of action in war, no amounts of status or titles, would bring that man to love you.
However, your lady-wife to be, most certainly does love you. I have traveled with her only a handful of times, but it is clear to any with the capability to see that you are the world to her. You would throw that away for a love you will never see?!
no subject
Think of the peace that we could finally know: there will be no more wars, no more fighting. No one else need die, Aymeric. Yes, there will be a remnant who do end up passing beyond this plane, but everything that is worth having has its sacrifices.
As Thordan speaks, Aymeric's eyes seem to grow even brighter, and for just a moment, his vision blurs, obscuring Estinien from his sight.
What would you give to see the world entirely at peace?
Aymeric stiffens at that, hands moving to clench into fists. The image of Thordan in his mind smiles, as if knowing that he has succeeded in keeping the Lord Speaker of Ishgard fully in his grasp. But he has one more thing to say.
What would you give to finally win my approval, my son?
And then, as if to leave Aymeric to wrestle with that last thought, Thordan goes silent once more, and his vision clears once more, just in time for him to hear Estinien speaking about Thordan I and, to Aymeric's ears, casting judgment on his choices thus far. ]
You speak of what you do not know. [ Aymeric's voice is quiet, but his tone is hard, and the glowing in his eyes seems even brighter as he begins to address the dragoon. ] Everyone who is on this star will be made to see reason, and they will join our side. Those who do not... Their fate is unfortunate, but everything that is worth obtaining requires a sacrifice.
He promises peace, and I see no reason why we will not attain it.
[ His gaze zeroes in on Estinien's once more, and he gives a slow nod. ] Have we not always been frank with each other? There is no need for cushioning the truth in softer words.
[ That is to say, he would hear what the man he considers a brother would say, knowing that he may not like it or even accept it, but he would rather hear it plainly. ]
Ah, Estinien. [ Aymeric shakes his head and lets out a long sigh. ] You truly do not know, my friend.
[ Thordan chooses this moment to speak once more, sensing that what Estinien is saying might dislodge the hold he has on Aymeric.
Give no heed to the words he says. Have I not expressed remorse for my past actions and treatment of you? The two of us have a chance for a new beginning, and he seeks to put a stop to that. Will you let him have that chance? ]
Are you so confident that I will never see what he offers me? He has done wrong, and he admits to it without hesitation, and I see no reason why I ought not at least attempt to accept the hand that he offers.
[ At the moment, Aymeric's rage at everything Estinien is saying is merely simmering below the surface, but it is so close now that it would not take much for it to boil over. His eyes narrow as he waits for his friend's response, certain that whatever he will say, he will not like it nor accept it. ]
no subject
Do not think yourself so highly that you could speak to me as if I know naught. I know far more than you or any of the Scions could ever dream to know!
[ He is aware there is little point in arguing with Aymeric. The man is not himself or aware of what he says and does. However, there are certain things he will not stand for.
Estinien leans closer to the bars as a growl rumbles from him. One that feels out of practice as he has not had the need to feel such anger in some time. ]
Lest you forget, brother, we have obtained peace. War with the dragons has ended by Nidhogg's death. Now all that remains is the war with the Empire. Your war would see all those who wish to have their own lives and destinies die by your sword. Is that truly peace, or is it a world made of authorities of lies?!
[ Despite the anger and the clear offense he has taken? He has noted that no talk of the Warriors of Light as people seems to phase Aymeric. The primal must truly be drowning out all that his brother covenants as his with falsehoods and promises. ]
Primals know no love. They eat at the heart, mind and soul till nothing remains. You will not be you, Aymeric. How can you be loved as the bastard child you are if you are warped beyond who you are?
[ At that, he finally leans away from the bars and half turns. ] It matters not in the end. You know as well as I that the Primals have not stood chance against the might of the Warriors of Light... nor will they ever.
no subject
Thordan's words and attempt at weaving an eloquent spell meant to further ensnare Aymeric have been abandoned in favor of a wordless, almost animalistic bellowing. Clearly, Estinien's words have struck a nerve with the primal and with Aymeric both.
He has no words to use to respond, but he has anger and rage and a churning desire to reach through the bars and strike out at Estinien, if only he could. A growl of his own bursts from Aymeric's mouth, and once again, he takes a step back from the bars, intending to use whatever momentum he can gather to throw himself against them. He has been held in here too long, and it is time that ended. All he needs to do is get Estinien to open the door, and then he will seize his chance.
... If he can get him to open the door, that is. Estinien's jab at the might of the Primals and how it will not stack up against the strength of the Warriors of Light only adds to the strength of Aymeric's fury, and it is with an enraged roar that he vents his anger and rage against the cell bars.
He finds his voice just long enough to snap at Estinien once more: ] It is bold of you to speak those words from your position of safety. Why not test the might of the Primals and what strength you have, instead of tossing bold words and using the bars of this cell as your shield?
[ If Aymeric were in control of himself, he would have died rather than throw such careless words at his oldest friend, but his rage and Thordan's influence are both too strong and have all but drowned out both his will and his convictions, warping them both until they are unrecognizable. ]
no subject
It is clear that it is not only the enthralled Aymeric behind that fury, but also the fury of the primal himself.
Seven hells.
A huff of a laugh comes from Estinien at the bait from the other man. He knows the general state of health his friend is in. He could hardly contend with him in a state, primal influence or not. Estinien had done his best not to break bones or anything vital... but not many can remain unscathed from a skyborne attack from a dragoon. As such, he slowly dislodges Nidhogg from his back.
A moment of silence passes.
Then, the dragoon moves.
He first charges the cell door himself to cause a shockwave to knock his friend from the bars. Once staggered, Estinien quickly enters the cell door and closes it behind him, tossing the key to their release between the bars and into the small hallway. His ice cold blue eyes dart to Aymeric once more. His lance readies across his body.
Another charge. This time, the lance spread across his body, meaning to pin the Lord Speaker to the stone wall behind him. If he can manage to not only hit him but hold him there? It maybe possible to simply wear the other man down until he succumbs to the demands of his injured body. ]
You've made a foolish decision, brother. You have no weapon to wield and no stamina to fight. Yield!
no subject
Yield? I will not, not to you or anyone else who tries to get in my way.
[ Even so, this latest attempt to slam himself against the bars has rendered him just a hair unsteady, but he manages to catch himself and hold himself still even as he braces himself for what is certain to be an attack. It is what he wanted, after all, considering how he did his best to goad his old friend into taking action.
What he was not prepared for, however, is the speed with which Estinien moves. One minute, he is outside the cell; the next, he is charging the bars, the force of his speed sending Aymeric hurtling back, momentarily stunned. But then, before he can recover or react, Estinien is inside the cell with him, having thrown the key outside and locking the door once more.
At the same time as Estinien moves, Aymeric also changes position, having recovered from the staggering blow, intending to attempt striking out at Estinien, even though he has no weapon and his physical strength pales in comparison. But before he can even make contact, Estinien's strike with his lance catches Aymeric in the midsection, propelling him into the wall behind him, and the force with which he lands against the wall drives the air out of his lungs.
Knowing that he only has a split second before he is pinned to the wall, he lashes out with both hands, hoping to block Estinien's lance before the shaft of the long weapon traps him. If he can just catch it before that happens, he might be able to push against it and slip to one side. But his reflexes are not nearly as sharp as they should be, even with the roar of the primal in his mind, driving him to keep putting up a fight. ]
You may be armed with that accursed lance, but you will not hold me here another second longer, Estinien.
no subject
I will not? Let us test your theory. Could your God-King defeat my lance? You forget your history! Thordan fell before the might of Nidhogg!
[ He presses the lance further against Aymeric's chest in an attempt to further weaken him.
The Lord Speaker was not wrong in calling it an accursed weapon. It seethes with what little remains of the essence of the great wrym that was within him. Rage and hatred quelled and tempered into a weapon of peace and hope.
The sound of footsteps catches his ears, and then the door to the room of cells is thrown open. Seven hells! A quick glance is sent behind him, only long enough to catch the familiar small forms of two Miqo'tes.
He is out of time. ]
What is--Estinien?! Ay--
[ Estinien growls he does not need the healer of the two trying to interfere. He interrupts her then: ] Restrain her! Do NOT let her in!
[ Whoever she had brought will do well to listen to his barked order as he presses one last time into Aymeric. His eyes meet the glowing one of his old friend's. Yield, DAMN YOU! ]
no subject
Your lance is nothing! Weapons can be broken, and yours is no exception to that, even with what remains of Nidhogg lending you his power.
[ But said lance presses against his chest, and a desperate cry that sounds more like an enraged scream bursts from Aymeric as he struggles to free himself.
So focused on trying to free himself from the lance that is still pinning him against the wall, Aymeric does not even register the arrival of the two Miqo'tes. There is a scuffle as whoever else has accompanied the sisters does what has been demanded by Estinien, but Aymeric pays no mind to what is going on. He sees Estinien glance to one side, and that is when Thordan rails at him once more.
Now! You must move now!
With what feels like the last bit of strength that he has, spurred on by the added strength he gets from Thordan's rage, Aymeric presses once more against the lance. Already short of breath from being slammed against the wall, he finds himself gasping for air as the lance is pressed even more against him.
Finally, he sinks to one knee, Thordan still shouting at him in his mind. But try as he might to stand once more, it seems that he no longer has the strength to rise.
His field of vision is beginning to darken around the edges as he slowly begins to succumb to the wounds he has already sustained, but he cannot give in, not yet: not before he makes one final attempt to persuade his friend to join his cause. ]
Estinien- [ A note of desperation is all too clear in his voice. ] You... You do not understand. [ He has to labor for each word he speaks, but he must make his friend understand. ] Ishgard will never know peace until all have come to join with us.
[ Still fighting against the darkness that is threatening to pull him under, he places one hand on the ground, leaning heavily on it even as he stares up at Estinien, as if the prolonged eye contact will sway his friend from his stance. ]
no subject
[ He does not flinch at the cry, nor does he budge the moment Aymeric falls. Estinien then angles the end of his lance into the ground, baring the ability for the man to move forward.
His eyes remain on Aymeric, even as he desperately reaches out to him. He does not move or speak to the attempts to change his position. Instead, he seeks to keep Aymeric where he is. Estinien meets the gaze of his old friend before shaking head once.
Once Aymeric begins to fall, he is quick to catch him with one arm. He hears the cry from behind him belonging to none other than one of the Warriors of Light. Estinien frowns and closes his eyes. ]
Nay, brother. Not this day... nor any other day. [ Estinien then turns to the group behind him. He sees both Warriors and, surprisingly, the young lordling himself. ] The key to the cell is on the floor in front of you. Unlock the cell once you have obtained a pair of irons. Now, quickly!
[ Alkaid remains in place despite the barking of orders from Estinien. She feels almost rooted in place with her ears tucked to her head and eyes wide. Her hands raise grab at one another as she stares. Her gaze simply moves between Aymeric and Estinien, back and forth, until all the pieces align in her mind.
Estinien sees to it that Aymeric is restrained by chains to the stone wall. He stands and removes himself from the cell, keeping the door open enough for one of the smaller ones to enter. ]
It would seem all of you need to be updated on current events. Go to him, Alkaid. I will see to it that Alphinaud and K'thisru are fully informed. Then, I will speak to you once you are ready. [ His gaze moves to the other two and he slides the key into his glove. He wordlessly leaves to the hallway attached by the door, expecting the other two to follow.
Alkaid slips into the cell and closes the door behind her. ]
no subject
He does not register anything that happens after his senses flee from him, but when he finally begins to stir, he has no recollection of how long it has been nor how he wound up being chained to the wall.
It takes him a moment to raise his head, and another moment still for his eyes to finally open, and when he does, he wishes that he had remained senseless. The fury of the primal that shielded him from feeling pain has subsided, and in its absence, every bit of pain from his various wounds has crashed down on top of him in full force.
While he is doing his best to navigate the waves of pain, a realization that is not kind in the least occurs to him: the voice in his head, the one belonging to his father, has gone silent and is not responding however hard he tries to raise it again.
Suddenly, there is another kind of pain, a far stronger one than just the kind that comes from physical wounds. It is a fear of abandonment, of being cut off from the one person whose approval he desperately craves.
Although he is chained to the wall, he can at least move his hands enough to clench them into fists as he tries to battle against these unwanted emotions. It isn't until his vision clears even further that he realizes he is not alone in the cell. Someone is sitting in front of him, just barely within arm's reach. ]
... Estinien? [ He cannot seem to see clearly, or else he would already know just who is there with him. His voice sounds strange to his ears, as if it has been unused for a long period of time; for all he knows, it might have been. ]
no subject
The reports of towers and clans disappearing had spread over the world. They had seen to Titan long enough for Alisaie to contend with the priests and then with Ga Bu, then shifted towards those that would summon Leviathan. They had only heard of the towers appearing to the north in Corethas when Admiral Merlwyb summoned them to her offices. Thanks were shared before the information given that the Lord Speaker of Ishgard was housed in the cells below. Without warning, she had dashes from the offices and the quickest way down to the cells.
The new dress had been one she hoped to share under better circumstances. A way to show that what had happened when they were summoned by the Crystal Exarch would not keep her down for long. Shoulderless, edged with ruffles, and a bow on the back by her tail. Of course, her hair remained ever lighter now: blonde with pink ends and highlights. One mint-green eye turned forever blue. Two markings to show that her time away had left their marks.
Alkaid slowly approaches him after what feels an eternity. The brown thigh high boots echo in the room as she walks, and she removes the crowning headpiece and the detailed braces at her wrists. They are placed to the side as she finally kneels down in front of him. Her blonde hair frames her face as it remains loose, freed from her braids and ponytail. Her gaze remains on his face until she is certain he will not wake.
Then, her attention turns to his labored breathing. A hand raises to his chest as her eyes slip shut. His aether would normally speak of what is injured, but now, it only speaks of stagnation and blinding holy light. She freezes then as fear grips her. The signs are there but she desperately wishes to deny the truth. No, no. He could not be...
She bites her lower lip and sets about to heal the internal wounds. His aether cannot tell her where she is needed most, thus she needs to rely on her knowledge of conjurey and not white magic. Her head dips down and all her focus goes from one wound to another. He will still harbor the bruises from internal bleeding, but she can at least repair the wounds themselves caused by the dragoon.
Hours feel quiet like eternity. She is aware that the others come to check on her, but she does not answer them. She simply moves from wound to wound, only pausing to gather her strength. The work keeps her busy and keeps her from falling apart.
Her ears twitch as his breathing changes. Slowly, her head tilts up to look at him. Her eyes keep to his face as he clearly battles with gaining his senses and whereabouts. A motion is made to answer him until he questions who it is sat in front of him.
Estinien.
Alkaid will not admit outloud the ripple of pain that moves inside her at the name. Despite her attempts not to react? Her ears press fully to the back of her head and her tail curls around her frame. He does not see her... either as the Warrior of Light or his betrothed.
Her eyes close and her lower lip quivers. ]
... No. I'm sorry to cause you disappointment. [ My knight, my love. ] ...S-shall I fetch him for you?
no subject
Clearly it is not Estinien, because he knows how the sound of the dragoon's voice. Finally, his eyes clear enough for him to get a proper look at Alkaid, and that is when it hits him: one of the Warriors of Light herself has joined him inside the cell, but for what purpose?
His mind is clouded enough that he has not realized what had a grip on him has temporarily dissolved, but he still has enough of his wits to know that something terrible has happened to him and to others as well.
He shakes his head and immediately regrets it, because the action is met with a severe pounding in his head. If his hands were not bound by chains, he would clasp one of them to his head, but all he can do is close his eyes and wait for the pounding to cease. When it does, he opens his eyes once more and does his best to meet her gaze, should she also open her eyes again. ]
No- Please, would... Would you stay? [ His right hand moves as if wanting to reach for her, but the chains hold it in place. Still, he strains against it, hoping to cause his bonds to give way just a fraction. ] Alkaid, I-
[ He very nearly chokes upon saying her name, as an emotion he does not entirely understand swells up inside him. ]
I'm sorry. [ He only has vague flashes of memory concerning what has happened in the past several hours, but he remembers enough to know that none of it was pleasant. Still, he cannot be sure how much she saw and what she might have heard, and that is the reason for his apology. ]
no subject
The memory causes her eyes to snap open as that same fear grips her now.
What if I am unable to save Aymeric too?
Can she save him? Despite how much she wishes to deny it, the evidence is clear within his aether. It has stagnated and aligned to only one way. He is tempered... and she as well as the Scions know the clear signs of it. The shock of the situation has melted away into a sort of raw wound, causing her hand to shake once she fully accepts the situation in front of her. He is tempered as many must be in Ishgard.
Estinien said he would inform them of what happened, but, she feels as if she needs no knowledge. Only one primal in the world could have enthralled her knight with how strong his convictions are. Which means that, once more, they must end the visage of God-King that Aymeric's father became.
She watches as he shakes his head, her hand slowly moving upwards to his chest to heal the damage caused by Estinien's lance. Her gaze is there ready to meet his now, eyes glistening with water with the reality of the situation all crashing down upon her. The green glow of her healing magic subsides once she moves to speak, only to stop the moment that he speaks her name.
Her false name, that is.
While it logically should all align that he would not use her real name? She cannot help but feel as if the notch in her heart is chipped at again. The tremor in her hand increases and perhaps it is for her benefit he cannot see her properly. She has never been skilled enough to hide her emotions from him. ]
O-of course... a-always, as long as you want.
[ Her gaze lowers and eyes travel to the side at his hands. She leans upwards towards the chained hand so he might stroke one of her ears that remains folded to the back of her head. He had always been timid of touching them, but she knows it had usually calmed him in some manner.
She is careful not to touch him with her hands or rest of her body as she leans upwards. What if her touch agitated him and caused his wounds to ache more? He, to her, is still Aymeric, the one that she loves as much as she loves the star she walks on. In his current state? He may not see her as Lantaa or even one of the Saviors of Ishgard. All he might see is one of two Warriors of Light who bring about an end to primals and therefore his God-King.
Reduced to nothing more than the visage of a weapon. There is a bitter irony in it all. Aymeric had been the first leader to treat she and her sister as comrades and people. Now, she might be to him is what he disagreed with the Scions treating them as. ]
The pain may remain, but, I've healed most of the wounds you've received. I... [ She wants to do so much more, but knows she cannot. Not when he is tempered and a danger to those outside. The danger she is in never truly crosses her mind. ] I... Aymeric, I...
no subject
I must tell you this, before it is too late... before I no longer know what it is that I am saying. [ Because he has at least the memory of harsh words that he threw at his dearest friend not very long ago, and he wishes to make himself clear before that happens once again, as he is certain it will. ]
I would have you here with me, but to ask that of you would be only placing you in harm's way, and I would sooner die than inadvertently bring harm to you.
[ There is a slight pause, and he adds: ] Lantaa.
[ If this is the last chance that he has to use her true name, then he will not hesitate in doing so. Then, his gaze dips as well, but the hand that rests upon her ear gives it one slow stroke, as if he is afraid of hurting her.
And, knowing that he is only contradicting himself, he forces himself to look up so that his eyes are locked on hers. ]
If you remain here, there is no telling what amount of danger you will be in.
[ A look of determination that is colored by no small amount of sadness is in his eyes as he looks at her. ] I am thankful for your healing, but for your safety, and because I could not bear it if I brought harm to you...
[ He hopes that if any of the gods are listening, they will hear him now, and keep her from taking what he says as a rejection, a sign that he no longer wishes for her to be with him. He hopes that this will be a temporary separation, that somehow, he will be freed of the influence that he is certain will assert itself soon. When this is all over, he hopes that she will still be there beside him, still wishing to be joined to him as his wife. ]
For your safety, perhaps you should reposition yourself on the other side of those bars.
[ Even as he speaks those words, he feels something deep inside him stirring, and there is a clawing at his mind that can only mean one thing: Thordan is attempting to regain his hold over Aymeric, and he cannot afford to have Alkaid with him when that happens. ]
Our time is short, I'm afraid. [ And with that knowledge looming over him, he gives her ear that is still within reach another fond stroke, as if he is trying to commit the feel of her to memory. He may not be able to hold on to much of himself or his memories when enthralled by the primal, but he has to try regardless. ]
no subject
The hand not resting on his wound raises to his face, fingers gently resting below his chin. She gives the gentleness of nudges so he might look at her. Her bangs are pulled to the side to show the scar that had been left by Nidhogg, accompanied by the scar on one cheek from Gaius van Baelsar, and the opposite cheek one from Zenos yae Galvus. Those along with the long scar on her side he quite obviously would now already, but, it is more of a reminder that she has faced large and impossible things already.
His meaning of his words is not lost; for what he truly says is he could not bear the thought of him hurting her. Alkaid is full knowing of the fact that Aymeric could damage her in ways that no one else could. There are things only he knows of her--and should an enthralled person wish to--he could use them against her. Yet, she remains sat in front of him, leaning upwards into his hand and her eyes never leaving his.
Water gathers in her eyes at the use of her real name. She thought herself strong, given she had only ever cried in front of him when he had proposed. That illusion shattered upon her return from the Crystarium and Norvrandt and the hails of the Crystal Exarch. Yet, even with the physical changes hinting at the trauma that no one should ever face, Aymeric never turned her away. She was still--and still remains--Lantaa to him. How then could she abandon him? Especially once they have cured him. There is no doubt or question in her mind that will not achieve it.
Her tail curls against her. Would he still call her by her true name even as the primal takes him again? Or, will she only be the Warrior of Light in his mind? ]
I have kept you waiting for far too long. I will not leave you now. Not when--not now. [ Her head cants fully into his hand then. ] Not after everything.
no subject
His gaze takes in each scar that she shows him, first one, then another, and finally the last one. He knows what it is she is trying to convey through actions and not words, and he ought to draw comfort from it, but the truth of the matter is that he fears being drowned out by the primal once more, of no longer being in control of himself, his actions, and his words.
She may very well walk away from this encounter; perhaps not whole and unscathed, but she will still be in control of herself. He, on the other hand, has the knowledge that at any time, he could lose the control he has managed to gain, and it will be taken over by another soul that is not so kind or considerate.
That clawing in his mind intensifies at that, as if to prove his point, and for just a moment, Aymeric closes his eyes against the push and pull that seems to be occurring between his will and the will of Thordan. ]
If I have not told you that I would wait a thousand years for your return, then I have been remiss indeed, because no period of time is too long. But for your own well-being, you must... You should retreat to the other side of the cell.
[ With an exhale of air, his head tips back briefly, reacting to the continued efforts of Thordan to wrest control back from him. It seems that it will not be long before the fragile hold he has on himself will be snatched away. ]
Lantaa, please... I must ask that you withdraw. [ Even as he beseeches her to leave him for her own safety, his fingers lightly ghost against the ear that is still within his reach. ]
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It has been long enough. No more. [ Not until they have saved him; until Ishgard is safe of all primals. Not until he can be home in the Manor where he ought to be, and not in a cell in Limsa. ] I've faced countless horrors with my sister. I will not leave you to fight these alone. Even if you can no longer even tell it's me...
[ Her eyebrows knit slightly as he tilts his head back and fingers ghost over her ear again. She would weather everything the universe could throw at her if it meant he be safe, and she most certainly has. This is no different... other than the ache it leaves in the bottom of her heart and soul.
Both hands move to either side of his face, gently guiding him to look at her once more. Finger tips glide over his cheeks as a way to reassure him that she will bring him home, no matter how far he goes. Their promise of marriage has seen her through the worst of times, and she would see the same done for him now.
A watery smile is given, even as she still refuses to let the tears fall. She leans forward the hair amount of distance it takes and presses her lips to his. He will not suffer in darkness alone and she will be the guiding light to bring him home. The Warrior of Light, his wife-to-be, simply the healer he knows. Whichever he needs she will be, even if it cripples her heart to do so. ]
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Even now, a part of him wishes he did not have to urge her to leave, or in the event of her failing to do as he has asked, that he will not have to beseech Estinien to remove her to safety. Selfishly, he wishes to keep her with him, but the part of him (or, well, the entirety of him, as the case may be) that loves her dearly and only wants to see her safe and well cannot abide that selfish wish.
Still, the struggle between what he desires and what is the right thing to do is plain on his face. His emotions threaten to choke him even as he draws a ragged breath so that he might speak to her while he still can. ]
I will not pretend that I have not missed you greatly in your absence, and if only I could be assured of your safety were you to remain. But I- I think too highly of you, and love you far too much to risk you in this fashion. That you have faced great dangers time and again is not lost on me, but I fear what will happen to you if you remain.
[ His head lowers then, his sliding closed momentarily as his emotions temporarily overcome him. If her heart is aching, then so is his, because he knows he will not be able to hold back the influence of the primal for long, and when his ability to keep it at bay fades, he fears that he will become unrecognizable.
Already he can feel Thordan's essence stirring in the back of his mind, and although he cannot discern intelligible words from his father turned god-king, he can hear wordless vocalizations regardless.
His eyes open once more when he feels Alkaid's hands move to position themselves on both sides of his face, and the ache in his heart only intensifies. It is not right that she must see him in this way, and yet he does not have the heart to drive her from the cell.
When she places that kiss on his lips, he cannot stop himself from leaning forward, pulling at the chains so that he might deepen the kiss, even as the chains digging into his wrists protest. They are not the only thing protesting, as Thordan has taken this moment to awaken and express his rage because the accursed Warrior of Light has decided to interfere once more.
Have you forgotten me so soon, my son? Again, the primal attempts to ensnare Aymeric with the lure of the love he has so desperately craved, and with a chastisement meant to manipulate that desperation into action.
As Thordan's words and control begin to pull at Aymeric's will once again, he makes one final attempt to repel the unwanted influence and remain himself, but his mental defenses have already taken several hits and the strain of trying to drive Thordan from his mind plays itself out in the form of a violent struggle. This is one thing he hoped to spare Alkaid from having to witness, but now that the fight has begun, there is little he can do.
His back arches, his head tipping back against the cell wall directly behind him, unwillingly breaking the kiss and the last bit of contact between himself and Alkaid. He strains at the chains holding him in place, but they do not budge, not even an inch. Instead, the pressure of the chains digging into his wrists draws blood, but Aymeric's straining efforts still do not cease.
Why do you fight me, Aymeric? Have you forgotten that I only wish to end all wars and bring peace to our lands once more? Thordan's wheedling words sink into Aymeric's mind, but he still desperately tries to resist just long enough that he might convey a desperate plea to Alkaid, if she is still listening. ]
Alkaid... [ He has just enough presence of mind to not use her true name, not wishing to give the primal more fuel to use against them both. ] Please- you must leave!
[ Then, Aymeric's eyes that had only been glowing dimly up to this point suddenly burst into a far brighter one, signifying that Thordan has successfully broken through his defenses and reclaimed his hold on him once more. But even so, Aymeric's struggle to free himself has not ended; in fact, his furious efforts to break the chains only increase in ferocity, driven by a mindless rage at those who would stand in the way of his goals. ]
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If he is distraught for her to see him in such a state? Perhaps it is good she has not yet divulged the details of her most recent time away.
Her ears lift only slightly as he returns the kiss, adjusting so he must not lean so far forward. It would take hours, if not days, to properly heal all that has been done to him. She would not have him anymore injured on her account. As soon as she moves, she feels him pull away. Her eyes snap open and widen at his reaction. Ears tucked to her head once again as he starts to pull at his chains violently. Immediately her hands go to his, fingers wrapping around his hands to hold them still.
The force in his motions is almost shocking, causing her own hands to tighten and the force felt all the way through her arms. Her head tilts down so she may lock her gaze with his. Then, she anchors herself with her knees, making the point that she will not budge even as his eyes brighten to a form of light she has only seen once.
For the briefest of moments her mind snaps back to those distant lands of Norvrandt, seeing malformations and thr screams of those being tormented into shapes they ought not to be. Her hands shake as her vision is filled with white alabaster skin and feathers falling...
Another tug of his hands snaps her back from the lands and her gaze focuses on him once more. Alkaid's eyes narrow. The light in his eyes is not the same as then--it belongs to a foe she faced with her sister long ago. ]
Aymeric, please, stop! You'll only hurt yourself more!
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Finally speaking aloud once again, the vulnerability that was in his voice replaced by a thinly veiled tone of rage, Aymeric pulls even harder at the chains that are holding him in place. ] How can I stop when the safety of those whom I have sworn to protect is at stake?
[ His true self has been all but silenced by Thordan's influence, but the small remnant that remains mostly whole reminds him that Ishgard has found peace with the ending of the Dragonsong War, and that Thordan wishes to manipulate Ishgard's people into being drawn into a war that would see even more lives lost.
But those reminders do not land as well as they would have, if not for the voice of the primal doing its level best to keep Aymeric's mind and will bound to its malevolent cause.
Although she has wrapped her hand around his, in hopes of holding them in place, he continues to pull and twist, as if he can bend the chains through sheer force of will. The action only causes the cuts forming on his wrists to widen and grow deeper, but he is so focused on his action that he pays no mind to the drops of blood that begin falling onto the surface of the chains.
Clearly, the primal has little care for Aymeric's physical well-being, although he would not make a very useful subject if he is too injured to even move. Still, things have not degraded to that point, and so Thordan keeps up a relentless stream of commentary designed to keep Aymeric fighting until he breaks free or either the meddling Warrior of Light or the equally bothersome dragoon intervene. ]
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While she is unsure of how much the current summoned incarnation of Thordan knows or remembers of her and her sister's deeds? She is certain the knowledge within the minds of Ishgardians of how they slew the Archbishop gives enough fuel to enrage the primal.
Alkaid closes her eyes and forces the lump of emotions in her throat down. Her hands over his spread, fingers finding their way to release his curled fists before sliding in between his. Then, with an unexpected force, her hands clamp onto his and shove his hands to the stone wall behind them. She leans her whole body weight into the motion, chest practically pressed into his as if her body weight might impede his. The two-toned eyes lock with his glowing ones as she presses their hands to the wall. ]
How could you ever lead them like this?! [ There is a hiss in her voice, eyes narrowed, and putting all she might into her motions and words. ] What sort of Commander pushes himself to the brink to be utterly useless to his people?!
[ Her forehead presses to his to make certain he can look nowhere else. He may not see her, but she expects nothing else. Everything that is them has been second to duty. Except, now she puts her duty to him above all else. ]
Your God-King must be truly foolish to waste such an asset like you; making you unable to fight by thrashing around like a wild animal. Stop and breathe a moment, Aymeric.
... no one would heed you in war as you are unable to fight beside them like this. Please, allow me to help.
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What he does have is an image burned into his mind of a time not very long ago in which he asked the Warriors of Light to put a stop to his father by ending his life. Within that image, he does not see the faces of the two sisters that his true self had grown to love, but rather, the menacing images of those who slay primals without hesitation. And with that image comes a strong current of rage, because they dared to challenge the might of King Thordan, and would do so again if given the opportunity.
Rather than answer with words, Aymeric responds with an enraged roar that is a far cry from the articulate yet unpresumptuous way in which he would speak. There are no words in this outburst, just the unbridled fury of one whose mind has been wholly overpowered by a being far greater than himself.
When she presses herself against him, clamping her hands down onto his and attempting to hold them still, he thrashes even harder against her restraining efforts, but somehow, even though he has the might of a primal fueling him, he cannot manage to free himself.
Finally, he answers, and when he does, his tone is steely and harsh, with none of the warmth with which he usually speaks. ]
You, help me? [ A laugh, cutting and cold, bursts from him then. ] You cannot help me, not as you presently are.
[ Thordan chooses that moment to cut in, chastising Aymeric for even entertaining such an idea. The Warrior of Light will never be our ally. How foolish to even consider that she might be swayed to our goals. Abandon such thinking, because nothing will ever come of it. ]
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She puts more of her weight onto her knees and more force into her hands to keep his to the wall. Alkaid locks her gaze with his, a strong resolve yet gentleness trying to make contact with him. The lack of warmth in his voice is instantly noted and she dimly wonders if this is how his enemies precieve him. ]
In my present state, is it? What must I do to be able to help you? [ Her forehead still presses to his even if she has laxed the pressure. If nothing else? She has gotten him to speak to her.
Her forefinger raise to gently brush against his fingers as her voice lowers to softer tones. ] You are bleeding, Aymeric. Your body is bruised and unable to move as you need it. How can you ever hope to serve like this?
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