[ It might not be significant, but this time, the discomfort Aymeric is in cannot be directly attributed to the primal's rage alone but his mind conjuring up the things he fears most. Perhaps it does not seem like a significant difference, but even as he stirs restlessly, something in his movements is less strained than previous attempts.
He still does not have the strength to move as freely as he wishes, but at least he can move a little, and of his own accord. With his eyes now open and him trying his best to shake off the last remnants of sleep, his gaze shifts towards hers, and the hand that reached for Estinien now reaches for her.
Although the woman in white that he beheld in his dreams had her face obscured, something in his mind is completing the details of that picture. It happens slowly, of course, but gradually, her features come into sharper view, and one of the first things that registers with him is the ribbon at the end of her braid. The ribbon itself is, of course, only a ribbon, but it is the color that draws his attention. It is a similar color as the one used on Ishgard's flag, and that she wears that color to decorate her hair is something that sparks something in his mind.
Thus far, his mind has been clouded and dormant, thanks largely to the primal's influence, but something about the sight of that ribbon has caused the fog swirling in his mind to roll back just a fraction.
His arm moves, shaking just slightly from the strain needed to lift it, but he manages to move it just enough to reach for her hand before she pulls it away to call for Estinien.
The shaking in his arm travels to the rest of his frame, as if his actions are requiring no small amount of effort to complete, and even though the brief healing applied to his injuries has helped ease his breathing, he still has to fight for enough breath to say what he wishes to. And, naturally, the primal is blocking his efforts, but he is doing his best to push back against that as well. ]
L- [ A cough interrupts him, but he tries again. Something about this seems important, that it is an action that he must complete, no matter what tries to stop him amd to stifle his words. Even if doing this means he is short of breath once again, something inside him is telling him it's worth it. ]
Lantaa. [ He only has enough breath to say her name, her true one this time, and once he does, his arm falls again and he has to lie still, that small exertion having taken a lot from him once more.
But, strangely enough, even though the primal roars and clamors in his mind, and he flinches as it crashes down upon him, he does not bend as thoroughly beneath it as he had previously.
He still is not very strong, of course, and although he does not catch every word that Estinien says to him, the overall message sinks in.
There is an order in Estinien's words, and Aymeric feels compelled to obey, at least as best as he can. So, with that in mind, he places a hand down upon the ground, pushing against it so that he might push himself up as well.
He nearly falls back down, muscles still clearly lacking their usual strength, but he catches himself before that can happen. And unlike the last time he stumbled and fell, he does not injure himself again. It seems to take an eternity, as he can only move one small ilm at a time, but he finally manages to reach a sitting position.
Standing seems like a daunting task, if he can achieve it at all, but at least sitting up on his own is a start. ]
[ The hand he reaches for gently squeezes his arm once more as she feels him shake. Her eyes travel back to him even as Estinien enters the cell. Ears twitch slightly at the sound as she waits to see what he might muster to say. She does not expect him to recognize her in any fashion and instead expects he might ask for something else. She can only imagine that King Thordan wishes the Warrior of Light to be an enemy, and thus if Aymeric will not see an enemy, he may not see her at all.
Instead, the one thing she had not expected comes from his lips and her entire person freezes. If she was to be honest and true? Somewhere, deep down, she had never expected to hear her name from him again. She thought it buried and locked away underneath too much for him to remember, let alone say. Alkaid stays frozen, watching as Aymeric pushes himself up. She only moves to help steady him once more so he might eventually sit up. The whole while she remains unusually silent and staring at him. Almost if she were afraid that speaking or moving more would send him back to the state he had been in.
Estinien nods to the progress Aymeric has made. Then, his steel-ice eyes move to Alkaid. His eyebrows raised beneath his white locks. ] 'Lantaa' is not a name I am familiar with. By chance...
[ The dragoon trails off the moment Alkaid moves. Her shaking hands rest on either side of Aymeric's face before she guides him to meet her in a kiss. His eyebrows raise as it takes a moment to settle in that the person Aymeric had called out to is the Warrior of Light herself.
While he may not understand even if she spoke the words? She hopes that her betrothed may receive what it is she says. Lantaa has heard him clearly and remains at his side as she promised. There is no expectation that he might kiss back or even acknowledge the motion. Even then, her tail slightly moves side-to-side in hopes that he might be able to respond regardless. Lantaa is desperately reaching out to him, but oh, so very terrified she might harm him when she means only to save him.
Then, she gently rests her forehead to his as her bottom lip trembles. Despite all her might and will, she cannot help the fact her emotions seem ready to burst out of her. While it has only been a few days for her, she misses her knight more than she ever as. She misses his smile, his touch, and his voice. Her thumb brushes across his cheek and she wonders if he might be able to see the longing in her eyes. ]
Aymeric... [ Alkaid's voice fails her again as her emotions solidify in her throat. I'm here, just as I swore; at your side where you've asked me to stay.
Another kiss is pressed to the edge of his mouth in another silent plea he remain with her.
Estinien remains quiet long enough to allow them a moment. Then, he stands, and offers his hand to the man he calls brother. He intends full well to pull Aymeric up to his feet and half-carry him. It is done at the pace of the man now sitting up and even Estinien is surprised at his own level of patience for the moment. Once he has a hold of the man, Estinien gently help him up and slings one of his arms over his shoulders. Alkaid sets to gathering the blankets and pillow, folding them up together and pushing herself up as well.
Her gaze moves to the dragoon as she can feel a question forming in his gaze. ]
Lantaa, is it? I had always thought 'Alkaid' a strange name for a Miqo'te. [ He gives a small smirk and slowly turns to the front of the cell. ] I would go at your pace but it would take us years to reach our destination. Move your legs see fit and walk as you might, Aymeric. Even if that means I must drag you to your room.
[ Alkaid moves but a half-step forward before she finds herself stopping. The dragoon moves forward, but she finds herself rooted in place. Her hand lifts enough to reach out to Aymeric's, only to stop short of touching him. This time she does not pull away or lower her hand. Would he even wish to hold her hand, or had she missed the opportunity?
What if it had been the last chance to hold onto his hand and she had missed it? ]
[ So much of him has been pushed down and drowned out by the raging primal, but the part of him that remains himself all but cries out to be heard. The internal struggle might not show on his face, but inside, he is desperate to reach for Alkaid, to say something to her that will further let her know he is still there.
It is a barely formed thought, and it pulls at his heart the moment it springs to mind, but the part of him that is still capable of rational thought wonders if she will still be able to love him, given how hard he has fallen and how much of his strength has been lost. If he could, he would stand on his own and take her hands in his, but at the moment, it is all he can do to sit up.
But then, she slips her hands around his face and presses her lips against his, and his body reacts almost automatically, rising to lean into the kiss as if all of his weakness has momentarily fallen away. The primal does not take this well, of course, and for a moment, there is a flash of pain in Aymeric's eyes, but it fades from view as quickly as it came.
When Estinien finally takes hold of Aymeric and pulls him to his feet, he stills, becoming compliant and letting his friend do with him as he will. Of course, he requires assistance to stand, but at least he is finally upright once more.
And then, in response to Estinien's directive, Aymeric takes a hesitant step forward, legs seeming to wobble with the effort, and when he takes a second step, his knees bend as if threatening to give way. If not for Estinien holding him up, he might have fallen to the ground once more.
But in spite of Aymeric's struggle to walk, or perhaps because of it, the fingers of his free hand move slowly, as if wanting to bridge the distance and reach for Alkaid's again. ]
[ Alkaid cannot imagine not loving him. It hardly matters if he is not the spitting image of the perfect proper Lord Speaker. She does not love him because he is the Lord Speaker or because he was the Lord Commander of the Temple Knights. It is all the pieces of him that shine through no matter what mantle he wears. It is the adoration and love he has for his people and his city, and for how much better they could be. His voice, his eyes, even the way his head tilts as he reads over the reports.
There is no part of his current state she blames on him or even allows to cloud her vision of him. He is still Aymeric de Borel, even if he is under attack, injured, and past a point of exhaustion.
Her eyebrows knit together as she sees the pain in his eyes. In an instant there is an apology in her own eyes. She feels as if all she does is cause him more pain and strife. Alkaid brushes her fingers across his cheeks once more. She would kiss him more, longer, deeper. Yet, the pain he is in makes her curl up inside herself.
Alkaid reaches out to brush her fingers along his before sliding into his hand to hold it. her hand is still cold, showing that she had not taken much of the blankets for herself the night before. Her other arm holds onto the blankets and pillow. She nods to Estinien and stays by Aymeric's side as they begin to walk. It is only a few steps at a time, and she notes how Estinien pauses to readjust to make it easier for his friend to walk. ]
It is still early in the morning--the sun has yet to peek. Limsa still sleeps, thus we should be able to get there unhindered or with little attraction pulled to us.
[ Alkaid nods to Estinien's statement and continues to walk beside them. It takes time, but they eventually find their way from the cells and the hallway attached to it. They come to the stairs and Alkaid moves to the front, gently guiding Aymeric upwards with her hand still clasped his. It is only once they have reached the lift that her ears raise and she tilts her head to look up at the dragoon. ]
What room have you managed to get...?
I only pointed out that it may harm relations if they kept the Lord Speaker of the House of Lords of Ishgard in the cells. No inn would take him in his state, thus, the idea was settled for a room given to the diplomatic visitors. [ Estinien shrugs as if it is of little importance. ] I will be on watch outside the door and, in order to calm the hesitant hearts, a member of the Storms as well. Although it is hardly needed.
[ She gives a short nod. It means there will be a comfortable bed and a bath to take care of him for. Of course, her own state is far from her mind. She will eat whenever she will eat, and she will sleep whenever Aymeric himself drifts off to slumber. His state of being is the most important thing in her world right now, regardless of the cost it will bring to herself. Part of her cannot let go of the feeling that so much of the light and life of the star would fade away for her if Aymeric or her sister had to leave. That, in her mind, makes any sacrifice of her person worth it.
Estinien opens the door to the room when they arrive. Without direction, he instantly takes Aymeric to the nearest couch so he might sit down. Alkaid stands at his side in an instant. Her hand is still firmly in his as the other guides his face so he might look up at her.
[ The pain that he feels now is a different sort, not one that can be attributed to the primal, but a more emotional pain: a pain that comes from his heart. But he cannot express his feelings nor his thoughts, not as he presently is; when she pulls away from him, ending the kiss, he raises his eyes so that they are locked on hers, and a wordless sound escapes him.
It sounds distressed, but not because of his present injured state, but because he is responding to her own distress and his fingers move to close lightly around her hand. The gesture may not be comforting to her, because the still-vacant look in his eyes is surely bound to be distressing as well, but he does not remove his hand from hers, even as the three of them make their way along.
As Alkaid and Estinien exchange words, Aymeric's focus moves to taking one step at a time until they reach the stairs and Alkaid continues guiding him until they have reached the top.
When she stops, he stops as well as the discussion about the room Estinien managed to obtain continues. Aymeric glances between Estinien and Alkaid, looking from one to the other as if waiting for some further direction.
Eventually, they reach the room and when Estinien guides him over to the couch, Aymeric settles into it, gaze moving to stare vacantly at the nearest wall, until Alkaid reaches for him, tilting his face up to look at her. ]
[ Alkaid forces a smile for him once he looks up to her. She is very distressed, most certainly a word beyond distressed, but there is little to do for it. The state of her own heart and her mind are a necessary burden to have for her to remain at his side in this moment. If she can help him now, then when the cure is administered... It will all be worth it.
Her cold hand squeezes his then. All she wishes for is that once this ordeal is finished that he does not leave her. Mayhap due to him feeling as if she is better off without him or the notion that she had failed him one too many times.
She bites back the words that almost spring from her: Don't leave me, please. Don't go to places I can't follow. They were words she has said before and words she feels she has no place to ask. She is the on who leaves for places he cannot go. How could she ask him not to do the same? ]
I will see to bringing the pair of you something to eat. [ Estinien only speaks up to announce his leave. Emotional scenes are far from his place. That, and he would not have it said he could not help a Warrior of Light if she broke. ] You may need to tell him to eat. Otherwise he might insist you do instead.
[ Alkaid nods as Estinein leaves and her gaze drops to Aymeric once more. She forces another smile for him. ]
I know it was quite the long walk. You must be tired after it. [ Her free hand raises to gently brush his bangs to the side. A small tremor is there, worried that any touch from her may cause King Thordan to strike and weaken Aymeric further. ] Once you've eaten, I'll help you with a bath, and then you can rest all you need.
[ She leans forward to slightly brush her lips to his forehead once more. There, she remains for a moment, for her heart gives a painful beat. For all the comfort she gives? She cannot help but miss the comfort he gave her. Curling up into his arms and listening to his breathing or as he spoke of things to calm her. Alkaid gives a sharp inhale and presses it down.
Now is not the time. He needs her to guide him, not to weep. ]
It is a foggy and cold morning, isn't it? Let me fetch a blanket. One that isn't covered with dirt.
[ She squeezes his hand again before pulling away. A smile is on her face for him, and she moves slower than she might so he can see where she goes. First, she closes the curtains on the windows, knowing that once it gets brighter his eyes have to adjust go it. Then, she opens a door and then two to note where the bath is. Once she is satisfied with those, she enters the bedroom.
It most certainly is a display of craftsmanship. The best, she supposes, for the diplomatic relations.
She takes a spare blanket from the edge of the bed and quickly returns to Aymeric's side. Then, she moves in front of him, and drapes it over his shoulders so it might cascade around him. It is only after then does she kneel in front of him with her hands resting in her lap. ]
Is there anything you need that I might be able to help with until Estinien arrives? ...anything you might need me to do for you?
[ There must be something other than healing his wounds she can do for him. Even if all she has done had never truly lived up to the standards of being his betrothed or future wife. Being here for him now surely does not count in making up for all the times she was not there.
Her hand hesitantly raises to rest on his knee as she waits for any sort of an answer. ]
[ His words have failed him again, and that only adds to the ache inside him, but even if he cannot use his voice to say what is on his heart, there are other ways of reaching out to her, if only he can find the strength to do it.
This long fight with Thordan has left him weakened and even the smallest of movements is enough to take what little energy he still has. The walk from the cells to this room required no small amount of effort, even with the support from his friends, and even as he sits on the couch, his posture slips as if the effort to remain there is taxing him even now.
He can only watch as Estinien takes his leave, but his gaze only shifts away from hers briefly, and once the dragoon has gone on his way, it turns back to meet her eyes.
As she brushes his bangs to one side, his eyes slide closed for a moment, responding to her touch and a shaky exhale of breath leaves him. Fortunately for them both, Thordan remains quiet, not striking out at Aymeric once more, and when Alkaid's lips brush against his forehead, his eyes reopen, and as if something in him is drawn to her feelings of missing his touch and his comfort, his arm moves, shakily at first, but as steadily as can be expected until his fingers brush against her face.
Then, his hand seems to freeze in place as if suddenly confused to find itself there, but he still does not pull away. She continues speaking, and how she squeezes his hand elicits another quiet sigh from him. Even when she pulls away, he remains still, eyes watching her progress as she moves about, even as she briefly ventures to survey the bath and the bedroom both.
Once she returns with the blanket and places it on him, and puts forward her question, his response is not quite immediate, but certainly faster than anything he has done previously.
His gaze turns briefly to where her hand is resting upon his knee, and somehow, that is encouragement enough for him. Once again, his arm moves, and even though the effort behind it causes it to shake, there is something akin to resolve in his posture as he struggles to complete the gesture.
It is not so much anything that he needs from her, but something he wishes to do for her, even if his sluggish mind has not entirely registered it in those exact words.
With how she is kneeling in front of him, it is not as simple as reaching out to her, so he pushes himself forward from the couch just enough to close the small distance between them. Once that has been achieved, his hand closes lightly over her shoulder, and only then do his movements come to a stop. But all the while, his eyes have been locked on hers. ]
[ She all but freezes once he touches her cheek. Then, her eyes drift shut and she leans into his touch. His sigh causes her heart to skip a beat. For a brief moment everything melts away and it is just the two of them again. Part of her feels as if they may never have this again, and thus it is important to hold it close and treasure it while she can.
Settled in front of him, Alkaid watches as he begins to move. Her ears lift off her head in worry that he might strain himself more than he should. She moves closer to him in order to try and make whatever motion he moves to do easier. Her eyes are locked onto his all the while, never looking away. She wishes she could see what it is he is thinking beyond the glowing blue-and-white that's enveloped his normally sky-blue color. Although, she believes she does know what it is he is attempting to do.
Gently, as she has this entire ordeal, Alkaid slips between his legs. If he was not so injured she would sit on his lap as she might usually. There is only a moment of hesitation before she leans only a fraction of her weight against him if he so wishes to wrap his arms around her underneath the blanket. Her arms raise slowly to move around his waist, letting her head rest against his chest. Alkaid tilts her head up to look at him to make sure that she has not agitated any of the wounds she has unable to heal just yet. ]
... like this? [ She wants to make certain that she understands what he has tried to do. ]
[ She seems to anticipate what he intends to do even before he completes the gesture, and when she slips between his legs, at first he remains still as if not knowing what to do. But then instinct and a desire that, for now, must remain unspoken, takes hold.
His shoulders dip and the blanket that she placed around him begins to slide off, and he catches it with one hand. It takes some maneuvering, and it is hardly a graceful attempt, but he tries to position the blanket around her shoulders instead. Although he is in a diminished state of awareness, he has felt how cold her hands are, and that part of him that still places the needs of others above his own has decided she needs the blanket more than he does.
Still, his effort to put it on her has placed it somewhat lopsidedly, a detail his clumsy efforts are doing little to alter. Finally, he is forced to give up the notion, as the effort has made his arms grow tired and he can no longer hold them up. Instead, they fall to rest against her lower back as he cannot manage to entirely wrap them around her.
Although he does not answer her question with words, he has done his best to convey that this is what he wants, and that he wishes to be sure that she is comfortable as well. ]
[ Alkaid shakes her head the moment he tries to shift the blanket away. She waits until he finishes his attempt before making her move. Her hands come from his waist to readjust the blanket upon his shoulders. However, she then settles back down in front of him. The blanket is then tugged to hang over the pair of them and a tired smile is sent up to him. ]
There, now it fits the both of us.
[ Her hands return to his sides. One rests gently over the scar from the long healed stab wound. Her fingers gently brush along the scar through the fabric of the tunic that is usually underneath is armor that has been taken. ]
If you need to sleep, Aymeric, please do. We can eat once you've rested. [ Her head tilts back further as a sad smile touches the corners of her lips. One of her fingers gently presses against the scar. ] Has this been bothering you since they've brought you here? Or is it only the injuries from Estinien that pain you?
[ It is only for a moment, but the bright glowing in his eyes fades and is replaced by the briefest look of sadness: sadness that he is unable to speak as he wishes and cannot even move so that he might hold her as he once did.
The way she insists on re-draping the blanket so that they are both covered eases some of the concern and worry he holds inside, but the sad look in his eyes remains and the glow that returns does not entirely obscure it.
As her fingers lightly ghost alongside the healed wound, he leans forward once more so that he might rest his head against her shoulder, exhaustion seeming to pull him down even though he does not truly wish to sleep, not yet.
It isn't that his pain has lessened, although she saw to the wounds on his wrists and tended to the bruised areas on his back which has helped him breathe easier, but it has all settled into a constant state of discomfort, only occasionally spiking when the primal feels especially enraged. It isn't particularly comfortable, but it has reached a plateau of sorts.
The old wound has not responded well to the cold of the cell that he was held in, but it has become just another part of the ongoing struggle he has been locked in. Even so, his fingers curl and his lips press together into a thin line as if trying to hold back the ache that has spread out everywhere, not just from the place where he was stabbed. ]
[ His sadness is met by a look of understanding as she nods. They are doing the most that they can do. The fact he can even think to look at her the way he does and try to hold her speaks more than words at the moment. Her fingers move from pressing against his scar to gently rubbing at the site instead. ]
I see. [ She takes it to mean yes, but then everything must be hurting still. ] I'll do what I can to ease it.
[ Alkaid tilts her head so she can kiss the top of his. A shiver comes from where he presses. He always finds a way to make her react even now. She nuzzles her nose into his hair and simply sits as she is for a moment, eyes closed, trying to absorb everything she can in this moment. She believes they will find a cure and he will be free of enthrallment; that everyone will be. Yet, the realist in her cannot help but consider the idea that they may not have much time left together. ]
I love you. [ Her lips press another kiss to his head. ] I have never been good enough at expressing it to you. Just know, that no matter what happens, and where fate may take us, that I love you.
I'm not certain I would have survived what happened in Norvrandt if I didn't have the knowledge we'd be married. No matter how dark things were, how hopeless it was, I knew I had to come home to you. M-maybe that will not help you now... m-maybe I cling to it too much... but I still hold onto that. Even now.
[ A part of him is tired of this diminished existence, but he does not want to just lie down and let Thordan take him from everything and everyone that he loves. To be parted from Alkaid is the last thing that he wants, even though he retains hope that should the worst happen, they will find each other again in another lifetime.
Although he cannot put it into words, just her presence by his side eases his discomfort. Somehow, she calms him, but she also gives him something else to focus on aside from the internal struggle that still has a hold on him.
But as she plainly states her feelings and her love for him, he still cannot give voice to a response, but his eyes still remain fixed on her.
His hands move then to latch onto hers, and although he still lacks the strength to put much into the gesture, he squeezes them as hard as he can to show that he is listening and that her words have not fallen on deaf ears.
If only he could bring to mind the depths of the love he had for her, it would reflect in his eyes, but at the most, they just shine a little bit brighter, a different sort of brightness that cannot be attributed to the primal's influence. ]
[ Her gaze moves down to their combined hands and her expression softens. Her fingers run along his as her lips press to them. His lack of strength in the gesture hardly bothers her. She understands the position he is in. He can barely sit up, yet he is concerning himself with how cold she is and her comfort. She presses her lips to them again in another kiss. It is simply because she misses kissing him. Yet, doing the action causes him such pain.
The part that is a realist is ever present, but even then, Alkaid still hopes against hope. She knows that if they are to be separated by him returning to the star, that she will quite never be the same. Part of her will go with him. She feels as if they are tied together at their souls. Or, perhaps, that is her simply projecting.
Still, she smiles at him again for the look in his eyes.
Her ears twitch once the door opens. Alkaid peeks from the blanket wrapped around them as Estinien enters the room once more, this time with a tray filled with food. She gives him a tired smile as well as the dragoon places the food down on the table behind them. ]
It would seem the two of you have much to catch up on. I will leave you to it, and check in a few hours.
[ Before she can even thank him, Estinien leaves. However, he casts a glance towards Aymeric on his way out. One that says that he ought to not only care for Alkaid but himself. The door closes gently leaving the two alone once more.
Alkaid looks back to Aymeric with a gentle look. She squeezes his hands before standing up. ]
Let's have breakfast.
[ With one final kiss to their joined hands given, she turns to gather their meal. It's a simple soup and rice which is perhaps best given his lack of strength. She takes her seat beside him with the bowl between her hands and raised slightly up for him. ]
Do you need me to hold it for you?
Edited (a few more details ) 2022-03-06 17:49 (UTC)
[ And once again, that yearning to hold her intensifies, even managing to break through the feeling of stagnation that does not come from his stilled aether (because that is not so easily broken), but from the stillness that has been forced upon him. For someone who was accustomed to acting of his own will in order to achieve his goals, this lack of control is stifling. Or at least, it would have been if he was wholly aware of it. Some part of him knows that he is being trapped by the primal's influence, and that is the part of him that is greatly distressed by it.
But as before, how she presses kisses into his hands stills some of the distress that is building up inside him, and although he is unable to move to respond to her efforts, his eyes remain focused on hers and he shifts position just enough to lean in closer to her. They are already very close to each other, but what little distance between them remains disappears when he moves forward.
And when Estinien enters the room carrying the tray of food, Aymeric still does not move away from her; his glance turns to look at the dragoon, and as before, that look of sadness forms itself once again in his eyes. In his present state, he is unable to reach out to anyone, and just as he misses holding Alkaid and speaking with her, he misses the camaraderie and brotherly bond he shares with Estinien.
But there is nothing to be done about that at present, only biding his time until either the primal's influence once again drags him away or something happens to free him from this imprisonment.
Estinien departs as quickly as he came, and in his absence, Aymeric's eyes slide back to meet Alkaid's. Strangely enough, rather than expend the effort to take hold of the offered food, he raises his hands to gently push it towards her. Clearly Estinien's words from before were correct; Aymeric still desires to see her needs met before his own. It might only be soup and rice, and certainly she might find other things more appetizing, but still: he is not the only one who needs to eat. ]
[ Her tail gently flicks at its edge at his actions. She can sense there is something stirring underneath by his posture alone. However, if that is Aymeric, King Thordan, or something else entirely is unknown to her. If only she might be able to help him more. It hardly feels as if she has done anything at all, let alone done enough for him. If she cannot heal him, after everything else she has failed at, then what can she do for Ser Aymeric de Borel other than hold him down with her own struggles?
What lover, even wife-to-be, does that to the person they love?
A tremor begins in her hands again as he gently pushes the food to her. A sign of the emotions she desperately tries to keep hold of to herself as to not burden him further. She understands the meaning of his action clearly: he would have her care for herself first. Two-toned eyes slowly fall to the food between them as her tail stills. If anything is certainly quite obvious of Aymeric still present? His care for others and his stubbornness seems to be unable to be rewritten by King Thordan.
She bites back a plea for Aymeric not to argue with her and to do this for her. The plea would ring hollow as he is most certainly right. She is in need of food and proper rest just as him. Instead, she lets out a sigh that shakes on the verge of tears once more. Then, she raises her gaze to look up at him. She moves her hands forward once more, but this time, she stops between them. ]
We can share it. [ Her braid shifts over her shoulder again once she tilts her head. ] You take a bite and then I will. Then, once we're done, we'll move to the bath.
[ Alkaid then holds the bowl up enough so he might take the spoon for himself. ]
[ He grows tired of this present state of being, of being so hindered by the will of another and the limitations of his own body, but as they have both realized by now, there is very little that can be done at the moment. Even if he had the strength to fight against what keeps him held down, it still would not be enough to throw off the enthrallment.
As for what she has done to help him, she has not abandoned him to his fate, remaining by his side, and that is help enough.
So, he is forced to settle for what he can do, which is try his best to make sure that her needs are met, even if he cannot do very much to insist that she sleeps and eats. Pushing the food towards her is the most he can manage, but true to form, she also declines, suggesting a compromise instead.
He wishes only to please her, to bring a real smile back to her face, but even as he reaches for the spoon, his hand and arm both begin to shake almost uncontrollably and his shoulders sag as if he has only disappointed himself once more. ]
[ Two-toned eyes move to his hand and arm, watching his movements, in case she must intervene. Her ears lift slightly as he moves to take the spoon. Then, her gaze softens as he is unable to complete the motion. She sets the meal to the side for only a brief moment to take his hand in hers and give it a gentle squeeze. He tried, and for now, that is enough. ]
Oh, Aymeric, don't be upset. I shouldn't have asked you to do more than you're ready to do. The walk here was hard enough... I didn't think .... I should have. [ She squeezes his hand again before guiding it to rest inside the blankets. Then, she moves to pick up their breakfast once more into her hands. The bowl is settled in her lap and she fills the spoon full before raising it to his mouth for him to eat. ] You first, then I'll follow.
Then, after you've slept and woken up, I'll be certain to ask for two meals.
[ As she is certain he will not stand for sharing a meal with her again. ]
[ Perhaps it seems strange that this failure has seemingly disheartened him so, but it is just another way that he has been shuttered and rendered helpless. The realization that he is unable to feed himself feels like receiving another blow, not from King Thordan, but from his own diminished but still present sense of pride.
And even as she tries to reassure him and holds up the spoon for him to take the food from it, his shoulders sink lower and for the briefest of seconds, his eyes slide closed. But they only remain that way for a moment, seconds at most, and when they open, he leans forward accepting the offered bite.
It still feels to him as though she ought to focus only on caring for herself and meeting her needs, but even if he had the strength and the words to form that argument, it seems clear enough that she would refuse to accept the notion that caring for him is a futile effort.
And so, for the moment, he remains compliant, taking the food and slowly swallowing it, the only other sign of the disappointment he directs at himself being the way his hands curl beneath the blanket's folds. ]
[ Alkaid watches as his shoulders sink and eyes close. A frown forms on her face at the sight of it all. The knowledge and visual reinforcement that she cannot do anything to aid and heal what the root cause of his state settles on her as one might feel when they reach a sudden stop. Ears tuck quietly against her head once more. Is her presence alone truly enough? ]
I'm sorry I can't do more. [ Her gaze drops to their breakfast and she fills the spoon once again. She intends to hold herself true to her statement. ] I can't reverse what's been done...
[ The grip on the spoon tights just a fraction. ] All I can do is care for you and help your strength return. Even if you decide to return to Thordan and leave me behind... you will at least be able to do it being able to stand and move.
[ Alkaid quickly takes her sharing into her mouth to help stifle her words. She is certain once he is healed and can move? He will attempt to return to Ishgard once more. Ishgard, after all, is his first love and his purpose. So much so that it would seem not even a primal of his father's making couldn't remove it from him. Instead, the primal warped events, and she has no doubt that he feels as if he has failed his homeland.
She doubts King Thordan would let her near Ishgard and would send the others enthralled after them. She knows Estinien would not let Aymeric return to Ishgard in his tempered state. Despite the room that would of been afforded to him should he be a visitor? He is still a prisoner unable to serve his homeland, despite how the vision of it all is twisted in his mind.
She fills the spoon once more and holds it up for him to eat. ]
... do you remember the first time I could heal you? The night of the conference when Nidhogg made his declaration. [ A sad smile touches her face despite the joy, and quite honestly, fulfillment she felt that night. ] I promised to be the armor that you needed; to protect you when no one else might. That way your heart would not hurt as it did the day Nidhogg destroyed the conference meeting.
[ She brushes her thumb along the metal of the spoon once he has eaten his bite. Alkaid closes her eyes and returns it to the soul-rice mixture to gather her own bite. ]
I failed to live up to that promise. You don't need to try and reassure me that I haven't... because I can see it. [ An exhale leaves her. ] Your father hurts you every time you reach out for me, doesn't he? He'll make you pick between me or Ishgard--saving his Ishgard. If I had lived up to that promise then you wouldn't have need to pick between the two. No apologies could make up for that.
[ Alkaid closes her eyes once more as she eats her bite. ]
[ In truth, he wants nothing more than to abandon all other actions except to rest with his head upon her shoulder while she holds him as best as she is able. And barring that, the only thing he desires is her presence and the comfort that he derives from it.
She might doubt that her presence is doing him any good at all, but if she were to leave him for any reason, all desire to even attempt moving and speaking would flee with her. Somewhere inside him, he knows that she is his driving force, the spark that keeps him going even when the odds are stacked against him. That was very much the case during the war against the dragons, and it is the case now.
If only he could tell her that she has no reason to apologize, that she is the only reason he has come as far as he has. And although he might be exhausted beyond belief and wavering on the brink of despair, he is still holding on because she has not given up.
Her words wash over him even as they take turns eating; not everything she says breaks through to him, but in a way, it doesn't have to. Just the sound of her voice is comforting, easing the pain he still feels in his heart and in his body as well.
But how can he reassure her that she has not failed to keep her promise when he cannot even speak? Thordan might tear them apart once again, and that knowledge causes just the barest amount of quickening inside him, beating against the stagnation that has taken hold of his aether and his will alike.
It is not enough, because what little will he still has is not sufficient to break the primal's hold. His shoulders tremble as he tries to fight what might as well be yet another futile attempt, but he must try.
First one arm moves, and then another, unfolding themselves from underneath the blanket. His movements are slow, and again, his arms shake as if protesting the actions he is not ready for. But even if he taxes what little strength he has, reaching out for her is of greater importance.
It seems to take a span of hours rather than minutes, but his fingers eventually brush against hers, fingertips bending to close around her own. Then, a line of tension forms in his shoulders as if anticipating a strike from Thordan, but as more minutes pass, nothing seems to happen.
Still, he does not relax, only leaving his hands just barely holding onto hers.
Without the use of his voice and his words, this gesture might only seen as him further seeking comfort from her, but inside, he is desperate to convey by any means possible that this is his choice. He will always love Ishgard and her people, and should it come to it, he would put himself on the line to save them all, but he loves her too, even more than he values his own life. And yet having a life with her is what he desires more than anything, and that is what spurs him on to continue fighting.
And although the primal's influence is still overwhelming nearly every other thought that he has and any action he would perform, the part of him that is clinging to his sense of self knows that King Thordan is not truly on the side of Ishgard. Or at least, he cares not for the Ishgard that Aymeric knows and loves. He would see Ishgard destroyed, her people enslaved, and for what gain?
For the first time, even though it is only a sliver of Aymeric's true feelings and is not powerful enough to break through his enthrallment, he realizes that Estinien had the right of it: if King Thordan had his way, a great many people would lose their lives, and the peace that they had found following the conclusion of the war would be shattered.
That realization lends a brief strength to Aymeric's hands, and the tenuous grip he has on Alkaid's tightens momentarily before loosening once more. ]
[ Alkaid's gaze remains downcast. Yet, she watches intently as his hands slowly reach out to hers. He freezes to see if Thordan might lash out, and she too freezes. She waits for what ought to be the inevitable recoil he has as the primal who has enthralled him lashes out. Yet, nothing seems to truly happen in that regard. Her hands shake slightly under his touch with emotions unsaid and unshared.
She bites down on her lip slightly before she leans forward to close the remaining space between them. Then, she rests her forehead against his once more. Lamenting how unfair it all is would be so very pointless. Not when he has his own harsh battle he is waging within. She would curl her hands around his in return if she did not hold the spoon and bowl. Instead, she presses her forehead against his further with her eyes closed. ]
I miss you. [ A funny thing to say, she realizes. Especially when they sit together and the problems of the world finally put to the side. Her head tilts so she might press the side of her nose to his. ] It is our first time together in a city beyond Ishgard and war... and we can hardly enjoy it together.
[ Another moment passes before she tilts her head down. They should finish breakfast before anything else. Thus, she returns to her motions of feeding the two of them until the shared bowl is empty. She places it to the side with the spoon. Before standing, she presses a kiss to his cheek that is close to his lips. She dares not kiss him proper in case it undoes the small progress he has made.
Alkaid stands then and removes the blanket from the pair of them. Her hands go to help him stand. Then, she moves to his side and nestles perfectly against his body. One hand goes around his waist while the other rests his hand on her shoulder. ]
I'm far from Estinien, but lean what you need on me, and I will find a way to support your weight. [ A hand gestures to the room in which they must move to. ] That one is the bathroom. I won't see you in a comfortable bed covered in dirt from a cell.
[ It is a slow process to the bathroom. Once inside, she helps him transfer his weight to the sink. Her attention turns then to setting the bath together. She makes certain the water is not too hot. As the tub fills with water, she takes the steps to return to his side and motions to his clothing. He will need to dress down to be inside the water.
She helps however he might need, being careful to look away at certain parts of his nude body. Not because she does not desire him. Now is not the time, nor the place, and he had made certain his stance that most intimate acts should be saved until after they wed. She will abide by his request even now.
Finally, she leads him to the tub and helps him with his weight as best as he can to settle inside the bath. She moves to kneel beside the tub. ]
Is the water too hot or too cold? Do you need me to get you anything before I start?
Edited (editting a few details) 2022-03-08 20:42 (UTC)
[ Although he would try to move more and attempt to speak to her, as she continues alternating between feeding him and taking bites of their shared breakfast, Aymeric falls silent for the next few moments until the bowl is emptied and she sets it aside. The kiss she presses against his cheek elicits a quiet sigh from him, and as luck or fortune would have it, the primal does not react then either.
When she helps him stand, it goes easier this time, although some strain is present in his limbs as he does his best to stay on his feet, not collapsing or bending at the knees as he straightens up with her help.
Although he has once again fallen into an obedient state of compliance as she directs him to the bathroom, he moves more purposefully than he has since this whole ordeal began. And lest she worry, none of the mindless actions he made when he was firmly locked in the grip of rage are present as he takes one slow, unsteady step forward followed by another. He might still be enthralled by the primal, but at the very least, he can move forward with assistance.
Still, when they finally make it into the bathroom, he has to hold onto the sink in order to remain upright as she prepares the bath. When she returns and indicates that he needs to undress, once again, he simply does as requested, needing her aid again at certain points in the process. But eventually, he sheds his clothes and lets her guide him to the waiting tub.
Now that he is unclothed, the bruise patterns that are in varying stages of healing stand out against his pale skin. They wrap around his back and across his chest, marking the places where Estinien initially jumped on him to knock him out, and then pressed Nidhogg against him, as well as the force with which he landed when the dragoon knocked him back against the cell wall. Smaller bruises wind around his hands and forearms where he slammed them against the cell bars, but the worst of the damage remains on his back and chest.
Once he is properly inside the bath, although he does not answer with words, the way his body relaxes underneath the warm water ought to be telling enough. Another sigh escapes him as the areas of tension and soreness from his various injuries unclench themselves as the water settles in over him. The lingering soreness from the bruises seems to fade as well, but until the injuries heal, it is sure to return.
Still, the warm water helps ease some of the lingering pain. He certainly is the most relaxed he has been in some time, but perhaps that is only to be expected, as he is no longer being held inside a cell but instead housed in a far more comfortable and less distressing room.
Now the only danger present (the primal's rage notwithstanding) is that he might drift off to sleep while still in the bath. Even so, Alkaid would most likely have to be completely absent from the room or have her attentions drawn elsewhere for that to be a real danger. Still, Aymeric's thoughts are far from dwelling upon that or anything more than the sound of the water lightly splashing against the sides of the tub and the dim awareness he still has of Alkaid's presence by his side. ]
[ The improvements in his movements brings a small amount if joy to her eyes. At least she has been able to do this for him. Even if everything else she has tried to do for him has ended in some form of failure? Healing him seemingly has been a minor success so far.
Her mind is far from romantic thoughts, but she finds herself wishing she might look at Aymeric in such a way. Instead, all she can see is the bruises along his front, backside, and arms. She feels the familiar rising sense of anxiousness inside her at the display. Oh, her poor knight. No wonder he has been in so much pain...
Alkaid waits for an answer as she sits beside the tub. Then, she realizes it will never come in a way she expects. His eyes close and he seems to relax entirely. She is left to sit on her own, hands on the rim, watching as he drifts off into some form of rest. Her two-toned eyes drop to the surface of the water. A moment of stillness passes--save for the water that waves gently. Her forehead presses to the edge for just a moment. Then, her hands clutch it with a surge of emotion washing over her.
Of course. In this moment, she is far from Lantaa, and barely Alkaid. She may not even be the Warrior of Light to him. Simply someone that he perhaps has a feeling he cares for deeply. Someone that can care for him and heal him. He would not be able to remember much of anything of her. Her questions must surely seem redundant or perhaps even pointless. Even worse, the answers may be obvious, and therefore not worth answering in any form.
She uses the leverage from how her hands to push herself up after the few momwnts that pass. Then, she moves to the back of the tub where his head rests. With wash cloth and soap in hand, she gently begins to wash his arms and shoulders, even his face. What point would there be in having him dirty in a new bed? Once done, she quietly takes water into a basin and gently pours it over his hair to wash next. Not once does she speak through out the process; not even as she stands behind him lathering his hair.
If he needs to sleep then must let him as much as she is able.
Water pours over his head again as she works the soap from his hair. Once done, she gently places her hands at the back of his neck. She attempts to guide the tension out of his body simply by touch. The injuries that litter his body and arms will be addressed once he is asleep.
It is far from how I had hoped our first bath together might be. She thinks to herself, but does not allow the emotion to show.
Yet, it could very well be the only one they have.
After he is washed and pampered for, Alkaid simply sits beside the tub and quietly waits for him to stir once more. Most likely once the water has gone cold. Then, she drains the tub and offers her hands to help him ease from the tub. A towel is taken from the counter and pulled around his waist-- not that she had looked anywhere other than his chest. Another towel is taken and she quietly dries his arms and torso off gently. The towel is then draped around her shoulder and she once again slides against him. ]
Let us get you to bed.
[ The walk to the bedroom is far shorter than the one from the living room. She eases him to sit on the edge of the bed, quickly shut the curtains and returns to stand in front of him.
The towel is moved from her shoulder and placed atop his head. Then, she gently works to dry his hair. It reminds her of a moment that feels as if it were a different age. Except, he had been the one drying her hair on the eve of battle. Alkaid bites again down on her lip as her hands shake moving through his hair.
There will most likely not be a time in which he might care for her in such a way again. ]
[ The desire to remain awake and aware while she goes about her business of bathing him, a notion that feels a little strange to him even in his current state, is very much present, but the combination of the warm water and his exhaustion is more than enough to lull him off to a state of being half-asleep. He dozes in the warm water as she continues her ministrations, his breathing becoming easier and less labored the more she works to clean him off.
If only he could reach out to her and speak to her while she works, because there is much that he wishes he could say, even though his state of comfortable dozing prevents it. And surely the primal would interrupt once more if he even made the attempt.
Instead, he remains still, lying in the water with his eyes closed and a far more relaxed expression than he has worn since this all started coming to his face. It isn't until she places her hands upon the back of his neck and then pauses as if waiting for him to stir that his eyes finally slide open.
For just a moment, they remain staring up at the ceiling, but gradually, they focus and they shift to look at her. Again, he does not have the chance to try and form words, because she is already moving to help him leave the tub, and his hands latch onto hers as he does his best to stand and step out of the bath.
He remains still as she wraps the towel around his waist and continues to dry him off. Once that is completed, she helps him yet again move to the bedroom, and with her assistance, he sits on the edge of the bed waiting for her to return from closing the curtains.
As she works on drying his hair, his eyes remain open, still fixed upon her, and although his mind and body both are telling him he must sleep now, he has one thing he must do first. ]
Alkaid...
[ His voice is hoarse from the lack of consistent use, but that is not what bothers him. He shakes his head lightly given the placement of her hands in his hair, and then he tries again. ]
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He still does not have the strength to move as freely as he wishes, but at least he can move a little, and of his own accord. With his eyes now open and him trying his best to shake off the last remnants of sleep, his gaze shifts towards hers, and the hand that reached for Estinien now reaches for her.
Although the woman in white that he beheld in his dreams had her face obscured, something in his mind is completing the details of that picture. It happens slowly, of course, but gradually, her features come into sharper view, and one of the first things that registers with him is the ribbon at the end of her braid. The ribbon itself is, of course, only a ribbon, but it is the color that draws his attention. It is a similar color as the one used on Ishgard's flag, and that she wears that color to decorate her hair is something that sparks something in his mind.
Thus far, his mind has been clouded and dormant, thanks largely to the primal's influence, but something about the sight of that ribbon has caused the fog swirling in his mind to roll back just a fraction.
His arm moves, shaking just slightly from the strain needed to lift it, but he manages to move it just enough to reach for her hand before she pulls it away to call for Estinien.
The shaking in his arm travels to the rest of his frame, as if his actions are requiring no small amount of effort to complete, and even though the brief healing applied to his injuries has helped ease his breathing, he still has to fight for enough breath to say what he wishes to. And, naturally, the primal is blocking his efforts, but he is doing his best to push back against that as well. ]
L- [ A cough interrupts him, but he tries again. Something about this seems important, that it is an action that he must complete, no matter what tries to stop him amd to stifle his words. Even if doing this means he is short of breath once again, something inside him is telling him it's worth it. ]
Lantaa. [ He only has enough breath to say her name, her true one this time, and once he does, his arm falls again and he has to lie still, that small exertion having taken a lot from him once more.
But, strangely enough, even though the primal roars and clamors in his mind, and he flinches as it crashes down upon him, he does not bend as thoroughly beneath it as he had previously.
He still is not very strong, of course, and although he does not catch every word that Estinien says to him, the overall message sinks in.
There is an order in Estinien's words, and Aymeric feels compelled to obey, at least as best as he can. So, with that in mind, he places a hand down upon the ground, pushing against it so that he might push himself up as well.
He nearly falls back down, muscles still clearly lacking their usual strength, but he catches himself before that can happen. And unlike the last time he stumbled and fell, he does not injure himself again. It seems to take an eternity, as he can only move one small ilm at a time, but he finally manages to reach a sitting position.
Standing seems like a daunting task, if he can achieve it at all, but at least sitting up on his own is a start. ]
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Instead, the one thing she had not expected comes from his lips and her entire person freezes. If she was to be honest and true? Somewhere, deep down, she had never expected to hear her name from him again. She thought it buried and locked away underneath too much for him to remember, let alone say. Alkaid stays frozen, watching as Aymeric pushes himself up. She only moves to help steady him once more so he might eventually sit up. The whole while she remains unusually silent and staring at him. Almost if she were afraid that speaking or moving more would send him back to the state he had been in.
Estinien nods to the progress Aymeric has made. Then, his steel-ice eyes move to Alkaid. His eyebrows raised beneath his white locks. ] 'Lantaa' is not a name I am familiar with. By chance...
[ The dragoon trails off the moment Alkaid moves. Her shaking hands rest on either side of Aymeric's face before she guides him to meet her in a kiss. His eyebrows raise as it takes a moment to settle in that the person Aymeric had called out to is the Warrior of Light herself.
While he may not understand even if she spoke the words? She hopes that her betrothed may receive what it is she says. Lantaa has heard him clearly and remains at his side as she promised. There is no expectation that he might kiss back or even acknowledge the motion. Even then, her tail slightly moves side-to-side in hopes that he might be able to respond regardless. Lantaa is desperately reaching out to him, but oh, so very terrified she might harm him when she means only to save him.
Then, she gently rests her forehead to his as her bottom lip trembles. Despite all her might and will, she cannot help the fact her emotions seem ready to burst out of her. While it has only been a few days for her, she misses her knight more than she ever as. She misses his smile, his touch, and his voice. Her thumb brushes across his cheek and she wonders if he might be able to see the longing in her eyes. ]
Aymeric... [ Alkaid's voice fails her again as her emotions solidify in her throat. I'm here, just as I swore; at your side where you've asked me to stay.
Another kiss is pressed to the edge of his mouth in another silent plea he remain with her.
Estinien remains quiet long enough to allow them a moment. Then, he stands, and offers his hand to the man he calls brother. He intends full well to pull Aymeric up to his feet and half-carry him. It is done at the pace of the man now sitting up and even Estinien is surprised at his own level of patience for the moment. Once he has a hold of the man, Estinien gently help him up and slings one of his arms over his shoulders. Alkaid sets to gathering the blankets and pillow, folding them up together and pushing herself up as well.
Her gaze moves to the dragoon as she can feel a question forming in his gaze. ]
Lantaa, is it? I had always thought 'Alkaid' a strange name for a Miqo'te. [ He gives a small smirk and slowly turns to the front of the cell. ] I would go at your pace but it would take us years to reach our destination. Move your legs see fit and walk as you might, Aymeric. Even if that means I must drag you to your room.
[ Alkaid moves but a half-step forward before she finds herself stopping. The dragoon moves forward, but she finds herself rooted in place. Her hand lifts enough to reach out to Aymeric's, only to stop short of touching him. This time she does not pull away or lower her hand. Would he even wish to hold her hand, or had she missed the opportunity?
What if it had been the last chance to hold onto his hand and she had missed it? ]
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It is a barely formed thought, and it pulls at his heart the moment it springs to mind, but the part of him that is still capable of rational thought wonders if she will still be able to love him, given how hard he has fallen and how much of his strength has been lost. If he could, he would stand on his own and take her hands in his, but at the moment, it is all he can do to sit up.
But then, she slips her hands around his face and presses her lips against his, and his body reacts almost automatically, rising to lean into the kiss as if all of his weakness has momentarily fallen away. The primal does not take this well, of course, and for a moment, there is a flash of pain in Aymeric's eyes, but it fades from view as quickly as it came.
When Estinien finally takes hold of Aymeric and pulls him to his feet, he stills, becoming compliant and letting his friend do with him as he will. Of course, he requires assistance to stand, but at least he is finally upright once more.
And then, in response to Estinien's directive, Aymeric takes a hesitant step forward, legs seeming to wobble with the effort, and when he takes a second step, his knees bend as if threatening to give way. If not for Estinien holding him up, he might have fallen to the ground once more.
But in spite of Aymeric's struggle to walk, or perhaps because of it, the fingers of his free hand move slowly, as if wanting to bridge the distance and reach for Alkaid's again. ]
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There is no part of his current state she blames on him or even allows to cloud her vision of him. He is still Aymeric de Borel, even if he is under attack, injured, and past a point of exhaustion.
Her eyebrows knit together as she sees the pain in his eyes. In an instant there is an apology in her own eyes. She feels as if all she does is cause him more pain and strife. Alkaid brushes her fingers across his cheeks once more. She would kiss him more, longer, deeper. Yet, the pain he is in makes her curl up inside herself.
Alkaid reaches out to brush her fingers along his before sliding into his hand to hold it. her hand is still cold, showing that she had not taken much of the blankets for herself the night before. Her other arm holds onto the blankets and pillow. She nods to Estinien and stays by Aymeric's side as they begin to walk. It is only a few steps at a time, and she notes how Estinien pauses to readjust to make it easier for his friend to walk. ]
It is still early in the morning--the sun has yet to peek. Limsa still sleeps, thus we should be able to get there unhindered or with little attraction pulled to us.
[ Alkaid nods to Estinien's statement and continues to walk beside them. It takes time, but they eventually find their way from the cells and the hallway attached to it. They come to the stairs and Alkaid moves to the front, gently guiding Aymeric upwards with her hand still clasped his. It is only once they have reached the lift that her ears raise and she tilts her head to look up at the dragoon. ]
What room have you managed to get...?
I only pointed out that it may harm relations if they kept the Lord Speaker of the House of Lords of Ishgard in the cells. No inn would take him in his state, thus, the idea was settled for a room given to the diplomatic visitors. [ Estinien shrugs as if it is of little importance. ] I will be on watch outside the door and, in order to calm the hesitant hearts, a member of the Storms as well. Although it is hardly needed.
[ She gives a short nod. It means there will be a comfortable bed and a bath to take care of him for. Of course, her own state is far from her mind. She will eat whenever she will eat, and she will sleep whenever Aymeric himself drifts off to slumber. His state of being is the most important thing in her world right now, regardless of the cost it will bring to herself. Part of her cannot let go of the feeling that so much of the light and life of the star would fade away for her if Aymeric or her sister had to leave. That, in her mind, makes any sacrifice of her person worth it.
Estinien opens the door to the room when they arrive. Without direction, he instantly takes Aymeric to the nearest couch so he might sit down. Alkaid stands at his side in an instant. Her hand is still firmly in his as the other guides his face so he might look up at her.
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It sounds distressed, but not because of his present injured state, but because he is responding to her own distress and his fingers move to close lightly around her hand. The gesture may not be comforting to her, because the still-vacant look in his eyes is surely bound to be distressing as well, but he does not remove his hand from hers, even as the three of them make their way along.
As Alkaid and Estinien exchange words, Aymeric's focus moves to taking one step at a time until they reach the stairs and Alkaid continues guiding him until they have reached the top.
When she stops, he stops as well as the discussion about the room Estinien managed to obtain continues. Aymeric glances between Estinien and Alkaid, looking from one to the other as if waiting for some further direction.
Eventually, they reach the room and when Estinien guides him over to the couch, Aymeric settles into it, gaze moving to stare vacantly at the nearest wall, until Alkaid reaches for him, tilting his face up to look at her. ]
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Her cold hand squeezes his then. All she wishes for is that once this ordeal is finished that he does not leave her. Mayhap due to him feeling as if she is better off without him or the notion that she had failed him one too many times.
She bites back the words that almost spring from her: Don't leave me, please. Don't go to places I can't follow. They were words she has said before and words she feels she has no place to ask. She is the on who leaves for places he cannot go. How could she ask him not to do the same? ]
I will see to bringing the pair of you something to eat. [ Estinien only speaks up to announce his leave. Emotional scenes are far from his place. That, and he would not have it said he could not help a Warrior of Light if she broke. ] You may need to tell him to eat. Otherwise he might insist you do instead.
[ Alkaid nods as Estinein leaves and her gaze drops to Aymeric once more. She forces another smile for him. ]
I know it was quite the long walk. You must be tired after it. [ Her free hand raises to gently brush his bangs to the side. A small tremor is there, worried that any touch from her may cause King Thordan to strike and weaken Aymeric further. ] Once you've eaten, I'll help you with a bath, and then you can rest all you need.
[ She leans forward to slightly brush her lips to his forehead once more. There, she remains for a moment, for her heart gives a painful beat. For all the comfort she gives? She cannot help but miss the comfort he gave her. Curling up into his arms and listening to his breathing or as he spoke of things to calm her. Alkaid gives a sharp inhale and presses it down.
Now is not the time. He needs her to guide him, not to weep. ]
It is a foggy and cold morning, isn't it? Let me fetch a blanket. One that isn't covered with dirt.
[ She squeezes his hand again before pulling away. A smile is on her face for him, and she moves slower than she might so he can see where she goes. First, she closes the curtains on the windows, knowing that once it gets brighter his eyes have to adjust go it. Then, she opens a door and then two to note where the bath is. Once she is satisfied with those, she enters the bedroom.
It most certainly is a display of craftsmanship. The best, she supposes, for the diplomatic relations.
She takes a spare blanket from the edge of the bed and quickly returns to Aymeric's side. Then, she moves in front of him, and drapes it over his shoulders so it might cascade around him. It is only after then does she kneel in front of him with her hands resting in her lap. ]
Is there anything you need that I might be able to help with until Estinien arrives? ...anything you might need me to do for you?
[ There must be something other than healing his wounds she can do for him. Even if all she has done had never truly lived up to the standards of being his betrothed or future wife. Being here for him now surely does not count in making up for all the times she was not there.
Her hand hesitantly raises to rest on his knee as she waits for any sort of an answer. ]
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This long fight with Thordan has left him weakened and even the smallest of movements is enough to take what little energy he still has. The walk from the cells to this room required no small amount of effort, even with the support from his friends, and even as he sits on the couch, his posture slips as if the effort to remain there is taxing him even now.
He can only watch as Estinien takes his leave, but his gaze only shifts away from hers briefly, and once the dragoon has gone on his way, it turns back to meet her eyes.
As she brushes his bangs to one side, his eyes slide closed for a moment, responding to her touch and a shaky exhale of breath leaves him. Fortunately for them both, Thordan remains quiet, not striking out at Aymeric once more, and when Alkaid's lips brush against his forehead, his eyes reopen, and as if something in him is drawn to her feelings of missing his touch and his comfort, his arm moves, shakily at first, but as steadily as can be expected until his fingers brush against her face.
Then, his hand seems to freeze in place as if suddenly confused to find itself there, but he still does not pull away. She continues speaking, and how she squeezes his hand elicits another quiet sigh from him. Even when she pulls away, he remains still, eyes watching her progress as she moves about, even as she briefly ventures to survey the bath and the bedroom both.
Once she returns with the blanket and places it on him, and puts forward her question, his response is not quite immediate, but certainly faster than anything he has done previously.
His gaze turns briefly to where her hand is resting upon his knee, and somehow, that is encouragement enough for him. Once again, his arm moves, and even though the effort behind it causes it to shake, there is something akin to resolve in his posture as he struggles to complete the gesture.
It is not so much anything that he needs from her, but something he wishes to do for her, even if his sluggish mind has not entirely registered it in those exact words.
With how she is kneeling in front of him, it is not as simple as reaching out to her, so he pushes himself forward from the couch just enough to close the small distance between them. Once that has been achieved, his hand closes lightly over her shoulder, and only then do his movements come to a stop. But all the while, his eyes have been locked on hers. ]
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Settled in front of him, Alkaid watches as he begins to move. Her ears lift off her head in worry that he might strain himself more than he should. She moves closer to him in order to try and make whatever motion he moves to do easier. Her eyes are locked onto his all the while, never looking away. She wishes she could see what it is he is thinking beyond the glowing blue-and-white that's enveloped his normally sky-blue color. Although, she believes she does know what it is he is attempting to do.
Gently, as she has this entire ordeal, Alkaid slips between his legs. If he was not so injured she would sit on his lap as she might usually. There is only a moment of hesitation before she leans only a fraction of her weight against him if he so wishes to wrap his arms around her underneath the blanket. Her arms raise slowly to move around his waist, letting her head rest against his chest. Alkaid tilts her head up to look at him to make sure that she has not agitated any of the wounds she has unable to heal just yet. ]
... like this? [ She wants to make certain that she understands what he has tried to do. ]
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His shoulders dip and the blanket that she placed around him begins to slide off, and he catches it with one hand. It takes some maneuvering, and it is hardly a graceful attempt, but he tries to position the blanket around her shoulders instead. Although he is in a diminished state of awareness, he has felt how cold her hands are, and that part of him that still places the needs of others above his own has decided she needs the blanket more than he does.
Still, his effort to put it on her has placed it somewhat lopsidedly, a detail his clumsy efforts are doing little to alter. Finally, he is forced to give up the notion, as the effort has made his arms grow tired and he can no longer hold them up. Instead, they fall to rest against her lower back as he cannot manage to entirely wrap them around her.
Although he does not answer her question with words, he has done his best to convey that this is what he wants, and that he wishes to be sure that she is comfortable as well. ]
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There, now it fits the both of us.
[ Her hands return to his sides. One rests gently over the scar from the long healed stab wound. Her fingers gently brush along the scar through the fabric of the tunic that is usually underneath is armor that has been taken. ]
If you need to sleep, Aymeric, please do. We can eat once you've rested. [ Her head tilts back further as a sad smile touches the corners of her lips. One of her fingers gently presses against the scar. ] Has this been bothering you since they've brought you here? Or is it only the injuries from Estinien that pain you?
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The way she insists on re-draping the blanket so that they are both covered eases some of the concern and worry he holds inside, but the sad look in his eyes remains and the glow that returns does not entirely obscure it.
As her fingers lightly ghost alongside the healed wound, he leans forward once more so that he might rest his head against her shoulder, exhaustion seeming to pull him down even though he does not truly wish to sleep, not yet.
It isn't that his pain has lessened, although she saw to the wounds on his wrists and tended to the bruised areas on his back which has helped him breathe easier, but it has all settled into a constant state of discomfort, only occasionally spiking when the primal feels especially enraged. It isn't particularly comfortable, but it has reached a plateau of sorts.
The old wound has not responded well to the cold of the cell that he was held in, but it has become just another part of the ongoing struggle he has been locked in. Even so, his fingers curl and his lips press together into a thin line as if trying to hold back the ache that has spread out everywhere, not just from the place where he was stabbed. ]
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I see. [ She takes it to mean yes, but then everything must be hurting still. ] I'll do what I can to ease it.
[ Alkaid tilts her head so she can kiss the top of his. A shiver comes from where he presses. He always finds a way to make her react even now. She nuzzles her nose into his hair and simply sits as she is for a moment, eyes closed, trying to absorb everything she can in this moment. She believes they will find a cure and he will be free of enthrallment; that everyone will be. Yet, the realist in her cannot help but consider the idea that they may not have much time left together. ]
I love you. [ Her lips press another kiss to his head. ] I have never been good enough at expressing it to you. Just know, that no matter what happens, and where fate may take us, that I love you.
I'm not certain I would have survived what happened in Norvrandt if I didn't have the knowledge we'd be married. No matter how dark things were, how hopeless it was, I knew I had to come home to you. M-maybe that will not help you now... m-maybe I cling to it too much... but I still hold onto that. Even now.
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Although he cannot put it into words, just her presence by his side eases his discomfort. Somehow, she calms him, but she also gives him something else to focus on aside from the internal struggle that still has a hold on him.
But as she plainly states her feelings and her love for him, he still cannot give voice to a response, but his eyes still remain fixed on her.
His hands move then to latch onto hers, and although he still lacks the strength to put much into the gesture, he squeezes them as hard as he can to show that he is listening and that her words have not fallen on deaf ears.
If only he could bring to mind the depths of the love he had for her, it would reflect in his eyes, but at the most, they just shine a little bit brighter, a different sort of brightness that cannot be attributed to the primal's influence. ]
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The part that is a realist is ever present, but even then, Alkaid still hopes against hope. She knows that if they are to be separated by him returning to the star, that she will quite never be the same. Part of her will go with him. She feels as if they are tied together at their souls. Or, perhaps, that is her simply projecting.
Still, she smiles at him again for the look in his eyes.
Her ears twitch once the door opens. Alkaid peeks from the blanket wrapped around them as Estinien enters the room once more, this time with a tray filled with food. She gives him a tired smile as well as the dragoon places the food down on the table behind them. ]
It would seem the two of you have much to catch up on. I will leave you to it, and check in a few hours.
[ Before she can even thank him, Estinien leaves. However, he casts a glance towards Aymeric on his way out. One that says that he ought to not only care for Alkaid but himself. The door closes gently leaving the two alone once more.
Alkaid looks back to Aymeric with a gentle look. She squeezes his hands before standing up. ]
Let's have breakfast.
[ With one final kiss to their joined hands given, she turns to gather their meal. It's a simple soup and rice which is perhaps best given his lack of strength. She takes her seat beside him with the bowl between her hands and raised slightly up for him. ]
Do you need me to hold it for you?
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But as before, how she presses kisses into his hands stills some of the distress that is building up inside him, and although he is unable to move to respond to her efforts, his eyes remain focused on hers and he shifts position just enough to lean in closer to her. They are already very close to each other, but what little distance between them remains disappears when he moves forward.
And when Estinien enters the room carrying the tray of food, Aymeric still does not move away from her; his glance turns to look at the dragoon, and as before, that look of sadness forms itself once again in his eyes. In his present state, he is unable to reach out to anyone, and just as he misses holding Alkaid and speaking with her, he misses the camaraderie and brotherly bond he shares with Estinien.
But there is nothing to be done about that at present, only biding his time until either the primal's influence once again drags him away or something happens to free him from this imprisonment.
Estinien departs as quickly as he came, and in his absence, Aymeric's eyes slide back to meet Alkaid's. Strangely enough, rather than expend the effort to take hold of the offered food, he raises his hands to gently push it towards her. Clearly Estinien's words from before were correct; Aymeric still desires to see her needs met before his own. It might only be soup and rice, and certainly she might find other things more appetizing, but still: he is not the only one who needs to eat. ]
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What lover, even wife-to-be, does that to the person they love?
A tremor begins in her hands again as he gently pushes the food to her. A sign of the emotions she desperately tries to keep hold of to herself as to not burden him further. She understands the meaning of his action clearly: he would have her care for herself first. Two-toned eyes slowly fall to the food between them as her tail stills. If anything is certainly quite obvious of Aymeric still present? His care for others and his stubbornness seems to be unable to be rewritten by King Thordan.
She bites back a plea for Aymeric not to argue with her and to do this for her. The plea would ring hollow as he is most certainly right. She is in need of food and proper rest just as him. Instead, she lets out a sigh that shakes on the verge of tears once more. Then, she raises her gaze to look up at him. She moves her hands forward once more, but this time, she stops between them. ]
We can share it. [ Her braid shifts over her shoulder again once she tilts her head. ] You take a bite and then I will. Then, once we're done, we'll move to the bath.
[ Alkaid then holds the bowl up enough so he might take the spoon for himself. ]
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As for what she has done to help him, she has not abandoned him to his fate, remaining by his side, and that is help enough.
So, he is forced to settle for what he can do, which is try his best to make sure that her needs are met, even if he cannot do very much to insist that she sleeps and eats. Pushing the food towards her is the most he can manage, but true to form, she also declines, suggesting a compromise instead.
He wishes only to please her, to bring a real smile back to her face, but even as he reaches for the spoon, his hand and arm both begin to shake almost uncontrollably and his shoulders sag as if he has only disappointed himself once more. ]
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Oh, Aymeric, don't be upset. I shouldn't have asked you to do more than you're ready to do. The walk here was hard enough... I didn't think .... I should have. [ She squeezes his hand again before guiding it to rest inside the blankets. Then, she moves to pick up their breakfast once more into her hands. The bowl is settled in her lap and she fills the spoon full before raising it to his mouth for him to eat. ] You first, then I'll follow.
Then, after you've slept and woken up, I'll be certain to ask for two meals.
[ As she is certain he will not stand for sharing a meal with her again. ]
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And even as she tries to reassure him and holds up the spoon for him to take the food from it, his shoulders sink lower and for the briefest of seconds, his eyes slide closed. But they only remain that way for a moment, seconds at most, and when they open, he leans forward accepting the offered bite.
It still feels to him as though she ought to focus only on caring for herself and meeting her needs, but even if he had the strength and the words to form that argument, it seems clear enough that she would refuse to accept the notion that caring for him is a futile effort.
And so, for the moment, he remains compliant, taking the food and slowly swallowing it, the only other sign of the disappointment he directs at himself being the way his hands curl beneath the blanket's folds. ]
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I'm sorry I can't do more. [ Her gaze drops to their breakfast and she fills the spoon once again. She intends to hold herself true to her statement. ] I can't reverse what's been done...
[ The grip on the spoon tights just a fraction. ] All I can do is care for you and help your strength return. Even if you decide to return to Thordan and leave me behind... you will at least be able to do it being able to stand and move.
[ Alkaid quickly takes her sharing into her mouth to help stifle her words. She is certain once he is healed and can move? He will attempt to return to Ishgard once more. Ishgard, after all, is his first love and his purpose. So much so that it would seem not even a primal of his father's making couldn't remove it from him. Instead, the primal warped events, and she has no doubt that he feels as if he has failed his homeland.
She doubts King Thordan would let her near Ishgard and would send the others enthralled after them. She knows Estinien would not let Aymeric return to Ishgard in his tempered state. Despite the room that would of been afforded to him should he be a visitor? He is still a prisoner unable to serve his homeland, despite how the vision of it all is twisted in his mind.
She fills the spoon once more and holds it up for him to eat. ]
... do you remember the first time I could heal you? The night of the conference when Nidhogg made his declaration. [ A sad smile touches her face despite the joy, and quite honestly, fulfillment she felt that night. ] I promised to be the armor that you needed; to protect you when no one else might. That way your heart would not hurt as it did the day Nidhogg destroyed the conference meeting.
[ She brushes her thumb along the metal of the spoon once he has eaten his bite. Alkaid closes her eyes and returns it to the soul-rice mixture to gather her own bite. ]
I failed to live up to that promise. You don't need to try and reassure me that I haven't... because I can see it. [ An exhale leaves her. ] Your father hurts you every time you reach out for me, doesn't he? He'll make you pick between me or Ishgard--saving his Ishgard. If I had lived up to that promise then you wouldn't have need to pick between the two. No apologies could make up for that.
[ Alkaid closes her eyes once more as she eats her bite. ]
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She might doubt that her presence is doing him any good at all, but if she were to leave him for any reason, all desire to even attempt moving and speaking would flee with her. Somewhere inside him, he knows that she is his driving force, the spark that keeps him going even when the odds are stacked against him. That was very much the case during the war against the dragons, and it is the case now.
If only he could tell her that she has no reason to apologize, that she is the only reason he has come as far as he has. And although he might be exhausted beyond belief and wavering on the brink of despair, he is still holding on because she has not given up.
Her words wash over him even as they take turns eating; not everything she says breaks through to him, but in a way, it doesn't have to. Just the sound of her voice is comforting, easing the pain he still feels in his heart and in his body as well.
But how can he reassure her that she has not failed to keep her promise when he cannot even speak? Thordan might tear them apart once again, and that knowledge causes just the barest amount of quickening inside him, beating against the stagnation that has taken hold of his aether and his will alike.
It is not enough, because what little will he still has is not sufficient to break the primal's hold. His shoulders tremble as he tries to fight what might as well be yet another futile attempt, but he must try.
First one arm moves, and then another, unfolding themselves from underneath the blanket. His movements are slow, and again, his arms shake as if protesting the actions he is not ready for. But even if he taxes what little strength he has, reaching out for her is of greater importance.
It seems to take a span of hours rather than minutes, but his fingers eventually brush against hers, fingertips bending to close around her own. Then, a line of tension forms in his shoulders as if anticipating a strike from Thordan, but as more minutes pass, nothing seems to happen.
Still, he does not relax, only leaving his hands just barely holding onto hers.
Without the use of his voice and his words, this gesture might only seen as him further seeking comfort from her, but inside, he is desperate to convey by any means possible that this is his choice. He will always love Ishgard and her people, and should it come to it, he would put himself on the line to save them all, but he loves her too, even more than he values his own life. And yet having a life with her is what he desires more than anything, and that is what spurs him on to continue fighting.
And although the primal's influence is still overwhelming nearly every other thought that he has and any action he would perform, the part of him that is clinging to his sense of self knows that King Thordan is not truly on the side of Ishgard. Or at least, he cares not for the Ishgard that Aymeric knows and loves. He would see Ishgard destroyed, her people enslaved, and for what gain?
For the first time, even though it is only a sliver of Aymeric's true feelings and is not powerful enough to break through his enthrallment, he realizes that Estinien had the right of it: if King Thordan had his way, a great many people would lose their lives, and the peace that they had found following the conclusion of the war would be shattered.
That realization lends a brief strength to Aymeric's hands, and the tenuous grip he has on Alkaid's tightens momentarily before loosening once more. ]
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She bites down on her lip slightly before she leans forward to close the remaining space between them. Then, she rests her forehead against his once more. Lamenting how unfair it all is would be so very pointless. Not when he has his own harsh battle he is waging within. She would curl her hands around his in return if she did not hold the spoon and bowl. Instead, she presses her forehead against his further with her eyes closed. ]
I miss you. [ A funny thing to say, she realizes. Especially when they sit together and the problems of the world finally put to the side. Her head tilts so she might press the side of her nose to his. ] It is our first time together in a city beyond Ishgard and war... and we can hardly enjoy it together.
[ Another moment passes before she tilts her head down. They should finish breakfast before anything else. Thus, she returns to her motions of feeding the two of them until the shared bowl is empty. She places it to the side with the spoon. Before standing, she presses a kiss to his cheek that is close to his lips. She dares not kiss him proper in case it undoes the small progress he has made.
Alkaid stands then and removes the blanket from the pair of them. Her hands go to help him stand. Then, she moves to his side and nestles perfectly against his body. One hand goes around his waist while the other rests his hand on her shoulder. ]
I'm far from Estinien, but lean what you need on me, and I will find a way to support your weight. [ A hand gestures to the room in which they must move to. ] That one is the bathroom. I won't see you in a comfortable bed covered in dirt from a cell.
[ It is a slow process to the bathroom. Once inside, she helps him transfer his weight to the sink. Her attention turns then to setting the bath together. She makes certain the water is not too hot. As the tub fills with water, she takes the steps to return to his side and motions to his clothing. He will need to dress down to be inside the water.
She helps however he might need, being careful to look away at certain parts of his nude body. Not because she does not desire him. Now is not the time, nor the place, and he had made certain his stance that most intimate acts should be saved until after they wed. She will abide by his request even now.
Finally, she leads him to the tub and helps him with his weight as best as he can to settle inside the bath. She moves to kneel beside the tub. ]
Is the water too hot or too cold? Do you need me to get you anything before I start?
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When she helps him stand, it goes easier this time, although some strain is present in his limbs as he does his best to stay on his feet, not collapsing or bending at the knees as he straightens up with her help.
Although he has once again fallen into an obedient state of compliance as she directs him to the bathroom, he moves more purposefully than he has since this whole ordeal began. And lest she worry, none of the mindless actions he made when he was firmly locked in the grip of rage are present as he takes one slow, unsteady step forward followed by another. He might still be enthralled by the primal, but at the very least, he can move forward with assistance.
Still, when they finally make it into the bathroom, he has to hold onto the sink in order to remain upright as she prepares the bath. When she returns and indicates that he needs to undress, once again, he simply does as requested, needing her aid again at certain points in the process. But eventually, he sheds his clothes and lets her guide him to the waiting tub.
Now that he is unclothed, the bruise patterns that are in varying stages of healing stand out against his pale skin. They wrap around his back and across his chest, marking the places where Estinien initially jumped on him to knock him out, and then pressed Nidhogg against him, as well as the force with which he landed when the dragoon knocked him back against the cell wall. Smaller bruises wind around his hands and forearms where he slammed them against the cell bars, but the worst of the damage remains on his back and chest.
Once he is properly inside the bath, although he does not answer with words, the way his body relaxes underneath the warm water ought to be telling enough. Another sigh escapes him as the areas of tension and soreness from his various injuries unclench themselves as the water settles in over him. The lingering soreness from the bruises seems to fade as well, but until the injuries heal, it is sure to return.
Still, the warm water helps ease some of the lingering pain. He certainly is the most relaxed he has been in some time, but perhaps that is only to be expected, as he is no longer being held inside a cell but instead housed in a far more comfortable and less distressing room.
Now the only danger present (the primal's rage notwithstanding) is that he might drift off to sleep while still in the bath. Even so, Alkaid would most likely have to be completely absent from the room or have her attentions drawn elsewhere for that to be a real danger. Still, Aymeric's thoughts are far from dwelling upon that or anything more than the sound of the water lightly splashing against the sides of the tub and the dim awareness he still has of Alkaid's presence by his side. ]
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Her mind is far from romantic thoughts, but she finds herself wishing she might look at Aymeric in such a way. Instead, all she can see is the bruises along his front, backside, and arms. She feels the familiar rising sense of anxiousness inside her at the display. Oh, her poor knight. No wonder he has been in so much pain...
Alkaid waits for an answer as she sits beside the tub. Then, she realizes it will never come in a way she expects. His eyes close and he seems to relax entirely. She is left to sit on her own, hands on the rim, watching as he drifts off into some form of rest. Her two-toned eyes drop to the surface of the water. A moment of stillness passes--save for the water that waves gently. Her forehead presses to the edge for just a moment. Then, her hands clutch it with a surge of emotion washing over her.
Of course. In this moment, she is far from Lantaa, and barely Alkaid. She may not even be the Warrior of Light to him. Simply someone that he perhaps has a feeling he cares for deeply. Someone that can care for him and heal him. He would not be able to remember much of anything of her. Her questions must surely seem redundant or perhaps even pointless. Even worse, the answers may be obvious, and therefore not worth answering in any form.
She uses the leverage from how her hands to push herself up after the few momwnts that pass. Then, she moves to the back of the tub where his head rests. With wash cloth and soap in hand, she gently begins to wash his arms and shoulders, even his face. What point would there be in having him dirty in a new bed? Once done, she quietly takes water into a basin and gently pours it over his hair to wash next. Not once does she speak through out the process; not even as she stands behind him lathering his hair.
If he needs to sleep then must let him as much as she is able.
Water pours over his head again as she works the soap from his hair. Once done, she gently places her hands at the back of his neck. She attempts to guide the tension out of his body simply by touch. The injuries that litter his body and arms will be addressed once he is asleep.
It is far from how I had hoped our first bath together might be. She thinks to herself, but does not allow the emotion to show.
Yet, it could very well be the only one they have.
After he is washed and pampered for, Alkaid simply sits beside the tub and quietly waits for him to stir once more. Most likely once the water has gone cold. Then, she drains the tub and offers her hands to help him ease from the tub. A towel is taken from the counter and pulled around his waist-- not that she had looked anywhere other than his chest. Another towel is taken and she quietly dries his arms and torso off gently. The towel is then draped around her shoulder and she once again slides against him. ]
Let us get you to bed.
[ The walk to the bedroom is far shorter than the one from the living room. She eases him to sit on the edge of the bed, quickly shut the curtains and returns to stand in front of him.
The towel is moved from her shoulder and placed atop his head. Then, she gently works to dry his hair. It reminds her of a moment that feels as if it were a different age. Except, he had been the one drying her hair on the eve of battle. Alkaid bites again down on her lip as her hands shake moving through his hair.
There will most likely not be a time in which he might care for her in such a way again. ]
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If only he could reach out to her and speak to her while she works, because there is much that he wishes he could say, even though his state of comfortable dozing prevents it. And surely the primal would interrupt once more if he even made the attempt.
Instead, he remains still, lying in the water with his eyes closed and a far more relaxed expression than he has worn since this all started coming to his face. It isn't until she places her hands upon the back of his neck and then pauses as if waiting for him to stir that his eyes finally slide open.
For just a moment, they remain staring up at the ceiling, but gradually, they focus and they shift to look at her. Again, he does not have the chance to try and form words, because she is already moving to help him leave the tub, and his hands latch onto hers as he does his best to stand and step out of the bath.
He remains still as she wraps the towel around his waist and continues to dry him off. Once that is completed, she helps him yet again move to the bedroom, and with her assistance, he sits on the edge of the bed waiting for her to return from closing the curtains.
As she works on drying his hair, his eyes remain open, still fixed upon her, and although his mind and body both are telling him he must sleep now, he has one thing he must do first. ]
Alkaid...
[ His voice is hoarse from the lack of consistent use, but that is not what bothers him. He shakes his head lightly given the placement of her hands in his hair, and then he tries again. ]
Lantaa.
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/rolls this up