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synthneon2022-02-11 05:36 pm
dragonssung) wrote in synthneon2022-02-11 05:36 pm
Entry tags:
echoes of truth | ❝ tales of loss and fire and flame. ❞
Every word on our hearts engraved
In the dark you will not stray
Forge ahead, till the end, we pray
no subject
Of course, it is a love that he, as he presently is, did not earn, but nevertheless, the remnants of his true self have resurfaced long enough to stir up a feeling in his own heart... A feeling of returning that love and wanting to make that plain to Alkaid, even if she is a Warrior of Light and a slayer of primals. It is a strange sort of conundrum, but any bitterness and hate that he ought to feel for one who brings down primals has been drowned out by these sudden feelings of affection.
But no sooner does he let those feelings wash over him than Thordan's displeasure crashes down upon him again. It seems as though they will not be allowed to relish this moment, because Thordan has other plans. Although Aymeric's lips remain pressed against Alkaid's, he stiffens as a sharp pain in his head cuts through everything else he was thinking and feeling. If not for the chains holding his hands in place, they would have dropped to his sides as the battle between his wants and Thordan's intensifies once more.
He only wants Ishgard and her people to be safe, and he wishes to have the Warrior of Light on his side, in whatever form that might take. What's more, he wishes that he could love her, as he once did before he fell prey to Thordan's snares.
Being pulled in so many different directions and not being able to truly settle on one has not rendered him senseless, not this time. Instead, he has fallen into a troubled silence, still retaining his awareness of himself and his surroundings, but being more or less speechless.
Still, he can feel Alkaid's hand resting against his neck, and her touch is what causes him to look at her once more, as if trying to maintain their fragile connection. ]
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Her hand moves from the side of his neck to the back. The tips of her fingers gently brush at a tension point in an attempt to ease at least some of the pain that clearly there. ]
Lest you worry, Ser Aymeric. I've no intentions of leaving your side. [ She gives him a gentle smile. ] I will be here as long as I am needed... even if you no longer wish me here.
[ Then, she takes him in. His pale complexion and dark circles certainly suggest the stress on his body and mind. He certainly needs proper rest. More importantly, he needs food and water. ]
You need to eat, my dear. [ Try as she might, she is unable to refrain from calling him any nickname of endearment. ] And to have fresh water. I know you may not think you need it, or even want it, but you will.
Is there anything you would like to eat? You've never had food from Limsa, have you?
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The searing pain continues as Thordan rages and rails in Aymeric's mind, throwing all kinds of accusations at him: that he truly does not care if peace comes to Ishgard and that he must not care very much for him. But even through all of this, even though his defenses are already battered from previous struggles, Aymeric's mind continues trying to bring to the forefront the images of everyone he loves and calls family in an attempt to maintain some small sense of self.
When her fingers brush against the back of his neck, ghosting along just the right spot, his eyes close for a moment, as if the touch of her fingers is enough to banish his pain and bring relief. She continues speaking, and he does his best to lift his head so that their eyes might be locked upon each other's. If he could answer, he would, because there is nothing that he wants more than to have her there with him.
Still with his eyes fixed on hers, he opens his mouth as if he wishes to say something, but at first, words do not come. After another moment, he finally manages to break through the barrier that has formed around him. ]
I- I wish for you to stay. [ It is not a command, and not even really a request, just a simple wish that she does as she has said, and will not leave him.
He falls silent again after making that short statement, but it registers in his mind that she has continued asking him questions. The notion of such things as eating and drinking feels foreign to him somehow, as if the fight carrying on in his mind has clouded his thinking.
There is an emptiness inside him, a hunger that he has paid no attention to because seeing to his personal needs has seemed far less important than attempting to first convince Estinien to free him, and then trying to win Alkaid over to his side. His lips are also cracked and his throat is dry, but even though the signs are clear that he does need food and water, he finds himself shaking his head. ]
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Of course.
[ She has spend too long away from him; too many adventures and duties taking her elsewhere. The sentiment was shared with the proper him, but she doubts he recalls the conversation hours ago. Again, she nods as if to confirm her declaration and his wish. A small part of her still worries that he may suffer more if she remains... but what else can be done? If nothing else, she can be the healer he expects of her, when all other aspects have only ended in failure.
He will still need to eat and drink and the signs are clear of that. The hand still on his cheek moves so she might brush her thumb across his lips. It breaks her heart to see it, yet the burning hope blazes inside her, ever backed by the undercurrent of love she has yet to identify. If he can still retain something of himself and wish to fight? She will continue to fight for him and at his side.
She gently presses her lips to his forehead. ] Please don't argue, Aymeric. You will need to be in good health even if you continue to serve King Thordan. I refuse to sit by and let him push you to edges of self-destruction.
[ She places another kiss to his forehead and stands. A reassuring smile is given as she does not intend to leave him at all. With a few strides she is at the front of the cell, the ground having caused dirt to collect on her new white ruffled skirt, and for it to crust on her brown heels. Her hands curl around the bars as she leans against them. ]
Estinien!
[ A moment later the door down the hall opens and the armored dragoon enters. Her tail sways side to side as his steel-ice blue eyes move from her, to Aymeric's glowing eyes, then to her two-toned ones. She lifts a hand from the bars and slips her arm through them to reach out to Estinien. ]
Give me the key to his cufflinks. He needs to eat and drink, and he can hardly do that chained as he is. [ Alkaid's eyes narrow as the look of protest crosses the dragoon's face. ] Please, Estinien.
Are you sure this is the wisest move? I would not hear the mewling from your sister that I put you in more than danger than you have put yourself in.
[ Her narrowed gaze turns into a glare. ] He won't attack me. I promise.
[ The dragoon's gaze moves once more to Aymeric as if to take the sight of him in and judge for himself. After a moment of silence and Alkaid pressing herself to the bars, Estinien sighs and places the key inside her palm. Then, he grabs her hand before she might pull away, as if to express his worry for the both of them. Alkaid simply gives him a radiant smile -- one that Estinien mentally curses at. How the pair of Warriors of Light remain so hopeful and confident he will never know. ]
I will see what I can do for food and water. You had best be in one piece upon my return. [ A warning given to the man into the cell. Then, Estinien turns and intends to find Alphinaud. He knows little of cuisine in Limsa.
Alkaid watches him leave and waits until the door to the hallway shuts. Then, she in all but a flash is back to Aymeric. She takes each cufflink in her hand and undoes it, dropping the key into the top of her dress. She doesn't quite have pockets after all. Then, dhe stands in front of him, waiting to see what he will do now that he is free. ]
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Arguing is the last thing on his mind, and that shake of his head was his final attempt at protesting against her insistence that he must eat and take water.
The kiss she presses against his forehead causes his shoulders to drop just slightly as the tension in his posture recedes, replaced by a tired sort of calm. But when she calls for the dragoon and he answers, Aymeric is quick to look up again, eyes traveling back and forth between Alkaid and Estinien, as if following every word that they exchange.
If he could but summon the strength, it seems as though an opportunity to escape might be opening, but even as the thought forms, it vanishes. He might wish to bolt from the cell the moment he is freed from his chains, but can he manage it?
He feels Estinien's gaze land upon him, and he lifts his eyes so that he is looking right at him, but he stays where he is, not that he has much choice, thanks to the chains still binding his hands. Finally, when the exchange happens and Alkaid receives the key to the cell, Aymeric's eyes seem to flash, if only for the briefest of seconds.
Estinien's warning lands, and not on entirely deaf ears, but Aymeric's expression remains blank, as if even trying to react is far too much for him in this moment.
He remains still as Alkaid unlocks first one manacle, then the next, and for just a moment, he looks at her as if confused and unsure of what he ought to do now that he is not restrained.
You must escape, Thordan roars in his mind. You will not have another opportunity.
But although Aymeric would attempt to make such an escape, clearly his body has something else to say about that. The length of time that he was chained to the wall, combined with the injuries he sustained from Estinien, not to mention the continued onslaught on his mind and senses, has all contributed to a greater state of weakness than even he was aware of. Certainly, the lack of sustenance and water has not helped either.
The absence of the chains that had held him up suddenly becomes apparent as his legs give way, and without warning, he drops to his knees, landing hard on the cell floor. He would have fallen if not for the hand he threw out to brace himself, an action that sends a shockwave up his arm from the barely healed wound on his wrist.
Clearly, an escape attempt was not meant to happen, even if he truly wished to make one. ]
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After all, what could be done to her soul and heart that Norvrandt had not done already?
Her head tilting is the only response she gives to the question in his eyes. She would have him remain with her to care for him and heal him, but she knows quite well that King Thordan would say otherwise. However, it is the suddenness in which he collapses that makes her gasp out loud and her tail stand on end. With no hesitation she is once again on her knees in front of him, arms wrapped around his frame to try and shoulder the burden his body most likely faces. Of course, he is nearly twice her height, so catching him does strain her more than she thought it might. It's no matter, for his state of mind, soul and body far outweighs anything she sorts through at the moment.
In the end, her attempts seem to do little to help, as she notices how he catches most of himself on his hand. Her eyes widen further at the reaction his wrist gives, and more than that, how his aether seems to quiver only so slightly. The expression on her face softens and she sits down proper on the ground. Alkaid guides him to rest his head where he would prefer, one hand raising to his hair and the other to the wrist he just re-injured. ]
My poor knight... look at what he's done to you. [ Memories come to mind of the first time she was allowed to heal him at all. How he curled up against her the same way as she unknotted his aether and muscles. Alkaid closes her eyes at the painful squeeze her heart gives at recalling a time before he was tempered and she was not scared in the ways she is now. ] King Thordan takes and demands so much of you. You can barely move or speak and still he pushes you, doesn't he?
[ She pauses as her fingers begin to comb through his hair. Her other hand reaches out to the wrist he re-injured, gently moving her fingers around it. The tips of her fingers brush against the damaged area as a green and white light comes from her hand. ]
He's angry with you, isn't he, my knight? [ Her two-toned eyes open slightly to look down at him with a gentle frown on her face. ] Even after you have tried so hard...
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Another part of him that still contains traces of his true self wishes to recoil into himself, to spare Alkaid from having to bear more hurt than she already has, because of his own words and actions. Still, even as he falls to his knees, he barely has the strength to hold himself up, let alone prevent the bulk of his weight from falling on her as she tries to offer her support.
But as she guides him to rest with his head pillowed in her lap, he does not move of his own accord, letting her direct him where she will. His eyes remain open, but it is not until her hands begin to lightly stroke his hair that they slide closed for just a moment, only opening once more as she begins to speak to him.
His glowing eyes turn so that they are looking up at the ceiling above them, and rather than words, an exhale of breath escapes from him. She would be correct in her suppositions that he can barely move, let alone speak, but even as he lies there, motionless and silent except for the sound of his breathing, Thordan continues throwing rage-filled darts and jabs in an attempt to punish Aymeric for not living up to his expectations.
Aymeric's breath hitches as Alkaid continues speaking and turns her healing abilities to his injured wrist. He has tried so hard to please Thordan, to act according to his will, but as he lies on the floor of the cell with his head resting in Alkaid's lap, it feels as though he has only failed in what was his task: to bring about Ishgard's salvation and to bring as many as possible into Thordan's fold, no matter the consequence.
Thordan's rage at Aymeric's failure lands on him like a ton of bricks, and although he can barely move, he visibly flinches and his eyes screw shut once more as Thordan lays the blame for what will surely be Ishgard's destruction upon him. It is a manipulation tactic, plain and simple, but in Aymeric's compromised state, it might as well be an inescapable truth. ]
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Until she sees the painful expression cross his face and his eyes.
Alkaid pauses. She knows not what is being said in Aymeric's mind. What she does know is the look of disappointment caused by the former Archbishop. Aymeric has always done well to mask his emotions, but she can plainly remember the expression dawning his face as his father left Ishgard for Aysz Lla. It is why she had decided to never tell him how the battle with his father ended. What remained of the memory of who is father once was is something she imagines is quite precious. She would not be the one to destroy what little connection Aymeric has to the true Archbishop, not the primal.
As she watches his breathing and the pain settle in his face, tears once again collect in her eyes. What good has she brought him since her return from Norvrandt? None, as she can see. He surely expected his lady-to-be, not the woman with underlying trauma she feels she is now. A woman who hid away under a lamppost when she returned, fearful he would not recognize her with her forever changed hair and eye. The woman who curls up at night in her sleep, haunted by nightmares of creatures made of alabaster white skin and feathers. She, who wakes in the middle of the night from nightmares, afraid that she may once again cough specs of brilliant white light, while the maddening laughed of an Ascian can be heard in her ears. She cannot shake the horror of all that transpired no matter how hard she tries.
Now, she is on the verge of losing the man that makes up apart of her world because she could not be present to save him.
Alkaid's eyes close in an attempt to keep the tears from falling. He need not see anymore of how broken she feels inside; this recent trial aside. Aymeric does not need her burdens on top of his own. Especially as she as always understood that his first and greatest love is Ishgard. Her hands still and the healing light disappears. Perhaps she cannot even heal him now--making her nothing short than a complete failure in all of her duties to him. ]
I'm...[ She pauses to force the tears down inside despite how her hands have begun to tremor. ] My ser knight, who always puts his beloved home first. I'm so sorry; thousands of apologies could never make up for all you have endured because of me... the pain you're in because I'm here.
[ Alkaid tilts her head back in an attempt to shift her tears to the corners of the eyes. Maybe then they won't threaten to fall. ]
...would it be the best for you if I left...?
[ She knows she wishes to stay and that he wishes it as well. Is that truly the right course? If she left, perhaps King Thordan would ease on him even for a moment. Perhaps he would not feel as torn as he must surely feel. What good can she do for him at all?
Alkaid opens her eyes slightly as tears escape from their corners. She curses herself mentally. Godsdamnit. How much more of her weakness must Aymeric see when he needs her strong? ]
I don't want to leave you again. I'm so tired of the city-states or the Scions calling me away from you; when you need me... and perhaps I need you more. But... if all I do is cause you pain... and give your father reason to hurt you... should I... is it truly alright for me to stay?
[ She doesn't wish to fail him more, to continue to cause him pain. But, at the heart of it all, she wishes to hear him ask her to stay again. That somehow, despite the failures and pain, he finds all of it worth it still.
Her hand moves to hold his tightly. A slight plea he might ask her once more instead of drifting further away. ]
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Still, words do not come, however hard he tries to find the strength to give voice to them, and a look of despair causes his face to twist even further. It is all he can do to hold onto the image of her, the one that has not been twisted by the primal's rage and hate.
And although the primal rages and storms in Aymeric's mind, causing the pain he feels to increase, he fights through those waves of pain so that he might reach for her hand. His grip is weak and he curls in on himself just slightly as King Thordan's anger continues to crash down upon him, but he tries desperately to curl his fingers around hers and hold onto them as best as he can.
It is meant to be a wordless plea for her to stay with him, because even though his thoughts and memories have been disrupted and scattered by the primal's influence, a core memory still remains whole and untouched. It is that singular memory that reminds him that in spite of the pain he is in and in spite of everything that pulls the two of them apart, he needs her with him. He may not remember why that is, that when he is with her, he feels more complete than he can ever recall being, but he knows that he would make himself an even greater target for Thordan's attacks if only she would stay by his side.
Thordan might still attempt to pull him away from her, but the part of him that still wishes to fight is determined to do so, so long as Alkaid remains with him. And if he had the strength to do it, he would reach up to touch her face, to brush away the tears that have begun to fall, even with her efforts to hold them back. He would never despise her for showing weakness, because he is not a prime example of strength in this moment either.
Nevertheless, it is a sign of his determination to keep fighting that his fingers curl around hers even further, and he finally manages to form a response: ]
Alkaid... [ He says her name for the first time since this all began. ] Stay.
[ It is only two words, and it seems to be all that he can manage, having had to fight through his pain and King Thordan's hatred to use his voice once more, but he knows that it is worth it. ]
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Her fingers wrap around his gently, but in a firm grasp to once more relay the fact she will not be letting him go. Considering the situation? It is more than enough of an answer for her. Her fingers brush along his as she smiles down at him despite it all. The love she has for him is clear as day, even if her heart aches and feels as if it has been given wound upon wound.
Her eyes widen slightly as he says her name. While far from her true name, she doubts he even remembers it now. The fact he knows even the name she's adopted shows he's there and fighting--that he wishes to fight. She continues to brush her fingers along his ad his curl more, and her fingers slowly start to brush his hair again. ]
I could try to ease the pain. But, your injuries need to be attended to first... so you can at least rest if you sleep. I need to start there; to do what I can.
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Then, having completed that action, his arm drops back to his side and he lies back down with his head in her lap once more, that brief moment of lucidity gone as quickly as it came. His eyes are still fixed on hers, however, even though the spark that had briefly flashed into them has faded, being replaced by a blank look that is mostly obscured by the way they continue to glow. Still, he has just enough awareness left to realize that she is trying to help, and he pillows his head further into her lap, as if he is seeking more of the comfort she's offering him.
His fingers move again, curling more against hers, and he finds his voice long enough to ask: ]
Why are you helping me? [ Even as he asks that question, he remembers feeling a surge of rage directed at her, because of who she is as the Warrior of Light who puts an end to primals. But now, that rage feels so distant from him that he cannot even tell if it ever truly belonged to him or not. In its place is a confusing sort of emptiness, but even then, he feels something pulling him towards her, a connection that he does not entirely understand.
Perhaps it is Thordan's continued interference, but even though he knows that she is important to him somehow, he is unable to tell why she would care so much or even offer to continue healing him. ]
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His question makes her pause for a brief moment. It confirms he does not remember things as they ought to be--perhaps flashes here and there. Fragments of feelings drowned out by King Thordan's influence. She smiles gently at him with her eyes still filled with unreleased tears. Out of the two of them, she had always been the one who failed at expressing herself properly... ]
I love you. [ A warmth blossoms in her heart as part of her feared she might never be able to say it again. ] Do I need any other reason than that?
[ Her fingers thread through his locks. She distantly notes he would also be in need of a bath. The notion makes her smile for some reason. It is such a simple thing that she feels she took for granted. Not that she had asked him to join her since the attempt after he asked her hand in marriage. ]
I found myself attracted to the Lord Commander of Ishgard's Temple Knights the moment I saw him. Not that I thought he realized I was truly there. My younger sister has always been the more charismatic and daring of the two of us. I was certain all the attention would be drawn to her and Alphinaud as they talked about supply lines and a threat that the Lord Commander needed aid with.
[ Her head tilts to the side as she smiles more at him. ]
I never cared if myself sister took the spotlight or was the face that everyone thought of when they spoke about us. I never wanted to be a famous adventurer that people would cheer for the moment they saw me. All I had ever wanted to do was travel and aid people wherever I went. Healing them, mending their lives, their hearts...
[ Despite the circumstances? Alkaid blushes lightly at what she plans to share. They've spoken about their first meeting and being drawn to one another. However, this... she's never shared this. ]
And yet, during that one conversation, I hoped that you might turn and look at me and not my sister. [ She blushes more and feels almost like a small child again. ] I had more hair then. It was pulled back in braids and a tail... and darker too.
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I love you, she said, and those words, more than anything else stand out in his tired thoughts.
A long sigh escapes him in response to her fingers winding through his hair, and as she continues speaking, a series of images flash into his mind: the Congregation where he used to spend so much of his time, the familiar halls of his home, and the sight of Alkaid standing in the doorway, lilies in her hands and in her hair, waiting for him with a smile on her face.
His eyes open once more, just in time to hear her describing her desire to travel and heal as she goes on her way, and although he does not attempt to rise again, he nestles himself more into her lap, as if to indicate that he wishes to be closer to her and to experience more of her healing as well.
Then, a look of pain crosses his face yet again as Thordan's rage spikes through him once more. But this time, even though he tenses up as the pain sweeps over him, all he can see is Alkaid smiling and holding out her hands to him. The feeling is brief, nearly drowned out by Thordan's hatred, but he feels an undercurrent of love sweeping over him, and for just a moment, he smiles.
But clearly, the primal in his mind has no tolerance for this, and Aymeric stiffens once more, moving to curl in on himself as pain lances through his head again. ]
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You said that healers were needed to help others back into the battle. I suppose that all I can do for you, my love, is to heal your wounds so you might return to the battlefield. Whichever one it might be.
[ Wherher it might be fighting King Thordan in his mind or to see him escape from the cell. She imagines the latter will not get him far, and she certainly would be berated by those around her for allowing him to be in a state where he might. ]
There's little else I can do for you. Always being whisked away to solve anothers problem. I have spent more time licking my own wounds my mind conjures for me and not enough on yours. It must make me a horrendous partner, and you certainly deserve a wife better than I. [ Then, her grip on his hand tightens slightly. She notes how he curls on himself as he shakes more in pain. ] Even then, I don't want to let you go. The thought of being unable to be with you or be your wife breaks my heart in ways no one else could. [ She pauses as her eyes narrow at the painful thump her raw feeling heart gives. ] I hope your father realizes I only wish to care for you; to be your wife and at your side. Maybe then he will relent in punishing you so.
[ Her eyes close as she focuses on healing the deep cuts on the hand in hers caused by his shackles. She can feel her own exhaustion tugging at her with the lack of proper rest, food, or water. However, she resolves to hold out a little longer. Once Estinien returns with food and she has made sure Aymeric can sleep? She will do the same. He has to live through this.
The fingers around his wrist start to gently rub at the area as she attempts to encourage his aether to move with hers. It may stagnate in time, but surely it could move enough to at least heal his wounds for now. Her head tilts towards their hands and she focuses on just that small notion. Perhaps if she can have his aether move the slightest amount, she may be able to have it move at the larger injuries.
An ear lifts slightly as she hears the door open and the sound of Estinien's footsteps and armor. The door to the cell moves. Her eyes only open once Estinien is beside them and she tilts her head up to look at him. Quite disgruntled by the errand, but he stands there over looking the two. Alkaid smiles as if proud she was correct that Aymeric would not hurt her. ]
Thank you, Estinien. Could you find blankets and a pillow? He needs proper rest and nights in Limsa can be cold, even if they haven't been. [ She does not stop to give the dragoon a moment to reply. ] And, could you help me sit him up to eat. I...
Am rather short in stature? [ He smirks at the red that takes her face. The food is set to the side. ] Aye, I can do that.
Be gentle, please, h-he can't support his own weight standing up. [ Alkaid cannot help the tremor in her voice as Estinien does as she asked. She hovers the entire time, hand moving from Aymeric's hair to brace him incase he slouched against the brick wall behind him.
Then, she moves to sit in front of him, hand moving to the side of his face to ease his gaze towards her if he can manage it. ] See, Estinien cares too, my love. In his own grumpy manner.
[ Estinien scowls slightly at his own expense and stands. For a moment, he watches how Alkaid frets over Aymeric, then how she untangles their hands to start preparing the meal that Alphinaud chose. She stays close enough so Aymeric might raise his hand again to touch her if need be. ]
The Scions have need of your presence, Alkaid. A meeting of what to do from this point on.
[ Alkaid does not moss a beat nor does she stop. Her eyes remain on the task in front of her--both of them. ] You can inform them that I am not attending. They can survive a meeting without one of the Warriors of Light. [ She turns back to face Aymeric again. Her head tilts to try and find his gaze once more. ] My place is here right now, with my lord-to-be.
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... 'kaid. [ His chest heaves with the effort, but all he manages to do is gasp out part of her name. It seems that he truly cannot speak, even if the will and the desire is there, and that realization causes his brow to crease and his eyes to screw themselves shut once more.
Even then, his hand never leaves hers, clinging onto it as though she is his lifeline, keeping him from drifting away from her as the struggle to hold on threatens to drag him away.
Oddly, something strange seems to happen then. The relentless assault on his mind abruptly ceases as the primal's voice fades away, and in the absence of pain, Aymeric's tense posture finally relaxes and his eyes slowly open once more. His aether moves, but not as freely as it should have, but with the primal's hold temporarily loosened, at least it shifts and does not remain stagnant. It may not stay that way for long, but at least for the moment, there is a brief reprieve.
Aymeric dimly registers the cell door opening and Estinien joining them inside, but their exchange is little better than muffled sounds to him, until he feels Estinien's hands on him, helping move him from his prostrate position to a seated one. If not for the solid brick wall behind him and for Alkaid's hands holding him up as well, he might not have managed to stay upright.
His gaze shifts then, aided again by her guiding touch, and he manages to fix his eyes on her briefly shifting once to look at the taller dragoon. If he could utter words of thanks, he would, but even if he could comprehend that thought, it slips from his mind just as quickly as it came.
And once again, as Estinien and Alkaid exchange words, the sounds fade in his hearing, try as he might to understand what is being said. The most that registers is a tone of disagreement from Alkaid, but even then, he can do little more than look between her and Estinien, as if he is still attempting to follow their conversation. ]
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His aether struggles to move but it does move. It causes the hope inside her heart to flash and burn. She does not address it verbally, and instead only does so once he has been propped against the wall. Her gaze finds his as it travels back and forth. Then, her hands moves to cradle his head in them once more to keep his focus on her. ]
Do your best to sit up straight, Aymeric. Take as deep breaths as you are able to. [ Alkaid's eyebrows raise to instruct him to follow her lead. ] That will help your aether flow.
[ She inhales deeply and exhales once, then twice, attempting to show him what he might do to help. If nothing else it will bring more oxygen into his lungs and his blood flowing to remain alert. She inhales deeply and exhales once more to make certain he understands what she means. A smile spreads on her face and she kisses his forehead to reward him in what he can do.
Estinien watches the scene almost in silent awe of it all. Of course, he had seen Alkaid heal on the battlefield. He had even seen how she patched her sister and Alphinaud on their trip to meet the great wrym. This, however, was something entirely different. She had somehow managed to break through to Aymeric despite his tempering and the fanatical belief instilled by King Thordan. How the Warriors of Light continue to make small miracles is truly beyond his understanding.
And then the uneasy feeling that he must break apart the progress that has been done. ]
I am afraid they insist that all of their order be present. That includes both of the Warriors of Light.
[ Her eyes narrow before she looks over her shoulder at Estinien, tail bristling at his continued insistence. Both hands remain cradling Aymeric's head until he feels he might be able to lift it again on his own. While Alkaid is never one that is quick to anger, she quite honestly feels as if throwing something at the dragoon will make her point. ]
They can insist all that they will! [ Despite how close they had all become in their time in Norvrandt? Alkaid feels the old bitterness bubbling beneath the surface. ] How many times have I left on their whims and business, ignoring what I wish? How much of ourselves must my sister and I give to them before they allow us to be people?! I will not leave him--not like this!
[ Estinien cannot say he disagrees with the sentiments at hand nor her quite obvious display of her own needs and desires. ] Those are answers I cannot give. Alphinaud and Alisaie are waiting for you--
--Then they can leave without me!
[ Her eyes narrow further as her hands leave Aymeric to face Estinien. Which is the opening he had been looking for. In one acrobatic sweeping motion, the dragoon sweeps Alkaid into his arms and carefully over his shoulder. Part of her arm may have been scraped across the points on his armor, to which he will apologize later. For now, an apologetic look is given to his brother before turning and moving to the cell door.
Alkaid raises her fists and slams them into Estinien's armor. She tries to free herself from the hold the dragoon has on her, feet kicking as well. It is quite the unseemly display from a Warrior of Light, but Estinien can certainly tell in that moment that the sisters are indeed sisters. ]
Put me down, Estinien! Estinien! Put me down! [ She reaches out to try to grasp one of the cell bars, but her fingers glide over it as he quickly shuts the door behind him and moves away. With wide eyes she looks at Ayermic in the cell and attempts again to pull herself from his grasp. ] Estinien, please, don't--don't!
[ The door opens and the two disappear for a brief moment. Then, it is only Estinien that returns, taking the chair he had brought with him and propping it underneath the handle of the door. The dragoon ignores the continual pounding as he steps inside Aymeric's cell once more. ]
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At the very least, he can follow basic directions, and when Alkaid tells him to sit up straight, he does his best to oblige, pushing himself up against the wall with both hands. And once he has managed that, he follows her next command: to take deep breaths.
It isn't a perfect attempt by any means, as his breath catches, and the strain of the action shows itself in his shoulders, but he does what he can.
Even as Alkaid and Estinien continue to exchange words, he just remains sitting there as ordered, taking a breath and letting it out, and repeating the process again.
It isn't until he hears Alkaid's outburst of determination that she will not be leaving that he abandons his attempts to breathe as she told him to do. His eyes widen slightly, as if reacting to the agitation in the room.
But when Estinien takes hold of Alkaid, lifting her from the ground, his eyes widen even further, and he raises a hand as if reaching for her. All he can do is watch as she fights Estinien every step of the way. His gaze meets hers, and stays that way until he can no longer see her.
As soon as she is out of eyeshot, his head dips and his gaze lowers to stare at the ground, his hands dropping to rest against the cell floor, the signs of life that he was beginning to display with Alkaid helping him having seemingly fled the cell with her.
In their place is a blank stare and a motionlessness that has settled in once more as what little awareness he had managed to fight to regain fades away. Estinien's return to the cell does not even garner a reaction from him, and he just remains sitting where he was placed, eyes still glowing but showing no recognition. ]
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It was not my desire to separate the pair of you. Especially for the good she does you. [ He, however, knows it is better that he do it as opposed to one of the other Scions coming to remove her themselves. ] I've no doubt that she will make a swift return and curse the Scions along the way.
[ A gloved hand raises and gestures to the food beside his brother. ] In the mean time, Aymeric. It would do you well to eat.
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Clearly, the man in the cell is someone important to him, and even though a good deal of Aymeric's comprehension has left him, he still retains enough of it to remember that the face of the man sitting in front of him is someone important.
It takes a moment, but finally, he raises his head to look first at Estinien then at the food that is still within his reach. Instead of doing as he was told, he reaches for it and moves it over in Estinien's direction, pushing it closer to him. ]
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His eyes fall down to the tray that is pushed to him. If he had not known Aymeric as well or as long as he had? He might misunderstand the gesture. It would seem the man's natural inclination to care for all those of Ishgard would come first no matter if he is tempered or not. Perhaps that is why Alkaid seems so determined and full of conviction that he may yet be cured. Aymeric still exists somewhere in it all. ]
Nay, Aymeric. [ However, lest his brother think that he is attempting to be cruel, Estinien gently pushes the tray back to him. He waits until the Lord Speaker looks at him before allowing his usual harsh features to mold to something gentler. He is a far cry from Alphinaud and K'thisru, and an even father cry from Alkaid, but he intends the meaning to be the same. ] I think it best if you eat. Not simply because you are in greater need. I am certain it would lift Alkaid's spirits to know you have eaten and cared for yourself in her absence.
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If he needs to eat, then so must his friend. But even so, the tray of food is pushed back to him again, and his gaze connects with his old friend's once again.
He is still having difficulty stringing words together, but he has enough in him to ask one thing. ]
What about you? [ Because he has just enough powers of observation left to notice that there is only enough here for one person. ]
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[ The raised hand gestures once again to the food for him to eat. ]
Most likely she will obtain something to eat on the way back. The Scions will not be able to keep her long. Thus, you ought do something that will bring a smile to her face when she returns.
[ Estinien moves to sit down and places Nidhogg across his lap. There is no intention of using the lance now. It simply rests there in order to be more comfortable. ]
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Alkaid's healing on his wrists has helped, but even as reaches for the food and begins slowly eating it, his hands begin to shake just a little, revealing the weakness that is still present there. But he manages as well as possible, and it isn't until his eyes land on the lance resting across Estinien's lap that he pauses, hands stilling as he warily eyes the weapon.
Again, unbidden, an image springs into his mind of Nidhogg being used to knock him against the cell wall, and then pinning him in place. He is not afraid of the lance, exactly, but his eyes widen just slightly, pointing to a lingering apprehension about having the lance used on him once more. ]
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It catches his attention that Aymeric has paused in his eating. He glances over to find the other man staring down at Nidhogg. He rolls his eyes slightly before picking up the lance and moving it to rest beside him on the floor.
Then his arms cross and he begins a silent vigil over the man he calls brother. ]
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