ᴇsᴛɪɴɪᴇɴ ᴠᴀʀʟɪɴᴇᴀᴜ. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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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
[ Her gaze drops as he crosses her arms. What point remains to show how much her heart hurts? It certainly would matter little in his current state. With his tone and how he speaks? It already feels as if how he held her was hours ago, not merely mintues. Tears fill her eyes again and she oushes past them and the door. ]
I do not need thanks, Aymeric. Everything I do for you is because of the simple fact that I love you.
[ She pays no attention to the looks between the two Elezens. Her own mind is twisting into thoughts of wondering if she can truly help Aymeric in the state he is in. She still intends not to abandon him, as deep down, her knight is fighting desperately to stay afloat from the primal's influence. Yet, she also cannot deny that how he speaks to her--so distant and cold--leaves a mark on her heart. A heart so raw that truly anything could leave a bruise or wound upon it.
Her gaze raises slightly as he asks his question. ]
Ishgard took us in when none others would. She and Alphinaud will always have a fondness for the city, her people, and you. She cannot fight nor wield magick... so creating things is all she can do.
[ Inside the package is a handmade sleeping gown. It is clearly made of cloth from Corethas, and handstitched with the emblem of Ishgard on the brest. Alkaid's eyes widen at the sight of it and tearse fill her eyes. A piece of home for the Lord Speaker while he is held so far away from home.
Her hands reach out to cover his. She truly has no idea if the gift will matter to him or not. ]
no subject
But even now, he is still there doing his best to hold on and not give up. She hasn't given up on him, and that is a more powerful drive than even Thordan could have expected.
His gaze lands upon hers once more, and his mind begins to twist with thoughts of its own. He tries desperately to push those thoughts away, but it seems that some part of him is determined to take control again.
It takes a moment, and if she is watching, she might see a struggle playing out before her. His mouth opens as if he wants to speak, but then a tension takes hold of his shoulders and he takes an abrupt step back from her. Next, he shakes his head as if attempting to dislodge something from him, and without announcement or even a second's pause, he all but exclaims: ]
I'm- I am so very sorry that I've put you through all this.
[ It's a strangely lucid statement for him to make, when he is clearly fighting with himself and the primal's influence, but it seems that he still has some lingering reserves of strength left.
He takes a step forward again, and his hands reach out as well, both for her hands and for the package alike.
No sooner do his fingers brush against the package and the cloth inside than something seems to happen. Almost simultaneously, a great weight seems to fall from his shoulders and he is about to straighten up, but before he can, an even greater weight crashes down upon his mind, wordless retribution from the primal intended to prevent Tataru's gift and all the meaning that it holds from taking root in him.
Because nothing else has a greater effect on him than reminders of Ishgard, or so it seems. And of course, part of him regrets that he has not responded so to Alkaid's efforts, but they are still no less meaningful.
Even so, the primal senses danger and a threat, and so it attempts to overwhelm Aymeric's mind and senses once more. His hands that were moving to take the package drop to his sides, but this time, his gaze remains locked on the woman who has stood with him this whole time.
There is a pleading look in his eyes, as if he is wordlessly asking her for help once more, even though he regrets placing more burdens upon her, but whether the primal likes it or not, she does give him the strength to keep pushing back. ]
no subject
His words almost make her feel as if a lightning bolt has gone through her. There is a sense of urgency and a fear of losing him entirely if she does not respond. The package is placed on the couch and her hands quickly reach to grab his. Her fingers curl around his and a firm squeeze is given to them. ]
I would rather be here and endure any pain. I will not stand for you feeling as if you have been abandoned to this fate--that Ishgard has been abandoned. You are my husband-to-be, and Ishgard is my home, and I will bleed out if necessary to keep both.
[ Without direction or even the hesitance that gripped her before, Alkaid moves him to sit down on the couch once more. She stands between his legs, wrapping her arms around him, and guiding his head to rest on her shoulder. There is little else she can do other than heal his wounds, encourage his aether to flow, and remind him of her presence. She has no idea if that is truly going to be enough as he continues to be tempered... but what else can she do?
Her ear lifts as she hears the door open. Estinien enters once more, directing a member of the Storm to place the dinners on the table. A look is shared between Alkaid and Estinien. The dragoon of course questions the change of circumstance, but Alkaid shakes her head. It seems Aymeric will continue to move back and forth between the driven man to return to Thordan, and the more exhausted one that fights against such a notion. Her hand raises to gently brush through his hair and Estinien closes his eyes. Once dinner is set, the dragoon ushers the Storm member from the room and leaves the two to themselves once more.
Alkaid presses a kiss to the top of Aymeric's head. Her poor knight. She has the feeling--the sinking feeling--that he will be forced to chose between the adoration of his father's memory or Ishgard as she stands now. While she is certain that, in his right mind, he would chose the path that would continue Ishgard forward? The primal has most certainly warped those memories and placed him in a state similar to that of before the Dragonsong War ended. Her fingers continue to brush through his hair and down the back of his neck before circling upwards once more. ]
I promise, my brave knight. We will go home. Once this matter is settled and you are better? We will return to Ishgard. We will help everyone there rebuild, and, if you still wish, we will finally be married. [ Alkaid tilts her head against his, hiding her face in his hair. ] Even if I must do it alone? I will free Ishgard and her people so all might decide what life to pursue.
[ The arm still wrapped around him squeezes him tightly as the resolve burns inside her. Lantaa still feels broken and lost, but, she cannot let that cloud what others might need. Ishgard needs its Saviors once more, and she will do whatever it requires of her. After all, she has already been scared and bruised, changed permanently in some ways in her time in the First.
King Thordan and his Knights of Twelve will not take her home and her mate away.
Eventually, she does pull back enough to be able to gather their dinner. She carefully sets it together on one tray and sits beside him, showing that she does intend to eat her meal along side him. In a way, she has already lost track of how long Aymeric has been like this, and knows it may yet be many more days before she hears from the Scions. She will push forward and do whatever Aymeric requires of her--be it an aid to eat, company, or even someone to verbally spar with. Whatever it is he will need to keep him fighting until they have the cure. ]
no subject
He has to fight to speak, because that is the last thing the primal wants, but his resolve burns just as much as Lantaa's does, and after a few seconds of struggling, he manages to seize control of his voice. ]
Please- You must... You must live. [ He fears if she loses too much of herself in the process of trying to help him, even if she does not literally bleed out for him or for the city, the outcome will be very bleak indeed. He does not doubt the strength that K'thisru possesses, but both of the sisters are needed, and if both were lost, then Ishgard might be lost as well.
He dimly recalls her expressing a distaste for how all of Eorzea is concerned with protecting them whenever possible, but he still cannot help but feel that the two sisters are far more important than just one man. ] You are needed... Ishgard needs you.
[ He would give his all for the city he loves so much, but as she has thought to herself, she and K'thisru are Ishgard's saviors, and so they must both live.
Once they are seated and his head is resting on her shoulder, his body sags as exhaustion pulls at him again. He must continue to fight, but he is so tired and the primal seems all but unmoving. Still, water can wear away stone, and a part of Aymeric calls out to him to keep pushing back, to keep fighting that maybe the primal's influence will wear away, a little at a time. Never mind that no one who has been tempered has been able to free themselves by willpower alone, but however tired he is, he does not wish to give up.
He does not register Estinien's presence, nor that of the Storm representative, doing little more than lying in her hold until both men have taken their leave.
Alkaid's kiss and her fingers running through his hair calm him, as they always have, but the churning turmoil in his heart does not lessen. A choice must be made, but does he have the strength to make it? Will the primal's influence overtake him and take the choice from him?
Even as she tries to soothe him, he begins to shake, his emotions and desires threatening to overwhelm him in the absence of his customary implacable emotional shields that have so thoroughly been destroyed during this long fight.
Home... He hears her making promises that they will go home when this is all over, and his need to be home in Ishgard where everything is familiar and where his heart truly resides nearly drowns him in its intensity. Even as she goes on to talk about helping Ishgard's people rebuild, and even mentions their marriage, his longing for his home only grows.
When she pulls away to bring over their dinner, he stiffens, but she is still there with him, not having left or having been forcibly removed a second time. Still, in the absence of that determined man whose only thought was how best to escape so that he might answer Thordan's call, it is all Aymeric can do to remain seated. Feeding himself seems to once again be a task he cannot manage.
The thought has been present in his mind, but he has been unable to properly verbalize it until now: how long will I be able to maintain this current state? And even if I am able to, what will the outcome be? Will I be Thordan's thrall until my time runs out?
He vaguely recalls mentions of a cure from a time that seems so long ago now, but he cannot tell if that cure is even functional, or if he will be able to hold on until it is ready. Another thought not of his own making but rather, the primal's, springs to mind: Why prolong your struggle in hopes of something that is not meant for you? Why not take the easier path and let your fight finally end?
At those words, his hands clench, and his head abruptly snaps up, mouth falling open into a wordless protest. No.
Even though he can barely move and his ability to speak waxes and wanes, he has found enough of the last vestiges of his strength to defy the primal's tempting words. ]
/rolls this up
[ It might seem like a silly or even obvious answer, but she understands he needs every ounce of reassurance he can find. His love for Ishgard rivals none other. Yet, she also knows, the man beneath the mantle of Lord Speaker or Lord Commander of the Temple Knights has always longed for a sense of love and affection. She could tell seeing how Manor Borel stood that it reflected his life perfectly. A place once filled with love and joy, looking to fill it again, but not unhappy or void of strength and affection. All she has ever aimed to do is to give him what he needs out of love for him... and this is no different.
She can tell he needs aid in eating once more. She directs him to sit as he might so she can break the meal in easier bites for him, and then moves to her dinner as well. Aymeric--in any form--would not stand for her to neglect herself more than she already has. The smile on her face is far from the one he would wish to see, but it is a smile none the less for him. Tear-filled, but determined to keep her word.
It will be a trying next few days, but she is not leaving his side, no matter what anyone else might say. The Scions, Estinien, or the primal inside Aymeric's mind. ]