FF PSL | ❝ two-toned echoes tumbling through time. ❞

[crystallinedreams]

song of hope

BOOK 3: TWO-TONED ECHOES

One brings shadow, one brings light
To this riddle all souls are tied
Brief our moments, brazen and bright
Forged in fury, tempered in iceCODE BY TESSISAMESS

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꧁༺ prelude to violet (4.4) ༻꧂

[crystallinedreams]

꧁༺ a requiem for heroes (4.5-4.56) ༻꧂

[crystallinedreams]

[shepherdtostars]

[ Please... I beseech you...

Ah, someone calls to you.

Every time the sensation creeps into her head, it feels as if she has been paralyzed. Pain shoots everywhere and it is hard to breathe. She can hear Zenos's voice, even as she reaches for K'thisru's hand to try and protect her. The sword comes crashing down and it all fades to black.

That is, until light seems to surround her.

Alkaid opens her eyes and turns, her hand going straight to her sister's. A man in robes stands there and implores them that their battle is futile and the path to him is needed. She can hardly grasp it all, but realizes her sister knows the man in robes. Her mind races with possibilities until hee gaze drops to the hand the man extends towards them.

"The path to the First"...

Suddenly, pain seems to erupt from her side. The scar from Zenos feels as if it is on fire. She bites back a painful groan and turns to her side. Then, she becomes keenly aware of two voices near her. Voices she knows. Ones that belong to the most important people to her on the star.

Alkaid forces her eyes open, realizing she lays on her side and her back towards the voices. One ear lifts to listen to their conversation spoken in low voices. She wishes to speak to join them. But, her body feels like led and her body aches everywhere it might.

She wishes to go home... ]

[elpides]

[ If K'thisru doubted that it was possible for one's world to explode into nothing but pain, now she no longer doubts that. The unexplained, unwarned pain that lanced into her head and her sister's pales vastly in comparison to the sea of pain she is currently swimming in as her body struggles to pull her out of sleep and back to awareness. ]

Ple- [ A strangled plea that remains incomplete escapes her, but the fact remains that she does not wish to awaken yet. Never mind that the terrible images that are flooding her mind are bad enough that she should wish to escape them, but she is just so tired that even the thought of being awake is too much for her.

In her mind's eye, she sees Zenos goading them with taunts, but she still extends a hand to her sister even in the midst of this battle. But there is another man too, another man who she thought had been a help to her and was even beginning to see him as a friend. But now... What is he?

A cry bursts from her then as pain sweeps over her, and she presses a hand to her face, over her eyes, and she turns wildly on the bed, legs curling up almost to her chest as if something is hurting them too.

Dimly, in the midst of her disturbed sleep, she hears a familiar voice but she cannot make out the words. A hand rests on her shoulder, but it does little to soothe her just yet.

The passage of time seems to fade, but so does the pain, at least to a more manageable level. And soon enough, K'thisru's eyes begin to flicker and slowly slit open. Panic lances through her and although she is barely capable of moving so soon, she presses a hand down on the bed and tries to rise.

Another hand covers hers, a far wider one, stronger and firmer than her own, and she registers a hand on her shoulder, gently pressing her back down to the bed. ]

You must rest for some time longer. But lest you fear, both you and your sister are safe. [ The voice is solid and unwavering, but there is a clear note of emotion contained in it, as if the speaker feared the worst for the two girls lying in their respective beds. And as he looks at the other sister who still remains senseless, his fears have not yet passed.

And for a few more moments, K'thisru cannot form words to reply, but after another minute or two passes, she manages to hoarsely say one thing: ] Lantaa?

[ It is not a fully formed question, but her concern, as always, is for her sister's well-being. Once she has been reassured of that- gods, she has to be all right... Then she will inquire about the others she still worries for and ask for an explanation of everything that has happened. ]

[shepherdtostars]

[ Her mind wanders in thoughts. The Scions one by one have had their souls plucked from their body. K'thisru swore the voice was familiar, and now, Alkaid has a personage to put to that face. A mage, it seems, entirely convinced that they must meet him to avoid disaster? Hadn't her sister mentioned something of the mysterious stranger alluding to annihilation of his people?

The path to the First...

Alkaid closes her eyes as she mulls it over. A shaking hand raises to rest on the side her scar sits on. The First. As in a reflection of Hydaelyn? It all seems and sounds so familiar. Emperor Varia had mentioned joining the reflections... but there is something more. Something or someone that had mentioned the First a very long time ago..

Yet, her head aches too much to put the pieces together at the moment.

All of her ponderings come to a stop the moment she hears her name. Without hesitation, Alkaid pushes herself up. Her whole body shakes and her side side seems to scream in pain at the idea of moving. This time, she can't suppress the light moan that makes its way out. Regardless, mint green eyes turn to look at the two in the bed beside her.

Beds... white walls lined in wood. It feels familiar, but her mind cannot place the details of where she might be. Instead, a deep longing takes the place of familiarity.

She wants to go home.

Not the home of the Scions--but Manor Borel.

Alkaid forces her body to move. She reaches for the covers to pull them back. She has every intention of moving to the other bed where the two personages are. Her instincts as a carer and a sister are overriding anything else her body might tell her or demand. It's clear that K'thisru is in pain. She always heals her sister's aches... ]

꧁༺ shadowbringers (5.0) ༻꧂

[crystallinedreams]

Stand tall my friend
May all the dark lost inside you find light again
In time tumbling turning we seek amends
Eternal winds to the land descend
Our journey will never end

☀️ the crystarium, amh araeng, and kholusia — chapter one.

[crystallinedreams]

🌟 lakeland — chapter two.

[crystallinedreams]

[crystallinedreams]

[ The night had returned.

The Crsytal Exarch almost could not believe it. If he had not seen the sisters take the light upon themselves from the Lightwarden? He would believe he was dreaming. Part of him had always wondered if perhaps his plan may not work. It was incredibly risky, and not without its faults. However, the sisters agrees in the end... even if there seemed to be hesitation on their parts at first.

The Warriors of Darkness. An... apt name, if not a tad on the nose. Yet, the First had its traditions and its lore.

Now, he stands in the plaza outside the Crystal Tower. His head tilted back as he marvels at the stars that glitter back at him. His ruby eyes seem to almost glow at seeing them. And, for the first time in some time, his hood is removed.

How long has he waited for this? How many lives has he seen come and go for the hope that this might be the outcome?

Hope...

His crystal hand raises to rest on his breast for a moment. Then, he reaches up and places the hood back upon his head. The Crystarium is oddly still the first time night has been seen in one hundred years. However, he knows that is because there is a celebration planned for the next night. One that he is certain to have a surprise for the particular Warrior of Darkness that reminded him how to have joy. A reminder that he then brought to his people.

A smile spreads on his face then. For the first time in quite a long time, he truly believes his plan may yet work. ]

🧚 il mheg — chapter three.

[crystallinedreams]

[shepherdtostars]

[ Evening settles upon Il Mheg, and while it seems an odd time to seek a quiet dinner? That is exactly what Alkaid does. She has left the Crystarium without much of a word to anyone, small basket in her hands, and a set of blankets. The excursion may be something more of camping than a picnic, given the time of day, but Alkaid seeks the quiet awe that night brings to the First. Especially away from the wonder and awe over the Warriors of Darkness that she and K'thisru have become.

She takes a seat underneath a tree near Longmirror Lake. From her seat, she can see the remnants of the Kingdom of Voeburt. A deep sorrow has laid in her heart since Ardbert revealed the identity of the once nation. The First's reflection of Corethas... Ishgard... home. She hadn't been able to shake the images in her mind of Ishgard destroyed and barren since then.

What has Black Rose done while she has been away? Is everyone still safe? Who has died and who hasn't? She pulls one of the blankets around her and huddles inside it. A soft sad sound comes from her as she curls further inside the blanket. Her hand clasps over the other as she brushes along the ring covered by her fingerless gloves. She tells herself again and again there is no point in hurting or missing that one person in particular. It does not change the fact they are currently worlds apart and will be until they save the First.

That does not help how it feels that part of her is not only missing, but has been torn away. ]

☀️ the greatwood, the lightwardens, menfilia. — chapter four.

[crystallinedreams]

👼 the final lightwarden and the exarch — chapter five.

[crystallinedreams]

🌃 neath dark waters — chapter six.

[crystallinedreams]

🌠 tomorrow and tomorrow — finale.

[crystallinedreams]

{ return to ishgard.

[shepherdtostars]

[ Traveling by herself has been lonelier than she thought it might be.

Alkaid raises her gaze from underneath the large white hood of her cloak to look around the airship. Of course, she could have used the aetheryte to travel back to Ishgard from Mor Dhona. It would have even been the wise thing to do to avoid the loneliness. Yet, standing in front of it, and the idea of instantly moving back home seemed so very daunting for some reason. Something that was second nature had become something she not only hesitated at, but was almost scared of. She elected to take the long way home, hands in her lap, hood down over her face to hide her identity.

Even with the rising feeling of anxiousness bubbling inside her? Alkaid still wishes to be home. She wishes to surprise the man who she will be wed to. There has been no word sent that she is on her way. All Tataru has sent to the city-state leaders is that the Calamity had been avoided, and all is well. The Scions would return in due time, and the Warriors of Light had made contact with their organization. For a brief moment, a smile spreads on her face as she imagines the expression on her betrothed's face at seeing her home in one piece.

The airship comes to port and Alkaid makes her way to Manor Borel as fast as her feet might carry her. A few heads turn at the sight of a Miqo'te dashing through the streets of Ishgard, some even calling out to her with the title she and her sister share. None of it truly registers within her mind as she climbs the few steps to the manor and catches her breath. She knocks on the large wooden door and turns her head to make certain that her husband-to-be is nowhere in sight. The smile grows on her face as her gaze moves back to the opening door to be greeted by the ever faithful Steward. He opens the door and she steps inside, brushing the snow off the edge of her cloak. ]

Lord Borel hasn't made his way home yet--has he?

[ The Steward pauses only for a moment before smiling gently. ] No, Mistress Mercedes. He has been kept late with the dealings of the other citystates. The war, I hear.

[ Alkaid nods and practically beams with delight at the idea that perhaps she will surprise Aymeric. Happily, even. Her eyes widen as an excited sound escapes the head maid from down the hall. The head maid practically rushes her and pulls her into a hug, all the while commenting at how they had all missed her and K'thisru. Alkaid gives an embarrassed laugh before reaching up and pulling her white hood down, allowing her ears to pop up.

The head maid pauses at the sight before setting herself right. ] You've changed your hair... the look suits you!...

[ Alkaid's eyes focus on the head maid but seem to unfocus at the same time. She watches as the pair leave ahead of her, not quite hearing what is being spoken. Then, her gaze drifts to the mirror on the wall. She stares at the person looking back at her, and in a brief moment, she doesn't see herself. All she can see is the scars that remain from their time on the First. Not the scars that cover her cheeks or over her eye. No, these scars are the hair changed by primordial light, and one eye shifted to the hue of blue. The blue that Ardbert's eyes once were. Ardbert, who she can sense, is very far away. Perhaps he is with her sister then. Even so...

She hardly looks like K'lantaa, let alone Alkaid, or any other name she might have been known by.

If she cannot recognize herself... would Aymeric?

Who would he think is waiting to greet him at home? Lantaa, an imposter, or maybe the monster that Emet-Selch...

Fear runs up her spine and tears gather in her eyes. Her whole body begins to shake. The rational side of her tells her he'd see none of those things; that he'd know her no matter what happened to her appearance. Yet, even before she can come to terms with a rational way of thinking, she has spun on her heel and runs back outside with the door slamming shut behind her. The hood comes back around her head and is pulled down further so none might see her hair or changed eyes.

There is no destination in mind, no place she thinks to stop running. Anywhere would do. As long as it is away--far away--from anything that does not remind her of the monster she did become. The white aether escaping her and her sister, the body of light when she looked at her hands, the way the sound would narrow in and out. Ryne having to use her own abilities to keep the Light contained...

She has not realized even when she comes to a stop. Not until she has collapsed on the ground, leaning against something made of steel and rock. Alkaid slowly turns, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping herself into as small of a ball as she can. The sounds of shops closing down the path should tell her she has reached the end of the Jeweled Crozier, but she can barely hear how she has started to cry, let alone anything else as the snow begins to fall. ]

꧁༺ vows of virtue, deeds of cruelty (5.1) ༻꧂

[crystallinedreams]

꧁༺ dragonsong's reprise. ༻꧂

[shepherdtostars]

everywhere our hearts engraved
in the dark you will not stray
forge ahead till the end we pray....

꧁༺ reflections in crystal (5.2-5.3) ༻꧂

[crystallinedreams]

{ the rising stones.

[crystallinedreams]

[ The corner of the Rising Stones that he has found is quiet indeed. There are still some that wander about at the hour, but, many have either moved to bed or have begun their treks from the home of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. A home that, truthfully, he had not thought to call his own. He has ties to various people and organizations, yet home had never been anything other than Old Sharlayan or the Crystarium. Now he finds himself with allies he thought he might never call his own... more so, even, fall them friends.

He still feels as if a great many debts are owed to the Scions for all that he had asked of them to do on the First.

G'raha Tia closes his eyes and folds his arms in thought. Something that he had often done in his time as the Crystal Exarch, and it seems that habits will not disappear simply because he has returned to his younger body. Well, merged, is the far more apt term. He holds memories of both timelines in which he has walked, creating a sort of completed being of both happenstances. There is no swapping between the younger G'raha and the older Exarch--they are one in the same now. Nothing has been replaced or overlapped in his memories... simply existing together.

At least the merging was a success. ]

Raha.

[ His ears perk at the sound of his name, and G'raha raises his gaze to find the two-toned one of the elder sister of the Warriors of Light. She smiles at him, dressed in robes to mimic that of a white mage of eld, and a package in her hands. Two, in fact. His head tilts to the side as he looks her over. ]

Are you traveling again so soon? [ He finds the notion odd in itself. While it has been a handful of days since they returned to the Source, and he merged with himself, he would have thought the sisters would require more time to rest. However, the bashful smile and way her ears tilt down is telling enough. ] Ah, allow me to correct myself. You'll be returning home, then?

[ She gives an enthusiastic nod and it is one he cannot help but smile at. ] Are you and Thisru traveling anywhere?

W-well, I... I would not presume that I am to travel with your sister anywhere! [ The stammering of the younger man comes out, ears on end, blush clearly taking his face. Alkaid laughs gently at the display. ] T-that is to say, I had intended to remain until the Scions had something they wished me to look into. I feel as if I have several events to catch up on, with how timelines diverged, and not to mention the events I have missed asleep...

[ Alkaid unfolds a hand from her packages before placing it atop G'raha's head and giving a good ruffle to his hair. ] Will you ask her if she might stop in Ishgard on her way to wherever the two of you may go? I want to introduce you to someone.

[ Before G'raha can even protest further, Alkaid turns and makes her way from the Rising Stones. He stares, mouth agape, before sitting back in the chair in the corner he had temporarily taken as his own. It occurs to him that he has never seen Alkaid smile in such a way, despite how long she had been on the First. A long sigh comes from him then as he folds his arms once more. Each of the Scions had gone their ways as well. Meaning that he must find something to do with himself now as well... ]

[elpides]

[ It seems to K'thisru that there is much and more that she needs to catch up on. While it was possible for her and her sister to travel between the First and the Source, in so many ways, it feels as though she has not properly spoken with the likes of Krile and Tataru in so very long. Oh, they talked, of course, but it was always out of need and with a sense of urgency.

She has so many stories to tell, some of sheer happiness and others of loss and sadness. But Tataru especially listens with rapt attention, and K'thisru is more than willing to share with her what happened on the First. She finds that it helps to talk about the friends that she made, because it makes her feel as though she is still close to them even now. Often, her thoughts wander to the people from the Inn at Journey's Head and how they are faring, especially Halric.

But now there are those here who need her attention and companionship, and there is one person in particular that her thoughts turn to quite often. She knows of him as the Crystal Exarch, the one who founded the Crystarium and the one who lead it as well. She may not have thought very favorably of him at first, but as time went by, her respect for him only grew because of his actions. And, yes, she strongly disliked his choices and his inclination to sacrifice himself, even if she understood the reasoning behind all of it.

At the end of it all, she realized that he was more than a friend and more than someone that she merely liked, but how foolish a thought was that? As the Exarch, he was so very old, having lived through so much. She imagined that in his eyes, she was a foolish kitten, barely capable of making it through life on her own.

Still, her regard for him had shifted as she got to know him, and when it came down to it and he turned into a crystal statue right in front of her, she could not help but feel terribly sad. She tried to hide it, but she knew full well that she had shed a few tears on that occasion.

But that was not the end of his story, and he was brought back, in a manner of speaking, and while all of it is a little complicated and hard for her to wrap her head around, all she knows is that G'raha Tia is awake and with them once more.

Now if she can only sort through how she feels about him and work out for herself whether or not they have a future together, if he even desires one with her in it.

As chance would have it, she walks into the Rising Stones just barely missing her older sister. They have things that they should talk about as well, such as what they intend to do now, but for the moment, there is a specific someone that she is looking for.

Her eyes sweep over the room, taking in the corridors and adjacent rooms, but soon enough, she spots him tucked away in a corner. ]

Well, this is not where I expected to find the great Crystal Exarch- I mean, G'raha Tia, newly awakened.

[ She manages to keep a straight face for about all of ten seconds before a wide smile practically bursts across her face. ]

{ ishgard.

[shepherdtostars]

[ Alkaid had been entirely content to leave a message for K'thisru upon her return from her quick adventure with the rampaging hippogryphs. However, her own tasks with Tataru had taken a considerable more time than she expected. This time she planned to return home to Ishgard with gifts and a smile. The wounds may not have healed entirely, but as ever, Aymeric had been correct in saying they had become easier to bear.

Now, she entirely intends to help him with his own scars and wounds, as well as all of Ishgard. The talk of the restoration campaign had even reached Mor Dhona, and Alkaid leapt at the idea. Of course, she had to attend to the newly awakened G'raha Tia along side Krile first, and make certain both he and her sister would be well before making the trip back home. She had wished to make certain that both would visit her and Aymeric in Ishgard before leaving.

Unlike before, this time, she does take the aetheryte to the Holy See of Ishgard. Her hood is up once more, although she imagines many in the city would know who is underneath these certain robes. Another aether shard trip later and she is walking down the street to Manor Borel. Even though the manor is her home as well, she always knocks, finding she would rather not frighten or disturb the older staff. The steward greets her with a smile as always, and the head maid rushes forward to pull her into a hug.

Alkaid laughs and returns the smiles, and tradition, asks if Aymeric was home. They wait until she is within the threshold of the home to inform her that he is, unsurprisingly, not home. However, it is the next news that causes her heart to sink. Since she had K'thisru were once again called away to the First, Ser Aymeric had thrown himself further into his role of Lord Speaker. He is rarely home for more than the handful of hours he sleeps at night before returning once more. The maid continues on that while Ishgard has much work to do and rebuild, he is far too young to work himself into the grave. Alkaid casts a frown to the steward who merely shakes his head. It most certainly is not just the state of Ishgard that keeps Lord Borel away for so long.

She is even more resolved to do as she had decided now.

Alkaid then sets about explaining her plans to the pair of them. She wishes to help them make dinner--the Lord Speaker's favorite--as well as something else with it. The two packages in her arms are sat down in a spare room only for the smallest to make its way back with her to the kitchen. She works with the pair of them to make a stew, typically made for those within the Temple Knights, but with additional herbs and meats as the Lord Speaker is at home and not far away at war. Next, she instructs the steward in how to make the far eastern desert that will accompany it. While the tastes are certainly clashing, Alkaid would rather Aymeric taste the food of far away if they cannot visit such places themselves just yet.

The hour, of course, grows late, and the head maid shuffles Alkaid off to get ready. While far later than many of the other noble lords would return home, the maid notes that it is about the time in which the Lord Speaker finds himself home. Alkaid dresses in one of the extra rooms in a new dress Tataru has prepared for her. A cream colored dress with an underskirt of blue, sheer sleeves, and exposed collar area. She styles her hair in a braid over her shoulder and sets the other of the wrapped packages on the desk in the study. Which is where she has chosen to surprise the Lord Speaker with dinner.

Her ears perk up at the sound of the front door opening. She and the maid quickly finish assembling the bowels and drinks as needed on the smaller table. The maid then brushes Alkaid's bangs and tweaks her dress, to which the white mage attempts to shoo her away. She does not need to look perfect, as she imagines that might stand out more than anything else about her surprise. Alkaid does, however, smooth her skirt and begin to twist her fingers in excitement as she waits for the steward to escort Aymeric to the study. ]

...the hour is late, m'lord, but your visitor insisted on waiting for you to return home. I've set them to be comfortable in the study. [ Alkaid's ears twitch as she hears the familiar set of footsteps beyond the closed door. ] Shall I fetch something to drink?

[ Which, of course, Alkaid has already selected the wine best to go with dinner. She does not find herself pausing or worrying over drinks served to her as some might, despite the several questionable circumstances she has been in with them.

Once the door opens, she stands up straight with her hands folded together and a smile on her face. Her tail sways, absolutely glowing at the sight of her betrothed. Dinner is behind her on the table, to which she carefully stands in the way of in order to surprise him yet again. ]

Good evening, Ser Aymeric. [ Alkaid has to force her voice to remain steady and keep up the part. ] I hope it's not too late for me to visit...

[thewayforpeace]

[ If Aymeric had to describe how he felt his days passed while Alkaid and K'thisru were away, he would say that he felt as though he was going through each one as if he were asleep. And that is not only because he has been getting very little sleep when he finally returns home at night. Instead, it seems to him that he is counting every minute and hour that passes, waiting for some word from his betrothed that she will be coming home.

Naturally, he understands why there has been nothing but silence from her. Whatever it is that she is involved with, it must be quite important, and if his understanding is correct, the distance separating them has never been greater.

And so, in an attempt to forestall his loneliness and worry for her and her sister, he has thrown himself entirely into his work. He rises long before the sun and works long after it has set once more. And when he finally returns home, he only sleeps for the barest handful of hours before he awakens again to repeat the routine.

Of course, it has begun to wear on him despite his efforts to tell himself that he must carry on and keep their home safe and thriving, for whenever it is that Alkaid returns. The silence from her is also taking its toll, but he knows he has no room to express discontent or unhappiness with this separation. What she does is of paramount importance; what he does is important, but considerably less than the duties of the Warriors of Light.

Still, it wears on him to the point that he has begun carrying with him one of the bows that Alkaid wore on her person, and when he begins to desperately miss her, he takes it out and holds it in his hands or places it upon his lap as he works. It might seem strange and even foolish, but by doing so, he feels as though she is not so far away, and it bolsters his spirits just enough to get through the day.

Even so, the fact remains that he is not resting nearly enough, and no amount of holding onto Alkaid's bow can reenergize him. When he is at work, he manages to remain as alert as possible, because it would not do for anyone of the House of Lords or the House of Commons to see the Lord Speaker falling asleep on the job.

On this particular day, it has been one problem after another, but he has seen to each one as best as he can. He may be beyond tired, but his mind remains nearly as sharp as ever. Still, those with whom he works on a daily basis have begun noticing that something is not quite right with him. One or two of them have approached him with questions about his well-being, but he lightly rebuffed them all.

The hours seem to move at a crawl as the various lords and representatives gradually take their leave, returning to their homes and their beds. But still Aymeric continues to work until the very last person has left. It is silent in his office, and it is not until he jolts awake, pen in hand and a scribble of ink upon the report he was writing, that he concludes he will have to finish said report in the morning.

The path home is familiar, but his steps are slow and his armored boots scuff along the pavement as his exhaustion sweeps over him. Although he has long maintained that he is accustomed to the often frigid temperatures of Coerthas, and he is for the most part, there is no pretending that said temperatures do not aggravate his old wounds. As he walks, a hand presses to his side where only a healed scar remains, and yet the chill has caused it to ache once again. There is nothing he can do about it, however, and so he presses on.

Soon enough, he will be home, and he tries to think only of that and the dinner that is certain to be waiting for him. The house staff have been so faithful and helpful as always, and as he thinks about them, he feels no small amount of gratitude sweep over him. In so many ways, they support him when challenges come, and although they have their tasks and responsibilities, over the years, the line between their respective roles have become a little bit more blurred. He considers them friends and he does his best to treat them well.

Finally, he arrives at the old family home and he opens the door and steps inside. The steward is quick to approach him as he arrives, to welcome him home for the evening and apprise him of any important developments or occurrences from earlier in the day.

This time, however, he has something different to say, and as the words wash over him, it is all Aymeric can do to keep his shoulders from sinking as he feels the weight of the burdens he carries come to land on him again. ]

A visitor at this hour? They must come with dire news, or at least, important news, to have come this late in the evening. Very well, I will meet with them. A drink would be very appreciated, if it is no trouble.

[ He does not like to place undue hardship or burdens upon the faithful steward, even if one might argue that bringing the lord of the house a drink is the least of his responsibilities. True to form, the steward gives a brief bow and retreats, not to retrieve a drink because he knows full well that one has already been provided, but to give Aymeric and his visitor privacy. As always, of course, he will not be far in the event that either should need him, but he is well aware that this is one meeting that is long overdue.

Having seen the way Aymeric has pushed himself to his limits, he imagines that whatever scene is to come is certain to be fraught with emotion of all kinds.

For his part, Aymeric lets out a sigh before he steps into his study, resigned to what will certainly be a meeting that requires his full attention, and so he tries to call on what little reserves of energy he has left so as not to give a bad representation of himself and his position. ]

Good evening. What might I help you w- [ His words cut off mid-sentence as he realizes just who is standing there in his study.

For a moment, he stands there frozen, hands having dropped to his sides as astonishment sweeps over him. A moment later, he finds his voice again, but when he speaks, his tone is hushed and if she is listening, she will be able to hear how his voice shakes. ]

.... Lantaa?

{ continued, cause they go long threads

[shepherdtostars]

( cont from here )

Carry me, is it? [ Her cheeks are still flushed with her ears perked, but having relaxed some. The hazed look remains on her face even though her lips curl into a mischievous smile. ] My lord, would we not need to dry ourselves off first?

[ Alkaid shifts forward then, nudging her nose to his and giving a brief kiss to his lips. A pleased sound escapes her at the contact, followed by a deep sigh. If only the water had still been warm so they did not need to move. ]

But, to answer your question, I would far prefer our bed. It's far easier to tend to your side there. [ A hand leaves around his neck for only a moment in order to brush against the healed wound on his side. Her smile eases into a gentle one before kissing his cheek once more. ] And while I do so, you can tell me all that I have missed in my time away from home.

[ She notes then that the present she had brought to him from Tataru still remains in his study. Well, she will simply need to fetch it in the morning before he wakes. She hopes that she may ease him into a state of comfort to the point that he will sleep long and deeply. If that means she must scold and send the rest of the House of Lords away? Then, she will most certainly do so. Her knight has worked himself far too much in her absence.

Despite the sound of protest she makes at having to part from him, Alkaid does lift herself as needed so he can raise himself from the tub. Once they are removed from the tub, the water draining, and have dried one another? Alkaid reaches up to place her hands on his shoulders to indicate he is more than welcome to carry her to bed. Then, it is only once she is sitting on the bed that she takes his face into her hands and gently kisses his forehead. ]

I would ask to wear what my lord does tonight. [ Despite her attempts of sounding serious yet playful, her tail moves side to side to show her desire for the idea. ] And then, if you find yourself in agreement...

[ Alkaid gently pats her lap. Of course, she will move to her side of the bed. Once partially dressed she will be in a position for him to rest his head against her thighs as he has always seemed to enjoy. She will of course soothe his hair down. She would see him relaxed and his side taken care of before he returns to doting upon her. ]

{ long thread of the long!

[shepherdtostars]

[ She moves her hand from his arm to his back, gently rubbing it to aid with the coughs. He intends to return to his duties despite the fever and cough? Alkaid merely gives him a look of disapproval but does not voice anything further. If he is so intent on work? She then must get him to a position where he is well enough to attend. There is not a doubt in her abilities, nor his to be well, but she suspects his illness may run deeper than he first expects. ]

Then, you can give me the brief version at breakfast, and then detail it to me in full when you are home for dinner. On time. Otherwise, the head maid may very well fret more.

[ However, Alkaid returns to luring him to sleep. She dozes off herself, upright and against the headboard. The sun is what wakes her. She opens her eyes and looks down at the resting Lord Speaker in her lap. She gently brushes his hair down once more before slipping from underneath him and guiding him to rest on the pillows. Her hand touches his forehead to find that his fever has lessened, but, it still persists. Alkaid's face scrunches before she pulls the covers over him once more and grabs the robe meant for her that rests with the rest of her clothing beside his. She slips quietly from the room and makes her way to the kitchen.

Unsurprisingly, the staff is already awake and offer her morning greetings. Alkaid smiles in return, explaining the situation that the lord of the house finds himself in. The head maid rambles on of how she knew what was wrong, where the steward sighs and directs Alkaid to the pantry. There are enough herbs to make some tonic, but not quite the kind she would make. She makes a note to visit the Jeweled Crozier later in the day.

Regardless, she gets to work alongside the head maid as she tends to breakfast. There is a certain joy that comes to her to tend to the manor and see affairs in order. The pace is different than the endless beating drum of being a Scion and Warrior of Light. It is only an hour later the steward returns as a guest has come to the manor: Lord Artoirel de Fortemps.

Alkaid rushes to the front door to greet him in the foyer. A wide smile is given to him, to which he returns, unaware that she had returned to Ishgard. The conversation does not last long. He explains that he had visited to escort Ser Aymeric in a friendly gesture, and Alkaid instantly begs that he not try make Aymeric return to his duties that morning. If need be, and it would not be trouble, she asks that Artoriel bring the paperwork to the maner and she will see certain that he attends to at least that. Artoriel seems to consider it for a long moment, but something tells her that the young Lord Foretemps had already agreed to the idea. He promises to return later that morning and sees himself out.

She breathes a small breath of relief before hearing a sound from the bedroom. Her ears lift, and Alkaid finds herself quickly rushing down the halls. Perhaps it is not that different from rushing from place to place after all.

Alkaid opens the door and looks inside. ]

Aymeric?